#because the rest outwardly said to my face that they wouldn’t be studying outside of class

[fingertipsmp3]

Just realised I don’t think I’ve missed teaching even one time since I left. Like, at all. It truly wasn’t the right career for me huh

[kingsuckjin]

Ungodly Beast 3- epilogue

✞ Pairing: Devil! Jungkook x reader

✞ Genre: horror, fluff idk anymore

✞ Synopsis: You need to end this hell on earth.

✞ Warnings: death, gore, mention of burns, blood, talk of heaven and hell, the earth is on fire (I have to say that your child dies but it will all be okay, I promise it’s alright and it’s not as bad as you might think, just trust me.)

✞ Words: 2.3k

✞ A/N: I would put links here for the past two parts, but lately tumblr has been doing this thing where it wont let this fic show up in the tags if I put in links or tag anyone. They're on my masterlist though, I’m just very sorry for the inconvenience.

"Go my child, end this. Take all the power you need, and if you succeed I'll return the favor."

The flames around your bare feet had to be searingly hot, but they didn't hurt you, it didn't even singe or dirty the white you wore. 

The grass of the park was no more, and what lie under the flames was dry, scorched earth. The leaves had been burned from the trees, the trunks of which still smoked and trailed upwards towards the starless night sky. Glowing orange embers and ash fell all around you like some kind of twisted blizzard.

As you walked you saw the melted remnants of the playground you use to take your son to.

So this was hell on Earth.

It was just a shell of familiarity and home.

On your walk you could hear the sounds of police sirens and fire trucks, but it was much too late for them, everything was on fire.

Buildings, shops, offices, either up in flames or ash on the ground. You saw a car in flames explode, thankfully no one was in it.

There were people. People lined the streets, crying, confused, scared and burned.

An old man was laying on the street, his wife crying over him. She was so hysterical she didn't even see you approach, but when she did her jaw dropped at the sight of you, she begged you for help in another language, one you knew only bits and pieces of before and studied in your free time, but you now fully understood.

You said nothing as you looked over the man's burnt face before placing your hands over it, covering the freshly burnt skin. You closed your eyes and let your head fall slightly.

"My child, I will let you heal him, I will let you give the people hope. But you must hurry to find him before he causes anymore irreversible destruction. Stop him, and put the rest in my hands."

You nodded in agreement and opened your eyes and moved your hands. 

On lookers had gathered around you, both the woman and the man thanked you, but you had to go.

"Don't worry, just pray." You told them. You knew they were looking at your wings folded against your back as you walked on.

As you passed Namjoon's burning church you could see him clearly in your head, on his knees on the floor between the pews on prayer as he realized who was just outside right before it went up in flames.

You didn't go inside, it was too late for him, but you knew Jungkook and your son had to be close, you could feel it. You could see their trail of death, torment and destruction.

You closed your eyes and you brought on the rain.

The crack of thunder rolled through the sky before the downpour started, and though it rained around you, you remained dry. It was all you could do in an attempt to end the suffering of the people at the hands of this fire for now. You also wanted to prevent the risk of them making things worse when you found them.

To attract them you began to sing quietly, you sang the song in the language that Jungkook had sang to your son when he was just a baby. Though the lyrics didn't translate well, it was a song about peace and silence and it was in the world's first language. Even back then, you supposed, that parents just wanted their babies happy and they wanted to do right by them. You remembered Jungkook saying when you first met him that that was something he never understood, and still seemed not to.

You couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him, you pitied him. You pitied his lack of understanding towards humanity even with all of his new emotions. He didn't get to grow from a child, he didn't have surroundings or figure to help shape him. He couldn't never be a parent because he never had a parent figure, he was never a child, Jungkook just was. He had just been Jungkook all at once since the birth of time. He only knew being cast out of heaven, he only knew lies, he only new bitterness, revenge, and power. Jungkook only knew destruction and couldn't handle when you had created something for him, given life to something that was partially made from him. Jungkook wanted to own you and your children just like he owned the souls in hell. Even if you give a person emotions who wasn't taught right from wrong or how to be there for people, or how to not be selfish, they might feel guilty. However, they've already become set in their ways seeing as it's all they've ever known. It wasn't Jungkook's fault that he was given this eternal cold life, he never asked for this.

You understood vastly more than you did before, there was no fooling you now, you saw absolutely everything but one way you saw before never changed.

You loved Jungkook. You knew he would've loved you if he could've from the start. You were his soulmate, His Lilith, his reason for not being allowed to have emotions in the first place in fear of producing the Antichrist. Nothing could stop destiny, you knew this now. No matter what god took or gave to him, nothing could've stopped this. Even now as you found Jungkook holding your son's hand as he burns someone alive, this was destiny. Just like Noah's ark, god can cast out and call forth, he can teach lessons or make people forget.

So here you were, and here he was, in the middle of this burnt street. Neither of them saw you yet, but they were doing what destiny called for.

"Jungkook." You spoke his name for the very first time, catching both their attentions. 

"Mommy!" Your elated son tried to run to you but his father stopped him as he was stuck staring at you.

"You're…" his voice was almost inaudible with the roar and crack of the fires that were too big.

You unfurled your white wings from behind your back and stretched them out.

"You're home." 

"Mommyyy! Mommy back!” Your son yelled happily with a big smile on his face as he began struggling against his father and slipped out of his grasp. Your son ran the half of a block down the street and you could now see his horns were much larger now, and his eyes were black. His father screamed for him and began to run after him, telling him not to touch you.

You knelt down and let your child run into your open arms. You wrapped them around him and let him fall limp.

"I love you, everything will be okay." You told him as you picked him up and laid his body on the sidewalk. Much like a cross or holy water, your body itself could destroy anything Unholy, you were blessed from god himself, you were an angel.

"No… no! What did you do to him?! What did you do to our son?!" Jungkook screamed at you making the fire around you only burn more angrily.

"He felt nothing, God will return him to me." You stepped closer to him. "I came for you too."

"No. You're home, bring our son back and come home!" He demanded but you were no longer easily swayed.

"This isn't my home anymore, look what you've done to it." You answered calmly.

"I made this for us, I did this for you." 

You watched as blood began to leak from his eyes and mix with the water from the rain. 

"I know, I know you did. I know that there's no length you wouldn't go to for me, even your son. You mean well, you just don't understand. Just know I would go through any length for you and our family, and that's why I'm here. We both went through great lengths, we've both been through a lot, so come to me."

"You're tricking me, you're going to kill me…" he with his narrowed eyes aimed at you.

"You're in pain, Jungkook. It doesn't have to be that way. God still has time to fix this little isolated incident." 

"And hell? What happens to hell when I'm gone?" He asked. You felt he was about ready to give in, you knew it took everything in his power right now to not come to you and hold you.

"I think that's what destiny wanted all along,  no more hell. We were meant to be together Jungkook, and it's finally time. I'm not tricking you, I could never do to you what you did to me. Let's go get our daughter and son, let's be a family let's-" 

He began to walk towards you, falling to his knees at your feet and looking up at you.

"I don't know where I'll be going, but I'll follow you anywhere" you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously. "I just want you and my family, I want everything to be okay." 

You lifted your hand to his cheek as you looked down into his black eyes and brushed away the bloody tears from his cheeks only to leave red marks of your own. You had burned him with your touch, and he had flinched but didn't outwardly complain.

He stood and his face came just millimetre from yours.

"Just do it." He whispered before pressing his lips softly to yours.

You brought both of your hands up and placed them on his face and in a split second he went limp against you.

You struggled to gently lay him down on the pavement.

"I'm done. It's done. Fix it, please." You spoke out loud.

"Rest now my child. You've been through so much."

The sky began to grow brighter and brighter until it took over everything and you had to squint to see anything at all.

You were struck with the sudden urge to pee, but you were just too tired underneath your warm sheets. You groaned as you tried to go back to sleep but the feeling became almost unbearable.

You moved the blankets, sat up, and swung your legs over the bed, immediately feeling your back hurt. This action must've woken up the baby inside of you because you began to feel the heavy kicks from inside of your belly.

"I'm going, I'm going." You nagged at the unborn baby as you waddled towards the bathroom. "You better not kick me in the bladder again, girl." You warned.

When you were done you headed to the kitchen with new priorities, you smelled food. Lately just the thought of anything food related had you salivating and reaching for anything edible you could get you hands on, but that's just what being seven months pregnant did to you.

You walked through the doorway just in time to see a few pieces of scrambled egg fall onto the floor.

Your son looked down at it from the stool against the counter he stood on and so did his dad.

"Uh oh." You son said as he looked at you, holding a plate of the eggs.

"Morning darling. We're definitely not making a mess in here." Jungkook lied with a smile as you assessed the damage the boys had done to the kitchen.

"As long as you both clean it up I see no mess." You joked.

"Mommy! Breakfast!" Your son held the plate up proudly, spilling more eggs onto the floor, lucky Jungkook decided to take the plate away from the tiny little version of himself before picking him up with the other arm.

"Tell mommy good morning!" He placed the plate on the table before bringing your son over on his hip. Jungkook knew it was hard for you to bend over now a days.

Your son gave you a wet kiss on your cheek before his father knelt down with him.

"What about baby sister?" His father asked him.

The boy was careful as he gave your belly a hug and pat and told it good morning.

"Morning." Jungkook gave you a quick kiss on your lips before wrapping his arms around you.

"We missed you." He whispered into your ear. "You slept in late, must almost be time for her." He let you go so you could all sit at the table.

"I'm excited, but dreading having to through giving birth a second time. We missed church again because of me, didn't we?" 

"Father Namjoon understands you're too pregnant to function at the moment." He jokingly assured you. "I'm excited for her to get here already. I'll be right there with you, and little bub gets to spend time with his grandma. It's all planned out and you have nothing to worry about. Oh, by the way, I finished putting the crib up in the nursery finally." Even as he spoke about mundane things, there was a sparkle in his soft brown eyes as he looked at you, there were so wide with excitement and wonder, a trait he passed to your son. You would never get enough of him, you hadn't been able too since you met in grade school. You even found yourself missing him deeply to the point of tears during college. When you saw him again one night at a bar, the two of you just couldn't help it. You were confident that was the night you made your son together. You were once again inseparable as inseparable gets. He just stayed over every night after that night, which was good because you didn't want him to leave anyway. You were married just three months after that night at the bar. He wanted everything you wanted, he was the man you had always dreamed of, you had never loved any other person the way you did him. You had always had a connection with him, one you felt went far beyond when you met him as a little wide eyed boy asking to be friends. You knew, both of you did, that you were soulmates.You had always had been and always would be, in this life, whatever lives came before this, and in the next.

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 11

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  “When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll be happy together.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,511

Warnings: captured reader, angst, bonding with Grogu, plot plot plot

Author Note: To anyone and everyone sticking with this series, I love you so much! I know the plot is more than a little thick right now, but answers are slowly but surely being revealed. 

Links to Part 1 and Part 10 and Part 12

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

You pace the length of the cell, brow furrowed as you try to organize your racing thoughts. Between the chilly atmosphere and the severed bond wailing for its other half, you imagine you outwardly resemble the jittery and unbalanced mess you feel internally. You refuse to feel humiliated by your appearance, not when the witnesses are Gideon and his minions. They can think what they want about you, believe they have broken your spirit, because that just means they won’t expect it when you free yourself until it’s too late.

However, part two of your plan of escape is proving to be more challenging to conceptualize than you initially thought. The collar is tightly wound around your neck to the point of chafing. Apparently the rule of being able to slip two fingers under a collar is only applicable to animals in Gideon’s eyes because your attempt of slipping your finger between skin and metal is dissuaded by another electric shock zipping through your body.

However, as you lightly trail your fingertips over the cold metal, you’re surprised to feel a noticeable dip in the back. It’s not a design flaw, you think as you try to visualize it in your mind. Your heartbeat quickens as realization strikes: it’s a keyhole.

Any excitement you might feel at your discovery is spoiled by the fact a keyhole is useless without a key. You look at the laser gate, further disappointed as you contemplate the complexity of the tunnel system. There could be dozens of cells down here, potentially thousands of hiding places for Gideon to keep the key to the collar secure. Not to mention, you don’t even know what the key looks like. It could be hanging right outside the cell and you’d have no idea.

Lost in the sea of disparaging thoughts, you don’t notice the return of the baby crawling through the hole in the wall until he latches onto your foot. Startled, you barely manage to refrain from shouting a curse as you stare down at him. He giggles, clearly amused by your wide-eyed expression, and then slaps a silver plastic bag against your shin using the hand that isn’t gripping his favorite black cloth.

“Did you bring me a present?” you ask, taking a seat on the pallet and lifting him up onto your lap. This time when you reach forward, he willingly lets you take the item from him instead of trying to take a chunk out of your hand.

You tear open the plastic, revealing its contents to be five teal-colored cookies.

“Wow, bud,” you murmur, holding one up between pinched fingers. The treat smells distinctively like vanilla. From what you’ve witnessed, you doubt Gideon is the type to offer his prisoners dessert with their meals which means these were probably stolen from somewhere. “Where did you find these?”

The baby only babbles unintelligibly in response, gesturing with his free hand in the direction of somewhere beyond the laser gate. You nod along, feigning understanding, but your eyes can’t help but drift to his collar when he turns his head. The keyhole for his collar is smaller than you expect to see which has you quickly theorizing there is not one universal key for all of the collars. If that theory is true, then it raises the difficulty of escaping yet another level.

With a sigh you cram the cookie into your mouth, finding the tiniest smidge of joy in its crunchiness.

“When we get out of here I’ll buy you a dozen boxes of these,” you tell him once you’ve swallowed, offering him one of the cookies. He coos excitedly and takes a large bite, uncaring of the blue crumbs that rain down upon his coat. “And once Din sees you, I bet he’ll want to spoil you rotten, too. He has a not-so-secret soft spot for kids.”

The baby’s head tilts, reacting to the name-drop by making a confused gurgling sound around his mouthful.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you scold gently, tapping his nose with your finger and laughing under your breath when it proceeds to scrunch up in an adorable manner. Leaning your head back against the wall, you’re unable to keep the note of wistful longing out of your voice as you explain, “Din is my soulmate. To the rest of the world, he’s known as Death. They’ll have you believe he’s someone to be feared and avoided at all cost. But luckily I’m here to tell you the truth.”

He stares up at you, snack seemingly forgotten in favor of listening intently to every word coming out of your mouth. Distantly you think you should be a little scared by how intense his gaze is, as if he’s attempting to look past your skin to the soul beneath, but you remind yourself all babies are innately curious and don’t know it’s rude to stare.

“He’ll never admit to it himself, but underneath all that beskar armor, he is the most socially inept being in the galaxy. I swear, bud, the first time I met him I thought it was impossible for him to say more than two words or else he’d hurt himself.” Your lips twitch at the memory, the smallest of smiles you can make without it feeling forced. “Still, despite his horrible first impression, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but—look, I know how crazy this sounds, okay? But I felt like I had to get to know him better. There was this voice in my head insisting we couldn’t just remain strangers. It took about ten thousand questions and three more meetings for me to earn his trust enough for him to take off his helmet and let me see his face.”

You take a deep breath and stroke your finger over the baby’s ears, needing to feel something other than the flaring pulse of pain from the bond. “One look at those beautiful brown eyes and I was done for.”

Saying Din’s eyes are brown feels sinful. It’s like saying the ocean is blue—accurate, but not detailed enough to describe its depth and volatility. There are days when his eyes are the shade of brown reminding you of leather bound journals—ancient and full of profound wisdom, meant to be admired and cherished for an entire lifetime. Other times, they are the kind of brown that matches your favorite chocolate pastry from the bakery down the street from your apartment—decadent and warm with the slightest hint of temptation.

“When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll all be happy together.”

And I’ll never get tired of seeing those brown eyes everyday.

~~

The hours start to bleed into one another. The baby snoozes in your lap, head pillowed on your thigh, but you have no idea if it’s night or day. Gideon had said he’d let you talk to Din ‘tomorrow’, but that doesn’t tell you how many days you’ve been here in total.

Your legs have started to feel numb from sitting in the same position so long, but the last thing you want is to wake him up by moving. The importance of him feeling safe enough to be vulnerable and sleep is not lost on you. His desire for attention and physical contact is so painfully obvious you hate thinking about how often he must have been ignored before your arrival.

As he sleeps, you’re unable to resist your curiosity any longer and carefully maneuver the piece of cloth out of his grip. Despite its aged and dirty appearance, it is still surprisingly soft to touch. Whatever article of clothing this was torn from must have been well-tailored, you think, imagining a hooded cloak or perhaps a long coat. Your nose twitches when you hold the cloth close to your face to better study it, reacting to the variety of odors embedded in the wool fibers. Maker knows how long the kid’s been dragging the fabric around with him without it being washed regularly, so you shouldn’t be surprised it has absorbed a couple dozen scents.

Still, the faint essence of smoke you detect swirls around in your brain even long after you’ve laid the cloth back over him like a makeshift blanket. Memories of your death start to resurface again despite your best mental efforts to push them away, causing your stomach to clench with nausea as you recall the horrific stench of charred remains.

It isn’t the same, you tell yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your head to clear itself. It can’t be because that day was fifty years ago and he’s only just a baby.

You repeat these thoughts like a mantra until, without meaning to, you fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~

You’re startled awake by hands seizing hold of your arms and pulling you up onto your feet without warning. You yelp at the sudden rush back to consciousness, brain scrambling to make sense of everything. Your eyes sweep the ground, panic washing over you like a bucket of cold water when you fail to see a tiny green body.

“It’s time, pet,” the twi’lek’s voice hits your ears and you turn to see her standing near the cell’s entrance, a lantern in one hand and a shiny blade in the other. “The Moff is expecting you.”

It takes you a minute to process in your frazzled state, but you realize it must be time to talk to Din. You’re shoved forward by whoever has your arms twisted behind your back, but you manage another quick survey of the cell. There is no sign the baby was ever here and you send a quick prayer to the Maker he had snuck back through the hole without anyone seeing him.

You have mixed feelings about not being blindfolded as you’re led through the underground labyrinth. On one hand, you get to observe everything and everyone you come across, making as many mental notes to flip through later when you’re alone. On the other, you think this must be an intimidation tactic. Gideon wants you to see everything so you know with absolute certainty how high the odds are stacked against you.

There are cells identical in appearance to yours on either side of you, carved into the tunnel rock and blocked from entry by laser gates. Except not one of them contains a prisoner. Either you have severely overestimated the size of Gideon’s collection, or he is purposefully keeping you separate from the rest for reasons known only to him.

Another surprising and unsettling observation you make is how many different types of species Gideon has employed as minions—human, rodian, trandoshan, you even spot a devaronian in the mix. Except for the Cupid twi’lek in front of you, everyone you come across is mortal. It does not make much sense to you why a seraph as powerful as Gideon is relying on mortal henchmen to help maintain control of his secret prison. Your gut instinct is insisting you’re missing a vital piece of information and you don’t like being in the dark about it.

The tunnel you’re being marched down eventually opens up into a larger cavernous space with several dozen lanterns hanging along the walls providing ample lighting. There are several crates spread about the area, and some have been pried open to reveal they are packed full of blasters and ammunition. You rack your brain trying to determine the purpose of the weapons. Yes, clearly, they are meant to cause havoc and destruction, but why are they here? Who or what is the target they will be aimed at?

Gideon stands in the middle of the room next to an empty chair. On his other side is a mortal human male, bald-headed with ginger facial scruff, who has two blaster pistols holstered around his chest and yet another one held by a droid arm attached to his backpack. Overkill much?

You’re shoved in the direction of the chair and gruffly told to sit. Huffing, you wordlessly obey and try not to squirm as all eyes lock onto you as if you’re going to perform a trick for their entertainment.

“You have a minute to record your message,” Gideon says, holding out a piece of paper towards you. “These words I have prepared must be included in those precious sixty seconds or you might find me reluctant to allow you to send a second recording.”

Is he serious? This isn’t the arrangement you previously discussed with him.

“Record?” you repeat, reluctantly taking the paper.

“I never said you would have the opportunity of speaking to Death face-to-face.” You want more than anything to tear the condescending smirk off his face with your fingernails. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that the mortal saying? You would know better than me, living amongst them in that quaint little apartment on Umbriel.”

Of course he knows about your home. Of kriffing course he does.

Heartbeat quickening, you avoid eye contact by scanning the few lines of words he’s written, eyebrows slowly inching up your forehead the more you read. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a demand to kill anyone. What does it mean?”

“Now is not the time for you to know,” he answers cryptically.

You shake your head, insisting, “Well maybe it should be. He knows me better than anyone. He’ll be able to tell I’m confused and—“

Gideon’s heavy sigh interrupts you. Then, quicker than you anticipate, he steps to the side of you and unsheathes his sword, its black blade positioned at your throat. It happens in one fluid movement, and the danger of your current predicament doesn’t sink in until the frightening humming notes of the weapon register in your eardrums seconds later. Your expressionless mask wavers, facial muscles tightening as you fail to refrain from flinching.

“All that is required from you, Cupid 1-1-7, is for you to speak from the heart and convince him to follow this one instruction. Do you think you can accomplish that?” he asks the question as if you have an actual choice. Like you can walk away now and there will be no hurt feelings.

But that is ridiculous. Everyone knows Cupids don’t get to have choices. Not when they are only given orders to obey.

You give him the tiniest of nods, careful not to let your skin make contact with the blade. “Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s begin.”

~~

The nav computer on the Razor Crest contains the coordinates of every moon and planet within each region of the galaxy. There is not one inch of space unknown to Din and yet his search for his angel continues to remain unsuccessful. He doesn’t consider the possibility of her being deceased for even half a second. As her soulmate he would have felt her passing the moment it happened. The bond he shares with his angel might be young and fragile still, but he doesn’t doubt her loss would eviscerate him in the same merciless manner he had done to Hess.

His inability to find her can only mean a powerful immortal is involved in her capture. As Death he roams the universe as a neutral entity. The only enemies he encountered—and he uses that term loosely—were foolish mortals thinking they could outlive their destined time by fighting him, only to ultimately meet their fated ends in the process. Prior to Hess’ demise, he had upheld his sworn creed to the universe and never once was tempted to defy the natural order or break a sacred rule.

Although admittedly strange to consider, the thought that maybe his angel’s capture isn’t meant to deliberately hurt him or her is one that keeps crossing his mind. Perhaps they are merely pieces in a game neither of them recognize nor want to willingly participate in.

As Din sits in the pilot’s seat, staring at the screen dispassionately through the visor of his helmet still coated with Hess’ blood, he is well-aware of Bo-Katan standing behind him, attempting to freeze him solid with her iciest glare.

She is the bravest of his reapers, unafraid to piss him off and counteract his opinions with her own. Yet ever since they left Hess’ body hanging in the warehouse and returned to the Crest, she’s not said one word to him, seemingly content to suffer in silence as a background presence while he contemplates whether he should be the one to track down the twi’lek Hess referenced or if he should have his reapers engage in the hunt.

“We’re going to talk about what happened,” Bo-Katan says coolly.

He grinds his teeth. “We will talk if and when I want to.”

“No.” She forcefully pulls at his chair, turning it around to face her. A snarl escapes him, animalistic and furious, but her green eyes don’t even blink, not the least bit intimidated. “You reaped a soul before it’s destined time. The universe isn’t going to easily forgive you for that. There will be consequences.”

“The only thing that matters is getting her back,” he answers. It’s the truth too. The second his angel was taken he knew there was not one rule he wouldn’t break to have her back in his arms—consequences be damned.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Bo-Katan asks, looking him over as if she no longer recognizes him. Her eyes linger just a second too long on his bloodstained gloves. “You’re losing your mind over a soulmate you’ve barely known a year.”

“Have you ever had someone you loved taken from you?” Din counters.

She scowls, eyes narrowing with loathing. “How dare you compare—”

“Answer the question!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the armrest hard enough the metal creaks ominously.

“Yes.” Her chin dips briefly towards her chest as she takes a second to compose herself. “You know I have.”

