#but then i have other experiences that hurt me n made me cynical n have trust issues Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[lasunsettia]

para ti papá | miguel o'hara

miguel o'hara & g/n reader (platonic but there's love in everything amirite)

4.2k words

miguel hates wasting time. you hate seeing people pretend to act tough. miscommunication, trauma bonding, and a movie night(?) ensue.

this will be a two parter, so enjoy the first bit of (belated) father's day hurt/comfort... aka the hurt

also available on ao3

“hey! you took all the frosting!”

“you did smush the cupcake on my nose, cariño.”

swipe.

“dad, what’s a hickey? and why does uncle gabriel say you have to keep covering them up?”

“… i’ll tell you when you’re older.”

swipe.

“if spider-man can stay up past 10 pm, why can’t i?”

“mija, he’s way older and has a whole nueva york to defend. you still need me to tie your shoes. and you call pigeons street chickens.”

“okay i’m returning your father’s day gift.”

“wait what-”

swipe.

“i love you dad. even if you stink sometimes.”

“hey now, i don’t smell that bad.”

“you sure?”

“… pass. but… i love you too.”

finishing with loud giggles, the final video ends. silence gradually fills the room, the echoes of long-lost laughter fading out. the thrum of miguel’s workstation shifts into white noise.

a fragment of the life miguel had with his daughter, gabriella, lingers on the expanded screen in front of him. the gabi on the screen stays stuck in miguel’s lap, trapped by his arms as he leans down to tickle her. a mischievous grin flashes on that miguel’s face.

but as the screen and that reality flickers away, miguel shuts his eyes. he hangs his head low, letting out a deep sigh. jessica and peter and the others have asked him countless times why he keeps doing this. going over memories of a life that was never his to begin with.

over. and over. and over.

it’s equal parts selfish and self-denying. that world may not have been his. but he still mourns what bits of it he could experience. the joy. the love and safety he could provide. having a genuine reason to smile….

at the same time, he resents himself for the lives he’s destroyed. a whole dimension, gone. all because of his blind longing.

he’s lost too much, inflicted too much pain and destruction, to not remind himself of what he’s fighting for. what the whole spider society is trying to achieve.

“earth to miguel. reality check coming in.”

miguel glances to the side as lyla appears above him, glitching between sitting with her legs crossed and standing with her hands on her hips. he furrows his brow at her sly expression. the heels of his palms dig even deeper into the workstation desk.

“yeah yeah, i’m listening,” miguel exhales. he leans back, swiping away a lingering hologram screen and looking across the surveillance setup. “is there something i should be seeing or…?”

lyla reappears beside the screens. “well, there’s an anomaly on earth-2444. some goons from spider-man noir’s world got sucked up during a botched bank heist.” the surveillance screens flash images and video clips of said anomalies breaking into a banquet hall, holding some attendees hostage and engaging in a standoff with security and police. “made a dinner party a heck of a lot more interesting, buuut technically those people may still be in danger.”

miguel raises an eyebrow. “and noir’s not handling the case himself… why?” the cynical, black and white-dressed vigilante usually loved any excuse to hand troublemakers’ asses to them. especially those from his dimension. it seemed weird to miguel that noir wasn't eagerly rushing to save the day.

“he’s on an in-world crime bust.” lyla points to one of the screens. a brief montage of noir in a standoff flashes and quickly slows to a still photo.

“okay, then alert the local spider-man. this is a one, maybe two-person job. they can handle it and ask for someone on standby if need be.”

“they’re also busy.”

"well then we’ll send someone else.”

miguel grows more irritated by the moment. why is lyla making this more difficult than it has to be?

“there’s no one else to send, miguel.” the videos on the surveillance screens freeze, highlighting the ongoing dimensional deviation that needs addressing.

“en serio, lyla, you’re telling me there’s no one we can dispatch for this?”

“no, miguel.” lyla’s blunt, almost annoyed-sounding response claps back at miguel’s exasperation. she counts off on her fingers as she continues, growing to a human size in front of him. “everyone else we have is sick, on patrol, or on break for today.”

except you.

lyla doesn’t say it, but miguel can feel it in her tone.

he swallows a groan, resting his hands on his hips. it’s a simple job, really. take down a few anomalies. send them back home or toss them in a laser cage overnight. and then get back to trying not to burst a damn blood vessel over preserving the delicate balance of the multiverse.

still, there’s something that tugs him back a bit. makes his body more sore than usual, even though he took his last injection a few days ago. something calls for him to stay put. review the surveillance footage to see if there’s something bigger he can tackle.

or if there’s another video of gabi he can not so subtly revisit and ease his lingering emotional ache with.

“lyla….” miguel cringes a bit at how tired his voice sounds. “i–”

“hold up boss. i got some new info.”

lyla interrupts miguel with a status update. two of the surveillance screens depict a spider on the move, another screen flashing their background notes and mission statistics. “we got a familiar face on the way, but from the looks of things, they may need an assist…”

the meaning behind lyla’s words hits miguel almost immediately. that unmistakable get up and the record of their recent mistakes and mishaps catches his attention.

and so does a roster of the stupid nicknames this spider has referred to miguel by for the last year. lyla’s been keeping a secret record, apparently.

ese pinche pendejo.

the irritation radiates tenfold off miguel as he presses a button on the workstation, initiating its descent. he impatiently taps at his watch while the workstation takes its time. regardless of how shitty he feels today, he’s not going to let this dumbass screw up handling some small antagonists yet again.

“patch me through to them,” miguel demands. “now.”

lyla sighs, glitching to miguel’s shoulder in miniature form. “thought you might say that,” she deadpans.

miguel turns, jumping down the remaining distance between the platform and the floor. he can’t waste any time. he doesn’t want to.

he presses the big yellow dot representing earth-2444 on the watch interface. a burst of blue-hued rays illuminate the entryway to the room before forming the glowing, golden hexagonal portal entrance.

“well, they’re not answering but they know you’re on the way,” lyla reports, appearing next to the portal and giving a mini salute.

miguel mutters under his breath, summoning his mask over his head. taking a deep breath, he steps into the shimmering portal, ready to confront the nuisances awaiting him in earth-2444.

and to knock some damn sense into the idiot that hopefully doesn’t screw things up in the next few minutes.

—

“OW! FUCK ME!”

the baking sheet drops with a loud thud from your hand onto the tiny stove. red hot heat and pain flashes across your fingertips. cursing under your breath, you shake your gloved hand, blowing on it in hopes the pain will quickly subside.

whichever spider person gave you the tip for making your suit gloves heat resistant was a damn liar. they’d be hearing your angry complaints later. for now, you nudge the oven closed with your hip and peek over at the empanadas scattered on the baking sheet. the pastries don’t look half bad, gleaming a nice shade of brown. at the very least, the kitchen air smells absolutely heavenly. hints of savory spices, herbs, and the fillings… it's blissful.

hopefully they’re enough for miguel to forgive my ass, you wish internally. deception and some white lies aren’t exactly your favorite tactics to use. but when it comes to making headstrong leaders slash close-ish friends confront their suppressed emotional turmoil, you decide it’ll do the job.

it’s your way of offering that stoic tight ass some support. you’ve known miguel for a little over a year, and you two weren’t super close friends. sometimes he acted more like he wanted to punch you in the jaw than chat with you about your lives or an upcoming mission. but you ended up crossing paths more often than coworkers who tolerate each other generally do. and the way you both gradually got in the habit of calling each other first for an assist signaled some level of trust. even if you were the one to call on him a little more.

after jessica and peter, you were first in line for lyla to contact when miguel needed to strategize. or pull his head out of his ass. or, in rare moments, have someone to talk to and be a normal person. especially after a particularly rough day.

it was during the rare moments of guard-down vulnerability that you caught glimpses of the little things miguel o'hara usually kept under heavy wraps. like his love for homemade food. how he's somehow only seen a grand total of fifty something movies in his lifetime. and the soul-crushing inner turmoil he held onto on a day like father’s day.

which was today. and without a doubt, you knew miguel would try to act tough and soldier on like it was another boring sunday unless someone did something about it.

you double check that the oven’s turned off before moving to grab a cool drink from the fridge. a variety of sodas, teas, and water with brands parodying those of your world greet you. along with some other basic groceries. you make a mental note to thank the spider of earth-2444 for their generosity.

any other thoughts or drink selection is quickly interrupted by a rapidly growing thrumming sound. you notice too late that the sound isn’t coming from the oven or the refrigerator. a loud banging and crashing emerges from down the hallway.

shit… is that–?

the string of growls and curses in spanish coming from the bathroom answers your question. to your mental checklist, you add any toiletry replacements and bathroom repairs miguel might be wracking up.

“mierda, lyla, where the hell did you send me?”

the muffled yell springs you into action. blindly grabbing a pair of drinks from the fridge - one for you and miguel each - you attempt to cool off your hand while speeding over to the couch. the fridge shuts with a click as you sit down and swipe the remote off the tiny table in front of you. the tv’s loud chimes while turning on send your heartbeat shooting up even faster.

“shut up shut up shut up,” you command under your breath. this whole encounter is feeling less like revealing a surprise and more like awaiting your imminent chewing out on behalf of miguel o’hara. speaking of…

the bathroom door bangs open down the hall. an exasperated snarl spills out of miguel’s mouth, his heavy footsteps thudding against the tiny apartment’s hardwood floors. you nervously shuffle through the viewing options on the tv, finding just the one you had in mind and clicking it right before the footsteps slow.

miguel blinks behind his mask. disbelief fills him for a moment, quickly overshadowed by a cloud of anger. here he is, transported into some random, dimly lit apartment rather than the grand, glowing banquet hall currently under threat. he’d just ripped a tangle of shower curtains out of determination to get out sooner. all for the signs to continue to point to lyla having directed him to the wrong place.

or so he thinks. until he sees the very spider person he’d come to make sure wasn’t making the hostage situation worse. kicking back here. watching some fucking movie.

he calls out your name in a lowered, explanation-demanding voice. “what the hell is this?”

the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. it’s obvious from his tone that he’s beyond pissed. still, maybe a little charm can stun him.

you place the drinks on the table and turn towards miguel, resting an arm on the back of the couch. “it’s a movie night, mig,” you reply casually, nodding back towards the tv. “was waiting for you to show up.”

the eyes of miguel's mask narrow as he takes in the scene, his anger simmering beneath the surface. he had expected to find a high-stakes hostage situation. not a seemingly relaxed movie night in progress.

"we've got a serious situation on our hands, and you're here watching… whatever that is?"

you can practically breathe in the tension in the air. “it’s the godfather,” you start in defense, pulling yourself off the couch and slowly walking towards him. “and i already took care of it.” you mirror miguel’s signature hands on hips intimidation pose, stopping just a small distance in front of him.

“oh, really ?” his voice drips with bitter sarcasm. “you single-handedly saved the day while i was tearing shower curtains? without revealing your face to bystanders? or letting the anomalies almost slip into a whole other universe?”

he’s mocking you now. dragging your failures out to try to put you in your place. but little does he know those screw ups don’t phase you like they normally would.

they were intentional, after all. just bait to lure him in, right here, right now.

tugging your mask off, you meet miguel's gaze with unwavering confidence. "and i made it back here in less than 10 minutes,” you respond. “everyone’s got off days, gorgeous. but i really did handle it this time. you can trust me."

miguel scoffs. “you said the same thing about the prowler from earth-4269. then he broke out of his cage and almost tore a hole through your stomach.”

“ugh, don’t remind me,” you shudder. “hobie still hasn’t let me live that one down. or stopped trying to convince me to get a belly button piercing.”

the mix of skepticism and frustration in miguel’s stare doesn’t waver at your joke. instead, a moment of silence save for the tv in the background falls between the two of you.

“lyla.” miguel finally breaks the lull, turning his attention to the ai assistant appearing beside him. lyla offers a little wave, waiting for instructions. “show me what happened,” he demands.

“sure thing,” lyla chirps, immediately projecting a holographic display in front of miguel.

the room fills with a projected recap of your earlier crime-fighting events. your swift and agile movements as you expertly wrangled the anomalies. tossing and tugging them away from hitting, shooting, or otherwise harming the hostages. the attendees expressing their gratitude as you kicked the bad guys into a portal home.

and the unceremonious ending where security and the police chased after you and you swung back here to hide away and breathe. lyla had made sure to cut out all the surprise-related details. including the part where you almost fucked up the empanada recipe with a shit ton of sugar instead of salt.

“what’d i tell you?” you chime in, crossing your arms as the recap ends. ��had to make sure there were no distractions for ou- i mean my. my godfather watch party.”

the skepticism seems to have mostly faded from miguel’s masked expression, replaced by agitation. leaning to the side slightly, you release a web towards the kitchen. you grin as you successfully capture and pull back an empanada. “made some snacks too. wanna try one, sweeth– ah shit, it’s still hot.”

lyla chuckles while you juggle the empanada between your hands. miguel, on the other hand, remains unamused.

“if you already covered everything, why didn’t you report that back to lyla?” miguel questions.

you stiffen, gripping the slightly cooler empanada in between your gloves. “well, about that…" you start to say, easing him into your ulterior motives.

“and how didn’t you pick up on the fact that the coast was already clear, hmm?” miguel interjects. his sharp gaze shifts to lyla hovering above his shoulder. he senses that something isn't adding up, and his instincts are honing in on the bluff.

lyla shrugs. “even gorgeous ai assistants make mistakes sometimes,” she responds nonchalantly. “besides, spidey here didn’t pick up, so i was going off what information i had at the time.”

miguel lets out a dry laugh. mentirosos. los dos. his mask disappears to reveal his piercing red eyes fixed on you. his tongue darts out to lick a particularly sharp canine, intensifying his glare. his expression demands answers.