Din does know. Hours prior to every major catastrophic event in the galaxy’s history he’s felt an invisible leash wrap around him, pulling him in the direction of the tragedy and demanding he be there to personally reap the souls of the victims in the aftermath. He had witnessed the destruction of Bo-Katan’s homeworld when it was ravaged by a series of bombings orchestrated by an unknown enemy. Thousands had been killed, including Bo-Katan’s sister.

He doesn’t let the silence stretch too long, voice unwavering as he says, “And if you had the chance, would you not kill the one responsible for your pain?”

“It wouldn’t bring her back. Not any of them.”

Din sighs, glancing away, but Bo-Katan surprises him not even ten seconds later, apparently unfinished.

“I’d still do it though,” she says, not sounding the least bit guilty for admitting to hypothetical murder. “I’d carve the heart out of whoever set off those bombs and force-feed it to them.”

“We’re more alike than you may think,” Din says. “Think about that before you question my actions again.”

Any potential response from his reaper is interrupted by the beeping of an incoming transmission. He turns his chair at once, noticing the recorded message’s origin source is a random scrambling of letters and numbers. Every instinct is telling him he won’t like what he sees, but his hand reaches forward anyways, as if possessed by an unseen force, and presses the button to view the recording.

His angel appears as a holographic figure and immediately his eyes zero in on the collar around her neck. Anger threatens to course through his veins again, but Din forces his lungs to draw in a deep breath. Now is not the time to unleash his temper. Now is the time to listen and commit every word she says to memory, to study her every feature for any sign she’s been hurt.

“Death,” she begins, and his entire body tenses at the use of his title and not his name. It’s been so long since she’s addressed him as such, he knows it can’t be accidental. “I hope this message reaches you wherever you are. More than anything I wish I could be with you right now. I’m so sorry I broke my pinky promise to you, sweetheart. The way our bond is...I hate to think you’re feeling as much pain as I do.”

Din’s heart shatters when she starts to anxiously rub at her soulmate marking, sniffling quietly. His fingers itch with the overwhelming longing to hold her hand.

“I’m not safe here. What they’ve threatened to do to me...it scares me. I-I need to ask you a favor, a very important one.” A few teardrops escape the corners of her eyes and drip down her cheeks. Din bites the inside of his mouth so harshly he tastes blood. “If you want to protect me, then you must let go.”

The transmission goes dead.

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[stargazer-balladeer]

December 11: Going to a Tree Lighting Event (Ace Attorney)

Characters Included: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Franziska von Karma, Apollo Justice, Athena Cykes, Sebastian Debeste, Simon Blackquill

Notes: Time to get back to writing :D. I also realized while doing this that most of this characters have sad backstory and then there’s Phoenix- 😃😃 Hope ya’ll like this!

Warning: none

December Fics | MAIN PAGE |

Phoenix Wright

Phoenix is literally a child in a man. He would basically drag you outside when it starts to snow. You can see literal stars in his eyes whenever snow falls around you two.

Even though he might be busy with his job as a Attorney, he would always make time for you. He might overwork himself a bit during these times, though whenever you mention this, he would only say that he will finish all of his work so that he could spend more time with you-

I believe its his idea if you two go to a tree lighting event. It’s basically a tradition for him to attend one of this in a nearby town, with his family. And now, he wants to experience it with you. Because he wants to share something precious to him with you.

“Look, Nick!” You excitedly said as the tree started to light up before you. Whether it’s your first time or not, it always feels you with glee whenever the tree started to light up. Phoenix laughs as the crowd started “ooh”-ing at the sight.

Instead of looking at the lights, Phoenix was staring at you. His face filled with adoration and love. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. He pressed his lips to the side of your head. “I love you so much.”

“You’re being too cheesy right now.” “Aren’t I always?” “.. touché.”

Miles Edgeworth

Miles isn’t one for childish things, so he’ll be indifferent to things like snow. However, that was when he was still with von Karma. Now that he’s free from his mentor, he can finally relax and enjoy the simple things in life.

Miles might be very busy since he’s the Chief Prosector, but he’ll do his best to make time for you. It’s just that his work usually takes up all of his time, so it’s basically up to you to drag him away from his workaholic state-

Miles isn’t into childish things, but he enjoys seeing the tree lighting event. Him and his father usually watch this when he was young, and it was a good memory that Miles keep in his heart. So it’s mostl likely that he’ll be the one inviting you to the event.

You two watch from the distance as the tree started to light up. You were standing at the far end since you knew that Miles isn’t too fond of being in a crowded place. You don’t really mind as you watch in awe as the lights light up.

Miles have a smile on his face as he breathes out, making a puff of cold smoke. The memory of his father clouded his mind as his gloved hand tighten on yours. You noticed as you lean on him, making him stiffined. “Your father is very proud of you, you know. He wouldn’t want you to be sad on such a jolly occasion.” You softly mumbled as you gaze at the tree.

Miles looks at you in the corner of his eyes before smiling again. “Perhaps. Shall we go and walk around then?” “Are you saying that because you’re already cold?” “Nonsense. Let’s go.” “You’re blushing~.” “You’re imagining it.”

Franziska von Karma

Similarly to Miles, Franziska isn’t one to be into childish things. But unlike her adopted brother, she doesn’t have any memory of anything special. All her life, she’s been mentored by Manfred von Karma, kept inside all of the times. She was raised to never indulge in her desire. So now that she is no longer in his watch and now with you, she’s honestly lost. Though she would keep up her ‘know-it-all’ attitude.

Franziska is constantly busy with her life of being a Prosecutor and being with the Interpol. So she might not have much time with you. Whenever she’s free, she usually spends it with either still working or relaxing with you. So it’s best if you schedule when you two will go out so that she’s aware of it and can clear out her schedule.

No doubt that you’ll be the one suggesting it. Though there’ll be a low percent chance that she might suggest it, about 5%- Either way, Franziska would join you. She’s actually excited to see one, but she wouldn’t outwardly show it- 👀

You stared at Franziska as her eyes go wide and sparkle at the sight of the tree lighting up. It warms your heart to see her lowering her guard and let the child inside her run free. It’s rare to see Franziska like this so you basically bask at the sight of her awe face. (Though you secretly want to kill Manfred- 😃🔪)

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You said as you put your attention the humungous tree. Franziska blinks before coughing and looking away, with a tint of pink in her cheeks, clearly embarrassed to show such awe face- “it’s.. alright. Though I still think it’s foolish to waste time here instead of doing something else.” Franziska said. You sighed while smiling, same old Franzy-

“However, I would admit.. this is rather enjoyable.” She mumbled. You smiled widely as you intertwine your hands with hers. Even though she was looking away from you, you can tell she’s embarrassed with how red her ears are. “See~ I told you that this is enjoyable!” “Only a foolish fool would think like that.” “Then, that means that you’re a ‘foolish fool’ as well, Franzy!” “!! I- That isn’t what I mean-!”

Apollo Justice

Apollo tries to act mature but he really isn’t. He also doesn’t have any fond memories in his childhood years, but he did remembered that there was one time that Clay dragged him to a tree lighting event. He still remembers the awe as they watch the tree lighting up. Of course, when he grew up, he forget about his childish innocence. But it slowly resurfaces when he saw something related to the event.

Apollo is busy with paperwork, and heading the Khu’rain’s judicial system alongside Nahyuta. Even though his supposed uncle, half-brother and half-sister and the queen is helping him, it still result in him overworking. Nahyuta basically asks (force) you to drag his poor excuse of a brother to take a rest—

It doesn’t matter who invited who, Apollo is bound to forget about it. Can’t blame him really. This guy has a lot going in his plate so don’t fault him if he forgets about it—

You look at your watch as you frown sadly. “He’s late.” You mumbled sadly as you look up to look for your workaholic boyfriend. He promised he’ll be here to watch the event, but it doesn’t appear he’ll be appearing any time soon. And the event is about to start.

You sighed as you continued to wait, gazing at the tree while doing so. Your ears pick up some crunching noises and someone huffing, you turn around to see Apollo running towards you. You brightened up as you stood up properly instead of leaning on the wall and meet him halfway. He was huffing heavily while staring at you apologetically.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think that the trial would take so long-! Or that the cab that I’m riding would break down—“ “calm down, Apollo. It’s alright. I get it.” You reassured him as he manages to catch his breath. He looks like he was about to apologize again but you cut him off. “Look! The tree lighting is starting! C’mon!” “Woah! You almost made me fall-!” “Call it a payback for making me wait for so long!” “I thought you said you get it?!” “I take it back.” “[Y/N]-!”

Athena Cykes

Obviously, Athena is excited for this event. She never had a chance to go to one of this event, since she was basically kept inside the facility with her mother. Her childhood is basically black-and-white (similar to a certain samurai 👀). So it isn’t much of a surprise to see her bouncing up and down when she heard of the event-

Athena isn’t that busy since she finishes her work very fast. So she has plenty of time to spend it all with you. Though sometimes, she would get caught up with her work. But rest assured that you wouldn’t wait for too long since Athena is a fast reader and writer 😃

No doubt that she’ll be the one suggesting it- though she wouldn’t ask you to go with her, she drags you over there- no matter what your response is, you are going with her whether you like it or not 😃

“Are you excited to see the lights?!” Athena said as she pulls you towards the center of the plaza. You giggled at her enthusiasm as you tried to match her fast pace. “Ooh! This is my first time seeing it in person! I usually see it in the TV and stuff-!”

Her excitedness seems to radiate much more, as its started to rub on you. You manage to match her pace and walk beside her. “Well, let’s make this a memorable one then!” You were surprised to see Athena’s already wide smile widened some more as she side hugs you. “Yes!!”

“Why don’t we buy some candy first to snack while watching it?” “Aren’t you hyper as it is-?” “Nah, I mean.. a little sugar wouldn’t hurt, right?” “And when you mean ‘little’, you mean one bag, right?” “.. maybe.”

Sebastian Debeste

Sebastian would surely be surprised to hear about such event, since ya know, with his father and childhood- when he either asks you about it or research about it, his eyes would sparkle as he continued to listen/read. He would basically ask you if you two could go and see one (protecc this bby TwT-)

Sebastian is busy studying and doing Prosecutor work, afterall, he is being mentored by Miles Edgeworth. Though, Miles would grant him a vacation so that he could enjoy the holidays. However, I think Sebastian would still continue studying words and stuff so that he wouldn’t be much of a burden. It would be wise to drag him away before he overwork himself-

Sebastian would (shyly) ask you if you two could attend this event because he really wants to see one in person. Unless you don’t have a heart, your heart would melt at the sight of him. Please bring this poor child to the tree lighting event already-

Sebastian stares at the tree in amazement and awe as the lights started to dance around. He pulled your sleeves slightly. “Woah! How does the light do that?!” “Professional. Magic.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Though Sebastian didn’t hear it as he’s busy watching the lights.

You smiled at the sight as you let your hand intertwined with his. His ahoge shot upwards as he looks at you. You smiled gently at him. He blushed as he quickly revert his eyes back to the lights. You chuckled at him.

“We should do this more often.” “.. yeah, we could go kahooting!” “... you mean snowboarding?” “Oh.. um, yes! That’s it!”

Simon Blackquill

Simon is the kind of guy that looks like he doesn’t care about the holidays but he secretly likes it- even though he despises it because Taka can’t fly freely since its too cold for her/him to fly. He still likes the scenery and the coldness of it. As for the tree lighting event, it is kind-of a tradition for him and his sister to go to one. But ever since the UR-1 incident, it vanished. So he might go there in memory of the times where he and his sister fought while waiting for the event to start.

Simon is constantly busy with work. He is usually in-charge of interrogating witnesses and stuff, and he has paperwork to sign. He’s a workaholic like Miles, but he also spend his time practicing his samurai skill. But other than that two, he would find time to spend it with you.

He would not obviously say it outwardly, but he would hint about going there. So you either pick that up or you genuinely want to go there even if Simon doesn’t want to- either way, he isn’t complaining. This time, he’ll be seeing the tree lighting up with you instead of his obnoxious older sister.

“Are you sure you want to watch the tree lighting with me?” You asked as you two walk towards the plaza. He huffs before looking at you in the corner of his eyes. “If I’m not sure, then why would I be here?” You sighed. “Well, it’s hard to see if you are obligated to be here because of me or you’re here on your own free will.”

He stayed silent, so you decided to let it go. You two continued to walk, when you felt his hand over your shoulder, slightly pulling you towards him. You look up at him but couldn’t see much. “Hey, what-?” “If you don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss it.”

You blink before chuckling. “Is this your way of saying you’re here because you want to?” “Let your mind think what it wants to think.” “Then my mind is thinking of how adorable you are.” “Oh really now?” “Hmhm.” “You have a weird mind-“ “You are the definition of weird.” “Touché.”

[forever-rogue]

hi!! I saw ur lil fall drabble list and was wondering if maybe 63 with javi? (also, even if u don’t do this prompt, I just wanted to say thank u for your writing, there’s just something super warm about ur blog ) :’)

63. “It’s hand holding season.”

Oh 🥺 This is soft but I love it and one grumpy DEA man �� I hope you enjoy and thank you, mi amor 💕

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier sighed heavily as he slumped back in his seat, tossing the binoculars to the side. Rolling your eyes at him, you reached for the offending item and held them in to your eyes as you tried to see anything.

This stakeout had been quiet, oh so quiet, and was turning into a colossal waste of time. You almost envied Murphy for getting to stay back at the office to handle paperwork. It would at least have given you something to occupy your mind.

"This was a fuckin' set up," Javier sighed as he grabbed another cigarette, shoved it into his mouth and lit it. You made a noncommittal sound as you set the binoculars down in the center console and reached for your water bottle. Despite the fact that it was nearing Christmas, it was still warm in Colombia, and you were thankful for having to remembered to wear a light shirt and jean shirt, "they dropped this information to get us out here and waste time."

"You don't know that, Javi," you told him, reaching for the cigarette and pulling out of his mouth. He was momentarily stunned as he watched you bring it to your own lips and take a long drag before throwing it outside the window, "a horrible habit really."

"You're..." he trailed off as a little smirk grew on his face.

"What?" you teased before opening the door and sliding out of the passenger seat, "funny? Brilliant? Beautiful? A better agent than you? All things I already knew."

"Let's just go into the town and see if we can find anything," you suggested as he nodded, following closely on your tail.

It wasn't a town so much as a small village in the middle of the jungle, but it was quaint - sweet even. And it felt safe. Almost too safe. You wondered if that was all part of their plan or if you'd just become so jaded that anything that wasn't outwardly a threat became suspicious. Either way, there wasn't much there.

You stopped by and examined some of the stalls that boasted colorful fruit, berries you knew Javi adored, and delicious food, making small talk with the locals. Javier remained silent, following close behind and throwing in a word here and there.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he almost bowled you over when you made a pointed stop to buy some fruit.

"Sorry," he murmured as you just shook your head at him, paying a large sum, much larger than necessary, for the berries you'd asked for. The vendor didn't seem to want to accept but you insisted.

You continued on, popping a few of the ripe and juicy blueberries into your mouth. Christmas displays were everywhere and you took your time to look at everything. Javier was there too looking at everything, but in this case, everything was you.

"Javi?" you asked when you noticed her paused, an almost confused look on his face. You motioned for him to follow, "come on."

"Berries," he said as you offered him the bag to pick some out, "why berries?"

"I like them," you raised an eyebrow, "and they're your favorites too. Win-win?"

"Y-yeah," he agreed, nodding but still curious as he took a few berries in his hand, mulling them over before popping them in his own mouth, "wait."

"Hmm?" you turned back to him and watched as he pointed to the corner of your mouth.

"You've got some juice," he said as you tried to scrub the drying bits away, to no avail. He tutted in the back of his throat as he shook his head. Lifting his hand, he waited for a moment before reaching over to see if you would stop him. But when you didn't, he used his thumb to delicately wipe away the juice from the corner of your lips. You tried to ignore the feeling of his hand on, suppressing the warmth that was spreading throughout you, "all better."

"Thanks," you murmured softly before continuing on, heading towards where you spied a large Christmas tree display. Javi had been stunned into silence, but quickly caught up to you, trying to make sense of the feelings that were bubbling up much stronger suddenly.

"Hey," he said softly as you studied him, finding a light pink tinge creeping into his cheeks, "give me your hand."

"My hand?" you asked with a laugh as he nodded, "whatever for?"

"Its...hand holding season," he blurted out, "it'll help us blend in. Just like all those other couples."

"Hand holding season?" you repeated as he nodded.

"Yeah, you know, Christmas, it's all about couples and stuff."

"Or we could just be friends?" you offered up as he shook his head.

"Not good enough," he insisted as he reached for your hand. You didn't even bother to stop him. You had no desire to.

The rest of your time in the small village and largest uneventful, which turned out to be a nice change of pace. You were sure that Javi had been right this was some sort of set up to get you to look away from something else or just to throw you off the Escobar's scent....but for once you didn't mind.

You enjoyed walking around with Javi, talking about anything and everything as you looked around. It was easy - fun. Part of it even felt so real, like you were an actual couple instead of just paying pretend. Javi just have gotten in the little charade too because by the time you to the car, he was still holding your hand, and your fingers were still laced together.

"Javi," you held up your clasped hands as you moved to open your door, " I think we're good now."

"What if...what if I don't want to let go?" he asked softly as you looked up to meet his honeyed eyes. They were searching yours, looking for some sort of sign that you wanted this too. And you did. You had for a long time.

"You don't have to," you whispered softly, fighting back a huge grin.

"I think...God, this probably going to sound crazy, but I'm in love with you," he decided to just get it all out before blabbering too much and making a completle fool of himself.

"Yeah?" you asked as he bit his lip but nodded. It had taken him a long, long time to put together the pieces but here he was, finally, "okay."

"What?" he dropped your hand out of surprise as you laughed and crossed your arms over your chest, "all I get is an okay? I just told you-"

"I know," you stopped him, "me too. It took you long enough to realize...I thought...maybe you never would. Or that I was setting myself up for failure. What made you finally realize?"

"The berries," he admitted as broke into a fit of giggles, "what?!"

"I hate berries," you admitted, "they're probably my least favorite fruit."

"Then why did you..."

"Because they're your favorites, Javi. I know you always enjoy them," you whispered as the softest look crossed his features, "and you never treat yourself to anything, so you basically forced my hand. The rest are yours by the way."

"Holy shit," he whispered as he waited in amusement, shaking his head, "fuck. This whole time. I'm a dumbass. If I wouldn't have been so stupid-"

"Javier?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you gonna kiss me or...do you need a few more years to get there first?"

"Fuck you," he grinned as he put his hands on both sides of your face, pulling you gently towards him as he crashed his lips onto yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Not too bad," you said when you broke apart for some air. He just laughed lightly, "might need to work on that a little."

"Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh," you teased, "unless that's the best you've got it."

"You're just asking for it-"

"Yeah, Javi, I am," you whispered in his ear before kissing him again, "what are you going to do to about it?"

"Let's get out of here."

[440mxs-wife]

The Hunter’s Princess - Chapter 4: Meeting New People

Pairing: Dean x OFC Kira (eventual), Prince!Dean x OFC Lady Kira. Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Prince!Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Gabriel, King!John, Queen!Mary, Lucifer and assorted minor characters.

Chapter 4 Word Count: 4020+

Warnings: Character crossover, accident with slight injury, fluff. Each chapter will have individual warnings as needed.

A/N: This is from some material that’s been rattling around in my head from another project that changed direction. Couldn’t let all this content go to waste, though, so here it is. It’s a work-in-progress, and I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you want to be tagged in this series, send me a message!

Thank you and happy reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Kira?" he whispered.

Lady Kira lifted her head from resting on top of her knees. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"It's me, Dean. Don't you recognize me?" he asked.

By this time, Sam and Castiel had reached the door and were peering inside. Both of them were stunned to see someone who looked like Kira, but at the same time, wasn't Kira.

Dean could feel the tension radiating from Kira as he glanced between her and the men standing at her door. "Whoa, sweetheart, it's okay. The tall, shaggy-haired man is my brother, Sam. The guy in the trenchcoat is Castiel. He's an.....Angel of the Lord," Dean mumbled.

Lady Kira looked at all three men and unexpectedly burst into laughter. "An angel?? A real, honest-to-goodness angel? Where are your wings then?" she asked.

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion at her question. "Only my soulmate can see my wings," he replied in his gravelly voice.

"Oh. I suppose that's convenient. That way, you know for sure who your soulmate is," she reasoned.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. If Kira couldn't see Cas' wings, then she wasn't his soulmate. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

Lady Kira took a deep breath. "I was in my pub, getting ready to pour a beer for someone. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here. Speaking of which, where exactly is 'here'?" she inquired.

"That, I'm afraid, will take a bit of explanation. We should get some food, then we can fill you in on the situation," Dean replied.

Lady Kira nodded in agreement. "Very well," she said. As foreign as her surroundings and companions were, there was something familiar about the three men. For some reason, they seemed to put her at ease. She had a feeling that they wouldn't let any harm come to her, that they would protect her at all costs. Eventually she realized she would have to put her trust in someone, if she had any kind of hope of returning home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Prince Samuel and Castiel followed behind Kira, who walked with Prince Dean to the castle's main hall. To say Kira felt a bit self-conscious was an understatement. Here she was, about to compete for the opportunity to become wife to one of the princes and eventually queen. The stakes couldn't be higher, which naturally set her nerves on edge.

From the outside, she wondered if it appeared to others as though she was trying to gain some sort of an advantage. Kira was concerned at the amount of time she had been spending lately with the princes. She didn't have a manipulative bone in her body, but the other competitors might not regard her behavior as innocent. They may view it as the princes showing favoritism towards her, and as such may even lead others to cause trouble for her. For these reasons and to safeguard the locket, she was going to have to be vigilant at all times.

As they entered the main hall, Prince Dean pulled them to a stop, because his mother, Queen Mary was approaching from the opposite direction. He bowed to his mother as Kira gave her a deep curtsy. "Mother? May I present Lady Kira of the Eastern province. Lady Kira, this is my mother, Queen Mary," Dean said.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," Kira remarked, resuming a standing position but keeping her head tilted slightly downward.

"Pleased to meet you as well, Lady Kira," Queen Mary replied as a flicker of recognition crossed her face. "Oh! You met my sons recently, I believe? They stopped in your establishment for a drink on their way home?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I had the pleasure of meeting your sons almost a week ago. Although, I must confess, I regret that I did not immediately recognize them. It had been a long day, and I deeply apologize if I offended them in any way," she explained.

Queen Mary leaned in and said softly, "On the contrary, my dear. I believe you made quite a favorable impression on them, and on Castiel as well," she grinned. "What brings you here? Are you competing in the Princes' Challenge?" she asked as she stepped back.

"I am, Your Majesty. I appreciate the opportunity, and promise to faithfully represent my province to the best of my ability," Kira replied.

"Well, I'm sure you'll perform admirably, and I'm looking forward to learning more about you, Lady Kira. It was lovely to have met you," she finished.

Kira gave the queen another deep curtsy as she continued on her path. With her free hand, Kira covered her face in embarrassment as she blushed furiously.

Prince Dean turned to look at her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Kira shook her head, tears threatening. "I feel like I just made a huge fool of myself in front of your mother. Admitting to her I didn't recognize you when you came to my pub. You and your brother are the crown princes, everyone knows who you are, for goodness' sake! Oh, I've really made a grand impression on your mother. Unforgettable, so she'll remember why I should be shown the door. Why can't I just learn to keep my big mouth--" she was stopped by Prince Dean's index finger on her lips.

"You were going to say, 'closed', right?" he said, to which Kira nodded. "First of all, my brother and I didn't announce ourselves as the 'crown princes' for a reason. Probably for the same reason you don't announce yourself as 'Lady Kira'. You want people to know you by your character, not your title." More nodding from Kira.

"Second of all, I know my mother, and you're no closer to being shown the door than I am. She appreciates people who speak their mind and are not afraid to voice an opinion," Prince Dean explained. "Okay? Will I see you at dinner?" he asked.

Kira met his soft green eyes and all she could do at that moment was keep nodding her head. "Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness. I believe I'm in need of some rest before dinner. If I may take my leave from you now, I'll see you at dinner, Your Highness," she replied softly.

"By all means, Lady Kira. Until dinner," he remarked, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. Kira gave a small curtsy to the prince, a smile and nod to Castiel, then headed upstairs to her room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About an hour later, Sarah came in to wake Kira so that she could take a bath and wash her hair. Kira wanted to freshen up from her earlier tour of the gardens and marketplace. She relaxed into the warm water and allowed her concerns about meeting the queen slip below the surface.

Twenty minutes later, sufficiently cleaned and refreshed, Kira stepped out of the tub into a waiting towel held for her by Sarah. Kira asked her if she would please lay out the gown that had been previously chosen to wear at dinner, while she dried off and put on undergarments.

Kira was putting on her jewelry when there was a knock on her door. Sarah opened it, and Rowena entered, looking stunning as always. She had on a purple silk gown with delicate gold thread woven throughout the fabric. Her long red tresses cascaded down her back in waves, pinned up on the sides by clips encrusted with crystals.

"Rowena, you've outdone yourself, you look fantastic!" Kira gushed. She took note of Kira's appearance as well. She had on the pastel green silk gown that Rowena had provided. Kira's light chestnut hair was curled into ringlets and of course, she was wearing her mother's locket.

"Oh darlin', no one will be able to take their eyes off of you. You look beautiful, my dear. Come, let's head down to dinner. Don't want to be late, considering you've already made an impression with the queen," she smirked as Kira groaned. "Oh come now, it couldn't have been that bad. If it was, they would have asked you to leave by now. Let's go, dearie," she insisted.

Dinner was an interesting affair. The rest of the competitors showed up and attended the dinner meal. Kira had already "met" Serena, and learned at dinner that she was from the Northern province. Christina came from the West, while Adriana was from the South.

Kira already knew that Serena was not her biggest fan, and it appeared Christina was joining her camp instead of Kira's. Adriana seemed kind, or at least not outwardly hostile. She and Kira spent most of dinner talking about their respective homelands.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm telling you, Lucifer, I saw it at dinner tonight! That locket you're looking for, that allows you to move throughout multiple dimensions? It's hanging around Lady Kira's stupid neck," Serena insisted.

"Really? How interesting. I believe I also saw a certain witch named Rowena McLeod hanging around with her. I've dealt with her before, and she could present a problem," Lucifer made a tsking sound. "And here I'd hoped we could do this without things becoming complicated," Lucifer pouted.

"It doesn't have to be complicated, Lucifer. Lady Kira is participating in the Princes' Challenge. The events are not exactly for the faint of heart, I mean....accidents can happen," Serena remarked.

"Hmm. I suppose you're right. But for now, we'll bide our time, study Lady Kira a bit more before we strike. For your part, try not to completely alienate her, just keep your distance. Sooner or later, she'll let her guard down. When she does, we shall relieve her of that cumbersome piece of jewelry. Then there'll be no one to stop me," Lucifer finished darkly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Kira decided to go back to the marketplace and take a closer look at what the vendors had to offer. Her previous marketplace outing with Castiel was a little sidetracked by Prince Dean and his brother. By the time the princes had caught up to her and Castiel, she had grown a little tired and asked Prince Dean to continue the tour another time.

For her attire, Kira had chosen a pale blue cotton day dress. As she wandered among the carts, she observed the jewelry makers, food and drink vendors and even glassblowers. She marveled at the variety of offerings in the castle marketplace. She made her way toward the food vendors for some breakfast.

Kira purchased a fruit pastry and went on to the jewelry maker. She found gifts for her pub staff, necklaces with heart-shaped pendants. One was made of turquoise, one of rose quartz and one of black onyx. She found a hat for Alfred at the milliner's cart where yesterday, she and Castiel were trying on her hats. Kira still had other gifts to get for her house staff, but decided to come back another day.

On her way back to the castle, Kira saw a young girl standing next to the apple cart. She looked no more than about seven years old with blond hair and brown eyes. She gazed longingly at the apples, and Kira could only wonder if it had been a while since her last meal. Kira approached the young lady and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. The girl whipped her head around and when her eyes locked on Kira's, she could see they were full of fear.

Kira knelt down until she was at eye level with the child. "My name is Kira," she said gently. "Can you tell me your name, little one?" she asked.

She stared at Kira, bottom lip trembling. Kira could tell she was trying to decide whether to run or whether to stay and talk. "Danielle," she whispered.

Kira stuck out her hand in greeting. "That is a very beautiful name. I am so happy to meet you, Danielle," Kira replied as she shook hands and the young lady giggled.

From the bag in her left hand, Kira took out the pastry she was saving for her breakfast and handed it to Danielle. She looked at Kira in confusion, and she nodded to assure Danielle that it was okay.

In response, Danielle gave a slight curtsy. "Thank you, Lady Kira," she said shyly. Kira must have given her a confused look in return, because she giggled again. "I saw you yesterday with Prince Dean, Prince Samuel and Castiel, your ladyship," Danielle explained.

As the child ate the pastry, Kira bought six apples for Danielle to take home, along with a baguette of bread and a block of cheese. They started on their journey towards Danielle's house, then Kira remembered that she had briefly put down her other packages. The child had stopped in the middle of the street and looked around to see why Kira was no longer at her side.

Kira felt the hairs on her neck stand on end and heard the fast approaching hoofbeats. She shouted at Danielle to get out of the way, but knew Danielle had no time. Kira ran towards the child. Kira wrapped her arms around Danielle and rolled with her out of the way, narrowly missing the galloping horse herself. Danielle's belongings went flying and the sleeve of her dress was torn, but she was alive.

When Kira sat up, a sharp pain hit her on the side of her head. She felt something trickling down the side of her face and used her hand to wipe it away. When Kira looked at her fingers, she saw that it was blood, which caused a wave of dizziness to crash over her. "Danielle? Where are you, sweetie?" Kira croaked.

"Lady Kira! Are you all right?" Danielle exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks. Kira brought her hand up to wipe Danielle's tears away, then it fell limp and all she saw was black. "Oh no!! Somebody help us!!" Danielle cried.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira awoke to the sound of hushed voices, standing in the corner of the room, deep in conversation. She turned to see an anxious blond-haired, seven-year-old sitting by her bedside. The child was holding Kira's hand while trying to keep her tears at bay. "Hello, Danielle," Kira said, smiling weakly.

She jumped up from her chair and ran towards the people in the corner. "She's all right! She's awake! Lady Kira is awake!" she exclaimed.

At hearing the child's announcement, everyone turned in Kira's direction. Castiel and Rowena came up behind Danielle, with Rowena placing her hands on Danielle's shoulders. "Calm yourself, sweet bairn," she soothed, trying to contain the child's excitement.

"Castiel, would you please take Danielle down to get something to eat?" Kira asked. "She's had quite a morning," she gave Castiel a small smile.

"Absolutely, Lady Kira. Please follow me, little one," Castiel said, smiling and holding out his hand for her. She took his hand and they left the room.

Rowena sat down next to the bed and took Kira's hand. "Are you all right, dearie? Danielle said you were almost hit by a runaway horse!"

Kira explained what happened in the marketplace, from picking up the trinkets, to seeing Danielle, to rolling with her out of the way from the horse.

Rowena's hand flew to cover her mouth. "My goodness, Kira....You saved Danielle's life," she said softly.

Kira closed her eyes. "Rowena, I did what anyone else would've done. I bought a hungry little girl and her family some food, and got her out of the path of that horse," she muttered.

"Och, so modest. You're doing exactly what you would've done at home, protecting the innocent," Rowena observed with a smile. "Your hunter instincts are serving you well here. That's why you'll win at the Princes' Challenge and get home to your Sam and Dean," she remarked with a wink.

"Let's hope so, Rowena," Kira replied as the door opened and Danielle ran in. She smiled as Danielle tried to wedge herself in between Rowena and the bed. Rowena chuckled as she got up from the chair so that the child could sit down next to her rescuer. "Hey there, little one. Are you okay?" Kira asked.

She nodded enthusiastically and looked up at Castiel. "I got to have a cup of hot chocolate, another pastry and I got to meet the queen," she giggled. "She's very pretty and so very nice."

"How did you....? Castiel? How did she get to meet the queen?" Kira wondered.

"I believe I can answer that," a familiar voice answered. Prince Dean said as he and Prince Samuel stepped into Kira's room. "Mother was with us in the dining room. We were having a snack, when Castiel brought this sweet young lady in. She told us what happened in the marketplace, that you saved her life. Are you all right?" Prince Dean asked softly.

Kira struggled to get up to a sitting position, so Prince Dean helped her as Prince Samuel put a pillow behind her back for support. "Thank you. I'm fine, I promise, except a really huge headache. That, and I wish everyone would not make such a fuss about what I did for Danielle," she said. Kira raised her hand to check where earlier she had felt the blood, and instead felt a bandage.

"We asked the royal physician to come and check on you to make sure there were no serious injuries. He said you'll be fine with some rest and a change of bandage now and then. And what you did for Danielle is a big deal, Lady Kira," Prince Dean insisted. "You saved her life." He held her hand in his, with his thumb drawing little circles on the back. As he did this, Kira felt a calming sensation wash over her. She started to feel a bit drowsy as she melted into his touch.

"Good news, as Dean suggested, I spoke to Father, and he agreed to postpone the first challenge for a day or two. That way, all participants will have a chance to compete at full health," Prince Samuel remarked.

"I appreciate that, thank you. Please thank His Majesty for that as well. After a day or two, I should be ready to take my place among the other competitors," Kira affirmed.

"Looking forward to it, Lady Kira," Prince Dean replied, smiling. "Well, we should probably leave you to rest," he said as he stood up from his chair. He gave a lingering kiss to Kira's forehead, winking before he stepped back.

To Rowena, he directed her to keep an eye on Kira and not let her overdo things. She acknowledged his request with a simple curtsy, something which would never have happened in her side of the multiverse. Kira covered her mouth with her hand to keep Rowena from seeing the laughter. Soon after the princes and Castiel departed, Kira felt her eyelids start to drift shut again, so she gave in to her need for sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lucifer was pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't understand, Serena. Lady Kira was knocked to the ground, unconscious while saving that little girl. You had the perfect opportunity to get that locket. So why don't I have it?!?" he shouted.

"There were too many people around, helping her. Otherwise, I would've snapped that locket right off her pretty little neck," Serena muttered.

"All anyone in the whole castle is talking about is how she saved that kid's life," he sneered. "That's going to make it 1000 times harder to steal the locket. We'll just have to take our time and plan carefully. When the moment is right, we'll reclaim what should rightfully be ours anyway," Lucifer said ominously.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everyone took a seat at the map table. "So, you said my situation would take a bit of explanation," Lady Kira started. She waved her hand at Dean as a signal to begin.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Let's start with the basics. You know our names, so how about we get yours?" he asked.

Lady Kira finished chewing her bite of pizza before answering. "I am Lady Kira of the Eastern Province. Although I hold a title, it's pretty much in name only. I'm not a wealthy woman. My father left a mountain of debt when he died, and I've had to sell off parts of my land to survive.

"I own a pub, where I employ three women as servers. The pub provides me with enough of an income to run my household plus a little more. Keeps me from selling off more of my lands unless absolutely necessary. Without the pub, I also wouldn't be able to help take care of my townspeople in the ways that they need," she finished softly.

Dean studied the woman before him. She looked so like his Kira, but at the same time, he knew she was her own person. Lady Kira had the same fire, determination, beauty and generosity that he had loved about his Kira since the day they met.

"I'm sure you do an admirable job of it as well. My brother and I, along with this guy--" Dean gestured with his thumb towards Castiel--"we also help people. We hunt monsters, like werewolves, demons, vampires and vengeful spirits. We try to save as many people as we can, without attracting a lot of attention to ourselves," he replied.

The three men waited for some sort of a reaction from Lady Kira. "Gentlemen, I come from a long line of hunters. My father was a hunter, like you, and already told me about all of this. My mother used to hunt with him, but sort of retired when I came along. When I turned a certain age, she gave me this," she answered. From underneath her tunic, she pulled out a chain, to which was attached a locket.

"That's exactly like the one my--er--the Kira that belongs to this world has," Dean remarked. "It's what sent her to your world and brought you here," he explained.

"Hmm. I was afraid of that. See, this locket's magic works off of a lunar eclipse. There's only one way it can be activated without an eclipse. And that's if the wearer is in the presence of outside magical forces," Lady Kira pondered.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and frowned. Castiel picked up on their exchange and asked, "Rowena?", to which the brothers nodded.

"She was working on some kind of spell from the Book of the Damned. And since we won't let her keep it in her library, she had to come here," Sam explained.

"Cas, can you get word to Gabriel? He seems to be the only one who can move between dimensions without having to wait for a lunar eclipse. And if he can, you can bet that Lucifer can as well. Rowena has to make doubly sure that nothing happens to that locket," Dean said grimly.

"Lucifer? The Lucifer? As in Satan, Prince of Darkness, that Lucifer?" Lady Kira asked incredulously.

"The very same, sweetheart. He's been a major pain in the ass in this world, and I'll bet he's not much better in your world," Dean replied.

"I've obviously heard of him, but haven't had much, if any, occasion to interact with him. Something tells me that I don't want to, either," Lady Kira agreed.

"You're right about that, you don't want to have anything to do with him," Cas remarked. "I'll go see what Gabriel has in the way of information," he promised, then disappeared.

"We'll find out when the next lunar eclipse is. Hopefully it won't be too many days from today," Dean grumbled.

"Excuse me, is there somewhere that I can take a bath, get cleaned up? Perhaps a change of clothes?" Lady Kira asked.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "Yeah sure, sweetheart. Follow me and I'll show you. We have a bathtub, or you can take a shower. As far as a change of clothes, there are some clean ones in your room. I'm sure my Kira won't mind," Dean replied softly.

Part 5 here!

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Tags: @janicho88 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @supernatural-jackles @babygurltt

The Hunter’s Princess Series tags: @flamencodiva

[quintessence-sentimentalist]

Hey, thanks for answering my Hay LinxEric question. Now, how would you fix IrmaxJoel?

Sorry for the delay on this—I haven’t been in quite the right mindset for the in-depth analyses as of late, and the question of how to fix this couple is a tricky one.

Don’t get me wrong, it is a very good one. Compared to a number of the other relationship fix-its I’ve considered (CxC, Nigel x Taranee) where I haven’t had a particular attachment to the couples, I actually have a lot of feelings about and adoration for Irma and Joel. And while that can also be said about HLxE, my perspective on Irma x Joel is a bit different.

Namely, the fact that I love their platonic relationship as it was presented in canon, and would actually have been pretty aligned if they were kept that way for the rest of the series.

(But of course, we couldn’t even have that, as any sort of acknowledgement of their relationship was wiped out of existence, and then referenced out of nowhere and without explanation many, many issues later with Joel thinking on how “Aw, we used to be friends, but not anymore.”)

I’m not saying I don’t ship them romantically (I do, and we’ll get into my fix-it of that later on in this ramble), but it wouldn’t have necessarily been a deal-breaker if they didn’t end up together. Admittedly, I’d probably be eating those words if Irma and Joel were still hanging out by the time Stephen (or, really, any brand-new love interest) came into the story, if only because throwing Irma into a romantic relationship without any real on-page emotional buildup doesn’t sit right with me no matter how I slice it. To be fair, that’s also just a me thing, because I prefer my ships to have a strong personal foundation over having the characters be drawn together primarily because of looks, etc., so there’s definitely room for different views. 

For me personally, though, the only way I’d really be behind a non-IxJ endgame is if a) Irma didn’t end up with anyone (which could have been great! The other girls were single at various times in the series, but having Irma be the one who’d never been in any sort of relationship would have been good to show that it’s more than okay to not have a significant other at that age), or b) Irma ended up in a relationship with someone else with whom she already has a long-established emotional connection (i.e. I’m not counting an old summer camp crush that we’ve only just learned of when it’s convenient to the in-story events). Seeing as that second option pretty much leaves us with either the other girls (which is fair) or Martin (not as sold on this one, but it’s a little bit better than their animated series counterparts), that would potentially have to be a fix-it as well.

Regardless of Irma’s relationship status—in a similarly meaningful one or not in one at all—let’s look at a fix for platonic Irma x Joel. Honestly, this one can just be summed up as LET THEM REMAIN CLOSE FRIENDS.

Really, it’s… it’s not that hard. Kandrakar knows that I love these girls and their bond, but I also like to see their lives outside of Guardianship, and that means that they can have other friends beyond each other. (Which they did try to do with Taranee and having Luke and Sheila, and I appreciate the effort, even if it wasn’t really executed in the best way.) Irma and Joel were something special, with their shared adoration for Karmilla and complementary senses of humor and, frankly, the fact that neither of them initially considered each other in a different sort of light. They had so much in common, their personalities resounded with each other so beautifully—all these qualities building up to what I’d dare call soulmate material—and all either of them can think is, “Hey, this is an awesome friendship!” And I adore that.

Which is why I can’t fathom why they’d suddenly do away with a relationship that had been lovingly (and largely platonically) tended to on the side for a number of story arcs.

I’m going to caveat that I have only read New Power and beyond but once in my life so far, and a good number of years ago, to boot. I have no actual recollection of whether or not there was any sort of explanation for why the two of them stopped hanging out (besides that offhand comment that they just don’t anymore, which was given to us… oh, three or four arcs later?). No idea if there was any sort of confrontation between Joel and Stephen and Joel out-of-character gets jealous—I wouldn’t put it past them to have done this (which is awful), but given the notoriousness of vanishing things without any warning that inspired this whole damn fix-it series, there’s a fighting chance for it to have gone either way. 

Regardless of what actually happened in canon, there is no concrete reason why Irma having a healthy, happy friendship with someone of the same gender as her new significant other had to be done away with. Even if it could be argued that Irma and Joel had romantic chemistry and ooooooohhhh that could be a threat to her new relationship (um, no.), the two of them had already dealt with those potential feelings back at the end of the Book of Elements/beginning of the Ragorlang arc, and while they didn’t deny that the potential was there, there was unspoken agreement that both were more comfortable as friends at the moment. If we were to use that attraction as a justification against keeping their friendship around while one or both were in other relationships, it just wouldn’t—in a very apt turn-of-phrase—hold water. And there isn’t a reason at all to drop it if there’s no romantic relationship(s) happening whatsoever.

So yeah. Base-level fix-it for Irma and Joel is keep their friendship.

But let’s take it a step further and look at a fix-it for an IxJ romance. I’ll admit that I volleyed around a couple different thoughts about this, even going so far as being sold on an end-of-series-payoff slow-burn like I originally thought we got with Cornelia and Peter (back when I thought the series ended at issue #74 like the Philippines comics did). And while that could have worked for them, I thought back and realized that so many of the canon ships had big moments like that. Will and Matt have their Big Damn Kiss after facing off against Cedric and Matt discovering the truth. Hay Lin and Eric have their joyful spur-of-the-moment kiss when Hay gives him the CD he wanted. As mentioned, Cornelia and Peter have their supposedly-final issue culmination of long-brewing chemistry. And of course, let’s not forget Cornelia and Caleb’s fairytale romance in the early days.

Really, all the relationships—except Taranee and Nigel, although the tradeoff for that was long, drawn-out conflict—officially kick off with a fireworks-level big bang. It’s a Moment when the couples come together, something to be remembered. And with Irma being Irma, loveable loudmouth as she is, it’d make sense for her to have something like that as well—a blurted confession, maybe, or a deep, passionate first kiss.

That’s why I’m of the camp that would have a quiet, but no less meaningful resolution to Irma and Joel’s romantic feelings.

We all know Irma’s the outgoing type—natural comedian always on-hand, outspoken to a fault, passionate and unabashedly loud. But a number of times over the series, we’ve seen her have to get introspective or at least a bit more low-key (oftentimes in the wake of an outburst that hurts someone else). These quieter moments usually offer some great character studies and development for Irma, and I’d like to think that, if given the chance to accept and want to act on her deeper feelings for Joel, it would happen in a similar way.

Just give me the two of them hanging out like usual, but maybe with not as much chatter. Joel is playing his guitar, Irma’s kicked back with a magazine that she’s only half-paying attention to as she listens. Eventually, the magazine drops further and further from her face as her gaze drifts fully to Joel and that goofy face he makes whenever he hits that one chord and that warm fond feeling she gets…

Her thoughts skitter to a sudden stop, but she tries not to let it show outwardly. It’s been a long time since Irma’s thought of Joel in any more-than-friendly terms, probably not since the mix-up with the note to Karmilla that first brought the idea to her mind. It had been an accident, and maybe she hadn’t fully realized—or at the very least hadn’t been ready—to confront those feelings by that point, but the inklings were there. And they’re still here, and maybe a little bit more than just inklings, and maybe she’s actually ready to admit them.

So Irma sets down the magazine altogether, and carefully slides a little closer to Joel’s side. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed, but he looks up only in faint curiosity—not at all startled or displeased. Irma just returns with a small smile, maybe a little nervous (is this too much too fast? Does he even feel the same way anymore?). But there’s no need for worry—or even words, for that matter—as the two of them have always been so in-sync, and are in perfect alignment on this in particular. That’s clearly proven when Joel grins back and carefully shifts his body and guitar so Irma can comfortably settle in right next to him.

(There are words later, of course, if only to make absolutely certain they’re both on the same page, and just because hearing it out loud makes it feel so real. And really, things don’t change that much in their relationship—they still laugh and crack jokes and tease each other to no end, just with a bit more cuddling and kisses and comfy quiet between them, where neither feels the need to fill the silence just because.

And because I’m predictable, a situation wherein Joel gets clued in to the Guardian Secret would involve Joel being very understanding and patient… and also terrifyingly aware that he is never again going to win in a water fight against his girlfriend.)

So. Apparently I had more thoughts on Irma and Joel fix-its than I thought, but I also have zero regrets and too damn many feelings.

[yellowsugarwords]

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Tender Tending”

Title: Tender Tending Characters: Ericson Kids Summary: Clementine is always pushing herself, but the group is concerned because she's recovering from her head injury. When she passes out, they decide to make sure she takes it easy and stays on bedrest, despite her protest. While Clementine won't admit it, even though she's reluctant at first, part of her likes being taken care of. Author's Note: I’m gonna write this in the context that everyone is alive so enjoy :) Requested By: voltagedestiny support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“Where’s Clementine?”

Mitch, distracted and whittling something onto a wooden stick, shrugged. “Dunno, haven’t seen her or AJ in a while.”

Marlon sighed, visibly irritable, turning to the front lawn’s picnic table. There sat Louis, Violet, Ruby, Aasim, and Tenn. “Anyone? Does anyone know where she went?”

“Probably on a walk,” Violet said, shrugging, distracted in playing competitive solitaire with Louis. They had to get creative with their games these days. Regular old war was getting stale, and so was plain solitaire. They had to spice it up.

Marlon tucked his clipboard under his left arm and started for the table. “Ruby, how is her recovery coming?” He planted his hands on the surface, jolting Violet and Louis’ game. “Clementine’s.” He clarified.

Ruby was jostled from watching the game — the cards now scattering the table — and glanced up at Marlon. She shrugged, hugging her arms. “Slow but steadily. Head injuries take a lot of time.” Marlon chewed on his lower lip then nodded, standing upright. “What is it, are you worried about her?”

“Yes,” Marlon scoffed. “She has a head injury, and she’s missing right now.”

“Clem is smart.” Ruby said, nodding tenderly. “She won’t push her limits.”

Just then, the front gates of Ericson slammed. When the group turned to see what it was, they noticed Clementine fumbling with the lock, AJ at her side attempting to help. In one arm, Clem held a sling full of firewood. In the other, she held a dead squirrel by its tail. She was hunched over, the weight of what she was carrying getting the better of her. All the while, AJ fumbled and succeeded with opening the lock and holding open the gates.

Marlon’s shoulders tensed, turning back to face the table of fellow onlookers. “What was it that you were saying?” Marlon groaned to Ruby. He slapped his clipboard down on the table and started for her. Behind him, the rest of the table scrambled to their feet.

“Clem!” Louis hollered, watching as she crumpled to her knees, huffing as she abandoned the logs she’d gathered. Weakly, she set the squirrel down beside them and rubbed her shoulder. She adjusted her head-bandage mindlessly. The small gesture was enough.