"so, screwing up missions wasn't good enough for you, was it?" he accuses, his arms crossed. "you just had to move on to wasting my time with non-existent ones."

you can't help but snort at the accusation. "maybe i just really like your attention and oh so friendly company," you remark mockingly, taking a deliberate bite of your empanada.

miguel's eyebrow quirks in confusion and ever-growing irritation. with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you continue, "or maybe, just maybe, i had something else planned the whole time."

the atmosphere in the room crackles with frustration and impatience as miguel’s eyes narrow. he tries to unravel the truth behind your actions. "wanna tell me?" his tone orders you more than asks.

you meet his intense stare head-on, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "well, miguel, let's just say i wanted to test how you handle unexpected situations. we need to be prepared for anything, right?"

miguel's eyebrows furrow. "wh- testing me?” he shakes his head, baffled by your audacity. “por dios, is this some kind of game to you?"

you take another bite of the empanada, relishing in the flavorful distraction. "kinda,” you answer casually. “and you weren’t gonna take some time off today anyway so… i had to take matters into my own hands."

miguel looks seconds away from either throwing you against the wall or ripping the empanada from your hands. well, at least it gives a sense of how he might respond to what comes next.

“lyla, you can do the thing now,” you say before finishing your snack.

before miguel can ask what thing you’re talking about, a whirring sound comes from his wrist. a series of flashes and glitches flicker across the watch face. his eyes widen in confusion at the display. “what…” he murmurs, tapping at the screen lightly to try to see what’s going on. but his touch only worsens the glitching. he grits his teeth, pressing the seemingly-malfunctioning watch in aggravation.

“don’t worry,” you interject calmly. your reassurance earns you a frustrated glare. “the thing’s not broken… it’s just on–”

“lockdown.” lyla’s voice interrupts from miguel’s and your watches simultaneously. the ai is out of sight and at limited capacity for now, according to your carefully-planned programming. “the affected watches are under multiverse jump restriction for three hours. operation 'reel healing' is underway. happy movie watching, cuties….”

both watches’ screens fade to black, only to be replaced by the word "lockdown" in red and a countdown timer starting to tick away the three hours.

peter and jessica had warned you miguel might not respond well to this. a forced but well-intended work break, meant to give him some time off from stressing over the multiverse…. and to maybe get him to stop beating himself up over his tragic inter-dimensional mistake for one night.

are you interfering with spider society work? sure. will miguel hate your guts for a while? no doubt about it. but you just wanted to be a good friend. and good friends don’t let their friends sulk in their dark lair alone on father’s day.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when miguel’s frustration finally erupts. without warning, miguel snatches you by the shoulders, claws tearing at your suit as he slams you against the wall. the impact against the wall jolts through your body, causing you to wince in pain.

"is this about the 'reel healing' nickname?" you try to joke through a winded gasp. "because peter and gwen were the ones who-"

miguel's grip on your shoulders tightens. all words clear from your mind, your survival mode subconsciously triggered. his voice is strained as he leans in close, shutting down your attempt to diffuse the situation.

"do you have any idea how this little stunt could backfire?" a clear concern lies in his words, but his rage at your actions seems a lot more obvious. his direct eye contact could burn holes into your head.

some regret gnaws at you, but your stubbornness wins out. “i'm pretty sure it won’t,” you retort. adrenaline courses through your veins.

miguel growls. his canines seem even sharper now that they’re right within bite-your-face-off distance. “we have a job to do–”

“and we’ll get back to it later,” you cut him off, trying not to groan at how miguel’s claws threaten to draw blood. “in case you haven’t noticed, we’re stuck here . we either gotta wait for something to happen or chill the fuck out. and even if hq has something come up, i got some people covering for us.”

the grip on your shoulders loosens ever so slightly. miguel’s glare demands answers.

“there’s a bypass,” you continue, “if things actually do go south. immediate contacts that will override the lockdown. but i got a roster of people on patrol and their backups.” gently placing your hands around miguel’s wrist, you finish. “and jess and peter are in charge while we’re gone. so maybe… lighten up a bit?”

for a brief moment, a quiet only broken by the movie in the background hangs heavy in the room. miguel releases his grip, shaking off your hold on his wrists and stepping back from the wall. his anger shifts to a mix of emotions.

inside his mind, miguel screams at you. lighten up, my ass. you dragged me out here for some… movie? intervention? god, what the fuck is this?

a glimmer of belief and hurt flickers in his still sharp gaze. he can barely look at you, staring anywhere but your face. regret starts to seep back into your thoughts. taking control from the control freak like this was beyond a bad idea. it was a violation of trust. regardless of how much progress you’d made with picking past miguel’s tough guy exterior, his open wounds were off limits.

miguel opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for the incoming insults and backlash. but for whatever reason, nothing comes out. miguel just shakes his head, muttering under his breath and pinching the bridge of his nose.

your hands fall limply to your side. slight fatigue aches in your muscles. today’s mission and orchestrating everything to make this little get together possible is taking its physical and mental toll.

looking towards the screen, you observe a wedding day scene playing out—a rare, relatively blood-free moment in the godfather. although you haven't watched the movie – at least, not recently – your intuition tells you that this is one of the few upbeat scenes. it seems like the perfect opportunity to sit down and immerse yourself in the movie.

from the corner of your eye, you notice that miguel's attention is also drawn to the tv, his expression still clouded with an emotional storm.

"you… wanna sit down?" you suggest cautiously. "enjoy some empanadas and ruthless mafia violence? maybe talk about our days…?"

miguel looks back at you, his frown deepening at the sight of your small, nervous smile. the unspoken turmoil within him seems to wrestle with the idea.

but he chooses to pull away. put up barriers. he lets out a heavy sigh before turning away from you, retracing his steps down the hallway he came from. the distance between you widens in more than just the physical sense.

fatigue weighs even heavier on your shoulders, both physically and emotionally. it squashes your desire to go after him, to admit you stepped way out of line. yet, deep down, you wish he would stay. just to make the apartment feel less stifling than it’s growing to be.

"mig… wait," you call out weakly, the ache in your chest and body mirroring the ache in your voice.

the sound of your voice hangs in the air. miguel ignores it, opening the bathroom door and quickly slipping inside. the door swings shut with a loud click. miguel seals himself away from you and any chance of immediate resolution.

a suffocating sense of disappointment settles over you. how could you have been so stupid?

with a heavy sigh, you make your way towards the couch. the sounds of the movie and the scent of empanadas fill the air, but they fail to mask the pain and loneliness that lingers.

miguel’s left you with the weight of your actions.

and according to your watch, you have two hours, fifty-six minutes, and thirteen seconds to review just how foolish and self-centered you were to think making miguel o'hara watch a movie with you would make his father’s day any less shitty.

[noxtivagus]

LAST FR

dfhaskdfjsdkf good day 😭

[adorethedistance]

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

*** 

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner 

[lostinfantasyworlds]

Words: ~4,200

Cw for some descriptions of the pain of childbirth.

Includes my drawing of Inuyasha and baby Moroha later on in the story! (I will also post separately).

Read on AO3

A/N at the end.

------------------------------

The first of the evening’s stars twinkled against a darkening sky above Kaede’s hut, where Kagome lay inside, deep in the throes of labor. The initial pangs of discomfort had begun shortly after daybreak that morning, the recent sunset marking thirteen hours since then. Now well into active labor, Kagome braced herself for yet another painful contraction. She groaned before clenching her jaw tightly shut, feeling the muscles within her lower abdomen begin to tense.

The fingers of her right hand were laced firmly through her husband’s, who sat diligently at her side. She squeezed Inuyasha’s hand with all her strength, grateful that she could do so without hurting him too much. 

Although it was not traditional for the father to be allowed in the birthing hut, a (reluctant) exception had been made for Inuyasha. Kagome recalled the earlier scene in an effort to distract herself from the building pain.

“Kaede!” Inuyasha called out as he burst through the entrance of Kaede’s hut, carrying Kagome in his arms. 

Kaede made a sound of annoyance as she finished making her tea, her back turned towards the couple. Her lack of surprise suggested that she had sensed the half-demon’s aura approaching. “What are ye making such a fuss about, Inuyasha?”

“Kaede, the baby’s coming!” Kagome said through labored breaths. Kaede finally turned around to see Kagome in Inuyasha’s arms, one hand on her swollen belly and her face screwed up in pain. Her face softened as she realized the reason for the sudden intrusion.

“Ah, yes. Good, good,” Kaede said calmly and set her tea down to begin preparing the futon for Kagome to lay on. 

She moved slowly in her old age, and after a few minutes when Kagome cried out again, Inuyasha growled and snapped, “Would ya move it along? Kagome needs somewhere to lay down right fucking now!”

Kaede shot him a one-eyed glare as she finished placing the last pillow. She gestured to the futon, indicating that it was ready for Kagome to lay down on.

Inuyasha lay Kagome down on the futon ever so gently, making sure she was as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. Once he was sure she was taken care of, he settled onto the floor himself, sitting cross-legged by her side.

“What do ye think you’re doing?” Kaede asked as she grabbed a clean birthing robe and water bucket from a storage chest in the corner. “Fathers are not allowed in the birthing hut, Inuyasha. It is time for ye to leave.”

Inuyasha cracked his knuckles in response, holding up his claws menacingly. “You gonna make me, old hag? There’s no way in hell I’m leaving Kagome right now!”

Kaede’s tolerance for Inuyasha’s rudeness was already running thin. “How dare ye threaten me in my own home! It is bad luck for the father to - “

She was cut off by Kagome, who had just finished breathing through her latest contraction. “Kaede, please, I want him to stay. I need him here with me.”

Kaede considered her request, ultimately deciding it would be less hassle for her to just allow the exception. She nodded slightly before turning away and sighing, preparing herself for a long night ahead with a stressed and overprotective Inuyasha.

Kagome looked up at Inuyasha, who smiled slightly, seemingly relieved that she wanted him to stay. She reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers. She returned his smile with a warm one of her own, before abruptly dropping it and replacing it with a glare.

“I want you here with me, but if you are rude to Kaede one more time, I will not hesitate to kick you out. Now apologize!” She gave him a look that made his ears flatten against his head. 

“Fine, whatever. Sorry, Kaede,” he grumbled almost inaudibly. Kagome rolled her eyes at his immaturity, but was still thankful that he would be by her side as they welcomed their child into the world.

Kagome was brought back to the present as her contraction peaked. Her muscles tensed impossibly harder, causing her to let out a cry of agony and squeeze her eyes shut. This was the worst and longest one so far. It was so intense that all rational thought was wiped from her mind as her vision went momentarily white. Unable to comprehend anything beyond her overwhelming desire for the pain to stop, she squeezed Inuyasha’s hand with a force that probably would have broken a regular human’s hand. 

She did her best to try and breathe deeply until her body mercifully began to grant her relief. Chest heaving and limbs shaking, she savored the brief respite, knowing that she didn’t have much time to prepare for the next contraction. They were only a minute or two apart now, and she instinctively knew that their baby was very close to making its arrival.

She felt the comforting coolness of a damp cloth dab the sweat from her forehead, and looked gratefully to her left where Sango knelt beside her. Sango gave her an empathetic, encouraging smile. She had happily volunteered to assist Kagome with the birth of her child, both as an excited aunt-to-be, and as part of her midwife training. 

Kaede’s strength continued to wane in her old age, and Rin had decided to spend some time traveling with Sesshomaru again to see if she still preferred that lifestyle over living with other humans. Not wanting to risk leaving the village without a midwife, Kaede had asked Sango and Kagome if they would be willing to undergo training so they could assist with births if the need arose. Although Sango was incredibly busy with her ever-growing family and occasional demon slaying whenever she got the chance, she jumped at the opportunity to give back to the village that she had made her home for the last seven years. As a mother of five children of her own, she had plenty of experience and advice to offer new moms.

Sango put a comforting hand on Kagome’s shoulder, remembering the excruciating pain of childbirth all too well. “You’re doing great, Kagome. Let me check on your progress.” She moved down between Kagome’s legs to determine how much farther she had to go. Kaede had taught her several methods of determining the baby’s position at any given point during labor. She hoped, for Kagome’s sake, that she was nearing the end.

“Good news, Kagome, you’re almost there! When the next contraction comes, you can start pushing,” Sango said, moving back to Kagome’s side down by her feet.

Kagome nodded slightly, closing her eyes and taking a few more deep breaths to try and prepare herself. Her heart was pounding, her hands were shaking, and a layer of sweat coated her entire body. She had never experienced so much pain, not from any of the injuries she had sustained during their countless battles. Even having the Shikon jewel torn out of her body was nothing compared to this. She had to keep fighting down waves of nausea as the contractions had become more and more agonizing.

She was already exhausted, already past her limit of pain tolerance, and the thought of pushing sent her into a panic. How much worse is this going to get? What if I can’t do this? What if the pain kills me? Maybe I wasn’t ready to be a mother! I’m not strong enough…

Terrifying cynical thoughts raced through her mind as her heart pounded against her ribcage, her breaths becoming more shallow.

“I’m scared,” she admitted quietly, to no one in particular. She kept her eyes closed, feeling weak and ashamed. She had been looking forward to being a mother for so long, so why was she suddenly so afraid? 

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. A few tears slipped out from under her shut eyelids and rolled down her flushed cheeks. She felt like she was on the brink of a complete breakdown.

“Yes you can. What you’re feeling right now is perfectly normal, Kagome,” Sango said soothingly. 