“Clem, you can’t go out and do that.”

“Do what?” She countered to Marlon’s claim, squinting as she glanced up at everyone. She looked away, their stares overwhelming. “I’m fine, my shoulder’s just sore.”

“That’s not what we’re concerned about.” Aasim said. Clem glanced up, brows squinting, as if offended by the statement. Aasim swatted at the air. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“You will,” Marlon said, arms crossed, glaring down at her. “Clem, you’re overworking yourself. You have a head injury. You need to take it easy.”

“I’m fine, guys.”

“You have a concussion, Clementine.” Louis pushed, arms crossed, brows furrowed in concern rather than anger. “You need rest. You can’t be hauling heavy equipment right now.”

Clementine rolled her eyes, releasing the grip she had on her shoulder from where she was massaging it. “I’m fine. I don’t have a concussion.”

Ruby scrunched her nose, slightly offended that her diagnosis wasn’t being taken seriously. She would let it slide, however. She knew Clementine was just a workaholic and looking for an excuse to continue working. Deep down, they both knew Clementine believed it.

All of Ericson knew that too, but deep down wasn’t enough. Clementine needed to outwardly believe it. Otherwise, she was going to get herself hurt.

Clementine stood, waving a hand passively yet again, wanting the Ericson kids to ease off so she could get back to work. She could prove to them that she was okay — capable of working again — and maybe they wouldn't question her anymore. There was no time to rest in their world. You needed to show strength, resilience, reliance.

As she brought herself to her feet, she wobbled, feeling all the strength wash from her body and fall into the floor. She fumbled on her legs, her head light and her feet anchored, until she fell forward.

Louis gasped, leaping forward, capturing the teen in both of his arms before she could crash to the ground. Gingerly, he eased her to the ground. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay.” All Clementine could manage was a groan.

“I knew it.” Ruby scoffed in the background, but to Clementine, it came out as muffled and screwed. Distorted and quiet. “I knew she was doing too much.”

“Get her inside.” Marlon said, equally muffled. Despite it, his irritation was clear as day. “Get her lying down. Violet, get her some water. Omar, food.”

Groggy and disoriented, Clementine could still feel Louis lifting her from the ground. She blinked, glancing around, trying to get her bearings about her. She groaned, and as she tried to adjust herself, Louis held her tighter. “You’re fine, Clem.” He hushed. “Take it easy. This will pass.”

She sighed, weakly flopping deeper into his arms.

She could feel his gaze on her face, soft and warm. “I got you.” He hushed.

She couldn’t put up a fight thanks to a number of factors. Not wanting to upset the Ericson kids even more was one of them, but she genuinely didn’t have the energy. She couldn’t bring herself to argue anymore. Any energy she had was robbed of her body.

By the time she felt as though she had energy to do anything — namely, register where she was — she was back in her room. Louis was at her side, brushing the hair out of her face and wrapping a blanket around her. Behind him was Violet, clutching water bottles, and Omar holding a bowl and spoon.

Clementine went to sit up, groaning and shifting, but Louis planted his hands on her shoulders. He was firm but gentle, and eased her down, hushing her the whole way. “Shh, just take it easy, Clem.”

“Why?”

“You keep hurting your head, Clem.” Ruby offered from the corner of her room. She was by the foot of her bed, close to the door, hugging her arms and frowning. “You need to lay down and take it easy.”

Louis nodded, offering a weak smile, slowly easing away and giving Violet and Omar the opportunity to come closer. “Only get up when you can,” Omar said, “but don’t force yourself.”

“There’s water here for you.” Violet said, setting two water bottles on the desk beside her bed. Clementine watched, eyes squinted, skeptical. “And Omar brought you some soup.”

“I could eat.” Clem said.

Before she had a chance to budge, Violet jumped forward. She leapt to the edge of her bed, kneeling and gracefully setting a hand on the back of Clem’s neck. “Here, I got you.” Then, leaning herself into Violet’s palm, Clementine was gently guided to a sitting position. The entire time, Clementine watched, mystified by how gentle everyone was being toward her.

Then, she was able to get a proper sweep of the room. Everyone was there, concerned and close, wanting to offer something to her. It felt different — something she hadn’t felt in a long time — but she couldn’t place her finger on what the feeling she had was.

She could feel it even more so when Omar drew closer, replacing Violet in the spot beside Clem’s bed and sliding a warm bowl between her palms. “Let me know what you think, okay?”

Clementine, faintly studying him, offered a weak smile. What was this feeling? It settled into her cheeks, warm and soft, and fizzled through every weak, tired part of her.

“Okay,” Marlon said, sighing and rubbing at his eyes. Clementine could tell, even thanks to the fleeting glance she got of his face, that he was worried. “Aasim, watch the door. Everyone else, business as usual. We’ll get people to come in and check regularly.” Marlon assigned, hands waving as he shooed everyone — except AJ — out of the room.

Clementine, the entire time, remained in bed. One of her brows raised, listening to them chatter, but gradually felt her eyes close as she relished in the warmth of the soup bowl in her lap. She felt safe, and comfortable, and at peace for the first time in ages.

That was it. That was the feeling she’d been fighting to find the words for; comfort. She felt safe and pampered. The last time she felt this secure was with Lee.

The thought made her eyes open, staring at the empty top bunk of her bed. It was true. That’s what the feeling was; it was comfort and care, the nostalgic feeling from their old world of feeling like things were actually going to work out. The security of knowing you would always be cared for. She’d missed that.

Hearing Aasim shift outside her door, making fleeting comments with Louis about how Louis would be back in half an hour, she realized how much she’d really missed it.

It made her feel valued, like she was needed there. She was needed for more than what she could offer, but also valued for her presence. They valued safety and well-being more than what she could offer them in terms of survival. That was a bonus.

She smiled, taking a heaFping spoonful of her soup and humming. She turned to her side, watching AJ crawl into bed, playing absentmindedly with disco broccoli. Maybe she didn’t need to be strong all the time. Maybe it was okay for her to be pampered and taken care of.

Maybe it was okay.

No, it was okay. She was okay. Her friends — her new family — were going to make sure she was okay.

And that was enough. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

[kyliehorsegirl]

She’s a Little Bit Country (Duncan Shepherd x Reader

A/N: This is my first Duncan story. I have only written for Michael, but I love Cody’s characters. Duncan and Michael have such good dynamics (as a writer). I’m sorry that this is so long. I wanted it to be a one shot and not a series. This was a thought that came to me, i was also inspired by a scene in s6 where Claire flashes back to a farm or ranch. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 6782

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Y/n Underwood, daughter to the president, Claire Underwood. She was beautiful, strong, but silent. She wasn’t fond of politics. She wasn’t Frank’s daughter, her mother and Frank were taking a break early on in their marriage, she had become pregnant with Y/n. Frank wasn’t happy about it, but he had gotten into a relationship during the break as well. When Frank and Claire got back together, she sent Y/n away to live with her father and grandfather. They owned a ranch a few hours from where Frank and Claire lived.

 She grew to love that ranch, all the animals, the country life. Her father taught her a lot of life skills. He wasn’t prepared to be a father, but Claire had shipped him a daughter as if he owned a boarding school. Her grandfather taught her all about ranch life, how to ride, how to use a tractor, house work, farming, he taught her all of it. Her father taught her cars, how to change oil, how to fix headlights etc. He taught her how to fix appliances and electrical. She learned life skills with her father.

 Like any young teen with not a lot of involvement from another parent, she went through a rebel phase. Dark makeup, dark hair, dark clothes. Her father and grandfather didn’t know how to handle a teenage girl. Her father was always stressing, not knowing what to do. Her grandfather would say;

 “Stop being a sniveling whine baby on the high seas, and tend to the ranch.” He always had silly mannerisms like that. It was always what Y/n needed to hear. Whenever she was feeling down, she would saddle up one of the horses and go for a ride. She would come back and apologize for being a brat. Both her grandfather and father knew, it was hard for a young girl to not have her mother.

 Things changed when her grandfather fell ill. No matter how strong he was, he couldn’t beat cancer.

 “Fuck the chemo.” He would say, and continue to work the ranch until he couldn’t get out of bed. He refused medical help.

 “Grandpa please, let us get you help.” Y/n sat on his bed holding one of his hands.

 “O peanut, you know I don’t want that. I am happy as long as I’m on our ranch with you and your father.” His gruff voice was clear in the air. His stubbornness never ceased to amaze her. She could only wish she had the strength of her grandfather. Tears would start to fall from her face, but not before her grandfather had something to say about it.

 “Don’t cry for me kiddo, you’re wasting your tears.” She would sniffle and hold the tears back.

After he died, things were different. Her father had to hire extra help. He found good workers who were willing to move into the ranch. There were small one room apartments throughout. Her father hired a few family friends willing to help manage the ranch.

 She got her shit together and graduated high school with a 4.0. Her father would try to contact Claire in Y/n’s milestones, she never showed.

 “Claire please? Y/n is graduating. She had a 4.0 You should be here.” He whispered in the phone the day before graduation.

 “I’m sorry Darren, I’m busy.” Claire would say into the phone, no matter what the milestone.

 “You’re always too busy Claire.” He would say harshly into the phone before there was a long pause. Seconds later the line would go dead.

 Darren always encouraged Y/n to pursue college, get a career. She went to college for business management and journalism. During her senior year of college Claire decided to take interest in her, for the first time in a long time.

 “Please Darren, let me talk to her.” Claire said over the phone.

 “I don’t think she wants to talk to you Claire.” He was irritated, hurt.

 “Please.” She sounded helpless, for the first time in a long time.

 “I don’t want to dad.” Y/n folded her arms leaning up against a wall. Darren put her on mute.

 “Y/n, just talk to her, she’s your mother.” He said halfheartedly. Y/n rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the wall making way to her dad.

 “What do you want?” There was a long pause.

 “Y/n? Its good to hear your voice.” Claire took a sigh of relief.

 “I’ll repeat what I said, what do you want?” Y/n said more harshly.

 “I, I’m sorry for not seeing you or being in your life, I want to make a change.” Y/n didn’t say anything. “I know that you have been studying business management and journalism. I want to offer you a job.”

 “Which is?” Y/n didn’t want to give her the time of day, however, curiosity got the better of her.

 “I have been in politics for some time now and I am running for president.” Y/n let out a laugh.

 “Really now? You’re crazier than I thought you were.” Claire sighed through the phone.

 “I know, the job I am offering you is in your line of degree, both social media and journaling. I would want you to be the one to be there for me. I can offer you good pay, a car, an apartment, everything you need.”

 “What makes you think I want that from you?” She said harshly once again.

 “Please Y/n? Give me a chance? I will pay off your student loans, pay for the rest of your schooling. I want to be a part of your life.” Y/n looked to her father and put the phone on mute.

 “I think you should go for it. The ranch will always be here waiting for you, I will be here waiting for you.” Until he wasn’t.

 Y/n accepted the job with Claire, she finished her schooling and drove to see her mom. Shortly after, her father became very I’ll. Y/n left to see him before he took his last breathes. Darren left the ranch to Y/n. Their family friends agreed to manage it while she was away with her mom.

 Claire had announced Y/n as her daughter to the press. Press became very interested in her back story, but failed to find anything when Claire forced Y/n to legally change her last name to Underwood. It felt like a stab in the back to her father, but she agreed to keep her personal life safe.

Over time, she learned how things worked in the world of politics, getting to know the shepherds, she learned how to carry herself, how to talk and how to dress. She was forced to rid her country clothes for pencil skirts and pantsuits. Media was drawn to her, this elusive woman who showed up out of nowhere.

 “How many people do you have there Duncan?” Annette asked over the phone.

 “Not many.” Duncan Shepherd spoke to his mom. He looked out among the party the managed to stay alive without him. Y/n made her way out of the bathroom seeing Duncan on the phone.

 “I need to go mom.” He hung up the phone and made his way to Y/n. He stopped in front of her causing her to jolt.

 “Hello Duncan.” She spoke chaste. Her mom had been working her to the bone, when Duncan wanted to throw a party Annette suggested inviting Y/n. Outwardly he acted as if he was put out inviting her, but inwardly, he wanted to. Ever since Claire brought Y/n into the picture, Duncan was fascinated by her. She came up out of nowhere. She was beautiful and mysterious. There was something about her that she wasn’t telling others, he was attracted to that.

 He would never admit he was attracted to her, but he was.

 “I’m glad you could make it. Would you like a drink?” He offered cocking his head to the side. Her lips tight as she took a breath.

 “Um, sure. I’m here because my mother actually believed I needed a break.” A pause. “Almost insulting.” She mumbled.

 “Well, we all need a break. What would you like?” He made his way to the kitchen gesturing her with him.

 “Whiskey, on the rocks.” Her mom warned her about the Shepherds, as much good as they have done for the Underwoods, never trust a Shepherd she would say. She watched him pour her drink, he wouldn’t do anything right? Her mom said she could go out, but to watch herself. Don’t get drunk and don’t party. There was secret service throughout the inside and outside of the home.

He passed the drink to her, she hesitantly accepted.

 “Everyone deserves a break.” He took a sip of his own cocktail.

 “I suppose. I can’t be here long, I do have work to do.” She swirls her drink around.

 “Always busy. I bet it’s exhausting in your head.” He smirked, taking another sip.

 “Jesus Duncan.” She scrunched her face taking a gulp of her drink.

 “Relax Y/n, it’s a joke, you know what that is right?” He laughed at her defensiveness. She shook her head and finished her drink short of slamming on the counter.

 “I’m not going to sit here and be insulted by you Shepherd.” She turns to leave in a huff, the secret service at the door waiting for her.

 “Y/n wait, lighten up. You’re too stressed.” She stopped walking, irritated, fists clenched at her side. “Please stay.” He pleaded, she took a deep breath and looked at him over her shoulder.

 Hours later, everyone else had already left, leaving just Y/n and Duncan. She was helping him clean up, much to his shock.

 “This was my party, you don’t need to clean up.” He insisted, both of them with trash bags in their hands.

 “No one needs to be left with a mess, not even you.” She let a small smirk slip her lips, not to go unnoticed by him.

 “Wow I’m touched.” He put a hand over his heart laughing, causing her to smile in response. Of course, she found him attractive, she wasn’t an idiot. She wouldn’t be an idiot an encourage his ego though.

 Once they had cleaned up, they were seated on the couch with another cocktail.

 “How do you feel about all this?” Duncan asked out of the blue.

 “How do I feel about this? About what?” She asked, wanting to set her cocktail down.

 “Your mom, being president.” He threw an arm over the couch and tilted his head like a puppy. She looked at him, searching for some type of, fakeness? He waited, waited for her answer, patiently.

 “I’m, happy for her.” She tried to make that sound like a smooth sentence and failed.

 “Is that what she wants you to say?” He crossed his legs and raised a brow at her. Her mouth opened and closed slightly like a fish out of water. She huffed and got up to place the glass in the kitchen.

 “I think it’s time that I leave.” She had rushed out. He gets up and follows her to the kitchen. She felt his presence slightly behind her.

 “You can have your own opinion you know.” He whispered, way to close for her liking.

 “Thank you for the drinks Duncan, I need to go, it’s getting late.” She briskly walked to the front door, where the secret service had been waiting patiently for her.

 “I’m so sorry for the wait guys.” She placed a hand on their arms. Duncan strutted in the middle of the entry way.

 “See you later Y/n.” He called out to her, she assumed threateningly. She refused to respond, with that, she left.

 Y/n laid in her bed, in her room at the white house. Many nights she would lay, numb, wanting to go back to the time at the ranch, with her father and grandfather, but they were gone.

 Y/n had her own office at the white house, she typed away at her laptop, writing statements for her mom. She liked to work alone, she didn’t like press or people. She begged for her mom to let her work alone.

 “Y/n, your mother has requested you.” She looked up from her laptop, her glasses showing the reflection of the light. She sighed, removing her glasses and saving the document she was working on. She followed the SS to her mom.

 “You needed me?” She questioned as her mom came into view.

 “Yes, we are going to meet with the Shepherds to go over the bill.” Claire straightened her outfit, meeting her daughter.

 Once at the Shepherds, she tried so hard to pay attention, but she still ended up tuning out the conversation. That is until Duncan showed up, her attention went to him as he walked into the room.

 “Duncan, so nice of you to join us.” Annette stated, giving him a look. He gave her an apologetic glance as he took a seat close to Y/n. She looked at him in the corner of her eye, catching the smile he gave her.

 After the meeting Annette and Claire were talking as Bill disappeared somewhere. Duncan made his way to Y/n.

 “Sorry about the other night. I wasn’t trying to offend you.” She squinted at him, not trusting his apology.

 “Well, not like I’m not used to that.” She shrugged it off.

 “Let me take you to coffee, as an apology.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

 “Coffee? As an apology?” She questioned him.

 “Yeah, I am sorry even if you don’t want to believe me.” His face seemed genuine, but she was still unsure. She looked at him for a moment before smirking at him.

 “Fine, but I pick the place.” His eyes lite up with her acceptance to his offer.

 “Are you fucking kidding me.” He deadpanned. She laughed, like actually laughed. She hadn’t done that in a while.

 “O come on, you gotta admit its funny.” She snickered as they walked in to the coffee shop. He gave one last look to the ‘Dunkin Donuts’ sign before he followed her in. They ordered their coffee and donuts of course, before finding a table in the back corner.

 “You’re an ass Y/n.” He rolled his eyes at her.

 “Have you even been here before?” She smiled at him taking a bite of her powdered donut.

 “No, I don’t go to places like this.” His eyes dart to her lips, seeing some powder next to them.

 “I’m calling you donut know, I hope you know that.” He sighs and shakes his head. Looking at her again he sees the powder still on her face.

 “You got a little.” He tries to gesture at her face.

 “What?” She asks.

 “Here.” He takes his thumb to the corner of her mouth, gently wiping away the powder. She stays silent, looking at him curiously.

 “Thanks.” She says quietly. He offers her a smile in return. After that, he asked her to coffee once a week, always going to Dunkin Donuts. Whenever she called him Donut, he acted like he hated it. He would never admit he loved the pet name she gave him.

 With every coffee date they grew closer and closer. They tried to keep it from their parents not wanting them to know. However, Claire knew. She never mentioned it to Y/n, although she felt a bit betrayed.

 They had graduated from Dunkin and started going on real dates. Duncan took her to dinner several times, making very small gestures any time he could. One of their dinner dates, he placed his hands over hers. Her heart jumped to her throat. She felt like a school girl again.

 Duncan had taken her to the park one evening walking side by side. Their hands would brush occasionally, he subtly touched her fingers before they intertwined their hands. The gesture caused Y/n to blush. A man-made lake was beside them, a reflection of the moon rippling through the water. Duncan stopped and pulled her near him. He faced her and grabbed the other hand.

 “Y/n, I just want to say, I really like you. I don’t want our parents to be a factor in any decisions, we have the right to make our own choices. I want you in my life, not in a political way, fuck politics. Will you be my girlfriends?” He asked her carefully, clearly nervous. She thought for a moment, increasing his anxiety. She smiled up at him.

 “I like you too Duncan, I would love to be your girlfriend.” He smiled widely, his hands let go of her as he gently brings his hand to cup her face, they look at each other, leaning in slowly. He kisses her, she deepens the kiss, placing a hand on his chest. He ended the kiss and held her close to him.

 They had agreed to keep their relationship quiet, due to their moms’ frenemy circumstance. Claire knew about the relationship too though. Claire never said anything to Y/n. She kept it to herself, until she needed to say something.

 Y/n would spend several days at Duncan’s house, given that he couldn’t exactly come to the white house. He offered for her to have things at his house that would make her comfortable. He made room in a bathroom cabinet for her toiletries, he gave her a dresser for some clothes and gave her room on a book shelf for some of her quick reads.

 At this point that had been dating for several months. Claire refused to bring it up, but Annette began questioning Duncan. He was spending more time ‘alone’ and less time on the campaign.

 “Duncan, what’s going on with you? Your focus isn’t where it used to be.” She said over the phone. He looks down to see Y/n asleep in his lap. The movie they were watching had ended before his mother called.

 “I’m doing fine mom, I needed some time to myself. I’ll get back in the swing of things.” He spoke softly, hoping to not wake a sleeping Y/n.

 “Figure it out Duncan, it better be soon.” She hung up after that. Y/n began to stir awake.

 “I should probably get going. I haven’t been home in two days.” She sat up from his lap, rubbing the tired from her eyes.

 “I know, it’s the weekend though.” He held her tight, not wanting to let her go. She just laughed and gently pushed him away.

 “I need to go love, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed him on the lips and got ready to leave.

 “I love you.” He called out quietly, almost hoping she didn’t hear him. She stopped and turned around, looking at him with wide eyes. He clenched his jaw in nervousness, until he saw her smile. She walked up to him and looked up into his eyes.

 “I love you too Donut.” Duncan rolled his eyes and leaned down to kiss her. He gripped her hips, wanting to go further.

 “I need to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She moved away from him and left his house.

 “You wanted to see me?” Y/n walked into her mother’s room. Claire looked up from the book she was reading, setting it down and taking her glasses off.

 “Yes, I want to ask you something.” She waited patiently as Y/n made her way across the room, sitting on her mother’s bed.

 “What is it?” Tilting her head at her mom.

 “Are you with Duncan?” Claire looked into her eyes, expecting her to lie.

 “Why?” Y/n’s heart began to race.

 “Just answer the question.” She wanted to hear her say it, she already knew.

 “Yes, I am, does that matter?” Y/n spoke carefully.

 “I told you not to trust a Shepherd Y/n.” Her mother was disappointed in her.

 “Duncan is-“

 “Don’t say he is different, he is just like his mother, a snake.” Claire interrupted her. Y/n began to get angry.

 “He is, just because you and Annette have issues doesn’t mean you need to take it out on us.” Claire shook her head at her.

 “You better watch your back Y/n, he can turn on you at any time.” She warned. Y/n kept her mouth shut, not knowing what to say. She left without bidding her mother a goodnight.

 She laid in bed, thinking for a long time, she didn’t know what to do. She truly loved Duncan, but now her mom knew. Would she make it a problem for her?

 The next day, an agenda was presented on Y/n’s desk. She skimmed through it, seeing all the work she had to do, along with a short deadline. She wanted to fight her mom, she did this on purpose. Her mother was the president, she needed these documents done, even if it was done on purpose.

 Y/n typed away at her computer for hours before her phone buzzed.

‘Hey love, everything ok? I haven’t heard from you.’ Duncan.

 ‘Yeah I’m ok, my mom gave me a bunch of work to do with a short deadline. She knows about us.’

 ‘How did she find out?’ he texted after a small pause.

 ‘She already knew, but questioned me last night. She’s trying to keep me busy.’

 ‘Of course, she is. Come over later. I’ll make you dinner.’

 ‘I don’t know if I will be done in time. Don’t you have to work on the campaign?’

 ‘I’ve already been working on it. I’ll wait for you. Just let me know when you’re free ok?’ She smiled at his thoughtfulness.

 ‘I love you Donut.’

 ‘Love you too. I’ll see you tonight.’ She put her phone away and continued typing for another several hours.

 Y/n packed some things she needed and got ready to leave.

 “Where are you going?” Her mother stopped her.

 “You want me to be honest? Fine. I’m going to see Duncan.” She walked past her mom, before she called out again.

 “What about the work Y/n? There is a deadline.” Without looking back, she responded.

 “I finished it.” With that she walked out the door, leaving Claire speechless.

She walked into Duncan’s seeing him in the kitchen. He was wearing a nice black t-shirt. She knew the shirt, it was so soft, not like a normal shirt that was thick and rough. He looked over to her and smiles. Y/n walks behind Duncan wrapping her arms around him, laying her head on his back.

 “What ever you’re making smells amazing.” She nuzzled further into his back. He laughs and brings a hand to hers.

 “I am making lamp chomps with a cranberry glaze.” He turns around wrapping his arms around her now.

 “Holy shit, that sounds fantastic.” He cocks an eyebrow at her, hardly hearing her swear. “A bit fancy don’t you think?” She laughed looking up at him. He shrugged in response. Y/n helped set the table as he continued to prepare the food.

 “I’m sorry you’ve had a rough day love; your mom shouldn’t treat you that way.” He reached a hand over the table grabbing hers. He rubbed a thumb over her knuckles reassuringly.

 “Its ok Donut, she can’t hold me back. I finished everything before I came here.” Y/n stated matter of fact. Leaning back in her seat, taking a swig of her drink.

 “All of it? Like the week’s work?” He questioned shockingly, she hummed in response. He was impressed.

 After dinner the two of them made their way to the couch, drinks in hand. They were in the middle of a movie when Duncan placed a hand on her bare thigh. He grazed his thumb over her soft skin. She glanced down carefully. The hand slowly starts to run up and down her thigh. She intentionally ignores him, continuing to watch the movie. He leans in close and begins kissing her shoulder, her neck and her jawline, alternating between them. He caught her attention.

 Her eyes close as she moans softly. The mental note ‘fuck it’ rolls through her mind as she straddles his lab. His eyes go wide before they go dark and lustful. She places hands on his shoulders as she crashes her lips into his. Duncan grabs her hips firmly, pulling them to him. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss. He swipes his tongue over her bottom lip, asking for entrance. Once she grants it, their tongues dance together fighting for dominance.

 She grinded her hips into his, causing him to groan. He broke the kiss after some time.

 “Do you want to stop?” Both of them breathing hard. She looked at him for a moment trying to catch her breath.

 “No.” She shook her head and smashed her lips back onto his. Throwing an arm around his neck and bring a hand to the back of his neck. He pulls her thighs closer to him as he lifts them off the couch. She gasps, but doesn’t stop kissing and touching him, tangling her fingers in her hair. He supports under her thighs as she wraps her legs around his waist.

 He brings them to the bedroom and gently tosses her on the bed. He strips off his shirt as he crawls on top of her. She shimmies out of her top, bringing him to her. Hands on either side of his face, pulling him into a kiss. His muscles ripple as he moves to mark her neck. He sucks and bites low enough on her neck, it wouldn’t be visible with the right clothing. She moans in response.

 Duncan kisses down her stomach before he reaches the hem of her shorts, he unbuttons them, yanking them off and throwing them somewhere in the room. He sits back to unbutton his own pants as she removes her bra. Once his boxers are gone, he crawls back to her, removing her panties with a single swipe.

 He takes a nipple in his mouth as he stimulates the other rolling her bud between his fingers. She moans, digging her nails into his back. He makes his way down her body, head nestled in between her thighs. He gives a kiss to her entrance, causing her to shutter. His hands roam her body, feeling every inch of her. His tongue darts out to separate her folds. He licks her thoroughly, her juices beginning to spill out of her.

 He pushes two fingers into her, making her arch her back. She throws her head into the pillows, eyes closing in pleasure. He removes his fingers from her as he lines himself up at your entrance.

 “Are you ready?” He asks with a husky deep voice. She nods and nods vigorously.

 “Yes.” She breaths out. He plunges himself into her. He groans loudly, enjoying the feeling of being inside her for the first time. He places a kiss down onto her neck before finding his rhythm and thrusting into her. She meets his thrusts by lifting her hips in sync.

 “Fuck, Y/n.” His deep voice hazed with need. He thrusts harder, faster.

 “Duncan, faster.” He fucks her harder. “Oh my god.” Her eyes close again, she grips him harder, causing marks.

 “I’m gonnna cum.” She holds him close and lets him cum inside her. She too has her own release, they let out a sting of moans, once they both found their release.

 He rolls off of, laying beside her. He pulls her close to him and the two of them are silent in content. Their first time with each other.

 “I love you Y/n.” He kisses her forehead and pulls her close.

 “I love you too.” The two fell fast asleep. Y/n felt her stress melt away after today.

 Claire was pushing Y/n and working her to the bone. She found more and more documents for her to write up. Y/n beat every deadline and obstacle her mom threw at her. Duncan could tell it was wearing on her. The more she worked the more he could see how tired she was getting. She had bags under her eyes, she wasn’t eating properly. When meetings occurred, Y/n could barely keep herself awake, or she zoned out.

 She would go to Duncan’s, where he forced her to eat. She tried to refuse before he said she was being silly and she would eat or else. She was always tried. However, she made time for Duncan as much as she could. By this time, Annette found out about them, she was mad at first at Duncan, then grew concerned for Y/n. Claire was working her to death.

 “Ease up on her Claire, they’re kids.” Annette tried to get Claire to ease up, but to no avail. Claire grew irritated, irritated and jealous. She had no right to be jealous of her daughter’s attention. Maybe if she would have invested in her daughter during her younger years, she wouldn’t feel this way.

 Finally, Y/n had her breaking point. It came when she was sitting at her office once again, typing away for her mother. Claire came in personally to deliver another assignment. When she placed in on her desk Y/n instantly stopped typing. She looked at the folder with disgust. She slowly blinked up at her mother.

 “What the fuck is that.” She spoke carefully and hatefully. Claire’s mouth gaped open like a fish out of water, in utter shock by her daughter’s bluntness.

 “I, it’s another assignment due at the end of the week.” Claire spoke carefully, unsure of her daughter’s reaction. Y/n’s breath grew heavy as the anger built deep within her, waiting to explode. This was her breaking point. She stood abruptly and slide everything off the desk with a sweep of her arms. Her laptop crashed to the ground and papers went flying.

 “Fuck you.” She spat at her mother. “I’m taking a break.” She shoved past her mom and sent a quick text to Duncan. She sent him the address of a parking garage.

 ‘meet me here in 20 minutes. Pack a bag and where something casual. We are taking a break from politics.’ She shoved her phone in her pocket as changed and quickly packed a bag. With that, she sped away to the garage.

 ‘see you there.’ He knew not to question her.

 She waited by a vehicle that was covered in canvas. She leaned up against a cement beam, smoking a cigarette. She saw him pull up. She pushed herself away from the beam and snuffed out the cigarette.

 “Hey, I came as soon as I could, are you ok?” He rushed to her pulling her in a tight hug.

 “I’m fucking done, Duncan. I want to take a break and I want you to come with me.” She looked up to him pleading, half expecting him to say no.

 “Of course, my love. I know you need a break.” He held her face and looked at her for a moment before nodding. She moved to the vehicle and tore off the canvas, revealing an old pick up truck, Ford 1988. Duncan looked at it like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. They hopped in the truck and she turned over the key. She smiled in memory, feeling the rumble of the truck and the rev of the engine. He looked at her, full of awe.

 The drove for a long while before Duncan finally asked where they were going. He wanted to give her time and space before saying anything.

 “Love, where are we going?” He looked at her after taking a long stare on the open road in front of him.

 “There is a part of my life that you don’t know about.” She spoke soft, her tension has all but melted away. He waited for her to continue.

 “My mother didn’t raise me, she didn’t keep me hidden away the way she tells the media. Frank and my mother took a break early on in their career. During that time, she created a relationship with my father, he was a farmer far beyond the city limits. She became pregnant with me, she wanted power in politics, not a child. She stayed with my father until I could be left alone, I wasn’t even a year old when she left.

 “My father was left to take care of an infant alone, he did have my grandfather though. They had to run the family ranch while caring for me. She never checked up on me. Any milestone in my life he would call her, but she would never come see me.

 “When I went into college, I was studying business management and journalism. My grandfather had passed making it hard on my father and I. In my senior year of college, my mother called me. She wanted to enlist me into helping her. I left after I got my degree. When I accepted the job, shortly after my father grew ill, he passed not long after. I went to see him, I was there for his last breath.

 “My mom kept me so busy I haven’t been able to visit the ranch until now. My father’s name was Darren.”

 The whole time his eyes were on her. He sees her hands grip the steering wheel. She was fighting tears, but she remembered what her grandfather said to her.

  ‘Don’t cry for me kiddo’ she held it in. Duncan placed a reassuring hand on her thigh. Y/n offered him a smile.

 “Enough of this sad shit. We have another hour drive. How about some music?” He smiled and nodded at her. She found some old cassettes and put one in.

 “80’s rock?” He laughed as the song blared through the truck.

“My dad taught me a lot, like having a good taste in music.” She smiled at him, he held her free hand. He became more and more amazed with her by the second. An hour later they pulled into the ranch. It was a lot bigger than he thought and he wasn’t exactly dressed for it.

 “I don’t really have the right clothes.” He looked at her, she was in ripped jeans, some vans, t-shirt and a leather jacket.

 “I said dress casual not Gucci.” She shook her head at him.

 “This is casual.” He tried to deflect.

 “I guess I should have said Walmart.” He rolled his eyes at her and laughed. She parked the truck outside a run-down ranch home. As they got out of the truck a man came trotting up to her, she jogged meeting him the rest of the way.

 “Dottie!” She threw her arms around his neck and he spun her around. Duncan couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealously even though Dottie was a lot older than them.

 “Dottie, this is Duncan my boyfriend, Duncan, this is Dottie an old family friend. He runs the ranch.” The men shook hands and nodded to each other.

 “Missed you kiddo. You look great.” He ruffled her hair and she pushed him, laughing.

 “I’ll let you two get settled and then I’ll have supper ready.” He gave her a kiss on the head. Duncan looked around the house. This was so much different than the type of houses he was used to. This felt like a home, it smelled like a home. There were scratches on the hardwood, paint missing in small areas, dents in the walls. It was a breath of fresh air for him. He never realized this was the kind of home he wanted, he needed.

 At supper, Dottie told Duncan stories of when Y/n was younger. Causing Duncan to laugh and Y/n to blush with embarrassment. Duncan had never had a real family meal. He truly loved it and seeing Y/n, made him love it more.

 The next few days flew by like a movie. Y/n taught him how to ride, grooming the horses, tacking them up. She let him borrow some of her dad’s old clothes and boots. They rode for hours at a time, Duncan rode a bay Quarter horse gelding named Bo and Y/n rode a sorrel Quarter horse mare named River.

 Their mornings consisted of going out to the chicken coop and getting fresh eggs for breakfast. They were happy.

 One morning Duncan woke up to an empty bed, he looked out to see Y/n outside the French doors of the bedroom, looking out into the sunrise. A crème cardigan wrapped around her, keeping her warm in the cool morning air. Duncan got up and made his way behind her, engulfing her in his arms, laying his head on her shoulder. She leaned into him with a deep sigh.

 “I miss my dad.” She whispered. Duncan gave her a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

 “I know love.” They looked out into the sunrise together.

 They said their goodbyes to Dottie as they made there way back to the city. The drive back was melancholy.

 Back at the white house, Claire acted like she was excited to see Y/n. She ignored her and went to her room.

 A few days later, Y/n became sick. She had thrown up in the middle of the night. She spoke to no one when she made an errand in the dark of the night. A test. She waited the several minutes.

 Positive.

 She started sobbing. She burnt the test and lay in her bed silent. That morning someone came to retrieve her, she told them she was sick and that she was taking a day off. She was silent the entire day. Her mother came to pay her a visit. She tried asking how she was feeling and if she was ok. She rolled over and ignored her mother. Claire left without another word.

 She contemplated abortion, not even telling Duncan. He didn’t deserve that. He had been so good to her.

 When he hadn’t heard from her in a few days he called.

 “Is everything alright?” She heard though the phone.

 “I need to talk to you; can we go to the park?” She was timid. He felt a sickening feeling grow in the pit of his stomach. Did the time at the ranch mean something different to her than it did to him?

 “Sure.” She couldn’t hear the shakiness in his voice.

 She met him at the park, standing by a tree near the lake. She was nervous, her demeanor was almost off putting. He approached her with caution. She looked to him with tears in her eyes. He wanted to cradle her and tell her everything would be ok, he wanted to take the pain away.

 “I’m pregnant.” She whispered. She looked to his eyes, unable to read him. She looked down and let the tears fall. She was caught off guard when he pulled her into a tight hug. He held her face as she looked to him in confusion. A smile broke out on his face.

 “If you will have me, I would love to be the father.” He began to tear up in happiness. Her face went soft, smiling back at him.

 “Really?” She said in disbelief. She couldn’t imagine anyone else to have kids with.

 “Yes, I love you Y/n. You have showed me a whole new world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” She put a hand to her mouth as he got down on one knee. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and the time at the ranch made me realize, I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”

 He opened a black velvet box to reveal a subtle silver ring, adorned with one small stone. Tears poured from her eyes.

 “Yes! Yes, I will. I love you so much Duncan.” He put the ring on her finger before he picked her up and spun her around. He lifted her in the air and brought her down for a loving kiss.

 Neither of their moms were pleased with them, they both gave them a fuck you and told them to find new employees.

 They had a small wedding with a few of their close friends, including Dottie. Y/n wore a simple silk strapless dress. Duncan wore a head to toe black suit. They drove off in her old pick up truck to the farm. They started a new life there.

 Y/n gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. They named her Darcy in honor of her father Darren. A few years later they had a boy named (boy name you like). They lived the rest of their lives on the ranch, happier than ever. No politics, no drama. Y/n was happy to get back to her roots and Duncan was happy to Start a new life.

*********

Hope you enjoyed the fluffy ending!!!!! I had alot of fun writing this!

Any Duncan stories will be added to my Langdon MASTERLIST in their own category.

Duncan Taglist

@hearteyesshelby @the-temple-pythoness  @envyskitty @takemetoneverland420 @skullchik89  @0hmylangdon  @santanicoss @scarletraine @quacksonbarnes  @okokbucky  @wildewallflower  @boo-youwhoreee @winterofherdiscontent

[reddieforlove-archive-blog]

Affection 

It started with simple touches. Eddie wasn’t sure where they stood after they got together. It was easy enough to admit how they felt for one another but much harder to figure out how they should approach it, especially in Derry. So they didn’t change much, outwardly. Richie would toss his arm around Eddie’s shoulders as they walked or they would sit close together at the lunch table, knees and elbows brushing as they engaged with the rest of their friends.

Sometimes when they were isolated at the quarry or enveloped in darkness at the Aladdin, their fingers would tangle together or Eddie would lay his head on Richie’s shoulder. The need to be careful went unspoken between them. One day they wouldn’t have to be so scared. They hung onto that, letting dreams of the future carry them through the day when they couldn’t show what they felt around others.

When they weren’t around others, it was a whole different story. They saved their most affectionate moments for just the two of them. It was moments like these that they treasured, losing themselves in one another without care for the rest of the world. Eddie used to fear that he wouldn’t be able to lose himself in another person’s touch. That his mind and his fears would work against him and make him push anyone away who got too close.

He should have known better.

Richie’s touches were addictive. He discovered that soon enough. Even when it first began, when they stumbled their way to admitting their feelings for one late night in the summer between their sophomore and junior year. Cross-legged on Richie’s basement floor, wide eyed and facing one another, Eddie couldn’t get enough. He’d never seen Richie so hesitant. Never seen him so wary to touch another person.

But when he reached his hand out, palm facing the ceiling, Richie stared at it as if he’d never seen anything like it before. Then he reached out too, his fingers brushing over Eddie’s hand and tracing every line he found etched into his palm with a look of awe and disbelief in his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite grasp that they were really here, in this situation with one another.

Eddie did the same, studying Richie’s hands in a way that he never had before, searing every detail into his memory as he ran his fingers over faded scars and bruised knuckles. They laid on that same floor that night, stuffed into too-small sleeping bags and facing one another with tired eyes itching to close but too much exhilaration running through their veins for sleep to come quickly.

They didn’t move quickly from there. Eddie expected Richie to throw himself into their relationship with the same enthusiasm that he had for everything but to his utter surprise, the other boy seemed content to move at a snail’s pace. Not that their interactions changed that much. Richie would throw his arm over Eddie’s shoulders when they walked together, like always, and he would sit as close as usual to him at lunch, their knees and elbows brushing as they ate.

On rare occasions, alone at the quarry or enveloped in darkness at the Aladdin, their fingers would lace together or Eddie would let his head settle on Richie’s shoulder. He knew he was never imagining the pressure of Richie’s lips on the top of his head when he did. But still, they didn’t kiss. Eddie didn’t know what to make of it until they found themselves alone in his bedroom one Saturday afternoon when his mother was out.

Richie sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling books from Eddie’s shelves and rearranging them in a random order that only he knew. Eddie knew he’d have to fix it all later but he didn’t care at the moment, humming along to the music playing quietly from his laptop as he laid on his stomach on the bed, his knees bent and ankles crossed as he lazily flipped through an NYU catalog that Stan gave him.

Lifting his head, Eddie let his eyes linger on Richie for a long few moments, considering him carefully. His dark curls were riotous as usual, springing every which way as he nodded his head to the beat of the song, thumbing through Eddie’s well-used copy of The Outsiders. Closing the catalog slowly, Eddie settled his chin on his hand and worried at his lower lip with his teeth, weighing his words carefully before he spoke them.

“Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Richie grew still, the book slipping from his hand and falling to the ground just before he turned his head. Wariness was written across his face, along with the slightest traces of confusion. As he pushed to his knees, scooting across the carpet towards the bed, Eddie was grateful for the music that broke up the silence between them. Richie stopped at the edge of the bed, crossing his arms on the mattress with a curiously solemn look on his face.

“I… I didn’t think that you wanted to,” he admitted.

“I never said that,” Eddie countered with a frown.

Richie let out a laugh, oddly making Eddie feel both annoyed and affectionate.

“You only spent the majority of our lives telling everyone how gross it all is,” he reminded Eddie, raising one eyebrow as if challenging him to disagree.

“Maybe because you always made it sound so gross,” Eddie said, scoffing lightly.

Richie smirked at him and Eddie knew what was coming before he even said it.

“Cross my heart, babe, I would’ve sewed my lips shut myself if I knew it meant I’d get some Spaghetti love later in life.”

Eddie reached out, shoving at his shoulders with a groan of disgust.

“That’s exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” he complained.

Richie grinned at him, rocking back before pushing to his feet and climbing onto the bed. Eddie expected him to do something else dumb but his breath caught in his throat when Richie nudged him around to his back before dropping onto the bed next to him, propped on his side with one hand on Eddie’s hip as he gazed down at him.

“I told myself it was worth the wait,” Richie said, pushing Eddie’s shirt up just slightly to brush his thumb over his skin.

A shiver rocked through him, followed by a slow warmth that filled his chest.

“You never had to wait,” Eddie said, feeling breathless.

“Neither did you,” Richie said with a teasing lilt to his voice, squeezing his hip lightly.

Eddie let out a soft sigh, shrugging one shoulder.

“Thought you might not want to,” he mumbled.

“Well that’s the most ridiculous fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Richie said with a shake of his head. “It’s just the only thing I think about all the time.”

Eddie gave him an unimpressed look.

“I think we both know you’re not just thinking about kissing,” he said.

“Yeah but there’s innocent ears about,” Richie said, reaching up to tug at Eddie’s ear lightly. “Don’t wanna corrupt him too much.”

“Liar.”

The accusation didn’t faze Richie at all. He simply flashed Eddie a grin before ducking his head. The feeling of jittery anticipation returned just before Richie’s lips brushed over his. It was a brief kiss, barely lasting a second or two before Richie pulled away just a few inches. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open as he wondered when he ever closed them.

“Shit,” Richie breathed out, looking down at him with awe. “You’ve done it now, Eds. I won’t wanna do anything else.”

Eddie let out an affectionate scoff, reaching up to press his hand over Richie’s cheek.

“That was barely a kiss,” he said, meeting Richie’s gaze.

“Well if you insist.”

A laugh barely left Eddie’s mouth before they were kissing again, their lips slotting together perfectly as Richie’s hand fell to his hip again. Eddie curled his fingers into that wild hair, heat flooding him from head to toe as he pressed up into the kiss, already finding himself desperate for more.

It was too easy to lose himself in Richie Tozier. Every day that passed proved it to him more and more. And one day, the future that they dreamed of came around and they didn’t have to hide anymore. Their fear faded to nothingness and they never had to question where they stood with one another again.

[vanilluhbeaux]

early mornings with her

distinque (on ao3 & ff.net)

Summary:

Maybe he should visit more often // Dabi has more homes than he knows.

early mornings with her

x

Every third Wednesday of the month, Dabi pulled himself out of bed at seven-thirty in the morning instead of his usual twelve in the afternoon. And instead of applying a fresh bottle of dye to his normally black hair, he spends thirty minutes longer in the shower and scrubs the already fading black dye out of his head, revealing a distorted, greyish-pink color that, while he isn’t particularly fond of, gives him a soft sense of familiarity. When he leaves the bathroom, Toga’s waiting outside the door, towel and pout in tow. Watching her sharp, yellow eyes glare at him gives him that same sense, and he fights the urge to stick his tongue out at her. He looks at her for a moment, silent and observant, watching her slightly angry expression slowly morph into something more annoyed than mad. “You’re up early,” he decides to say, falling into the familiarity.

“I have school, Dabi,” she answers, and that’s where the sense ends. He’s looking down at her and doesn’t want to block the bathroom any longer to get her worked up, or hide her lotion in the baby’s room because she needs it, or lick her favorite pen and it’s his now, or stick his tongue out at her because he’s only teasing Yumi, calm down. No, he doesn’t want to do any of those things anymore and he lets out a sigh and steps out of the way.

“You don’t go to school anymore, Himiko,” he says before turning to walk away, watching as she entered and stood by the door.

“Go to hell!” she shouts, slamming the door, and bringing that feeling back, though now it was too little and too late for him to relish in it. Still, it bought a small smile to his face and silently he’s thankful. Moments pass before he hears the shower running and that’s when he walks away, drinking in the small, almost pleasant, reminders of home against his better judgment.

But then he finds himself in his room, staring at himself in the mirror, picking at the patches of wrinkled, purple skin that covers his body. He tears himself from the mirror and throws on a pair of jeans and white t-shirt, adding a grey jacket when he realizes his arms are out and his burnt skin isn’t the best thing to have on display today. Then it’s back to the mirror, staring at the deep patches of skin under his eyes and jaw, unsatisfied. He takes a pair of dark sunglasses and puts them on with the utmost care, and then glances back at the mirror, seeing that he’s hidden his eyes and the surrounding area. There’s still the issue of his neck and jaw, but he isn’t as concerned with it. It’s nothing that he isn’t used to, and it’s unsightly but so is he—sometimes.

And with that, Dabi leaves out his room and locks his door, to be gone for what he estimated to be no more than a few hours.

x

Riding crowded busses brings back more small feelings for Dabi, and he doesn’t hesitate to give up his seat for the schoolgirl with bright blue eyes and glasses, employing the manners instilled in him by his mother. The girl smiled at him and started studying, and then he suddenly found himself looking at a younger Yumi, who always had her nose in a book. It took everything he had to control himself enough so that he wouldn’t flip the book out of her hands with a flippant, sarcastic, ‘oops’. Instead, he dug one hand deeper into his pockets and let another hold on the railing above his head, closing his eyes. He leaned his head against the wall, not unlike he did when he was in school.

Exhaling, he realized this this was going to be a longer trip than he thought.

He exited the bus a few stops than his intended destination, finding it easier to walk a few blocks than stand and watch The Girl read without reaching out to touch her. She looked like a smart girl; she kept her nose buried in the book the entire ride. Every so often she looked up at him, and he looked back, though she didn’t notice underneath his glasses. Dabi didn’t want anything from her, but for her to either tell him some lame thing she read from the book or to say some smart, sassy comment, but she didn’t do either, preferring to keep her peace. It was slightly incredible to him, how someone could bring some of your memories alive without bringing all of them back.

It was torture.

He didn’t notice how his eyes were drawn to every white haired woman on the street, watching them for a moment longer than he needed. If he could sneak a peek at their faces, he would find himself slightly disappointed and their green and brown and red and not blue or grey eyes. Unconsciously, he’d wrinkle his nose and pout, like he was a child and he was not getting his way.

He should visit her.

x

Dabi’s nerves gathered themselves together and attacked when he approaches the bright, white building with far too many windows. He almost felt himself sweat when he grabbed the door and pushed it open. The cool rush of air invaded his nose and he would’ve choked, but he is far too composed to do something so uncool. The staff downstairs are dressed completely in white, with plastic smiled placed on their faces. Without hesitation, he walks to the front desk and asks the lady sitting behind it, “Is Rei Todoroki still on the twelfth floor?” His voice comes out even and cool, and he’s thankful because his stomach is twisted into knots that he hasn’t felt since he was a child.