Kagome slowly opened her eyes at the sound of her friend’s voice.

 “Every mother feels the same way at this point, I promise. This last part isn’t going to be easy, but it doesn’t last too long, and then it will all be over and you’ll be holding your baby in your arms. When you look into their eyes for the first time, you’ll forget all about everything else, trust me.”

Kagome smiled down at her, thankful for the reassurance from someone who had been through this before. She then looked up to her husband who was still holding her hand and sitting cross-legged at her side. Her gaze was met with golden eyes full of concern.

Inuyasha was overwhelmed. There were so many sounds, so many smells, so many emotions. He had done his best to try and prepare himself for this day, but he had to admit that he was in over his head. It was killing him to see Kagome in so much agony, especially when there was nothing he could do about it. His instincts to protect her flooded through him with every cry of pain she let out, followed by the frustration of not being able to help. It was driving him crazy that all he could do was hold her hand and offer her words of encouragement every so often. 

He had kept relatively quiet since his earlier threat to Kaede, afraid of saying the wrong thing and upsetting Kagome. He was completely out of his element, having never witnessed a birth before. He had no idea what to do or say, or what was considered normal. All he knew was that he wanted to be by his wife’s side, and that she wanted him there as well. Now, as she looked into his eyes after voicing her fear, he knew he had to be strong for her. 

“You can do this, Kagome!” he said fervently. Hearing her say she didn’t think she could do it had made him want to scoff and call her an idiot, but he figured that wouldn’t be very helpful and might even earn him a ‘sit’ command in her current state. The idea of her not being able to do this was ludicrous to him. He had been watching her in awe all day, amazed by her strength and resilience. Since they first met, she had always been a fighter, never backing down or giving up when faced with a challenge. It was one of the many things he loved about her. 

He brought his free hand up to her cheek to gently wipe some of her tears and sweat away, letting his fingers linger on her face for a moment. 

“You’re so strong, you always have been,” he said, bringing his hand back down to grip hers between both of his own. He stared deeply into her wide brown eyes, trying to wordlessly communicate the neverending love and respect he had for her. “And I’m right here beside you.”

Kagome could feel her panic melting away at his words and the look in his eyes. She smiled a little at him before looking forward with a newly determined look on her face. That’s right, Inuyasha is with me. I can do anything with him by my side.

She felt the pain building again, but it was different from before. Somehow sharper and duller at the same time. She knew this was the final stretch she had to get through to meet their little one, so she gathered all the strength and courage she had left. 

The pain of pushing was almost unbearable, but she did her best to remain focused on the steady pressure of Inuyasha’s hand and the guidance given by Kaede and Sango. She felt every sensation in her body, her instincts kicking in to guide her through the final stage of delivery.

Over forty excruciating minutes later, a cry finally rang through the cabin, alerting all those in the area to the arrival of a new life. Kagome breathed a huge sigh of relief and fell back against the pillows. Kaede caught the crying baby and carried it over to the water basin to be bathed. Sango cut the cord and helped clean Kagome up enough so that she could comfortably lay her legs flat again. 

Kagome lay exhausted, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. The cries of her baby echoed through the cabin, filling her with a euphoric pride. She had loved their child from the moment she knew of their existence. It felt like so long ago that she first found out she was pregnant. She could still remember the rush of pure joy she felt at the news. Finally, after so much wondering and planning and waiting, she was about to meet the one she already adored more than anything in the world. 

After giving her a few moments to catch her breath, Inuyasha helped support Kagome as Sango stuffed a couple pillows under her back so that she could sit up more. Once she was sure of Kagome’s comfort, Sango got to her feet and said, “I’m going to give you some privacy. You did so well Kagome.” She smiled warmly down at her friend, and then shifted her gaze to Inuyasha. “I couldn’t be happier for the two of you.” Both returned her smile, and Kagome reached out to take Sango’s hand.

“Thank you so much for everything, Sango. It really helped to have you here.”

Sango squeezed her hand. “Anything for my dearest friend. We’ll all come visit in the morning once you’ve had some time to rest.” She released Kagome’s hand and walked out of the hut to give a full report to Miroku and Shippo, who were waiting at home with her own children. 

As Sango walked out of the entryway, Kagome lifted her head up to anxiously look around for her baby, who was no longer crying. Her eyes found Kaede, who was wrapping the newborn loosely in a blanket. Her heart fluttered with nervous anticipation as Kaede slowly made her way over to her and Inuyasha, carrying their new addition in her arms.

“Congratulations Kagome and Inuyasha, it is time to meet your daughter,” she said with a smile. 

At the word ‘daughter,’ Inuyasha and Kagome’s eyes met, both of their mouths dropping open slightly. Their daughter. 

Kaede handed the tiny bundle off to Kagome, who reached out instinctively. As soon as the child was securely in Kagome’s arms, Kaede made her way outside to let them have their first moments as a family in private. 

A peaceful silence settled over the hut as Kagome held their baby close to her chest and stared in awe. Inuyasha moved closer to her, draping an arm over her shoulders. Kagome was overcome with emotion, an overwhelming feeling of love and warmth taking over every ounce of her being. She was still exhausted and in pain, and somewhere in her brain there was a terrifying, nagging reminder that she was now responsible for protecting this tiny being, but it all felt like dull background noise compared to the warmth that emanated from her chest as she marveled in the presence of her daughter.

“Inuyasha...she’s....” she trailed off quietly, unable to quite find the words. 

“...Perfect.” Inuyasha finished for her in a dazed tone. He couldn’t stop staring at the face of the life they had created. He had pictured the arrival of their baby many times in the months since they found out they were expecting, but he could never have imagined what he was feeling now. It was surreal and overwhelming to finally come face-to-face with the child who had only been an abstract concept in his mind until a few minutes ago.

He had struggled with the idea of becoming a father. Despite his excitement to start a family with the person he loved most in this world, he had trouble imagining himself in that role. Questions such as What if I ruin our kid’s life? What if something happens to them? Or to Kagome? How am I supposed to know what to do with a baby? had kept him awake countless nights over the last several months. Not to mention how much time he had spent worrying over Kagome. He’d had a hard time leaving her alone for more than five minutes during her entire pregnancy, constantly afraid that something could happen to her or the baby.

It was the worst on his human nights, the negative thoughts hijacking his mind and taking hold until he could think of little else. What if something attacks us when I’m in my human form and I can’t protect them? What if I’m not a good enough father and Kagome resents me? What if our kid grows up facing the same kind of discrimination I did for being part demon and part human? The questions became impossible to ignore on those nights, a couple times bubbling up to the point where his heart raced and his breath became shallow. He usually tried his best to hide his fears from Kagome, not wanting to cause her any extra stress, but those few times, it was too hard to pretend nothing was wrong. 

Kagome would try to comfort him. She would whisper reassurances into his ears. That she loved him and believed in him. That their child would be well cared for no matter what. That he would be an amazing father. She would look at him with such love and trust and warmth that he was almost able to believe that he was the person she saw him as. But it was hard to forget a lifetime of being told he was worthless, an abomination. It was hard to forget all of the awful things he had said and done in his past. How could he ever be a role model to a child? What if he had doomed them to the same lonely life of an outcast that he had?

Witnessing Kagome’s excitement to be a mother was the only thing that kept him from drowning in his anxiety. Although he didn’t know if he was cut out to be a father, he was positive that Kagome was meant to be a mother. She had always been the caring and nurturing type, and the joy she had to finally fill the role of a mother had radiated from her throughout her entire pregnancy. 

Whenever Inuyasha felt overwhelmed with doubts, he would just watch his wife tenderly rest her hands on her rounded belly, or listen to her hum lullabies to their unborn baby. In those moments, he knew that at least their child would have Kagome as their mother, and that even if he fell short, she would always be there to provide them with the care and support they needed. He vowed to match her as best as he could, all the while feeling terrified of letting her down.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that Kagome was looking at him. She seemed to sense his inner turmoil and asked, “Do you want to hold her?” with a sweet smile.

“Uh..” Inuyasha responded stupidly, but Kagome had already extended their child towards him. 

“Just remember to support her head and you’ll be fine.”

Inuyasha took the tiny bundle ever so carefully, as if she might shatter into a thousand pieces at his touch. He slowly adjusted her position so that her head rested in the crook of his elbow and she was fully supported by his arm. He stared at her for a long minute, still unable to make sense of everything he was feeling. How could he have helped create such an incredible little human? How could he ever be a good enough father to her? She was so tiny and fragile, what if he hurt her by accident? Protecting Kagome was already stressful, but at least he knew she could handle herself in a battle. How in the world was he supposed to protect someone so small defenseless? He tried not to think about all the dangers of the world around them.

To distract from his racing thoughts, he focused on cataloging everything about her. The little tuft of jet black hair on the top of her head, her barely open chocolate brown eyes that looked so like Kagome’s, her tiny nose and mouth. Although she hadn’t inherited his eye or hair color, or his dog ears, the shape of her features still resembled his own. She was truly a perfect blend of the two of them. He inhaled and memorized her scent. It was similar to Kagome’s, with hints of his own scent, but distinct in its own way. 

Inuyasha cautiously extended one finger from his free hand to gently stroke her cheek, being mindful of his claws. Her skin was softer than the finest silk. He had never felt anything quite like it. He moved to pull away, feeling unworthy to touch her with his rough, calloused hands. At the same time, a chubby fist escaped the confines of the blanket surrounding it and waved blindly through the air. Tiny fingers found his retreating hand, and instinctively wrapped around his outstretched pointer finger. 

With a sharp intake of breath Inuyasha froze, suddenly hit with a surge of emotion so strong he could hardly breathe. His daughter gurgled and looked up at him, gripping his finger with surprising strength for a newborn. A soothing warmth began to spread from the point of contact throughout his whole body, almost reminding him of the sensation of being purified by Kagome’s spiritual powers. But this was something else, something deeper and more profound. 

Something shifted deep within himself as he felt her tiny fingers grip his own. Every priority, every feeling, every want and need he had ever had was rearranging, placing his daughter at the center of it all. The moment that she had touched him, he was forever changed. His rough edges softened just a bit, his heart grew a little larger. The world and his place in it made a little more sense. All of the doubts and insecurities he had about being a father faded to the background. He knew now that he would do absolutely anything for the little girl in his arms. 

A type of love he never knew existed rushed through him, seeping into every last crevice of his soul. It was all-consuming and indescribable. He felt as if he was staring into the sun itself, her radiant light giving him warmth and life in ways he hadn’t known he needed. All of the pain he had gone through in his life now felt worth it to be able to experience this moment. He would do it a thousand times over again as long as he got to meet her. He had known for a long time that he was born to be with Kagome, but now he knew he was born to meet his daughter as well. 

He let out the smallest of laughs, breathy and awestruck. After several more moments, he finally managed to tear his eyes away from her to look up at Kagome, who had been watching the heartwarming scene unfold. His mouth still hung agape, and as his eyes met Kagome’s, he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. The sensation surprised him, having never shed tears of joy before.  He hadn’t even noticed the wetness building in his eyes. As he looked at his wife, he noticed that tears were silently falling down her cheeks as well, though she wore a beaming smile. 

The familiar sight of Kagome’s smile made his heart swell with even more warmth. It hardly felt real that, after all the heartache and loneliness that he had endured in his life, he was here looking into the eyes of his wife and holding his daughter in his arms. He wanted to tell her how much he loves her, how thankful he was to be able to share this moment with her. He wished he had the words to explain what it meant to him to have a family of his own.

“Kagome...” he said quietly, trying to think of something else to say. How could he ever put into words everything he had just felt?

“Inuyasha,” Kagome responded warmly in a way that told him no words were needed. They had always had a quiet understanding between them, their love for each other much deeper than words could ever hope to describe. It was something he was eternally grateful for. With a smile, Kagome reached out to cover her husband and daughter’s joined hands with her own.

Her eyes drifted back down to their beloved child, and after a few moments of contemplation she asked, “Moroha?”

Inuyasha wasn’t sure where she got the name, but it didn’t matter to him. It fit her perfectly.

“Moroha,” he repeated, confirming her name.

Inuyasha rested his forehead against Kagome’s as they continued to gaze down at their daughter. He knew his fears hadn’t disappeared completely, but there would be time to worry later. For now, he simply let himself bask in the glowing happiness of this perfect moment with his family.

----------------------

A/N (sorry it’s so long)

Hope you enjoyed the feels! I’ve been working on this for a while now, so I’m really excited to finally post it! I had originally wanted to post it before the premiere of Yashahime, but I kept nitpicking and editing it over and over. Plus I decided to add the drawing which took me forever. I also went all out and made the banner and everything, which I’m not sure if people usually do for oneshots but oh well!

This all started with me imagining that one moment of a newborn Moroha grabbing Inuyasha’s finger, and that being the moment that moved him and changed him forever. I could see him being really nervous and unsure about becoming a father, but I liked the idea of her touch causing a shift in him and basically turning him into a puddle of mush. I hope it isn’t too OOC for Inuyasha to cry at this moment, but I thought if anything would have the power to make him shed tears of joy then this would be it. Plus I saw it as kind of an involuntary bodily reaction to all of the emotion he experienced.

I tried to throw in some of Kagome’s POV, but I mostly wanted to explore Inuyasha’s conflicted thoughts and feelings about becoming a father. I hope the descriptions of pain/birth weren’t too much. I have never gone through childbirth, but it sounds ridiculously painful and terrifying so I was probably projecting a bit haha. Kagome is a badass for dealing with all of that with no drugs! 