She looks at him with narrow eyes and said, mechanically, “Only select people are allowed to see her.”

He drops his glasses further down his nose to reveal his eyes, staring down the worker. Her bored expression, softens when she sees he’s got the same eyes as him. He lowers his voice to say, “That’s not what I asked.”

The lady nods her head, “Twelfth floor, first room from the elevator. May I have your name?”

He looks back at her and drops his glasses, “No, you may not.” And he walks to the elevator with a large, cocky grin that reminds himself too much of his father, but he doesn’t let it stop him from smiling. The elevator is sterile and fast and that makes him queasy, and he steps out of it just as quickly as he got on.

Her door is white and pristine, and Dabi assumes that Enji is paying to get it painted every two weeks to keep appearances up. He doesn’t miss the snowflake embellishments in the corners and surrounding a gold nameplate reading TODOROKI R. The whole floor is a little warmer than the rest of the hospital, and little decorations are scattered throughout the hall, feeling more like an apartment building than a hospital.

He pushes the door open swiftly, without knocking, and outwardly cringes, remembering his manners. Still, he walks in bravely and finds R. Todoroki sitting on her bed, staring out the window. She looks at him and a smile breaks out on her pale face, wrinkles forming in the corner of her grey eyes. “Hi, Touya,” she says, standing, “I’ve missed you.” Dabi was slightly taken aback at hearing his birth name, but then realized that Touya was the only name she knew him by. Taking off his glasses and putting them on a desk, he wrapped her in a hug, surprised to find how small she was in his arms.

“I missed you too, mom,” he says breathing into her white hair. He pulls away from her and looked her up and down, taking her appearance in. He remembered that she was always slim and pale, but she looked a little thicker and her face seemed more colorful. Still, her hair was the same bright, white and trailed past her shoulders and her eyes shined the same way they did when she looked and Yumi and him when they were kids. Aside from the fine lines appearing around her eyes, she doesn’t look like she’s aged, almost as did she were frozen in time, stuck at thirty forever. “...I really missed you, mom,” he breathes.

“I’m sorry, Touy,” she says, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to her, signaling for him to sit with her. “I jus—“

“It’s not your fault,” Dabi interrupts, placing his hands on her shoulders, “You did the best you could with us. All of us.” He drops his hand and lays his head on her lap, like he did when he was six and Mom and Yumi were the only people who mattered. Rei let her hands entangle themselves in his hair, and she smiled once she found his scalp.

“You’re still coloring your hair?” she probes, remembering when his hair was as red as his father’s. When he was twelve he bleached it to match her and his siblings, and by the time she went away it was still white. She smiles when she feels him nodding and hears him hum in response.

“It’s black now, but my roots come in red. I’ll bleach them and then add the black on top,” he answers, closing his eyes. Gently, she reaches down and touches his face, first the smooth, pale skin of his eyelids and then she trails down to the rough, burnt patches under his eyes. “I hate my red hair,” he adds, nonchalantly.

“You’re still my handsome boy,” she chirps, bringing a kiss down to his forehead. He smiles at this, and although he wants to swat her away from his forehead like he used to, he lets her, knowing it’s been a while since he’s got a mom-kiss and it’ll be a while before he’ll get another. He hopes that it won’t be eight years, like it has been, but he can’t be sure.

Jokingly, he says, “I’m 25, mom.” She abruptly sits up and looks at him in mock disbelief.

“That’s impossible,” she says, directing his chin to look at her, “because I’m your mother and I’m only 32.” He holds her gaze for a moment but then drops it, laughing.

“I must’ve forgot.”

“Are you being good to your sister and brothers?” Dabi pauses for a long moment, looking at his moment, his eyes blank. Everyday, he thinks about Yumi and Natsu, though thoughts of Natsu are few and fleeting and Yumi is always on his mind. He can admit to himself that he misses them, and before he joined Tomura he’d send them packages, but lately he hasn’t done anything remotely nice. And Shouto? Normally, Dabi doesn’t think of him at all, let alone as one of his siblings. Thinking back, Dabi can’t remember them being close, even as children.

“No, mom,” he finally answers, “I don’t think so.”

His mother tsks and tells him, authoratively, “You should be. Fuyumi’s a teacher. Kindergarten, I think. And Natsu’s doing well in college. Shouto’s—“

“I’ve never spoken to Shouto,” he lies, slightly. He’s taunted him as Dabi a few times, but as Touya? Never.

“That makes me sad, Touya,” she chides, placing a hand on his forehead. “He’s a good kid. He’s got a really good head on his shoulders and he’s very kind. Enji did a good job with him.”

“If Endeavor raised him, I want nothing to do with him,” Dabi dismisses flatly.

“That’s an awful thing to say, Touya!” she scolds, using the same voice she did whenever he pranked one of sister. “Don’t let your anger for your father ruin your relationship with Shouto. Anger does awful things to people...it can make us do the worst that we could possibly do. Shouto’s better than Enji, and you should be good to him, too.”

“I miss Yumi,” Dabi says, changing the subject. His mother notices it, but doesn’t say anything about it.

Instead, she lets out a sigh and asks, “You haven’t seen her?”

“I haven’t been very good to anyone, lately, mom.”

This time, she pokes him, causing him to open his eyes and look at her. He finds her looking down at him, a perplexed look floating about her grey eyes before gardening, and he watches as she clenches her jaw. “Is this because of your father, Touya?”

“I-“ Dabi starts, but cuts himself off seeing his mother look at him so harshly. Her face is turned into a small frown and wrinkles appear on her forehead, making her look more her age.

“You can be angry at him,” she starts, her tone strict and heavy, “By God, be angry. Kick and scream and express yourself, but do not let it consume you. I’d hate to see your anger drive your actions.” Dabi looked at her, his blue eyes darkening and closing. Gently, he shakes his head and places a hand to her cheek.

“Mom,” he starts, his voice low, “it’s a little more complicated than that.” She kept her eyes on him, clearly not pleased with his answer. “Things are a little crazy right now, mom, and I can’t say why.”

“If things are crazy, it’s your job to stay sane.”

“No excuses, huh, mom?” he says jokingly, dropping his hand from her face. Looking at her, for a moment, she’s actually only thirty-two and he’s nine, being reprimanded for putting glue in his sister’s hair gel.

“None.”

“You want me to be good to them?”

“I want you to be good to everyone, Touya,” she says with a small laugh on the tip of her tongue, “but you can start with your siblings, I suppose.”

“I’ll be good to anyone you ask,” he says, stretching the truth just a little bit. When work comes around he can’t always be good, but he knows he doesn’t always have to work.

A knock on the door startled them both, sending them jumping out of their skins and scrambling over each other as to not show just how close they were, though they quickly relaxed when they seen a bright pair of glasses and soft white hair. The young woman looked from the door in awe, unable to find the courage to walk in. “Touya?” She gaped, her eyes wandering like a child at Christmas.

“Hey, Yumi,” Dabi said, sitting up and alert at the wide-eyed adult. She was bigger than he remembered, older, with pretty adult features taking over her awkward teenage ones. She was still wearing glasses, even after swearing them off after years of him hiding and breaking them. Her white hair reached her shoulders and definite, bold red streaks littered the tresses. She almost reminded him of his mother, but her face held a serenity that he’s never seen in his mother.

“Did Dad—“ Fuyumi began, but quickly covers her mouth and cuts herself off, shaking her head. Dabi didn’t miss how her grey eyes narrows slightly, and tears began forming on her lower eyelid, threatening to spill over. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long enough,” Rei answers, running her thin fingers through his hair.

The rest of the evening lazed on carelessly, lively periods of excitement and chatter turning into lovely periods of tranquility and peace, and that oh-so-familiar feeling crept into Dabi’s chest, squeezing his heart and preventing air from flowing into his burnt lungs. Though the inevitability of the moon landing in the sky is enough to bring Dabi to his legs and walk out of his mother’s door and away from his sister’s company, though not without kisses and promises that he will return.

Immediately after he closes the door, he hears something break, but before he can open it, he hears his mother’s voice.

“He hurt my son again.”

Dabi decides it’s better if he walks away.

x

When he arrives home, it’s darker than what he expected. The moon was taking on a waxy, yellow hue instead of the clean white that he knew and trusted. He walks in and finds Himiko sitting on the couch, a textbook in her hand and eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Without thinking, he asks, “Don’t you have parents?”

“M’ father’s dead,” she replies smoothly, not taking her eyes off the book.

“Mine too.” He goes over and sits with her on the couch, peering into the textbook only to find it blank. The girl mutters something about hating math, and he could never understand how she does what she does.

“He hit me, so m’ boyfriend killed him.”

“Mine too.”

“You had a boyfriend?”

“I had a father who hit me.” Himiko didn’t say anything after this, burying her nose in the wordless book and focusing all her energy into studying. “I have a little sister, too.”

“I’m your little sister.”

“Close enough.”

[bekaroth-reads]

Albert Vanderboom x reader 2

There you were in this part of the woods around Rusty Lake again. It had been moths now, but no one was giving up on Frank yet. He had disappeared without a trace one morning and ever since then the Vanderbooms and you had been looking everywhere. Today you were walking the woods near the shore of the lake. You all knew the he was smart enough not to be around the water by himself, but at this point you were checking everywhere no matter how unlikely. While looking around the shoreline, you saw a boat arrive at the small dock up the way. It looked to be Mr. Crow, you would often see him as he went back and forth from his job at the hotel across the way, but your weren't sure who was with him. The two men started to walk your direction as you kept looking around the area. "Hey, are you all still looking for that poor kid?" The raspy voiced of Mr. Crow caught your attention as he got closer. You just gave him a somber nod in response. You were in no way trying to be rude, but between the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and tiredness you were hard pressed to think of coherent words at the moment. You looked from him to the man that was standing behind him. "Allow me to introduce myself," the man said in a deep and smooth voice that seemed to be the opposite of Mr. Crow's. "My name is Mr. Owl.” It appeared that the two of them were actually headed in the same direction as you were for a bit, and they asked you questions as you all walked to see if they could do anything to help. Right before you went your separate ways, Mr. Owl asked you something that caught you off guard. “You haven’t, per chance, checked to see if perhaps a member of the family knows something that that they aren’t letting on.” His voice almost had an apologetic tone to it. “Well, no.” You answer almost too quickly to even give the question any thought, causing you to back track a little bit. "I mean, they're all family; they wouldn't want to do anything to purposefully hurt each other, would they?" Was your second and more thought out answer. Mr. Owl just gave a sigh that was laced with wash seemed to be a mixture of sadness and what you can only compare to remorse, yet that still didn't seem quite the right word for the feeling. "Just try to remember this: there are times when even family cannot be trusted. Be vigilant yet cautious in your search. Good evening." He said as he and Mr. Crow started to go their separate way from you. Seeing as it would be nightfall soon, you decided it was time to head back to the Vanderbooms' house and see if anyone there had found anything. Everyone had been doing their best to look for Frank in whatever way could be thought of. Emma, Mary, and Samuel were scouting around the area munch like you were, and Ida, when she was not helping in that effort, would focus on her cards, crystal ball, and any of her other methods to see if anything would come up there that would help show the poor chid's location. This was proving to be frustrating to her, because it was alway showing the house for some odd reason, and everyone knew that he was nowhere on the grounds. This assurance was given by Albert, who had been looking right around the house and its nearby area and had searched everything from top to bottom countless times by now. He also kept checking the well that was in the front yard, even though he was in the yard near to it the entire morning of Frank's disappearance and had promised that he never saw the boy in that time. Upon arriving at the house, you and the others talked of the areas you had all searched over the map the seemed almost permanently sat on the table by this point, and marked the searched locations for what seemed like the millionth time. Everyone was there except for Albert, which was not entirely odd. He was often either in the observatory keeping watch for anything through the telescope, or in his room contemplating everything that was going on. When you went to check the observatory he was not there, so you went over and knocked on his door. When there was no answer you figure the he was not there or just didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment, so you just left things be and went back down stairs. Thinking of seemingly everything, yet nothing at the some time, you absentmindedly leaned onto one of the bookshelves that was in the room you were in. To your surprise, it moved very easily despite how study it looked. All other thoughts, no matter how important, were pushed to the side in lieu of this new discovery. You went to move it back to its original place, but when you saw there were scuff marks on the floor signifying that it was actually moved quite often you decided to continued to move the shelf in the opposite direction. When the shelf was slightly more to the side you saw something that you never expected to see in anything except for stories: a secret staircase. After a good debate on weather you should proceed or not, the first option was taken as you wondered if the Vanderbooms were even aware of this place's existence. You were scarcely to the third step when you were suddenly pulled pack up with startling force right before the bookshelf quickly slid closed once more and you were pinned to it from behind by someone. If the brown jacket sleeve didn't let you know who your captor was, the familiar, masked muffled voice did. "Somebody's been looking where they shouldn't have." Albert almost whispered in your ear, close enough to that you were sure that if he didn't have his mask on you would have felt his breath. "Albert? What's going on? What on earth is down there?" You almost stuttered out due to this mixture of emotions you were feeling due to the recent events and how close Albert was to you at the moment. Albert gave a little hum, before flatly responding, "Nothing that you need to know about. Not yet, at any rate." He then turned you around so that you were facing him, yet still stayed as close as he was before. He did nothing but look into your eyes as you looked at his, unsure of what was even going on right now. Eventually, he ran a hand gently down your jawline, and almost sighed, "It's getting late. I'll walk you home." You had went outside to wait while he told Mary where the two of you were going. As you waited, your eyes caught sight of the well, and something nagging at the back of your mind told you that you needed to go check it for yourself. "It's just to double check for the day." Was the reason the you try to tell yourself that you were checking, but the nagging at the back of your mind knew your actual reason. Mr. Owl's words rang thought your head, and as much as you wanted, almost needed, to believe that Albert would not do anything to hurt a soul, especially that of his nephew's, his odd behavior inside made you feel the need to check the deep, dried out, man made cavern. You walked over to it slowly with your lantern, almost dreading what might be found at the bottom. Vision cresting the stone rim of the well, you were about to use the lantern to try light the inky darkness when it was ripped from your hands. As your eyes went to follow the stolen light source, you were grabbed around the waist from behind, and went to yell, however you were stopped before you could by a hand covering your mouth. You tried to struggle, and managed to knock you and your attacker to the ground. This did not do much for you, seeing as, after a brief moment of shock, the attacker used this as an opportunity to roll the both of you over so that you were pinned by him underneath of the tree in such a way that you were sure that it would block the two of you out of view of those in the house. Your eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, and seeing as his hand still prevented you from making any noises of note, you started to grope madly at the ground in hopes of finding something that you might use to defend yourself. What you found was something that you assumed to be a rock at first, but realized the size and texture were not quite right. It soon hit you what you were holding: Albert's mask. Your eyes finally adjusting to the night's lighting, or rather, lack there of, showed you the one above you. Albert, unmasked and heaving out of exhaust, anger, and something else more primal that you weren't quite able to comprehend fully, used his body weight to pin you down and his hand to cover your mouth with an almost bruising grip. "Shame, shame, Nosey Rosey." He panted out, still trying to gain his breath back. "Always looking where you shouldn't be. That seems like something that should get you punished." He almost purred sadisticly, making you whimper for not knowing and being afraid of what he might mean. Albert gave a chuckle and moved the two of you so that his back was leaned up against the tree and you were sitting in his lap, his arm once again around your waist to keep you from going anywhere. "Who am I kidding? I can't stay upset with you." He chuckled once more as he started to move his hand from your mouth, but stopped and warned, "Make a sound, and there WILL be consequences." before moving it the rest of the way. "Albert I-" you started to whisper, but he shushed you with his finger. "Now, now, your not out of the woods just yet. Just because I'm spoiling you by not giving you the punishment you deserve doesn't mean that I won't be keeping a close eye on you. A very, very close eye..." He mused darkly. "Albert, please ju-" you started to talk to him before he gave a slightly perturbed growl. "How can I get you to hush?" He almost didn't finish his thought before a though came to his mind and manifested itself outwardly with a sly grin. Suddenly his lips were on yours as his hand around your waist was trying to pull you impossibly closer. Albert leaned over to your ear and whispered darkly, "You and me are inseparable now, whether you like it or not." before giving you another kiss, one which you returned this time. Even though you knew you loved this man, you couldn't shake the feeling that you practically just made a deal with the Devil himself.

[no-mo-rules]

Can I request headcanons of Akira's s.o. at first being untrusting of him because of his records but later on warms up to him? Thank you! I really love your writing

*Thank you

Day 1:

We had a new kid today.

He sat in the chair to the left of mine. There was nothing outwardly scary about him at first, really: black hair, tall, wide-rimmed glasses, kind of on the lanky side; introduced himself to the classby saying ‘nice to meet you’ in a cute and demure way. Everything you’dexpect from a normal transfer student.

Suppose I shouldn’t have judged a book by its cover though,because there had been rumours floating about him left and right.

Even before I first saw his face today, people had told me that he was in the middle of probation after a short sentence in prison, and thathe was infamous in his old school for being kind of a troublemaker. I knew for afact he had a criminal record, because Mr Kamoshida told everyone in his P.E classto watch out for him, (‘girls especially,’ he said, looking at a few of us inturn, ‘should do everything to avoid being alone with him,’) so I was kind of inclinedto believe the rest. 

Missed the first two lessons on the first day, too. Kawakamitold us he was ill, but I thought that was bullshit.

Day 3:

He still hadn’t received any of his own books by today. 

Kawakami had been telling me tolet him use mine so far, but honestly I was starting to get kind of annoyed with it. Notnecessarily because I thought he’d try anything in class, but because I kept thinking that the less contact I had with him, the better. Don’t really want to be involved with people like him; it’s best to stay out of their business. 

Day 4:

Today, he caught me staring at him. To be frank, I just didn’t feel safe when he was out of my line of sight, so I’d actually been staring at him a whole lot. It was probably inevitable that he would catch me eventually.

Immediately, I looked down and didn’t look at him for the rest of the lesson. Honestly sprinted out of that class when it was done and didn’t lookback, cause I was convinced he wasgonna confront me about it. You can probably imagine I nearly shat myselfwhen he ran out after me and tapped me on the shoulder. Totally thought thatwas the end; like amen, you did good in this life, thanks for coming everyone.But he just looked at me in a kind of awkward way with his hand in his pocketand gave me my book back after telling me I left it behind.

My heart was still hammering in my throat, so I apologisedand just grabbed it off him before running off again. Kind of felt like anidiot though. He was just being nice.

Day 7:

Positive I heard cat noises coming from beneath his desktoday. I looked at the guy that sat behind him to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, but he just shrugged.

Day 10:

I knew it! He totally had a cat in his desk! 

I saw it jump into his bag as he was leaving the lesson, and then its tail popped out for a second. I imagine no-one has snitched on it yet because they’re afraid of him.

Day 11:

Me and a friend met in the library for a study session. A couple minutes in, the transfer student came. Literally as soon as he appeared, the room erupted into gossip; every single conversation turned to him. My friendtried to get us to leave cause she was scared, but I just went back to studying and told her she was being stupid. I think I kind of started to feel bad for him. 

Realistically, I know he probablydid something in his old school to get a criminal record, but it’s hardly fair to leave him out of a second chance, especially with how ridiculous some of these rumours are getting. I mean, kill streak? Really? In what world would a serial killer be allowed to attend school like a regular student?

Day 20:

He hasn’t answered a single question in class incorrectly so far. I haven’t seen him in the library for a while, though. 

I wonder where he studies.

Day 23:

Today marked the first rain I’d seen for three weeks. Rudely started out of nowhere in class, while I was totally unprepared; no umbrella or anything. After school, I popped down to the diner for a coffee, cause I didn’t feel like walking home in therain, and I saw the transfer kid studying in the corner alone. 

Kind of wanted to say hi, but his criminal record scared me off. Besides, I didn’t really want to ignore Kamoshida’s advice. The kid seemed fine in school, but he might have acted differently had there been no teachers to keep an eye on him. Instead, I just got some coffee and left as soon as the rain let up.

Day 24:

My classmates kept talking about him right in front of his face. I’m positive he heard, but he just kept his head down. 

I haven’t even seen him touch a single personsince he came here.

Day 28:

The past few days, the history teacher has made it a point to keep asking the transfer student increasingly ridiculous questions until he gets onewrong. Today, I saw this really dumb, smug look on his face after he finally pressed a wrong answer out of him. Had the balls to tell him to study more, too.

I got so annoyed with him that I turned to the student and said there were other people in the class as well. The teacher musthave been eavesdropping though, cause I got told to stand outside and had tosee the principal after school. The transfer kid looked kind of surprised. 

Kind of got the vibe he wasn’t used to having people stand up for him.

Day 29:

Got caught in the rain today. Really wouldn’t mind normally,but I had a Yakisoba pan in my bag and I didn’t want it to get soggy. I waitedunder the school roof for like half an hour doing absolutely nothing at all,until transfer kid walked out with an umbrella. I must have been eyeing it alittle funny (to be honest, I was just angry I hadn’t packed mine again sincethe last time it rained) cause he turned to me and offered his.

I was kind of shell-shocked, so I just said no. He asked me if I was sure, and when I said I was, he just smiled and told me not to get sick before leaving.

By God, his smile was cute.

Day 31:

I got sick. He was right; I should have taken that umbrella.

Day 32:

Everyone avoided me today cause I kept sneezing in class. I think they’re all bitch-ass losers afraid of a cold, but whatever.

Day 33:

My parents called in sick for me so I could study in the diner instead. It was a super dreary day, and I knew for a fact I was gonna get caught out in the middle of the rain again, but I just kind of accepted it this time. I was already ill so I didn’t really care.

Roughly after school time, the place filled up with other students. I was safe for a little while, cause no one wanted to sit next to the girl that kept sniffling. At least until the transfer kid came in. There weren’t any spare spaces apart from the ones opposite me, and I kind of felt bad cause I knew for a fact I’d taken his spot. When he looked over in my direction, it seemed like he was gonna decide to just leave and give up on studying in the cafe, but when I smiled and waved at him he changed his mind and sat down.

Looked a little surprised, but I think he was glad. Seemed like he didn’t want to sit next to me in case I found him scary or something.

We had a short conversation about schoolwork, and I got a coughing fit somewhere in the middle. To his credit, he didn’t look disgusted or anything, (even asked if I was alright,) but I still felt a bit embarrassed, so I asked him if he had any reservations sitting next to the sick girl. He just laughed and asked if I had any reservations sitting next to the delinquent. I think we shared a bit of a moment.

Found out his name, too.

Day 34:

Today the history teacher was being even more of an ass to Akira. Getting sent out again would have been kind of a pain, so I just googled the answers and whispered them to him until the teacher got bored and picked on someone else. He looked really grateful for it.

Day 36:

The diner was full today when I tried to go. Looking up ‘study cafes’ brought me to this cute little one in Yongen-Jaya called ‘Leblanc.’ The owner seemed kind of crabby, but it was quiet and I managed to get a lot of work done, so I think I’ll be coming back.

Day 39:

I was the only person in Leblanc for almost the entire day. It was so peaceful, I think I dozed off, cause I solved a couple of maths equations and next thing I knew it was almost seven in the evening. The owner looked kind of embarrassed, too, like felt bad about not having the heart to wake me up.

I was getting ready to pack up when the bell rang and someone else walked in. Thought it was kind of weird that a customer would be coming in at that time, cause I was pretty sure the cafe was supposed to be closing in like ten minutes. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be Akira, still in his school uniform, iconic black and white cat in his bag and everything.

In a weird way, it was kind of nice to see him. I hadn’t talked to him since the start of the week, and it was kind of a shame after that little moment we shared in the diner. He seemed happy to see me too, cause he smiled when I waved at him. The cute grin disappeared when owner of the cafe approached him and whispered something in his ear, though.

Akira replied in a really hushed tone, but I could still lip-read something along the lines of: ‘wrong idea’, and ‘just a friend,’ before the owner gave him a sly smile and announced he was closing up shop early. He asked me if I wanted to stay for a bit longer, and I didn’t really, but I felt rude leaving when he was offering. I ended up saying I would prefer to study for a bit longer if it was alright, and he said that it was no problem, and that Akira would lock the door when I was ready to leave.