I tried to look up real stories of how people felt when they saw their baby for the first time. There were a lot of mixed reactions, with a lot of people saying they just felt really scared or didn’t have a strong emotional reaction. This is a fic so of course I wanted it to be emotional and happy, but I tried to mix in some of the fear they must have felt also.

I didn’t want it to seem like Kagome’s strength only came from Inuyasha being there with her, but from what I read about active labor, the pain at that point can be extremely mentally and physically taxing, so I wanted her to have a moment of weakness where she felt like she wasn’t strong enough. And I always loved that Kagome and Inuyasha draw strength from each other in different ways. So I felt like she would have been able to tap into that from having him by her side.

Also, in regards to Sango and Miroku having 5 children, I find it hard to believe that they would have stopped at 3 considering how much Miroku talked about wanting to have 10 + kids lol. So that was just a little canon divergence I threw in there. This takes place about 4 years after Kagome returns to the feudal era for good. 

Anyways, I could ramble forever and over explain everything as I tend to do, but I wanted to get this out there before we see baby Moroha in Yashahime this week. I’m so excited!

[blessednereid]

Love and Monopoly

 Love and Monopoly

Milton Greasley x Reader, 

Fandom: TVDU/Legacies 

Dialogue Prompts: “Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!” and "You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

Fun Take on Angsty Prompts

Warning: Cursing, Drinking, Kissing, Necking, Mentions of food, brief mentions of blood (bunny blood for vamps), Monopoly

A/N: Someone please open my messages and give me a crash course on how to write a makeout scene I can’t do it, OMFH ಥ‿ಥ

Word Count: 2760

You and Milton Greasley had been dating for 5 years. 

You met during your shared time together at Salvatore Boarding School. You were a witch who helped MG calm down whenever he went into a ripper mode. You had used spells to lower his bloodlust. You even made the bunny blood that the school had fed vampires taste as close to human blood as you could without triggering a negative response. 

 After you all graduated, The Super Squad all rented a house in Mystic Falls, and you were all roommates. The house had 5 bedrooms, one for you and MG, one for Lizzie, one for Josie, one for Hope, and one for Kaleb. However, since Josie and Hope began dating, they had moved into the tribrid's room, so now the empty space was more of a game room. There were board games and consoles in the closet, a pool table, and a regular round glass table surrounded by armchairs where you all could sit and play games. 

Tonight was your bi-weekly game night, and you all had decided to play monopoly. Though it was a unanimous decision, you knew it could take days to finish. You were all very competitive, and none of you would go down without a fight. This is why, to finish faster, you decided to have a team game of monopoly.

On the day of, everyone had started going shopping for the concessions for the event. Trays of assorted cookies, hors-doeuvres, sandwich platters, as well as multiple different fruit juices were bought and set on a foldable table in the game room. 

As you were setting and arranging everything on the table, your wonderful boyfriend came around to help you. 

"Don't worry, love, I got it," you chuckled. "I am much capable of setting a party table on my own."

"C'mon, you make me feel like I'm not good enough to do simple things, babe," he laughed with you, though his words triggered something in your brain.

"Oh yeah?" you quipped. "These are some pictures from the last time you set the table for dinner…"

In the photo, the table linen was frowned up, the forks were out of place, some placements didn't even have certain utensils. The plates were pushed to the center, chairs closer to the edge than the food was.

"Oh..." he giggled lifelessly.

"Now you see why you don't use super speed to set up something like that?"

"I mean, I don't think it's the super speed, darling. I was simply being blinded by your beauty that day."

 Your laugh thundered in the room. "Go away MG, I'm not letting you win today!"

"Aw dammit! Alright, love, I'll let you get back to your project," he stated before he walked out of the room.

--Meanwhile--

"Jo?"

"Yeah, Hope?"

The Saltzman twin had been brushing her hair in the mirror, getting ready for the game night later.

"You look gorgeous, so stop taking out every strand of your hair with this damn brush," Hope stated before yanking the brush out of the younger girls' hand. 

Josie embraced Hope in a warm hug. "Thanks, Hope."

~-~-~

"Alright, everyone. Welcome to 'The Super Squad Bi-Weekly Game Night.' I'm your host, Y/N L/N, and you're watching Disney Channel." All of the friends burst out laughing. "Tough crowd, I see I see. Well, let's move on with the game, shall we?"

"First up introducing, He's the founder, he's the mediator, He is… MILTON GREASLEY!!"

They all clapped and cheered for MG before you moved on.

"Next up, She's the brain, she's the brawn. She is the tribrid, and she's got it going on, Hope Mikaelson!!"

Whoops and cheers echoed throughout the room. 

You continued through all of your friends.

"The realistic, the cynic, the man with raps for days… Kaleb Hawkins!!"

"The sweet, the kind, but she can fuck up your mind, Josie Salvatore!!" 

"She's sarcastic, totally bombastic, Lizzie Saltzman everybody!!"

"And ME! Could you tell I was trying to sound like those game show hosts everybody? No? Well, I was. Anyways young ones-" You wore a giant grin to emphasize the corniness of what you were saying before continuing.

"Alright, I'm dropping the act. It's too hard, jeez!" They all laughed at your antics. "I hope you guys are laughing with me and not at me."

You explained the rules for the game of teams.

“Here’s the way it goes, each player has the same amount of money they would have in a regular game of monopoly. However, every team only has one token, teams must make agreements on all purchases, trades, and decisions. Teams must take turns rolling the dice, and one team member must always be present at the board.” 

“Alright.”

“Sounds easy”

“Let’s play!”

You stared at them dumbfounded. “I memorized and recited all that without stumbling on my words, and all I get is ‘sounds easy’?”

MG stood to comfort you. 

“It’s alright, love,” he said, rubbing your shoulders lightly before pulling away. You scoffed.

“Alright then, let’s play. In this hat, I have slips of paper with all of your names, but first, in this bucket are sticks with numbers that will determine the order of selection. Step forward.”

They all stepped forward and grasped the popsicle sticks prior to stepping away from the bucket. 

"Who has number 1?"

"Oh, I do!" Lizzie stepped forward and drew a slip of paper from the hat.

"Kaleb"

She and Kaleb sat back down at the table. 

"Number 2?" 

Hope stepped forward. 

"MG"

They also went to go sit down beside Lizzie and Kaleb.

"That leaves me and you, Jo," you stated happily. Jo and yourself had one of the best team duos. In school, you two would be partnered up for projects often. With that experience of communication, you were sure to win. 

You joined the rest of your friends at the table. Lizzie and Kaleb named their team, Team Siphon Vamp. Hope and MG had been Team 3 in 2, and you and Josie were the 'Twitches from two different misuses.' 

"Alright, before the token selection, I must announce the prize of the game.

"The winners of the game will receive a dish duty pass for the rest of the week." Cheers louder than before erupted in the room.

"Lettuce commence!" The silence in the room was lethally quiet, and you could quite literally hear crickets. "Get it? Because lettuce sounds like let us?"

"It's ok, babe, let's just play," MG said before pulling you down. You grumped before deciding with Josie on the Penguin. Hope and MG had picked the dog, and Lizzie and Kaleb had chosen the dinosaur. 

You, acting as the banker, dished out the money to all the players, and you commenced the game. 

Lizzie and Kaleb went first. Lizzie rolled the dice, rolled 7, and landed on a chance card, which told her to advance to the nearest railroad, and they bought it. Hope and MG went next.

MG rolled a 5 and landed directly on Team Siphon Vamp's freshly purchased railroad, M100 out of their pocket already.

"Ooooh… MG…. Honey, you're losing money faster than you did when that PS5 came out, babe."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, ok! I'm still gonna kick your ass!"

You were taunting him. "You sure about that, love?"

"Yep!"

"You didn't even try to "kick my ass" last night, darling," you smirked.

Oohs erupted from your friends, and it was evident you knocked his ego down a peg.

At last, it was your team's turn. You and Josie each took one die in your hands and rolled it. You had landed a 6 and a 4, which landed you a visit to jail.

"Look who's losing now! You're literally in jail, babe," Hope teased Josie. 

"Oh, whatever. Focus more on your lives-"

"-And less on ours!" your duo quipped. 

Lizzie protested to this. "Hey hey hey!! That is my twin! Only I get to finish her sentences!"

You all laughed at this but continued your game.

Almost 15 rounds later, and everyone had a fair standing in the game. 

Team Siphon Vamp had had 2 monopolies, on the railroads and on the pink properties. 

Hope and MG had 3 already, the dark blue properties, the brown, and utilities. They also had 2 greens cards, the other being in the hands of you and Josie, as well as 1 red card that was being aimed for by you and Josie, who had the other 2 properties. 

You guys also had monopolies on the yellow and orange properties. If you got the red card of Kentucky Avenue, you would be unstoppable. 

 "Baby," you called out. 

"Yes, love?"

"I'll give you the other green for the red," you and Josie smiled.

"That's not fair babe, you'll own the corner," he protested.

"But the green is worth more. Please?" you pleaded, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Before he could utter another word, Josie spoke. 

"We'll give you M100, and your first landing on any one of our properties will be free of rent."

Hope spoke up. "Sounds good to me!"

"Hell no! You're gonna have to do something way better than that before you fool this genius."

You whined.

"Fine, I'll give you one of my signatures back walks," you leveraged, knowing full well he couldn't resist. "C'mon, baby, I know how much your back has been hurting."

He agreed reluctantly. "Fine, but it better be worth it!"

Team Twitches cheered. 

"Wait, what about us! We'll be demolished, you selfish weirdos." This was true. Lizzie and Kaleb were low on cash, they had rushed too fast to place houses, and now they were paying the price.

"Tough luck!" Hope and Josie chorused.

 Soon, it had been as you all thought.  Kaleb and Lizzie were in debt to Hope and MG. They had landed on Boardwalk Avenue, and it had 3 hotels on it, so they owed them M6000, M6000 they did not have.

Soon, they ended up relinquishing all their properties back to the bank for auction to pay off Hope and MG, gave them the rest of their money, and had to leave the game.

 With 2 full monopolies from Lizzie and Kaleb, along with the last green property they needed, they had successfully turned the game around. Now it was Josie and you who were losing. 

You all decided at this point to split the teams. Each team dividing both the cash and the monopolies equally, and two more pieces were added to the board, on the same spots as their former teammates, and you resumed.

Josie was soon knocked out due to MG within 5 rounds, and Hope was quick to crumble under your might, two turn-loops after that. They joined Lizzie and Kaleb at the pool table. They were now drinking beers since they no longer needed to be sober.

Soon it was just you and MG left in the game. 

MG leaned forward closer to you while you were deciding what to do with your turn.

"You know what you could do, darling?" He whispered provocatively in your ear. "Give in."

You pushed him away. You were not going to lose to MG and his self-righteous ego that night. 

"Shut up."

"Give in, baby. I know you want to."

"Shut up, Milton."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!" He yelled. "No need to get hostile!"

You decided you hadn't wanted to place any more houses, well, you couldn't at the moment. You rolled the dice but were in for a bitter-sweet realization.

You had been ready to pay an M100 luxury tax fee before you realized you landed on Boardwalk, one of the monopolies Hope had let MG keep in the split. MG had only since put 2 more hotels on it, and the price was now M10,000

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!"

Soon, your friends rushed over to where you two sat and began cackling, all except Josie, who was still hoping her former teammate would avenge her.

"Babe.."

You began selling your hotels and houses back to the bank, but it still wasn't enough. You sold your properties and gave the rest of your money to MG, but you still owed a few hundred Monopoly dollars. 

"Fuck!"

 He kissed your cheek, much to your dismay, and happily accepted his victory. 

~-~-~

It had been almost 2 weeks, and you were still giving MG the silent treatment. He had been gloating about his win for the entire night, and you were livid.

You knew he didn't deserve it, but you didn't think you deserved to lose either. 

You were staring at the ceiling. You had just woken up, and MG wasn't beside you. 

You had hated those moments. No matter how mad you were at MG,  you hated when you woke up, and he wasn't beside you. 

After all, you guys had been through so much, and you were always worried that he would die abruptly and leave you. Even after the threat was over, you still felt this way.

After a few minutes, MG had come into the room, Kaleb at his side. Kaleb looked bored, and his face said all you needed to know... he didn't want to be there. 

He was carrying a pot of pink hydrangeas in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. He placed both on the nightstand beside you, disappearing for a short while, before coming back with a giant fruit bouquet in his hands. He set it on the nightstand as well before exiting the room and closing the door.

MG had carried a platter of all your favorite foods. Eggs, just the way you liked them, pancakes, hash browns, and your favorite flavor of yogurt. He had also gone ahead and made a smoothie bowl with your favorite fruits. Berries and banana chips littered the surface of it. 

He placed the platter on the portable desk you had in your room for breakfast and bed and set it down, just above your lap. He then went to the mini-fridge in your room and got all the ingredients he needed to make your coffee just the way you liked it as well as a glass to pour it in.

"I'm sorry for bragging," he apologized. "I know how much you like to win, and it was very insensitive of me." He looked like he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the reason he was apologizing for was. You turned your eyes away from him and the delicious breakfast he made.

"But baby, I miss you."

He walked over to you. "Please talk to me!"

He started trailing kisses on your forehead, down to your neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth inside, something you had taught him. He knew exactly how to make you forgive him, and he was using every technique he had learned over the years.

"Please?" He whined, and you could see his pouty eyes without looking. 

He sucked on your collarbone for a while and left a dark mark. Then he moved to the sensitive spot under your ear. 

You moaned slightly, but he could hear it, even without his vampire hearing.��

He pulled away, causing you to frown and whine. 

"MG…" you complained. "That's not fair."