I knew he could tell that I looked unsure, so I think the next thing he said was to reassure me. “Akira over here lives in the attic and helps me out sometimes,” he said, hanging the keys to him. “He’s more reliable than he seems though, so don’t worry.”

Nice guy, really. Shame he was kind of grumpy to his other customers.

Akira seemed kind of awkward when we were left alone. It made me feel like maybe it was because I was half-invading his home without proper acquaintance; this was kind of his door-way, after all, and I was staying way past my welcome. When I thought about it later, I was positive the owner only let me stay because he thought I was waiting for Akira the whole time.

It was up to me to break the silence then, and although I thought about asking him to show me round the attic, I decided against it. It was his room, after all, and asking to see a guy’s room so late in the evening would have sent all kinds of messages. So I asked him about his life in school instead, and ended up feeling super bad. Literally never seen a smile that was so shattered. He just rubbed the back of his head and said “yeah, it’s been rough.”

Got so annoyed at everyone. In that moment, I didn’t give single crap about what he’d done in his past. I just wanted to tell everyone in school to lay off and give him a break.

Maybe it was kind of stepping out of line a little, but I told him that if anyone was ever giving him shit, he should come to me and I would stand up for him. 

Over time, he opened up a little about his criminal record. He told me the full story of the apparent ‘assault’, and it honestly just made me furious. I was angry at everyone who was talking about him behind his back, angry at everyone who was blowing the rumours up, angry at Mr Kamoshida for making things seem more dire than they were. Angry at myself, too, for believing in that bullshit. I told him I was gonna go out of my way to correct people if I ever heard them talk, and he just shrugged and told me he was used to it and that I shouldn’t worry or I could be dragged down with him.

Right, as if I was just gonna take that. Next person who talks shit gets a lecture from yours truly. 

[esqeon]

Cherry | 6.4K

➥ pairing ▹ Jungkook | OC/Reader | Taehyung

➥ angst | friends to lovers au

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Then again, she wasn’t planning on seeing her best friend whom she’s have been in love with balls deep in someone else.

An unexpected friends to (potential) lovers angst fiction loosely based on the Studio Killers song Jenny.

I wanna ruin our friendship...

                                                                    ...We should be lovers instead

          It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Of course, she was drunk after all. It wasn’t like she was planning on walking in on Jungkook anytime soon… especially in such a compromising situation. Even in such a dark room with only the golden light of the street lamps outside coming in, her drunken mind could make out what was happening. Yeri’s dress – yes, Yeri’s dress, one of the girls he claimed he’d never hook up with because she was merely a freshman – had been ridden up to her waist, fingers tangled in his dark hair the way she’d pictured herself doing so many times.

Shaking her mind of the memory, she clutched onto the side of the picket fence. The white paint was chipping away as her grip tightened onto it, the mixture contents of before the party and the alcohol she had consumed beforehand bubbling up from her stomach and spewing onto the concrete. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve that was bunched up by her fist before standing herself up. Even though the tightening of her stomach threatened to get rid of whatever was left in her stomach, the burning rawness of her throat begged her keep walking, preferably home.

A frostbit breeze caressed her face as she walked, slowly sobering her up. She rubbed her arms which were covered with the sleeves of the loose, maroon pullover that Jungkook had given her earlier that night when Taehyung had excitedly spilt his “fun punch” all over her sweater dress with his arm swung around her. He frantically apologized and offered his flannel, but when he reached to pull it off, he fell into her instead, spilling more of the pure alcohol down her front.

Embarrassed on behalf of her friends, Rose had apologetically given her some leggings and a Black Sabbath t-shirt before heeding to a drunken Taehyung. Jungkook had insisted that she take his sweater since the night was so cold, reassuring her that she would still perfect in the oversized fabric. None of them would have guessed that she’d need it for the walk home later that night.

After walking a couple of blocks to the train station, she sat down. She wished that she could still feel the warmth of his large hands holding hers like she had so many times before. She could remember the smell of his cologne from earlier that day when they had ridden the train from her house to Rose’s, standing so close to him that she could smell it on the sweater that she is wearing now. As another soft breeze passed, she snuggled more into his sweater. The smell was still there, but faint now.

How did she let this happen? Had she never had that thought of “what would happen if” regarding Jungkook, she would have never seen him the way she does now. Had she kept sipping her iced coffee instead of looking up at that giggling smile of his, maybe her heart wouldn’t have started to beat so fast whenever he looked at her like that. Why did he have to look at her like that?

The blaring sound of the train rushing by, accompanied by the harsh frigid wind that came with it had snapped her sobering mind back to reality. She forced herself to stand and wobbled into the train, not having the energy to remain standing. It was harshly lit with a few other passengers on the train. A few were men and women in business attire, probably late to coming home to their families. The other few were probably other university students coming home from a party, too.

One thing for certain, though, is that none of them had burst into a drunken sob when they had walked in on seeing their best friend who they have been in love with all summer into autumn drunkenly screw one of the new, more popular students in their boring humanities study class. No, they most likely hadn’t thrown a Deadpool pop figurine at their best friend and shouted a big “fuck you” while their best friend was balls deep in someone else.

Even then, she guessed that if that had ever happened to any of these strangers on the train, none of them would have apologized to the said girl screwing their best friend because they felt bad for seeing her exposed like that. Besides, they probably would have remembered their phone, wallet, clothes, and dignity before failing to hold back a sob and running out of a house of partying students that they’d have to see on Monday morning. Yes, all of that is certain.

After nearly forty-five minutes of self-pitying and sobering up, she had stepped out of the train and onto the platform. She dragged herself to her apartment and for once was thankful that her roommate Hoseok was not there. No, he was with his girlfriend for the weekend. Thankfully.

When she walked in, she was greeted by the warmth of the apartment. Immediately after locking the front door, she pulled off Jungkook’s sweater, crumpling it into a ball before angrily throwing it across the small living room. She turned to the right and was immediately in her small room. This was her safe space and she mentally thanked herself for taking the time earlier in the week to clean it and keeping it that way.

She stepped towards her drawers and pulled one open only to be welcomed by an array of Jungkook’s t-shirts. She picked one up and held it to her chest. No, it no longer smelled of him. It’s been in her possession for that long. She tossed it behind her and did the same with every one of his t-shirts that she had. When she was done with that drawer, she did the same to the rest of the drawers, separating her clothing from his. She turned around to see a pile of his clothing in the middle of the small room. Did she really have this much of Jungkook’s stuff? Had she had it all this time? She looked back at her drawers and realized that most of the clothes that were hers were not comfortable enough to be sleeping in… wow, she had spent so many nights with Jungkook that she only ever slept in his oversized clothes.

She mentally scolded herself before walking through her Jack n’ Jill bathroom into Hoseok’s room to grab a large, black t-shirt of his from his closet. When she was back in the bathroom, she turned both the light and shower on before slamming both bedroom doors. She stared at herself in the mirror. Maybe if her throat didn’t burn so much, she’d outwardly scold herself for getting so drunk in the first place… for having such grand expectations of Jungkook… for falling in love with him.

She stripped herself of the outside clothes that she was wearing and rinsed her mouth with a cup of water before jumping into the steaming shower. She began her normal and quick showering routine, but stopped when she held the razor in her hand. She stared at it for a while. Now that she had ruined her relationship with Jungkook, what was the point in shaving anymore? Why did she shave for him anyway when he probably didn’t even notice if she did or didn’t? Fuck it, she thought. She sat down in the shower and let the warm water hit her back as the steam enveloped her in it’s warm embrace. It wasn’t until a couple of silent minutes that she realized it was her tears that were sliding down her rosy cheeks, and not the clean water washing away the smell of alcohol from her face.

When the tips of her fingers shriveled up, she turned off the faucet and stepped out into a cloud of steam. She dried and clothed herself before quickly opening her bedroom door and jumping onto her bed so that she could bundle herself up away from the cold. She sat up when she realized that, no, she didn’t remember to take out and throw away her one-time daily wear contact lenses. One they were pinched at and thrown into her bedside trash can, she laid herself back down into her nest of sheets and blankets. It wasn’t long until she had drifted asleep.

I don’t know how to say this...

                                                    ...‘Cause you’re really my dearest friend

A knock on the door may not seem like much of a noise until you are 1) hungover and 2) your ears become as sensitive as Superman’s due to said hangover, and that’s exactly what happened to her. Afternoon light had seeped its way through the space between the vertical window blinds, no matter how pulled shut they had been. She turned her back towards the light and wrapped herself more into her fortress of blanketude. Yet another knock sounded against her front door, followed by another knock, followed by another.

When she finally willed herself out of bed, she angrily swung open the door, only to be greeted by the one face she didn’t want to see carrying everything that she had left behind at the party (except the dignity, of course). “Hey.” Jungkook shifted uncomfortably before easing his way past her. She closed the door quickly, not wanting anymore of the impending winter air finding its way into an already cold apartment. She must’ve forgotten to turn the heat back on when she came back home.

She leaned on her room’s doorframe to see a puzzled Jungkook staring at the pile of his clothes on the floor. “Wha… what is this?” He raised a brow at her before furrowing them in confusion. “I-“, she cleared her sore throat before continuing, “I thought you’d want your stuff back.” She cleared her scratchy throat again and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. With his lips forming into a straight line, he mirrored her body, shifting his weight on one leg and folding his arms over themselves. “And why would I want my stuff back?”

Tired eyes bore at each other before she decided to break the momentary silence. “Look, Jungkook, I… I think we should take a break from… our friendship.” When the word ‘friendship’ left her lips, it left a sour taste in her mouth. She didn’t know how else to say it, and in truth, she didn’t know what their relationship had become at that point. All she knew was that she had poured her love into a man that would never give it back.

Jungkook furrowed his eyes and scoffed. “Look, I know it was… really weird walking in on that, but it’s nothing to be embarrassed about okay! It was a onetime thing anyways.” She shook her head at him, “no, no, that’s… that’s not it Jungkook. It’s not about that.” He raised a brow. “Then what is?” A sting came from her bottom lip, and she realized that she’d been nervously gnawing on it. With a deep breath, she repeated herself: “Jungkook, I need to take a break. From our friendship… from you.”

“But…” he shook his head, trying to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth, “I still don’t understand. Why?” With another deep inhale, she straightened herself up. She never thought she’d have to confess or confront him in any way. In all of her fantasies, he would have just kissed her, or her him, and that would be all they needed to live happily ever after together. But this wasn’t one of her many daydreams, no. He was standing in front of her right now, and she’d have to face rejection from not only the man she’s loved, but her best friend.

“Jungkook, I’m in love with you.”

  Take my hand...

                                                                        ...We are more than friends

The slight hum of crickets from the distance seemed to distract from her current daydreaming as she sat on a park bench. Blinking her eyes which had somehow readjusted to the harsh light of summer day, she rubbed the slightly red and burnt skin of hers. How long had she been sitting here? She was supposed to be reading a book for her summer reading assignment, but instead, she drifted off yet again.

It’s been months since she’s last seen anyone: Taehyung, Rose… Jungkook. After confessing to Jungkook, she had locked herself in Hoseok’s room, and waited for Jungkook to leave. She remembers how dumbfounded he looked: a vacant stare became apologetic when he realized that, no, she said “in love with you” and not just the normal “I love you”. She had heard him mumbling to himself, but couldn’t make out any actual words. A few thuds and curses, but she couldn’t truly focus when she was holding back tears that threatened to fall.

When he did finally leave with all of his possessions that he could find, she cracked open the bedroom door, making one final check for his presence before erupting into another sob. She had sat herself on the floor between the loveseat and the small coffee table, holding herself together as tight as she could while she sobbed in the tiny living room. By the time Hoseok came home, she had fallen asleep on the couch curled into a ball. Hoseok noticed things were missing, especially in her room which had pretty much been a shared bedroom for both her and Jungkook. Her wallet and folded clothes had been placed neatly on the coffee table, her phone buzzing from received notifications, mostly from Taehyung, but a few from Rose.

Hoseok had dropped his own bags onto the loveseat, picking up his roommate and carrying her to her bed, tucking her in and placing her belongings on her desk. He went through the bathroom to get to his when he saw unfamiliar clothes on the bathroom floor. The t-shirt and leggings, he couldn’t recognize ownership, but the sweater? He’d recognize any piece of Jungkook’s clothing anywhere, he saw the boy often enough. He picked up the sweater and threw it in his laundry bin before falling onto his own bed and drifting off to sleep too.

He didn’t bother her after that. He didn’t ask her why Jungkook never came by anymore, or why Yeri would roll her eyes every time someone mentioned her while they hung out, or even why Taehyung would ask about her well-being apart from everyone. No, he knew something was going on and that this was affecting her deeply. But as far as his affection went, he could only give her a tight squeeze before telling her, “Feel however you feel, but just remember that people are not able to meet the expectations you hold for them. So, don’t be surprised and try to move on.” That was not helpful.

Another blare from car horns on the street kept her from meddling in her thoughts and falling back to sleep again. She stood up and gathered her belongings, tying her hair up in a bun so that her sweaty neck could breathe in this oppressive heat. She walked out of the park and into a nearby drug-store. She headed to the back of the store, which thank God had air conditioning, but smelled of stale wood and sweat which made her crinkle her nose in disgust. After scanning all of the items in the fridge, she settled yet again for her favorite iced coffee and continued to mosey around the aisles before making her way to the counter to pay for her coffee.

Because she was busy reaching into her wallet for some cash and readjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose, she didn’t notice the clear of a throat behind her. “Hey…” She felt the tap of her shoulder and she turned around to see Taehyung behind her in his backwards snapback. “Oh, hey.” She turned back to hand the cashier the exact cash and grab her drink, quickly dropping her half-zipped wallet into her backpack. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.” He tried to grab her attention by moving his face slightly more into her peripheral vision.

“Mhm.” She nodded and turned to face him, “See you around.” She faked a smile before hurriedly brushing past him and out the door. She didn’t welcome the humidity, but it seemed like a better decision than having to talk to an old, ‘but-mostly-Jungkook’s’ friend. She stopped at the cross walk and rubbed at her sore thigh from having been given a sweet raspberry from her other thigh. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn shorts today…

“Yikes, that looks like it hurts.” Taehyung elbowed her as they waited. “What?” she stared at him wide eyed and glanced around her surroundings, wondering how he got there. “I have an extra pair of chinos in my bag. They might be a little long and the fit might be weird but I’m sure you can pull it off.” He started to pull them out of his backpack, but she stopped him.

“Taehyung, why are you talking to me? What are you doing here?” She asked defensively. He raised a brow before zipping up his backpack and swinging it back over his shoulder. “Well, number one; last time I checked, we were friendswhen you suddenly stopped talking to me, and number two; I live on the same floor as you, remember? I just assumed that you were going home too, so, why not just walk together like old times?”

The memory of last summer came rushing back to her like an unwelcome tidal wave. She had taken a summer photography class with both Taehyung and Jungkook. They’d walk home together, ultimately ending up in her ungodly hot apartment and would wait together until the AC kicked in just enough to be comfortable again. They’d hang out, focusing more on whatever video game they were playing or movie they were watching before Hoseok would remind Taehyung and Jungkook that it was now the next day and they had their own apartments. Taehyung would begrudgingly go home next door. Jungkook would just follow her to her bed.

The light for crossing came on, but she still furrowed her brows at him whilst her mouth formed a thin line across her face. “Are you coming?” He grinned at the wary girl before taking her hand and pulling her across the street. She let him drag him as she threw her head back and groaned in response. The two held hands for a while before she withdrew her sweaty hand from him. She wiped away the sweat on her shorts and folded her arms across her chest.

The rest of the walk home was in silence, save for the few comments by Taehyung such as ‘you lost weight,’, ‘you should take a nap when you get home’, and ‘I hope you take it easy this semester’. She had to admit that it was nice that he had walked her all the way to her apartment door, but having him around just felt a little insincere. Before she turned to unlock her door, she stared at him.

“What?” he smiled, hoping that she would say something nice, or anything at all. “Why are you actually here Taehyung?” His smile faded and his sight averted to the ground. “We all miss having you around. I miss having you around and… Jungkook – ”

“What about him?” she rolled her eyes at his mention. “Well, Jungkook misses you too.” She scoffed, “Oh does he?” Taehyung nodded, not daring to look her in the face. When she began to turn towards the door, he looked up and finally held her same gaze and she raised a brow to urged him silently to continue. “Look, he missed you, okay? I’m not sure exactly what happened between you two, but you can’t just stop talking… it’s hurting all of us.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t seem to miss me.” She rolled her eyes. “What makes you say that? Is it because he’s leaving and hasn’t reached out?” This time she furrowed her brows and crossed her arms. “What do you mean, Taehyung?” She asked, the tone of her voice stern and cold. His face fell, defeated. “He’s leaving for Europe in a few weeks. He got the job at Agfa in Germany. Didn’t Hoseok tell you any of that?” Hoseok might have mentioned that. “No, he didn’t. And, to be honest, I don’t care anymore.” She did.

“What do you mean you don’t care?” He knows she does. “Look, Taehyung, it’s a wonderful opportunity for him. He’ll be able to make whatever stupid looking cameras he wants to make to his heart’s content.” She spat, the bitterness doing nothing to help relieve the tension built up between them. “That’s just fantastic. After everything we’ve been through. I thought we…  we’re all friends!” he exclaimed. “If you all were really my friends, you would’ve reached out to me. You would’ve listened to my side of everything or just… listened to how I felt.” She exclaimed back, this time turning her back to Taehyung and unlocking her door.

“That’s so unfair! I… You didn’t try talking to us either. Besides, it’s not Jungkook’s fault that he didn’t love you like…” Taehyung stopped himself once he saw the tears begin to form in her eyes. “Like I loved him?” She sniffled and stared at him for a moment before slamming her front door shut. She locked the door, then retreated to her bathroom to take a cool shower and wipe her face of the hot tears that rolled down her burning skin, ignoring the fact that Taehyung was still standing outside her door.

She didn’t hear him finish his sentence under his breath before walking away.

“…like I loved you.”

I cannot pretend...

                                                       ...Why I never liked your new boyfriends

Taehyung had met her when Jungkook had met up with them one day for lunch. She had on a yellow, boat-neck shirt and high-waisted, black jeans that were tucked into her black, knee-high boots. Her dark-rimmed classes laid high on her nose, her hair tied up in braids. Her smile was shy and sweet, fingers fidgeting with her belt loop. He took in her appearance and, like the first time he met Jungkook, he decided that he’d be her protector, her friend.

But she didn’t need a protector. No. She needed a friend. The more they went out together, the more Taehyung realized that she’d never see him as the knight in shining armor, and for him, that would be okay. Instead, he found someone who was wickedly intelligent and resilient. Her eyes instead lit up at the mention of the stars that she was devoting her future career to. Did you know that Proxima Centauri is the closest star to our solar system? She did, and now he did, too.

Sometimes, they’d sit on her couch while Jungkook and Hoseok would argue over who’s turn it was to play Overwatch, and she’d rant about how much she loved D.Va and Zarya, and how much she related to them. Since then, D.Va had become is favorite player. That was okay.

There were times when it’d just be them, and Taehyung would feel much closer to her than before. Sometimes it’d be just them for dinner, or maybe they’d sit on her couch watching ghost stories, conspiracy theories, or TedTalks about the universe. It didn’t matter what they watched because most of that time, he was watching her, and that was okay.

It wasn’t until one of their first college parties (the one that they were invited to when they first met Rose), that he noticed the way she reverted into the fidgety girl he first met. He placed the palm of his hand gently on the small of her back as he leaned down into her ear to whisper, “what’s wrong?” The way she sank into herself concerned him, so he asked again, this time wrapping his arm around her arm to pull her in closer. “Do you think Jungkook is dating Rose?” she asked.

Taehyung furrowed her brows at her question. Did they flirt when they were together? The last he checked, Rose was interested in someone else (at that time, it was Joshua, he remembers. Now, she was more into her longtime friend Jennie). He couldn’t give a solid answer on Jungkook, because Jungkook hadn’t spoken about anyone for quite a while. “No, I don’t think so, why?”

“Oh, okay… it’s just…” she trailed off, this time standing straight and patting the wrinkles from her dress. “Thanks, Tae. I’m going to find Jungkook.” She half smiled, and walked away. He smiled to himself, thanking whatever it was that made her feel confident again and decided to get another drink. Jennie was in the kitchen, nursing her third drink when she saw Taehyung poured himself another cheap daquiri-rip-off. She tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, and he turned around and grinned.

“Oh hey. Jennie, right?” He leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, and you’re Taehyung? Friends with the other two?” She asked, and he nodded and pointed out his pair of friends that happened to be talking to Rose. “And you’re friends with Rose, right?” Jennie’s smile became faint, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah… we’re… just friends.”

Taehyung tilted his head to the side after taking another, larger sip. “What do you mean just friends? Do you like her?” Jennie choked on her drink and began giggling. “Yeah, yeah, I guess who can say that. I think she likes someone else though.” Taehyung took a deep breath, “Please tell me she doesn’t like Jungkook.” Jennie giggled again, this time shaking her head. “No, no, she likes some guy in her math class. Why?”

It was Taehyung’s turn to chuckle uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was beginning to like Rose, but my… friend is a little protective of Jungkook so naturally I’d have to take her side.” Jennie looked back at the couple conversing and laughing with Rose. “Who? Her?” She asked, nodding over to the girl standing rather close to Jungkook. “Yeah, that’s her.” Taehyung smiled. Jennie made a ‘tsk’ and shook her head as she took a long swig of her drink. “What?”

“You like her, don’t you?” Jennie asked. He frowned at his new, small friend. “Is that such a terrible thing?” He wondered out loud, to which Jennie nodded with an empathetic look and a pat on his shoulder. “Can’t you see it? She’s already head over heels for Jungkook. Hell, at first I thought they were a couple when they walked in but now I guess I know better.” Taehyung furrowed his brows and glanced back over to them, noticing how much closer she had been getting to Jungkook, smiling and cuddling up next to him while he spoke to Rose. It took him a while before he realized that she wasn’t just being a protective friend.

It all made sense to why her smile would fade whenever Jungkook would cancel to meet up with them, or why she always seemed distracted when Taehyung spoke to her. It made sense why she had clung onto him when it rained, even though Taehyung was the one who held the umbrella over her head. He never stopped being kind to her, though. Even though he knew that there was a great chance that she’d never love him, he still tried to at least be a good friend. Because he truly loved her, he let her go and settled to make her happy. And that was okay.

But that had become impossible the afternoon he ran into Jungkook outside in the hallway of their floor with garbage bags filled with clothes and his trinkets. Taehyung welcomed his friend inside and for the rest of the night, they sat on the couch drinking vanilla vodka chased with cherry coke. Questions about her hung at the very tip of Taehyung’s tongue, but he stopped himself from asking for the sake of Jungkook and for the sake of himself. Instead, they settled for watching awful indie movies and binging on leftovers before deciding it was time for bed.

Later in the night, he heard rustling coming from the living room where Jungkook was supposed to be sleeping. Taehyung forced himself up from the warm embrace of his comforter and trudged down the hallway to see Jungkook dressed and his bags tossed on the couch. Taehyung cleared his throat to get Jungkook’s attention, to which Jungkook only sighed as he buttoned the last of his plaid flannel.

“How long have you been up?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook sat down next to his bags and Taehyung joined him, sitting diagonal from him on the armant chair. “I can’t sleep.” Jungkook finally said after a long silence. “Have you even tried?” Taehyung gave a halfhearted chuckle, but Jungkook didn’t even smile.

“She told me she loved me.” Jungkook fiddled with a hole in his jeans. “Well, that’s not weird, we say that all the –”

“She said she was in love with me, hyung.” Jungkook interrupted him. It was like a tidal wave of emotion had consumed both in the moment, followed by an uncomfortably long silence. “Do you… love her back?” Taehyung muttered. Jungkook lifted his blank stare from the ground towards Taehyung who was already staring at him. “What?”

“Do you love her back?”

“I didn’t say anything, I just left.”

“But that’s not what I asked. Do you love her?” Taehyung’s voice remained firm, but calm. Jungkook shrugged at the question and sank more into the couch. “I don’t know, I never thought of her that way.” Taehyung nodded to signal him to continue. “I guess,” Jungkook sighed, “I’d consider it but… maybe I’ll keep her in mind if I don’t meet someone, y’know?”

A burn bubbled in Taehyung’s chest, up into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. As he clenched and unclenched his hands, he took a breath to calm himself before responding. “The one you love should always be the first choice, Jungkook-ssi. There’s no such thing as a contingency plan when it comes to things like that.” Jungkook raised a brow at his older friend as he tried not to smile.

“Contingency plan? Now you’re starting to sound like her.” Jungkook furrowed his brows as he stared at Taehyung who had averted his eyes to the ground. “Fuck. You’re in love with her.” Jungkook breathed. Taehyung rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well, she’s in love with you. I’ll get over it, but you need to figure out what you want.”

“Because you already got it figured out, huh?” Jungkook quipped, rolling his tongue against his cheek. “Oh, now you care?” Taehyung huffed. “I’m just looking out for my best friend, that’s all.” Jungkook pushed his bags off of the couch and laid himself down comfortably, wrapping himself up in the blanket he had folded earlier when he had the energy to leave. “Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve protected her from yourself.” Taehyung spat, earning an eyeroll from Jungkook.

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry. I take back what I said.” Jungkook closed his eyes, the urge to sleep overcoming him finally. “Now is better than ever since she wants nothing to do with me anymore.”

Taehyung thought for second. “When did she say that?” Jungkook just shrugged. “I dunno, I just know her is all. But don’t forget what I said, hyung. If you want her, now’s your chance since I guess I won’t be there to stop you.” There was a bit of malice in those words that Jungkook spoke before he drifted off to sleep. Taehyung sat for a while pondering the conversation…

He’d be lying to himself if he said that he’d never thought of Jungkook, as much as he loved him, had been out of the picture. What if she had woken up one day and changed her mind? What if she had looked at him the way she looked at Jungkook? What he wasn’t expecting, was for her to say in love with. She was in love with Jungkook, not him.

She said she was in love with me, hyung.

He didn’t want to, but his mind pictured her as she said it. It had happened in the late morning, so she probably had her glasses high up on her nose already. She’d be wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweater since she gets cold so easily… but would she had cried when she said it? Did she stutter at all? No, he didn’t want to picture her crying, not now. It would pain him to know that, right now, she was on the other side of the wall all alone and balling her eyes out over some boy who was now snoring obnoxiously on the sofa.

No. He’d certainly be the one who’d want to comfort her. He knew Hoseok, and Hoseok wasn’t much of the comforting or affectionate type, and as much as he’d like to think that she and Rose had gotten past the acquaintance zone, he knew that it would take much more time for her to open up to her about this. No, other than Jungkook, the only other person she could possibly open up to – if he were lucky – would be Taehyung.

Now is better than ever, Jungkook’s words haunted him. This was his chance. He could walk out of his apartment right now, bang on her door, and hold her. If he wanted her, he could do it. But he does just want her… he was in love with her.

Taehyung stared at the wall before giving up and heading back to bed. Yes, he was the one in love with her who was in love with Jungkook. Now was his chance. He wanted her, but not like this.

                         Forget them...

                                                                               ...I’m yours

The next morning had come too quickly. Her heavy eyelids ungracefully fluttered open, and she rubbed the crust from them. She lied on her back, staring at the fan that ran quickly on the ceiling. Sunlight has begun to seep into her room and she glanced at her digital clock on her nightstand. 6:00 AM. She didn’t have to be in awake for another three hours. Still, she forced herself upright in bed, stretching and putting on her glasses.

She lazily stood up and threw on a pair of leggings and an old, oversized flannel. She watched herself in the mirror and analyzed her face: she had cried again last night, so her eyes were swollen and stained with a familiar red. She rubbed at her dry face and decided to moisturize it, scolding herself for not drinking enough water the past week. Afterwards, she carelessly tied her hair in a bun, and trudged to the kitchen with the hope that her roommate had already made her morning tea.

The kettle lay on the stove, and she felt around to check for any sign of warmth. There was none. She sighed as she grabbed the handle of the kettle to fill it up with water. She turned on the stove and waited for the whistle to sound as she took a clean mug from the drying rack and gathered the makings of her favorite tea. While waiting, her roommate came out of his room wearing only his sweatpants and the shirt he was wearing yesterday.

“Ew, didn’t you sweat in that all day yesterday?” She asked, her face grimacing. Hoseok lifted his arm and pretended to sniff himself, scrunching his face. She rolled her eyes and turned back to watching her tea. “Why are you up so early?” he asked, to which she just shrugged. Hoseok watched her closely, taking notice that she was avoiding his stare so that he wouldn’t notice her puffed up eyes. He most definitely noticed.

He leaned against the counter across from where she was standing and crossed his arms. There was a lull between them as they waited for the kettle to whistle, but the calm was interrupted by a knock on the door. She went to glance over her shoulder when her eyes met with Hoseok’s. They stared at each other, both narrowing their eyes as the knocks continued before she gave up. “Ugh, fine, I’ll get it.” Hoseok smirked to himself in victory, taking another clean mug from the drying rack and filling her spot next to the kettle.

She turned out of the kitchen, unlocking and swinging open the door only to nearly get hit in the face by a clenched fist. “Oh, sorry.” Taehyung apologized with a wary smile. She slammed the door shut, staying in her spot behind the door. There was another knock this time, and she opened it again. “Go away Taehyung.” She spat, slamming the door shut, staying in her spot behind the door. There was another knock this time, and she opened it again. “Go away T-” she began, but was interrupted.

The whistling ceased from the kitchen as Hoseok poured himself a cup of tea, seeping some loose leaf green tea and squeezing a few drops of honey into it. He blew at the cup, trying to cool it down, and cupped his hands around the mug. “Hey,” he called out to his roommate, “who was it?” When there was no answer, he turned the corner and peered at the front door from the kitchen.

Surprise had overcome him when he had seen that Taehyung still had his palms cupping her face, his eyes closed, and their lips still pressed together. He hid himself slightly behind the wall, wondering for how long this would continue. Taehyung had broken the kiss, retreating from her body and walking back into his apartment next door. She, however, still stood there, wondering why she let him kiss her and why the sudden action was making her heart beat so fast.

Hoseok returned to his spot next to the kettle and called again, “Hey? Who was it?” She blinked a few times and brought her right palm to her heart. “No one,” she furrowed her eyes and shook her head, even though Hoseok couldn’t see her, “no one. Just an old friend.”

[AN*]: I haven’t posted a fanfiction or any sort of fiction for years... This is my first in a long time and I just want to thank @spliffiex and my other friends who I haven’t tagged for giving me the support and encouragement to write and post this! 

[idiosyncrasy-at-its-finest]

get over it

Nov. 18, 2020.  spent my study hall writing this– my new thing: not proofreading!  enjoy.  it’s long.  five pages long in google docs.  good luck!

I have a tendency to overthink, to force, to meddle.  Can one meddle in their own life?  Apparently.

Get over it, I tell myself constantly.  It happened so long ago.  Don’t get hung up over this; it’s been four years.  Get over it.

No.  Not that it was traumatic or anything, but it was a fairly big deal to me.  Not a life “event” per se, as it was a collection of experiences that fused into one regret, but it’s left its impact on me.  A big one, if the numerous pieces of writing inspired by it might show.

I had a best friend.  We met in fourth grade, when his best friend bet me and my closest friend at the time five dollars we couldn’t tag him.  He wasn’t the fastest runner, she was a lacrosse player, and I was still full of energy and excitement.  And then another class was coming out to recess and he tapped in his friend, said we’d have to tag this kid.  He was short, with a cute smile, and a small scar beside… I forget which eyebrow… left or right.  I forget.

He was a fast runner, the kid who ran the pacer without breaking a sweat, his carefree smile growing sharper as each competitor dropped out.  The PE teacher would always have to stop the recording when it was just him running back and forth.  He’d keep running.  We’d clap.  He’d realize it was over.  He’d run to us, not even grabbing a drink of water from the water fountain.  His hair would be raised and pushed back, the wind styling it.

That day in recess, I didn’t tag him.  Neither did my other friend.  When we got called to go back in class, I tapped his shoulder.  He said it didn’t count, which it didn’t, but what did count was that I’d made a new friend.

Fifth grade, we shared the same advanced math class.  When I waited in the halls, he’d pass by.  And then he’d stand near me.  When I stood outside a classroom for a course we didn’t share, he’d smile.  At some point, he began stopping slightly when he saw me.  And then he was bringing lollipops to school and giving one to me when our eyes met, smiles exchanged, and hands brushed– an exchange sweeter than candy.

One time, during recess, the others went to the kickball field.  I decided to hang around on the playground.  He came to me, was a little less happy than he normally was– didn’t want to play sports with his friends.  He was wearing a gray dri fit shirt, I remember, and a dark pair of basketball shorts.  We laughed the whole recess, and when I stepped in line to go back in, my friends teased me about us.  I’d brushed them off, grinning because we’d created an inside joke.  One about baseball and how my athletically-challenged self would one day be the best player the world ever saw.

We started signing each other’s things.  Autographing– so that when the other got famous we could sell it, of course.  Preparing each other for financial pitfalls.  How kind.

Sixth grade.  Open house.  We were in the same class.  I was excited.  He didn’t even spare me a glance.  I didn’t call out to him; I didn’t want my mom to see me reach out to a boy.

We became best friends, though.  Our class had a ship name for us.  I hated it– outwardly.  Actually, in the beginning it didn’t bother me.  But then my friends would point out how he teased me, how he stared when I ran my fingers through my hair (I finger-brushed my hair rather than properly take care of it– still don’t properly brush it).  They suspected he liked me.  I proposed to him, one day.  After a photo for spirit day, when I’d stayed kneeling since I was taller than him, I pulled his arm.  I stared into his eyes.  Will you marry me?  He said yes.  And then he gave me his cheese stick at lunch to seal the deal.

And then I grew uncomfortable, because after flaunting our “relationship”, the whole grade knew.  They congratulated us, and asked us when the wedding would be.  So I broke it off, told him in an over dramatic fashion, hand thrown over my forehead that it’s not you.  It’s me.  And then he didn’t talk to me for three days.  Maybe he did like me.  Up until then, whenever a boy liked me, I was suddenly disgusted.  But this realization, that my best friend– short, sporty, caring, funny, amazingly sweet, smart– might like me… made me giddy.  And then in March of 2016, I began to like him.

Uh oh.

You see, I was a pretty strange kid.  I made funny faces, I told gross jokes, I was physically aggressive.  And then… and then I liked someone.  I didn’t want him to see how “weird” I could be.  I started acting differently.  Even though we were best friends and there was no way he hadn’t already realized what a lunatic I was.

Sixth grade was also when I began to read wattpad.  I wanted a guy best friend.  I wanted my parents to like him, for him to crawl into my bed during cold and scary nights without it being weird, for us to be elementary school best friends turning into something more… I forced him into a mold.  For what?

Our relationship turned strained.  Before I left, I made him promise to always be my best friend.  A desperate attempt to keep him.  He agreed.

I don’t have a best friend right now.  I don’t like the term, I don’t use it.  Because he’s my best friend.  It’s like a dying wish, but a leaving wish.  Equally as important.  I made a leaving wish.

I’ve since come to realize– or since manipulated the situation into one to make myself feel better– that he’s the one who broke the promise.  He changed.  After I moved, replies got short.  Conversations turned dry.  He eventually unadded me on snapchat.

So… why dwell on these unfortunate elementary school events?

My mom started watching Dawson’s Creek recently and I’ve been tuning in.  It hurts.  To see on screen what I’ve longed for for so long.  What I longed for that ruined a friendship.

Dawson and Joey, best friends.  Grew up together, sleep in the same bed.  I was a military brat; I never lived anywhere longer than three years consecutively.  Now, I’ve been in the country I’m in for four years, this being my fifth.  I’ll be here until I graduate, making the grand total six years.  Too late to make an elementary school best friend, but a highschool best friend… a guy I can talk to about anything, even sexual things (though my experiences in this field have been slim to none… they’ve actually just been none).  And I almost had it.  And then I got too attached again.  We haven’t talked in three weeks or so.  I hope it doesn’t turn into three years like it did with…

It’s too late.  I was watching the show, thinking about a guy who lives in my neighborhood.  The guy that both my parents like, that my mom really likes because he walks me home at night after traditional biweekly movie nights, after long walks.  It’s a comfortable group of three, me, him, and another girl.  For a bit, she’d insist on how cute a couple we’d be.  But I didn’t like him like that.  I certainly could– it wouldn’t be hard.  But he deserved better than to be someone’s second choice.  Or third, I suppose, if the context is me trying to find a guy best friend to intertwine my life with.

I’m too easily manipulated.  Teen writings made me yearn for a specific type of friendship; my friend could easily convince me to like the sweet boy next door (but not really next door, more like a few streets up).  The boy a few streets up.

Watching Dawson’s Creek has made me realize it’s most definitely too late for me to develop a relationship where we can tease each other, where when I’m changing, he takes too long to turn around because “what?  Not like I haven’t seen you naked before” because we’d bathed together as babies.  Too late to begin to sleep in the same bed with a member of the opposite sex, a member of the sex I’m attracted to.

I can’t have that.  I won’t ever have that.  Even if, when I go to college, I make a great guy friend.  It won’t be the same as the highschool relationship I’ve romanticized for years now.

I sat on the floor, bum resting on a soft blue cushion, tub of Magnum ice cream cradled in hands, spoon dangling from between parted lips.  I’m not going to get that.  Ever.  So I need to stop pining for it.  Because it’s not going to happen.

But I have a neighborhood gang.  A group of friends who watches a movie every other Friday, who gets together at least once a week to sit in a field and talk about life.  A friend to walk to school with and a guy who breezes past us on his bike, sending an easy smile.  I already have a wonderful, beautiful trio.  Outside of that, I have other friends.  A friend who doesn’t live in the neighborhood but that I can call without hesitation, knowing she’ll pick up even if she’s in the shower, at dinner, with other people.  I have good, reliable people in my life.  I don’t need a boy next door, a boy a creek down best friend.  I have a boy a few streets up.  I have a girl a brisk walk close.  I have a girl a call away.

I have my parents, not lax enough to let me walk out the house without providing a heads up, not chill enough to let a boy in my room, not absent enough for me to do whatever I want.  True, I wish I had a few more freedoms, but… I should be content with my life.  I have so much.

And it hurts– to have to let go of my fantasy.  Of this dream I’ve clung onto for so long my knuckles have turned white, my nails have dug into the flesh of my palms, crusted over blood surrounding fresh pools.  Of this idea I’ve fallen in love with, head over heels, straight into a beautiful, soft lie.  An unattainable, unrealistic, unhealthy fantasy.  It’s not something I can get.  Wanting it will only continue to upset me.

And why should I be upset?  When I’m a few strides away from a field, from a small playground, from a bubble tea store, from school, from my friends.  I don’t have a creek, I don’t have a boy who can run the pacer without panting after, who only has a light smile I pretend is just for me on his face.  I have something real, somethings.  I have life.  My life.

I’ve come to this realization recently, that I can’t get what I’ve always wanted.  Maybe that’s why I keep clinging onto my youth, because I’m hoping to fulfill some pipedream.  There’s a lot of things in my life that have been affected by this unhealthy obsession.

It still hurts, like a breakup, a fresh wound.  Maybe the latter would be the better comparison– I’ve never been through a proper breakup.  Things that have felt like it, maybe.  But not a romantic one.

Oh wait.  Too late now, but before the boy a few streets up (or at the same time I became friends with him), there was another one.  The guy who texted, shared memes, called to study, manipulated, rejected on Valentine’s Day.  A story for another day, I suppose.  But you can bet that he was also ruined because of my dream.

It still hurts.  But I’m happier now– or at least on the path to get there.  Because I’ve pinned down a very big problem and am trying to put it behind.

[miraimisu]

Oh boy, what do we have here, I WANT ALL OF THEM jk can i request a 30 for kacchako? You're the best 💖

I think this is gonna be the toughest and shortest one out of them because this is too tight as plot-wise and… idk? It turned out to be a bit clumsy. I’ll just let my imagination fly. And you are the best hon, where did your creativity come from? WRITE ME A FIC TOO.

Bakugou Katsuki hated libraries.

This was general knowledge among all students that dared come near the blonde– which reduced the count to, like, a pair of people? which was a bit sad actually. But Bakugou didn’t mind having a lame social life as long as nobody took him to a library. He had actually tried some tutoring with Kirishima some months ago and trust him, being kicked out of the quietest place on Earth was everything but pleasant.

Today, however, he had no other option but stay there, in the jampacked library full of nerds listening to music or reading books like their life depended on it. All tables were taken around him: shelves were surrounded with people swarming for tons of emboilled wording, tables were packed to the brim with bags, sheets and notebooks. There was this lingering scent of wood, pine, and closeness around him, silence that tried to be silent but ended being composed of hushed murmurs.

He knew why,

It was because of his table.

His table had the best spot in the entire library. It was near enough to the entrance, but not as close as to let winter breezes reach him. There was a big window by his side, letting night snow be seen, but cars weren’t heard this late in the evening. It shows that Yuuei was going through it’s final exams– Bakugou had, no joke, been there from sun to sun and he was too tired to deal with people.

They whispered.

They whispered because his table was completely devoid of any people but him, everyone too scared to approach him lest he threw a tantrum over personal space and threw them off the window. The fire king was fierce, had possesion of the best table around and was undeniably untouchable.

Bakugou, again, hated libraries. They weren’t as silent as they preached to be, there was always this subtone of hushed voices that spoke no pragmatic matter, only petty gossiping that brought no good to his ears. He was easy into focusing, and quirk to do his homework, but that little toneless chatter was pestering him– hell, if he couldn’t stand Deku’s mumbling for a living, how was he going to condone such generalized murmuring all around him?

Another of his pencils broke in twain when he heard his name being pronounced among a pair of girls. Maybe his pencil breaking business was what got him so isolated. There were people sitting on the floor, as if truthfully fearful of the explosion boy.

Suddenly, a low voice came beside him.

“Can I sit here?” oh, he could recognize that voice anywhere. “All other tables are full.”

He pulled the chair out for Uraraka to take, and she gladly jumped in with a stack of hero law books tucked in his arms. She silently tidied her place with a little smile– people could only stare at her, mouths agape, as if she had dared to cross a forbidden threshold for all humankind. His response to her presence was almost inmediate and utmost unkind. “Don’t make any fucking noise, Uraraka. I can sniff your chatter urges a mile away.”

She rose an eyebrow to him. The first thing he noticed was the lack of spark in her brown pools, a evident sign of exhaustion that he had learnt to tell apart from other ocular displays of her– blinking ‘I need your help’ eyes, doe eyed ‘you’re so cool’ eyes, or the now ‘please I am tired don’t be too hard on me’ eyes, devoid of shine and only full of the brown color of her soul. Drowning in them was the only pathetic way he was willing to die

“I have better stuff to do other than talk with you, you know. As I said, I only sat here because there are no other tables available.”

“You can sit with all those fuckers down on the floor.” he stiffled in a yawn. “I don’t give a damn.”

She decided not to answer that and decided to focus on her books. Uraraka had decided to come to the library mostly because she was too tired to make her way to the dorms without getting some rest. Admittedly, she had expected to find the place empty so she could nap for a pair of minutes in a corner– her plan obviously backfired when the library ended up being full and she had no ther option but sit by Mr. FireHell Blondelocks.

As far as she was concerned, Bakugou’s dorm was being repaired due to some of his angry fits being thrown towards a wall, making his dorm look creepily open. That huge hole by his bed was all but tranquilizing. She should have known he would be in the library while his dorm was under repairations, because he couldn’t stand noise while studying and the crew taking care of his room would sure make too much of it.

Brief story: she was stuck with Bakugou until she finished her homework. And time was passing by way too slowly to her liking.

There was a moment when people started leaving the room. Stars twinkled outside the building and threw some shadows across the wooden floor, and lamps lit up the cozy place with a dim, orange light. Uraraka found this to be a bit too pleasant for her tired senses– there was a second in which her head fell a bit too down for Bakugou’s liking, who had been watching her silently as she started to doze off.

“Oi.” he nudged her rudely, and her head snapped up again. “Don’t go falling asleep on me.”

She started messing with her hair sheepishly, making Bakugou fidget uncomfortably in his seat. That antic of hers drove him insane: she was always doing it in front of everyone, in front of teachers, in front of fucking Deku. And he sometimes wondered what the fuck did that bastard have to make her so nervous when he couldn’t wake a single of her hairs up while being by far the most fearsome boy in their class.

“I’m sorry.” whispered she. He saw her grimace, keeping a yawn in– and it made him outwardly yawn, hand covering his mouth. “It’s been a rough day, today. I’ve been going from one place to another and I just couldn’t wait to crash the bed.”

And Bakugou understood the struggle. He was also fighting the exhaustion away, barely keeping it at bay and the fact that the staff had decided to royally mess with him by turning on the heat was not fucking helping. He had already removed his jacket and he was still a bit too warm to his liking. Knowing Uraraka and how sleepy she was, the fight must be tougher for her.

He shuffled a bit closer to her, feeling himself more tired than ever. “There’s not much people around.”

Her head rested on her palm now, looking at him with an interested gaze. “Mhm.”

“You can have your damn sleep, now.”

This– this startled her. He could have a heart, too? What was the world coming to that night? “Are you suggesting to keep watch on me… and actually let me have a little nap?”

“I am not gonna be your fucking babysitter.” spat he, crimsom eyes glaring at her despite the kindness within his flames. He eyed her unkempt hair and the dryness of her pretty stars, and her skin suddenly seemed paler than usual. “You look like a car ran over you. If you can’t take care of yourself I’ll have to show you how to fucking do it.”

He legit slammed her head against the wooden table, making a loud terrifying noise. Somebody could have mistaken that with a murdering attempt. Uraraka, however, laughed at his antics while watching the snowflakes drop before her. “I could use… some sleep.”

Bakugou almost didn’t catch what she said, as she was inmediately out of commision the moment her head crashed against the table. “Stupid woman.” mumbled he, taking a last glimpse at his diagrams and summaries while keeping an eye on her. Her hair was a mess, and he could tell it was bothering her.

Bakugou caressed her cheek with his fingertips and quickly brushed some strands away, the notion inmediately bringing him close to rage with this newfound feeling of intimacy. “Fuck this girl, fuck her!” he glared at her. “Fuck her in hell…”

But the way she was sleeping was kind of cute, too. Her head rested atop her hands, even breaths fanning some locks away and her face in peace for the first time in a while. He had never seen her so relaxed until now, and the image filled him with a sense of peace that he didn’t know he could feel until he stumbled with her.

His back was throbbing. He bet hers wasn’t right now.

She must be… comfortable, too.

Bakugou looked away and started cursing colorfully as he took his jacket from his spot on the chair’s back, and put it on top of her quiet body. The thought of her scent impregnating his clothes wouldn’t occur to him until midnight clocked by– and he would fall asleep thinking about her, too.

The blonde blushed, and all he could think about now was about how good a nap would be to him and how nice her warmth would be– he was half a meter away from her and he could already feel her whole self lulling him to sleep against his will.

That had to be illegal. His heart shouldn't be racing as hard as it was.

Eventually, Bakugou gave in and his head ended up on his arms too, both teens closer together than they had ever been– and Bakugou had taken her sweater as a paid back, he thought tiredly and without much logic, and draped it across his back. 

Uraraka shifted closer to him in her sleep, and he was only drawn to her scent. The sound of snowflakes melting against the windowpane made him remember that he hated libraries, but he would never hate this spot and he could forget about this hatred for a while as long as Uraraka was by him all the time, too.

She had had tons of space to sit at– floors and on top of shelves. But all tables had been full and, at the end of the day, he couldn’t find the heart to complain.

Aizawa eventually found both kids fast asleep on the table and sighed. “Man, kids these days. They grow up so fast.”