"So you're talking to me now?"

You looked away, you had slipped up, but you told yourself that would be the last time.

You simply ignored him and started to eat your breakfast.

He walked back towards you and began nibbling on your ear.  You threw your head back in pleasure. 

"Look at me, darling." 

He reached his nimble fingers out to your face and trapped your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I said I'm sorry, and I really, really miss my girlfriend. I made you a nice breakfast, and I've let you pick the movie every night since monopoly. What more do you want?"

You moved the tray of food to the side of you and stared at him indignantly. 

"I wanted my boyfriend to not be an egotistical asshole. I thought I was dating MG the vampire, not Jed the werewolf."

"I'm sorry... What can I do to make it up to you, love?"

"Let me out of that back walk favor?"

He scrunched up his face in horror. "That was part of our deal."

"Technically, you're not even supposed to be able to make outside game deals in monopoly, so you could let me out if you wanted to."

"Fine." 

"Yay! Those hurt. They're so energy draining."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, you can," you smiled.

[michyreadsthenwrites]

Plain Bad Heroines - Let Me Give You My Thoughts On This (Character Analysis)

**major maaaaajor spoilers ahead**

(Here we begin with the handful of characters from Danforth’s sophomore novel that have found their way into my heart and apparently, this Word document. It didn’t hurt that they were all women that love women. And I mean, they really loved women.)

 ·   Merritt Emmons is easily my favorite character. She’s got that dry, sarcastic humor and air around her that makes it really easy to love her and hate her guts all at the same time. (If she were here, she’d tell us that this was a talent, not a flaw.) I felt personally affronted when characters in PBH didn’t like Merritt, like they were overlooking the diamond in the rough right in front of their faces. Then, like most things, it became pretty clear: Merritt Emmons could be one hell of a bitch at times. But it really only made me love her more. I realized that I identified with her. Yes, about being a queer woman that really fucking loves other women, but also because she was a writer that wanted her writing to stay true to how she wrote it, especially with so many people traipsing all over it and trying to make it into something it’s not. That was where I realized I loved her early on; when she pitched a genuine fit over who was to play Clara Broward. It was something so petty and childish, something so very me to throw a fit in a packed room of professionals when you have no idea about that kind of world and what it demands. But she fought for what she believed in, alright. Until she didn’t. This made me love her some more, incidentally. We got to see Merritt’s character development throughout the novel, and more specifically, we got to watch her bounce back and forth between the person she was too scared to be but wanted more than she could ever admit, and the person she spent twenty long years being; the person she was oh-so-tired of introducing to people. This constant shift between new-Merritt and old, crabby, prickly-Merritt was a very raw and vulnerable thing for us to experience as an audience. Merritt was certainly a lot more refreshing than every one of the overdone-Hollywood-types we became acquainted with within the book. She was mean and arrogant and wildly insecure, yet somehow confident and sure of herself, when it came to her work or her knowledge or anything that had to do with any book written, ever. A walking paradox, that one. Merritt was a good way to remember that real people, not built-and-put-together-by-Hollywood-people don’t always have their shit together, and they can’t always get it together by the end of a novel, albeit a long, six-hundred-page one. I think I’ll cut myself off here, friends. Not that I want to, but I feel we have a lot to get to in these pages, and Merritt Emmons can’t be the star of all of them (lord knows I’d let her, though). To sum it up: Merritt Emmons was the star of this book, for me at least. And I hope for you too. (This means go get your ass over to your closest B&N and buy the damn thing).

  ·   Harper Harper is somewhat of a mystery to me. She was a major character in the story, as well as one of our three protagonists, our three heroines, and yet I have trouble finding her as authentic and outlandish as she tries to come across. What I’m still having trouble deciphering is if this is an intentional character flaw created by our Miss Danforth, or if Harper Harper really has nothing to her besides being completely reinvented and marketed by Hollywood. Even in saying this, I know I have to give Harper credit where it’s due. She’s a proud queer woman in the movie industry, as well as openly queer online and really with just anyone and everyone she meets. She’s known for various flings and love-interests of the week, which is still a gross misrepresentation and stereotype of (masc?) lesbians and how they’re emotionally unavailable and unfaithful, which again is a possibility of the author’s intentional writing, something that we can leave for further discussion. We do get a bit of a glimpse into Harper’s life – her real-life – about how her mother is struggling with her sobriety, how her little brother seems to be caught in the middle of her mother’s messy relationships, and how she really has mixed feelings about how she fits into her new movie-star life. That’s about all we get from Harper, though. And it really is almost enough realness to take away from the fact that everyone else in the world sees Harper as the face of Hollywood, as this thing of beauty and money and badassery instead of a real person. But still not enough. And I could be wrong, friends. I could be pulling all of this out of my ass because Harper Harper is a badass queer woman that took over the movie industry with barely any experience under her belt. Harper Harper took every room she walked into by storm, and she made everybody pay attention to her, and she became the character we had a little crush on, simply because she was that big of a deal. But nothing of substance, not really. Not ever. But perhaps she had been her most real self with Merritt Emmons, in between the quiet pages that we didn’t get to read entirely. Merritt, our dry and arrogant and favorite heroine, had been Harper’s favorite, too. The most credit that I find myself giving Harper is her aid in Merritt’s character development. She brought Merritt out of her shell in a massive way, though at times she did have a hand in driving her back into the said shell. It was flawed, their relationship, which is another authentic Harper Harper insight we saw, as little of it there was. They were hot and cold, on and off, but always so enthralled with each other. And while Harper seemed to have had an impact on Merritt (among other factors), it doesn’t seem like Merritt had the same effect on Harper. I could be wrong and do feel free to correct me, friends, but Harper Harper did not come out the other end of PBH a changed woman. She was not burdened with the weight of a life-changing revelation. She was Harper Harper, as she always was, floating and untouchable, the kind of woman you wished to know, maybe to be, but also the kind you see right through. They’re transparent, friends, that’s what I’m trying to get at here. And they tend to stay that way. And I realize as I’m nearing the end of this, that I sound harsh in my critiques and analysis of Harper. I don’t mean to come off that way, friends, I really don’t. The truth is I love Harper, she’s everything we wish we could be. She’s gorgeous and sought after, can land any girl she wants with the bat of her eyelashes and a lazy smile. But you have to remember, she’s everything we’re not. I can only speak for myself, friends, and I encourage you to speak for yourselves if you find you have anything to add. I never related with Harper the way I did with Merritt’s character, but that doesn’t mean that Harper isn’t a beautiful enigma waiting to be unwrapped. I just don’t happen to be the kind of reader that would know where to begin unwrapping her, if that makes sense. And because I’m afraid it doesn’t, I do believe it’s time to stop with the metaphors and wrap this up nicely for you, friends: Harper Harper is number two on my list of favorite characters from PBH, and that is not something done lightly or by accident. She was one of our three heroines, after all. And a proper heroine she was, friends. Don’t you ever forget it.

  ·   Libbie Packard broke my heart more times than I count, friends. You’ll notice I have kept her maiden name, then. This is intentional, friends, for our Libbie never wanted to be a Brookhants, not really. It wasn’t towards the end of PBH that we learned much of what we now know about Libbie, and how it came about that she had been married (to a man no less!), as well as the very young principal of an all-girls school. Throughout their chapters in the book, Libbie and Alex, her Alex, were seemingly at each other’s throats constantly. There seemed to be a mysterious tension that we as an audience weren’t privy to – but it didn’t stop us from speculating. I found myself drawn to Libbie more than I did her counterpart, and I still can’t point my finger as to why. Libbie seemed sad, right from our first introduction, and Alex always seemed angry and cynical (as a queer woman in 1902, is there any other way to seem?). This might serve as a dual character analysis yet, friends. I’m not sure how much I’ll have to say about our Alexandra Trills, but Libbie Packard deserves a long sentence, or two. You know when something finally clicks into place and you can’t help but just let out a long “ooohhhhhhh”? That’s a recreation of how I looked when I read the explanation of how Libbie Packard became Libbie Brookhants. Learning that she had become pregnant with a baby she didn’t want was mind-blowing enough, and it filled in the blanks of how young, gorgeous Libbie had become the wife of a rich, old, old man. Libbie gave up her child was because she didn’t want to be a mother, and she had originally rejected Harold Brookhants offer of marriage because she didn’t want to be a wife, regardless of false the marriage was. And for a while, Libbie’s new life was amazing; she got to live with her Alex in a beautiful house and became the principal of a promising school. This was the life she’d always wanted. Or was that just what we wanted to believe, friends? Only at the end did we learn that Libbie had rejected Harold Brookhants offer (to live a quiet, queer life with her lover and without the child she clearly didn’t want) because she didn’t want to be tied down; not to Harold, not to anyone. If you think about it, friends, this was exactly the life that she had been living for years to come now. The tension with Alex had much to do with the circumstances surrounding them at Brookhants and the evil that was unfolding before them, but it seemingly had even more to do with the fact that Libbie Packard felt smothered. She was hiding secrets from Alex, secrets that she felt could destroy this already fragile relationship that they had between them. How vastly different it was to read and experience their relationship at the beginning of their love; playful and full of joy, both women giddy with the promise of something new and exciting. To compare that kind of love to the broken, tight-lipped, empty vessel of the relationship they now pretend to have is heartbreaking. And yet, completely understandable. Alex had fallen in love with the Libbie she wanted her to be, not the Libbie she was. Our Libbie wanted to be eternally young; playful and happy, bouncing from city to city with Sara Dahlgren in a sea of eligible bachelors (and bachelorettes!). It was almost a shock to discover that this life Libbie tried so hard to defend and protect was not a life she had ever wanted for herself. Despite this, she loved her Alex and her students, and devoted her life to them. There was that whole business with cheating on Alex with Adelaide the housemaid (don’t even get me started on that broad) but I’d like to extend to you, friends, the fact that I won’t comment on this. Queer relationships in 1902 are definitely not what they are now, complete with century-old curses and dead schoolgirls. Libbie Packard became the 1902-lesbian-headmistress version of our stereotypical bored housewife, stuck in a marriage that she secretly wishes she could be free from. And my heart broke for her, friends, it really did. But she was a heroine all on her own. A deeply intelligent and remarkable woman. Make no mistake, friends. Libbie Packard and Libbie Brookhants differ by more than just a surname. Our young, vivacious Libbie disappeared the moment she accepted Harold Brookhants’ offer, and this is indeed the sad truth of it, friends: Libbie Packard was gone before she could ever find herself. But Libbie Brookhants was our gorgeous, brilliant, queer heroine that never got what she deserved. So, friends, let’s all have a moment of silence for our dearly departed Libbie Brookhants… wherever she is.

·   Alexandra Trills is a character that I don’t know where to begin with. Her end is not one that I saw coming, at least not in the gruesome and deranged circumstances that came to surround it. Or maybe, friends, I just didn’t want to acknowledge the clear downwards spiral that our Miss Trills had seemed to be heading towards. Her steadfast and growing obsession with the death of Florence Hartshorn and Clara Broward was apparent in every page we turned, and the following death of Eleanor Faderman did not aid in absolving Alex of her obsession with the one, single copy of a book they had all possessed at one point: The Story of Mary McLane. Alex grew hysterical in her investigation of the novel and whatever evil she believed it had brought to the students of her school. I remember feeling a bit hysterical myself at times, following along with Alex’s scrambled train of thought that never seemed to find a place to stop. She was right, you know, my friends. And now what does she have to show for it? A gruesome death and an eternity of haunting the same grounds, day in and day out? I may not have liked her, and felt like she had been the reason Libbie was so unhappy and stuck in a life that she did not want, but the way Alex’s story had ended really did take me by surprise and break my heart. She deserved a better ending than what she got; she deserved to reconcile and fix her strained relationship with Libbie. Damn it, they deserved to live quiet, happy lives with each other. Neither of them got the endings that they deserved, and God, did they deserve plenty. This, friends, is the hill I choose to die on tonight.

 Alright, friends, this is it for my character analysis of Emily Danforth’s Plain Bad Heroines! I have a special place in my heart for book characters that you can relate with (or characters that just really make you love them). The way that Emily Danforth brought our heroines to life was remarkable and highly impressive (I say this because it’s decidedly been a while since any book character(s) have weaseled their fictional way into my little heart). It’s rare that I give a book five stars (check out my Goodreads reviews) (oh god, please don’t), and yet halfway through PBH, I knew that this book deserved it. Good book characters are the ones that stick with you long after you’ve closed the book on them, and our heroines are stuck with me. And believe me, friends, I’m certainly not complaining. 

[pluto-art]

Softly - PatB Fan Fiction

Type: Hurt/Comfort Rating: PG Summary: Baby Brain has known little but pain and misery in an unloving world, but when he gets paired up with a new lab student things change in a way he didn’t expect.

This started out as a mini story in a Discord server and got... a little out of hand. What you see here is how much I typed out in the server.

He hadn't been there long. Two... maybe three weeks? The cold metal had finally become familiar beneath his feet, and the strange blocks, though generally tasteless, kept him alive. There wasn't much that made his new living quarters interesting; there was only so much one could do in a pile of aspen shavings day after day. Occasionally, they would hook up to his cage some sort of liquid that wasn't his usual watery fair. He could never decipher or make heads or tails of the words on the sides of the bottles, saying things like D-D-T or S-N-I-P-P-L-E. The only distinguishing feature to him was that sometimes they tasted terrible, sometimes quite flavorful, and sometimes they tasted like nothing at all. Almost all of them turned his stomach. Driven to thirst, however, he'd play their cruel game. Choice was not something that existed in this crisp, sterile world; at least, not from a personal standpoint. When it did exist it meant the difference between a shock and a treat; a yellow light or a red light; a warm room or a cold one. Choice was manufactured.

He still cried almost every night. He tried to quiet the tears, but they didn't always listen. The others heard him. One or two laughed cynically. Most said nothing; they'd shed their own fair share and would again sooner than later. A single kind soul, a mother rat some doors down from him, occasionally whispered to him a lullaby or two when everyone else but them were asleep. They were songs she sang to her own children to quiet their tears, and she had no less compassion for this unfortunate soul, who was even worse off than her own brood -- he didn't even have any parents to nuzzle up to. Had she her way, she would have mutilated every last living human being in the facility. It was bad enough that they were tested on mercilessly as adults. To do so to children was simply insidious. Alas, she was simply a rat, and so could only dream of days when she wasn't.

Not that BR-41N (that's what they called him; no one had real names here) hadn't tried to be friendly with his captures. Aside from a particularly nasty poke from some long, thin, prickly object inserted into his thigh the first day (it had stung; oh, it had stung...) the proceeding couple of days had consisted of simple maze runs and treadmill exercises. Nothing too elaborate. As a child, he'd been used to running around a lot in the field, and sifting through the labyrinths reminded him of the long grass he'd play hide-and-seek in back home, except at the end of them was a tasty prize: a piece of cheese. He liked cheese. In the wild, it was hard to come by, but here they gave it to him generously, provided he finished the courses, which he always did. The fourth day followed in much the same way, but the fifth day brought something different: a sudden shock and a broken tail. That had changed his view of things. Perhaps the harsh awakening wouldn't have been so terrible had it not been followed by other unspeakable things -- poisoned food; friends made that, the next day, would never be seen again; more shocks given as punishment for choosing an incorrect panel; injections that made him see things he'd never seen, monsters and strange colors and other scary things that kept him awake at night; loud noises that came out of nowhere; and often, quite often, the terrifying echo of squeaks, barks, and meows that made up the daily music of Acme Laboratories. He hated it. He hated all of it. More than anything, he wanted to go home. He missed the warmth; the love; the soft whisper of the wind that traveled through his ivory fur. He wanted all of it back. But life? She was a harsh mistress. And no amount of crying, screaming, or pleading, seemed to ever make her turn an ear.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks... months, more than just a tail was broken. Trust was broken. Hope was broken. Spirit... was broken. If there was any love, if there was any future, it wasn't here. Kindness had proved unfruitful, and patience had run its course. He didn't find reason to be willing, nor show charity, towards those who made his life a living hell. What reason was there? What profit was in it? Time had told him, quite bluntly, there wasn't. It had taken him a full month to admit defeat, but admit it he did, and cynical he became, 'til every hand that reached in to grab him was ripe to be bitten, every shot that punctured his stomach was the unwelcome norm, and every newcomer that tried to strike up a friendship was easily ignored. The latter-most was simply wasting their time. He could read the colors on the cages now. He knew that a red mark meant "death". He only wondered why he, as of yet, had never been given one himself. It was as if life itself was laughing at him -- keeping him as witness to the horrors that went on inside the dragon's cave, yet never giving him the satisfaction of death.

And so the third month dawned, chilly and barren, or so the scientists said. Autumn had come. Not that any of the residents within the thick, cemented walls could see it. But the laboratory personnel spoke of it -- gold and crimson leaves, hot chocolate, dried wheat fields. He could almost smell the corn; could almost feel the breeze.... Days passed. For the first time, they gave him a cage mate. E8-WN, they called him. He was kind, but BR-41N had little love left to give. Besides, he had the red tag. It seemed they had only placed him here temporarily due to a lack of space. The next day he was taken to the back. The tiniest shred of pity nipped at BR-41N as he watched the little peach-furred mouse be carried into the surgical room, a curious look on his face. Another emotion was also present within him: jealousy. On the 17th day of September, a new thing happened -- a thing that, for the first time in a while, made the little mouse turn his head.

The school year had started, and, as such, fresh meat was welcomed into the laboratory in the form of fourteen college students looking to continue pursuits in medical science. They were all very quiet during the tour, one or two of them occasionally lifting a hand to ask a question about course materials or contact information. They were each, it seemed, to be given a subject: an animal from the laboratory to study, train, and conduct experiments on. Rats, mice, and hamsters had already been picked out for them, and each was given a black-coated subject or a brown-furred captive to take charge of. Each student's rodent was to be kept in the lab at all times, and specific instructions were given them as to the proper handling of the creatures. At least two experiments were to be conducted on them daily, three if possible. They could spend as much time with their charge as they wished, so long as they got their homework done. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents. Four months to finish their work. Simple.

As it stood, however, there had been a miscalculation. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents.... No. Not fourteen. Only thirteen. There'd been an error. They'd forgotten to set aside an extra subject. The unfortunate student without a charge was a college girl named Rachel. All other rodents were going through tests conducted by various personnel in the lab, set aside specifically for said conductions that couldn't currently be tampered with. All except one....

"So, um, Rachel," their teacher said, checking his student list. "You may have to share with... Peterson.... You know what? We might... actually have an extra for you. Hold on. Let me ask...."

And he departed into another room, calling for a "Jackson".

"Jackson! Can she use BR-41N? I don't think he's going through any rigorous testing.... Yeah? Okay. Yeah, that would work out perfectly. Thanks."

He turned back to his brood, many of whom looked quite eager to jump in to these intriguing studies, others looking downright bored.

"Okay. We have one for you. His code name is BR-41N. He's not going through any major testing, and he's generally given the usual works -- labyrinths, shock treatment, all that. But, um... he bites. Really bad. So... you'll have to watch it, all right?"

"Okay," Rachel nodded, looking a little nervous.

"All right. Umm.... Good. Yes. So, let's head back to the main campus, and... we'll start your work tomorrow."

And they left.

BR-41N had only heard part of all this, and had understood none of it. He shivered in his cage, taking a moment to drink some water out of the bottle that hung there. While the arrival of such a large group intrigued him, especially since it consisted of a much younger set than normal, it also made him nervous. Was it a sign of good things to come... or bad? Or just more of the usual fair? One could only wonder. For now, he was simply grateful that the cheese they'd given him today was, for once, not laced with drugs.

She came by on a Tuesday.

It was an hour after a cosmetics test that he heard a knock on the table. His skin still burned. He was cowering in a far corner, and looked back over his shoulder hesitantly.

Rachel stood there, smiling at him.

"Hello, little one." He stared at her, nonplussed. "I guess you're my charge. You gonna say hello?"

And she opened up the door of his cage.

He shuffled back further. He knew all too well by this point that the opening of a door meant one of two things: food or torture. Considering the fact that she didn't smell of food, he had to assume it was the latter.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Well, hopefully not...."

Although he didn't understand a word of what she said, her tone was calm; soothing. No one in the lab ever talked to him like this. He couldn't help but stare curiously.

She held her hand up to the entrance and made a soft, squeak-like sound with her mouth. He frowned at her. As if that was going to convince him. He turned away.

"No? I don't blame you," she replied, taking a look at his clipboard. "BR-41N. What kind of a freak name is that? Mind if I call you Brain? Or Brian?"

No response.

"We'll go with Brian. Brain sounds kinda weird."

Brian it was.

She kept the door open, and he braced himself. Any moment now, gloved hands would be protruding into his enclosure to wrap themselves firmly about him, not tight enough to choke him, but secure enough that he couldn't escape. But the hand didn't come. If anything, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and rested her arms upon the table on which his cage sat. She was... giving him a choice? He stared at her, unsure how to react.

"Come on, sweet heart," she cooed, rubbing her fingers together encouragingly.

But he wouldn't budge. If this was some new trick, it wasn't going to work. He wished she'd just grab him and get it over with. Sooner or later, she'd have to. It was only a matter of time. And so he waited....

She sat there for a full twenty minutes, trying her best to get him to come over, but he refused to budge, and so she gave up. As expected, she still ran him through a maze, but instead of reaching in to grab him, she found a clear tube and scooped him up in it, covering both ends before depositing him into the run as such. It was... odd, but less invasive than what he was used to. He rather wished the others would do it that way.

Via the same method she returned him to his cage at the end of the test. As usual, he took to the corner, assuming his usual cowardly pose, but he turned to look at her as she spoke.

"Sorry about that. Nice job, though. See you tomorrow."

And so went the next day... and the next, always with the same introduction: She'd open his door, pull up a chair, and offer her hand to him. After twenty minutes of nothing, she'd scoop him up in the tube, deposit him in the maze or whatever other test he was to perform that day, and return him in the same manner. This went on for four whole weeks, always with a kind word, never coupled with a harsh prod or poking of his skin. He came to somewhat look forward to her almost daily visits, not because he trusted her (the one time she had tried touching him [with gloves on, of course], he'd given her a fair warning in the form of a bite), but because it was the only two hours during the day in which he knew he wouldn't be fed poison, given a shot, or made to inhale cigarette smoke. The other students joked with her. By far, she had the unfriendliest mouse out of all of them, and they found her kind advances a waste of time.

"Just pick him up!" a tall boy said.

Most of them had no problem with handling their subjects by the tail; at least, the boys generally didn't. The girls were kinder, but even they didn't take the time to get to know their animals intimately. They also were given the harder tests to conduct on their critters and so tried not to get attached.

Whereas most of the rats, mice, and hamsters given to the students would eventually be killed in some way or other at the end of the semester, via through vivisection, gassing, cancer, or some other method, BR-41N, or... Brian, as Rachel now called him, was not scheduled to be offed anytime soon and so could not undergo such rigorous experiments. As such, she got both the easy job of conducting very simple tests on him, and also the hard job of trying to work with the most hostile mouse in the entire facility.

"He's never gonna warm up to you," one of the other students said.

Rachel took it as a challenge.

"Watch me," she said.

But Brian was proving to be a much tougher can than expected. By the sixth week, he still hadn't even bothered to venture near the cage entrance when she sat near it, even with tasty treats in hand. He simply didn't trust anyone. Not anymore....

October came and went, to be replaced with a frosty November. Whenever Brian saw Rachel now she had a cup of tea in hand, the better to ward off the coming winter chill. Still she tried; still he refused to relent. Until the 9th....

It was late. She hadn't been able to get to the lab until 8:00 PM due to unfortunate series of events that involved a fender bender, two appointments, and a last minute essay. When she got to the lab she was tired... and not at all in the mood to deal with Brian's B.S., and he knew it.

"'Sup?" she asked him wearily, setting down her things in a huff. Only a handful of other people were still in the facility at this hour, none of them students. Fine by her. She preferred the quiet anyway. "We're gonna do something a little different today, bud."

Indeed.... He perked his ears up at her exhausted tone and the fact that, for once, she didn't open the cage door. But she did still slide the chair up to his table.

On the opposite side of the room was a television on a rolling stand. Normally, this was used for surgeries and other experiments. Once in a blue moon, however, someone would use it for recreational purposes -- to watch the local news when there was time to kill. Most fortunately for Rachel, it also came with a VHS player. Into it she popped a tape, before sitting down in the chair and grabbing her hot cup of peppermint tea. Despite himself, Brian took a whiff of the tea, whose scent had wafted into his cage and tickled his nose. It smelled good.

The film began to play. Brian didn't know the name of it, but whatever it was it was made up of very pretty pictures and featured a lot of dogs... and snow (at least at the beginning). It was rather soothing. Still, he didn't move from his spot, save to grab a lab block at one point to munch on, more to pass the time than anything. His stomach was still a little unsettled from earlier. Privately, he was a bit ticked off at the girl. Had she been a bit earlier he might have avoided the shock treatments. Not that they would have withheld them regardless.

It wasn't until the second song that his attention was at last caught.

"La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...."

Sweetly did the animated woman sing her little song, and Brian, captivated, perked his ears. He looked up at the television. She was still singing. He stepped forward, bit by bit, until he was right up to the closed door, two little paws coming up to grasp at the bars of his cage as he stared, entranced, at the screen.

"La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper, La la lu, La la lu, La la luuuuu."

And so it ended, all within the span of a minute, if that, but something had stirred with him -- a remembrance of home, and warmth, and what it was like to be loved.

He was still clutching at the bars when he noticed that Rachel was smiling at him, and he promptly sped back to his corner, embarrassed.

"Atta boy," she whispered, still grinning softly at him.

He refused to look at her. He wasn't touched by it or anything. He wasn't....

"It's okay. Don't be embarrassed," said the girl. "I like that song, too."

Brian stayed in his corner the rest of the movie, but the song never left his mind. 

---

The next day proceeded as normal. Once again, Rachel sat by his cage. Once again, she had brought a treat, albeit one he'd never seen before, nor smelled, for that matter. It was small... and white... and fluffy, and it smelled sugary and sweet. He wanted it. Oh, he wanted it so very badly. But nothing that ever came from the fingers of a scientist, even a soft-spoken one, was innocent. And so he refused, his back turned to her.

"Stubborn butt," said Rachel, and by her tone alone Brian could tell that it was a snide comment. He ignored her.

"Here."

As had occurred many times before, she left the treat in his cage near the entrance, closed the door, and sat to watch him. His eyes shifted towards the treat. It sat there, staring at him, mocking him. Eat me, it said. No, he thought. Oh, but it smelled so good....

Rachel sighed. So did Brian. She rested her head in her arms, exasperated. Maybe it really wasn't worth it....

Brian licked his lips. Perhaps....

He took a step forward. Rachel remained where she was, head in her arms, not looking at him. He moved another step. She was still as a stone. Patter patter patter patter patter... GRAB. He swooped back to his corner as fast as possible, marshmallow in his mouth. Rachel looked up... and chuckled. Brian dug into the treat, enjoying every second of it as teeth sunk into the savory delight. He'd never tasted anything this good before. It was better than mother's milk; much better than lab pellets; better than cheese....

"Silly little thing," Rachel giggled, smiling as he filled his cheeks with pleasantness. "Wait 'til you see what I bring you tomorrow."

Tomorrow, he was to find out, brought a piece of a doughnut, and the day after that a waffle. He'd never been this darn spoiled before. On the fourth occasion, he was, for once, already at the door, waiting to see what she'd bring. Lady and the Tramp and sugar, it turned out, were the keys to his heart, although he still wouldn't let her touch him. If her hand so much as brushed his fur he was back to his corner in a rush, although, this time, he didn't try to bite her first.

Rachel laughed when she saw the two little paws clutching at the gated entrance.

"You like 'em that much, huh? Here ya' go."

He stepped back to allow her access to the gate, and watched carefully as she placed something savory and smelling of salt inside. He sniffed, investigating as she closed the door. He took a tentative bite. Mmmmm. Yes, this was acceptable. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his usual corner and chowed down.

"Good. A fellow bacon appreciator," Rachel nodded, satisfied.

He ate the entire piece, licking his lips and proceeding to clean himself afterwards. That had been a bit messy. Good, but messy. If there was something he still valued, it was cleanliness. He could at least retain some form of dignity. The state of his fur was one of the few things he still had control over. Unlike some of the other unfortunate chaps, he'd never had to endure surgery or a shaved stomach.

Two little pink ears perked up as his cage door was opened yet again. More treats? No. Just Rachel, hand offered to him once more. Brian sighed. She just wouldn't give up, would she?

A second glance made him aware that she did, in fact, have something in her hand -- another marshmallow. Hmph. Sneaky. And yet, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it....

"It's okay, little one," Rachel cooed, hand still outstretched, that plump marshmallow beckoning ever so tantalizingly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."

Brian sighed. He looked down at the floor, then over at her hand.

Rachel's eyes widened a touch, but she otherwise didn't reveal her surprise as Brian moved forward, inch by inch, step by step, towards her hand....

He stopped at the entrance, debating. Dare he...? It was a risk. He'd never willing done this, not since he'd been captured. It was a stupid decision. Stupid. And yet....

Her hand shifted a touch, and Brian shifted nervously with it. Rachel waited with bated breath.

He stepped forward....

In a flash, he'd grabbed the 'mallow from her hand and retreated to the back of his cage, not daring to even think about what he'd just done. It was foolish. It was dangerous. And yet, she hadn't tried to grab him, or even pet him. She'd just... given him a choice. And he'd taken it. Somehow, for some reason, he'd taken it.

Rachel smiled.

"Atta boy."

---

Perhaps it was the mere fact, the tantalizing realization, that he had a choice in the first place, that drew him back, but over the course of the next few weeks, things changed.

It had started slow at first. A light brush of the whiskers here; a sniff of the hand there. But, eventually, Brian, of his own accord, stepped into her hand. And she didn't close her fingers about him harshly, or strangle him, or pick him up by the tail. She simply... let him be. It was kind. It was unobtrusive. It was respectful. And he appreciated it.

No longer did the other students make fun, or joke that she'd never gain his trust. If anything, they questioned her.

"How the heck did you do it?" they'd ask, curious.

Even more confused were the scientists themselves. Not that anyone had tried very hard to gain the little mouse's trust. He was, in their opinion, not worth the time.

But he was to Rachel.

December came, and with it a complete turn-around in Brian's behavior, albeit towards one particular individual.

He eagerly rushed into her hand now. No need for the transportation tube. She could carry him on her shoulder to the maze area and pick him up with her bare hands as she placed him in the labyrinth, although she still made sure to let him take the first step and would, more often than not, simply offer a hand instead of plucking him from her shoulder. He still appreciated this.

Every weekday was now a day to look forward to. Sure, he was still tormented by the main personnel, but for two or three hours, two or three sweet hours, he didn't have to worry about anything. On the days he suffered from a stomach-ache, she'd hold him close to her chest and do her best to rub the pain away, offering him tea to ease his suffering, and if he fell asleep on her shoulder and woke up, shaking, from a bad dream, she'd rock him back and forth, singing "La La Lu" to him until the nightmares went away. On those rare nights, when she could only work late and no one was around, she'd bottle feed him. He'd been hesitant (and a little embarrassed) at first, but any reminder of home was difficult to ignore, and so he ended up embracing each form of love and affection with open paws, clutching tightly to her chest some days, as if this hug would be his last. For all he knew, it could be. He'd gotten used to her visits, but what if she left and never came back? He didn't want that love to leave....

December 14th.

The end of the semester was approaching. Rachel had told him, time and again, that she was leaving soon; that she would miss him; that she'd try to come back for the next semester. Brian understood none of this. He was a mouse, after all. Human language was foreign to him. The most he could understand was the occasional word -- his name, Brian, and various names of foods and tests -- and basic inflections that he knew signified concern, happiness, or contentment. But he didn't understand "leave", or "semester", or "miss". He could tell something was wrong, that she was sad, but as to why, he did not know.

A week from the last day of the semester, she brought a surprise: a movie. It had something to do with a rat, and food. He liked it for those things. He wished he could understand the words. It seemed interesting. He sat on Rachel's shoulder the entire time, at least until the end of the film, during which Rachel offered her hand to him. He accepted. She brought him up to her chest, nuzzling him close.

"I'm going away for a while, but... I'll try to be back next semester."

She petted him gently. He stared up at her, curious and concerned. Why was she so sad?

"I'm going to miss you...," she whispered. And, for the first time, she kissed him on his fuzzy white head. "I love you...."

He didn't understand the words, but he understood what they meant; how they felt.

Slowly, gently, he nuzzled close to her... and licked her fingers. It was the first time he'd shown genuine affection outside of nuzzling since he'd been captured. I love you, too....

He didn't understand it, but... there was something in the air that told him something big was coming. Something new. Something was going to be different....

December 18th came just like any other day. The semester was coming to a close. Many students had already finished their courses and gone home for the holidays. The occasional class still lingered on, including the medical science class. Most all had completed training and experimentation on their subjects for the season and were simply spending the next few days filing reports and filling out last minute essays. Some of the rodents wouldn't live to see the new year. Others had already been subjected to vivisection by their handlers and were far from the lab by this point. Subject BR-41N was one of the few who'd been given the same sheet on their clipboard day after day, week after week: a run of the mill of the usual, simple, non-invasive tests, along with an injection or two. But today was different.

As Rachel stepped up to Brian's cage, sipping at a hot cup of tea and smiling as her charge ran up to the bars to greet her, she frowned as she pulled up the clip board. His tag was yellow. Not the usual blue, but... yellow. She set down her cup, ignoring Brian's squeaky pleas to be let out as she looked over the sheet carefully.

Subject Reserved for Project B.R.A.I.N. // Invasive Study -- Cognitive Psychology, Neuroscience Psychology // 4:00 PM - Dec. 20

There was a pause, in which the dip in Rachel's brow furrowed ever deeper, her eyes roaming about the page scrutinizingly, before she slipped the paper out of its holder and headed back out the way she'd came, Brian looking curiously after her.

She marched all the way to a back office, in which sat one of the laboratory heads: Jackson. He looked up over his square-rimmed glasses as she knocked upon the exposed inner door frame.

"Yes?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Hey. Um.... I think you gave my subject the wrong paper."

"BR-41N?"

"Yeah. He got a yellow."

She stretched out her arm, offering the paper as proof, but he didn't take it. Instead, he looked up at her, fingers meeting at their tips, and said:

"No, I gave you the right paper. That's for BR-41N. His procedure is in two days."

His tone was flat and laced with a thin layer of poison, as if her daring to question him was a challenge.

"But... I thought he was just doing mainly labyrinth tests."

"Ms. Field, I thought you were told...?"

"Told what...?"

"He's been scheduled for this procedure for months. We wanted him fresh and so have eschewed more invasive tests until now. Frankly, you've been spending a little too much time with that mouse. He's gotten too friendly. We're not in the business of developing attachment here."

He said all this with a straight face, completely emotionless. Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Sir, I've... been going over this test. It's... very dangerous."

"Yes."

"It could kill him...."

"Yes?"

Rachel simply stared at him, uncertain of what to say next. He wasn't working with her here....

"Look.... What did you expect? You're studying medical science, correct?"

She nodded.

"Okay, well," he continued, a small chuckle of sarcasm escaping his lips as he said it. "Y-You have to realize that... this is a laboratory. We can't keep every subject. And these tests come with a lot of risks."

"Could you possibly do the test on another subject...?" Rachel asked, choosing her words carefully. "Brian is still kind of young, and..."

"Brian?"

Shoot.

"Sorry, I mean... BR-41N."

"You can't start... naming them, Miss Field. That's when you start getting attached. Understand?"

"I know...," Rachel mumbled, cheeks reddening as she looked down at her shoes.

"And the whole point of using him at this age is because his mind is younger. He's fresh."

"But he's just a baby..."

"Yes? And? A lot of the other students are working with infants."

"This one is...," Rachel began, than stopped. Already she'd said too much.

"Miss Field, if you don't prepare him for the procedure, someone else will. Now, you can either do your assignment or lose your credits. It's your choice."

Rachel sighed. Still holding the paper, she let her arm fall dramatically to her side.

"Fine...."

And she turned to walk off. But...

"Miss Field?"

She looked at him.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, Sir," Rachel replied, after a hefty pause, and headed back to her charge.

---

Brian didn't understand why Rachel was so quiet that day, nor why she cuddled him so much. She whispered to him something about "breaking out" and "night", but he didn't understand what those things meant, although he heard the urgency in her voice. As a result, he was a little more uptight the rest of the afternoon.

Before leaving, Rachel kissed the top of his head again, before setting him back down in the cage and hooking the door. Her good-byes were all but gibberish to him, although he recognized the word "tomorrow". So he'd be seeing her tomorrow. That was good. At least he had a time frame. He was naive to the rest....

---

December 19th 9:15 PM

BR-41N cleaned his whiskers, pondering.

She hadn't shown up today. Strange. "Tomorrow". She's said "tomorrow". Today was tomorrow. Why hadn't she come?

To his left, in a far corner of the room, someone sneezed in their cage. Brian frowned sadly. It was that hamster again. Whatever they'd given him had put him into a sneezing fit for an hour. Now and then he relapsed.

He yawned, stretched, and made for the food dispenser, when he suddenly heard a sharp click of a door being opened and abruptly snapped shut. He turned in the direction of the door. A light flicked on. Brian smiled.

Rachel's feet slid across the floor in haste. Instead of her usual student lab coat, she was decked out in her normal clothes, complete with backpack. Her hoodie was up, obscuring her hair, save for a few strands that stuck out here and there, as well as part of her face. She moved with purpose, albeit a little covertly, looking over her shoulder every now and then, as if expecting someone to grab her at any minute.

Set in a wall above the entrance to the room, a camera followed her. Rachel's eyes shifted at the sound as she moved towards Brian's cage. She knew she only had five, maybe ten, minutes at best.

Opening the cage door, she held her hand out for Brian to step onto. He hesitated. Something didn't smell right....

"Come on. We're busting you out of here, dude," Rachel whispered.

Brian cocked his head at her questioningly.

"Listen, they're going to put your through that splicer if we don't get you out of here, so come on."

There was an urgency in her voice that, despite his misgivings, compelled him to move forward. He trusted her too much by this point.

"Atta boy," she praised him, tucking him in her shirt pocket.

He peeked out, paws clutching at the edges of the pocket interestedly.

"Let's go," Rachel whispered, turning back to the door and stopping as she realized that someone was already standing there....

Framed in the metal doorway was a woman, thirty-five... maybe forty-something in age. Her arms were crossed, and the expression on her face seemed as taught and firm as the scrunchie tightening her poofy auburn hair. Her long lab coat was still settling; she must have only just gotten there. Rachel recognized this woman. Lana, her name was -- she was one of the head managers at the facility. Jackson had obviously tipped her off.

"Fancied a night stroll?" she asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel remained frozen in place, a hand subconsciously cupping her shirt pocket. The gesture didn't go unnoticed.

"You know you're risking a lot for this. That's all your credits down the drain."

"He's worth it," Rachel answered, resolute.

"He's not. You take him and they'll just get another subject."

"At least I'll have saved this one."

"We'd still rather you not take an asset that's been reserved for months for this procedure," Lana nipped, taking a step forward.

Rachel took a step back. Her eyes shifted to a door to her left. It led to several other testing rooms and then back out into the main hallway. Some of the doors had security locks. It was the long way around, but if she was fast enough....

"Rachel...," Lana spoke, tone threatening as she advanced. "Put him down."

With each step Lana took towards her, Rachel moved two back. She could feel herself starting to perspire. Gosh, this was a stupid idea....

"Rachel...."

With a hand cupped over her shirt pocket, Rachel darted in the direction of the door, opening it up in a flash and slamming it shut behind her. Already she was racing for the opposite end of the room, where another door stood.

Brian jumped as an alarm went off, followed by red lights that flashed all throughout the facility. Rachel was already in the next room, her heart racing. She could hear the panicked footsteps behind her, mimicking her own, and hoped upon hope that she was faster than her pursuer.

Rachel picked up her pace as she entered the next room. This one, she knew, required an employee badge to open. All of the students had been given security badges, of course, primarily for general access to the entrance and main rooms. They worked on some doors in the facility. Some, but not all. She'd never been in these rooms. Privately, she prayed that they'd open for her.

Slamming her badge up against a wall panel, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet nervously.

"Come on. Come oooon! Take it!!"

It did. The door unlocked, and she swung it open in haste to make for the next locked door, which also granted her entrance.

She was faster than Lana, but it didn't mean the woman wasn't hot on her heels. Brian shut his eyes tightly, huddling against Rachel's chest on the inside of her pocket as she darted about, her hand still cupping him securely. He knew, somehow, that this was about him. His ears rotated this way and that at the duo of clicking feet racing down the linoleum flooring. Who would win? Who was he most valuable to?

It wasn't until the fourth room that Rachel started to panic. Yet again, she'd reached a door asking for proof of access, except this time... her badge was not accepted. She shook the door handle feebly, knowing it wouldn't open; knowing this was the end of the line. Despite himself, Brian peeked out of the shirt pocket, just in time to see Lana as Rachel swiftly turned around to face the woman, who stood at the opposite end of the room, hair askew and chest heaving as she glared at Rachel and her tiny charge.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Lana huffed.

"Why do you need him?! Just let me take him and get another subject!" Rachel bit.

"We let you get away with it and you'll set a precedent! You know that!" Lana snapped right back. "And we don't want to waste any more time. We've spent too much money on this project."

"He's just a baby!"

"All of them are meant to be expendable! Hand him over!"

"No!"

Brian's ears flicked. Rachel held her breath. Was it just them, or did they hear... more footsteps?

"You won't have a choice," Lana said flatly, expressionless as she was joined by not one, not two, but five other lab hands, one of the them Jackson, all of them full-time personnel.

"Rachel.... Hand him over," Jackson said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Rachel glared daggers at him, even though she was fully aware of the impossibility of the situation. Like the mouse she was trying so hard to protect, she was trapped, her back against the wall, literally. They were going to take him. They were going to take him and there was nothing she could do about it....

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Jackson continued.

"Please...," Rachel pleaded, breathing heavily. "Please, let me take care of him. I'll train another in his place as compensation, I swear. Just... don't hurt him."

"And then you'll grow attached to that one and try and kidnap it. We've seen it before. You're not the first," Jackson reprimanded.

"Good," said Rachel. "I'm glad I'm not."

Privately, she wondered why she'd ever signed up for this in the first place. She wanted the degree. She wanted it badly. She also loved animals, and knew that following her passion came with sacrifices. What she hadn't counted on was how difficult it would be to accept that. It wasn't feasible, she realized. In fact, it was darn near impossible.

She looked down at the infant trembling in her pocket -- at this little creature that had captured her heart and locked it away, far away from any hopes and dreams of graduating in the medical field of her choosing. "He's not worth it," Lana had said. Was he not? Brian looked up at her, those glossy little eyes staring at her expectantly, trustingly. She smiled sadly at him and, for the last time, cuddled him close, before looking up at the troop across from her.

"If you want him, come and get him," she challenged. They weren't getting him without a fight.

And they rushed at her.

She tried to escape. Oh, she tried... and failed. They grabbed her by the arms as she wrestled against them, cheering Brian on as he somehow managed to escape from her pocket and slip underneath one of the shelving units in the room. But Lana caught him, Brian squeaking as his tail snagged between the beaker and the small metal panel she'd captured him with. He stared at Rachel, his desperate, panicked expression the last thing she saw before being knocked out.

-------

- Two Years Later -

The plan had failed. Rather spectacularly, he might add....

It was the first time in Brain's memory he could ever recall being caught red-handed by any of the personnel at Acme Labs. It was a miracle he and Pinky had managed to escape, but, despite his best attempts, they'd been separated in the process.

He made for a facility some yards away from the main laboratory, sweating as he squeezed under its front door and immediately hid under a cabinet to his right. Lights flashed now and again beyond the windows, desperate voices accompanying them as the scientists searched here and their for the escapees. Brain silently prayed that Pinky had somehow found a suitable hiding spot.

In his position under the cabinet, he backed up against the wall and slid down it, a paw clutching at his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he gulped, sniffed, and buried his face in his knees. Stupid. Stupid.... He'd jeopardized their whole mission. What if they'd captured Pinky? What would they do to him? And even if they did escape, where would they go? He'd ruined everything. Everything....

In his haste to remain undetected, he'd neglected to realize that this room... was not entirely devoid of life. It was a small area -- a security office, to be exact. Numerous monitors took up space on a desk, at which someone sat. They slid out of their chair and stepped over to Brain's hiding place. He noticed... and shivered.

Whatever, whomever, it was got down on their knees to peer at him from just outside the dresser.

"Hello...," they said.

It was a woman. Her voice was soft, and kind, but Brain turned his head away from her prying eyes. Typical. In an effort to not get caught he'd inevitably been ratted out. He immediately considered making a run for it, but, for some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't.

"Hey.... Shh. Shh. It's okay, little one. It's okay," cooed the woman. "You wanna come on out...?"

And she held out a hand to him. She didn't try to grab him, or scare him out. She simply... gave him a choice.

But it had been too long. He didn't recognize her, neither she him... until she noticed the tail. Then she knew.

"Brian...?" she breathed, eyes growing wide.

He stared at her, nonplussed, still shivering.

"Brian, it's me. Rachel," she beckoned, her hand still in place. But he didn't move. If anything, he frowned at her. "Brian"?

And she tried everything -- talking to him soothingly; offering him a treat from her pocket. Nothing worked. Brain simply hid his face once more, willing her to go away; to leave him be; to, hopefully, not report him to the authorities if they came to call.

Rachel sighed. She sat up for a moment, thinking, and blinked. Struck with a sudden idea, she rested her hands on her lap... and began to sing....

“La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...“

Brain blinked... and lifted his head, ever so slowly....

“La la lu, La la lu, Little soft fluffy sleeper, Here comes a pink cloud for you...“

He stood up... and walked forward, right to the edge of the cabinet. She was still singing.

“La la lu, La la lu, Little wandering angel, Fold up your wings, Close your eyes...”

His mouth was fully open now, his round eyes glossy and getting ever shinier. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her face.

“La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper...

La la lu, La la lu, La la lu....”

Rachel stared at him, smiling. He had completely stepped out from under the cabinet by now, his little body trembling slightly.

"Hello, little star sweeper," Rachel whispered to him.

Breath hitching, Brain ran onto her lap, up her shirt, and clutched tightly to her chest, only a second or two going by before he felt those familiar hands hold him gently, securely.

"Oh, Brian...," she choked, kissing his head. He didn't even flinch.

"Why didn't you come back?" he asked, unable to hold back his tears.

"I couldn't," she answered honestly. "But I was able to keep an eye on you from here."

He sniffed and pulled back a little to look around the room. It was, indeed, a security office, and a fairly high end one at that, decked out with all the works.

"I'm an artist now, but in my part time I take the night shift. They at least let me come back for that, probably 'cause Jackson and Lana are gone now," she chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you this time...."

Brain looked up at her, suddenly understanding. All that time they'd never been caught; never been reported. All those months and years that the camera had simply turned a blind eye to their antics. He thought it was simply negligence. Now he knew why.

"Thank you...," Brain whispered. "And it's... Brain now."

"I know," she smiled. “I still watch tv, ya' know. I just still remember you as my 'Brian'. I'm sorry, Brain."

He couldn't help but smile. All this time....

"Come with me?" Rachel asked him.

"Where?"

"Back to my place. I'll hide you. You can have the guest room, if you'd like."

A sharp knock at the door startled them both, and she quickly ran to her desk, Brain in her hands. She lifted him up and under the desk.

"There's a hidden panel in the roof! Get in it!" she whispered to him urgently.

He found it, albeit with a little difficulty. He pushed at a little area that looked as if it had been cut into... and down shifted a small cubby in which she kept an assortment of odd bits and bobs that were probably not supposed to be in her possession -- special looking keys and badges, among other things. He slipped into it, and Rachel pushed it closed before walking over to answer the door....

Another barrage of bangs thundered at the entrance as Rachel opened it, a hand on her hip as she held the door ajar, doing her best to look as ticked off as possible.

"Sheesh! Gimme a minute to finish pouring my tea! Gosh...."

Outside stood two gentlemen, both in lab coats, looking frantic.

"Have you seen a mouse?" one of them said. He was taller and appeared to be the leader. "White. Large cranium. He was with a companion."

Rachel shrugged.

"Is that what you guys have been looking for?"

"You haven't seen them on your cameras?" the second man asked, panting a little.

Rachel shook her head.

"No, I haven't seen anything."

The men exchanged glances.

"We'd better search the place, just to make sure," the leader said, and without further ado they barged in and began searching every nook, cranny, drawer, and trash can they could. They failed to find the hidden cubby, however. "Can we ask you to roll back the footage?"

"Sure, but you're not gonna find anything," Rachel shrugged again.

They did as permitted, scrutinizing every bit of film captured within the last ten minutes. Although they managed to catch one or two glimpses of the mice leaving the lab, as expected, they couldn't find hair no hide of them on any other roll. Behind their backs, Rachel smirked. Smart little guy. Even on the run, he'd purposely made sure not to walk in the path of the cameras.

After several more minutes of scrutiny, they finally gave up, heading for the door in a huff.

"Sorry for your time. Report to us if you find anything," said the leader.

"No problem," Rachel said, shutting the door with a snap behind them and sighing deeply. Yeah, right..., she thought.

Going back to her desk, she pushed open the hidden cubby. It lowered down and Brain immediately jumped into her hand, breathing rather heavily.

"Sorry, little one," Rachel apologized. I can imagine it's pretty stuffy in there...."

He gave her a look, albeit not a very harsh one. He had no reason to complain.

She raised her hand, allowing him to jump up onto her shoulder.

"They'll be back later to go over more footage," Rachel warned, sitting down at her desk and leaning back in her chair.

"I know," Brain said, licking at his paws and smoothing out his frazzled fur.

Rachel jumped a little and stared at him.

"Heh. I forgot you guys talk now...."

"Is that a problem...?" Brain asked, a little nervously.

Rachel smiled.

"Not at all."

She reached out a hand to scratch at a spot behind his ears.

"What are you...? Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho...," Brain melted, reeling a little at first before giving way to a goofy smile and a thumping foot as he pressed into the touch.

"Still got that little sensitive spot, huh?" Rachel chuckled, her scratches evolving into a head massage.

Brain practically fell off her shoulder, Rachel catching him in her hands and raising him up to eye level, the better to get a good look at him. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. How demoralizing.... But Rachel simply beamed at him.

"You know... I really missed you."

"I... wish I could say the same...," Brain confessed, shuffling a foot. He imagined he had thought of her often, as an infant, but over time the memories simply... faded.

Rachel didn't look upset, though.

"I understand. It's okay. I still love you."

"I...," Brain began, then stopped. No. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Even with Pinky he couldn't ever admit such a thing, and he loved Pinky most of all.

"You don't have to say it. I know you do in your heart," Rachel said, and she kissed him tenderly on the top of his head.

His ears flattened as she did it, and he almost immediately smoothed out the area where she'd kissed him, but he couldn't hide the blush tickling his cheeks and ears. Her behavior was cheesy as all get out, but privately he knew she was right. He did care, even if he'd never admit it.

Just then, something, or... someone, slipped underneath the door. A white-furred, lanky somebody.

"Pinky!!" Brain yelped.

Brain leapt off of Rachel in a flash, landing hard on the floor and limping a little as he ran into Pinky's outstretched arms.

"Brain!!" Pinky shouted right back. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!!"

He twirled him around in a circle or two before Brain became aware of what he was doing and promptly pushed himself out of Pinky's grasp, clearing his throat, once again embarrassed.

"Y-Yes, well.... I'm... glad you're safe, Pinky," Brain replied awkwardly, patting his companion on the head.

"Ohhh! Who's this, Brain?" Pinky asked, pointing up at Rachel, who still sat in her computer chair, smiling down at them both.

"Umm.... Pinky, this is Rachel. She's... an old friend."

"Nice to meet you, Pinky! I've heard a lot about you. Well, maybe not heard, but... I've seen you guys on the tv a lot!" Rachel said, beaming.

"You have?!" Pinky gasped, clasping two paws to his face in surprise. "Did you hear that, Brain? We're famous!!"

"Pinky, we've been famous many times, all of them never lasting as long as I'd like...," Brain recollected.

"Well, yes, Brain, but never to a friend!"

Rachel smiled and leaned forward a little.

"I have a proposition for you guys."

"For both of us? Is that legal, Brain?" Pinky whispered to his cage mate, looking concerned, to which Brain facepalmed.

"Proposition, Pinky, not proposal."

"Ohhhhhhhhh. Well, that's different then, isn't it?" Pinky said, nodding eagerly to Rachel.

"How would you guys like to come room at my place? Just for as long as you need until you can get off your feet."

Once again, Pinky gasped excitedly.

"Can we, Brain?!"

"Well...," Brain pondered, hesitating. The offer, though generous, made him feel rather... helpless and awkward, as if he was intruding.

"You're welcome to any of the food and stuff. I've got havarti," she smirked.

Pinky gasped again.

"Oh, please, please, please, please, pleeeeaaaaase, Brain?!?" Pinky pleaded again.

"You're... sure you wouldn't mind?" Brain asked. "I'd hate to intrude...."

"My house is yours," Rachel said genuinely. "And it comes with a pool table," she added, winking at Pinky.

Pinky was doing his utmost to contain a squeal, biting his lip and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Brain rolled his eyes.

"Oh, all right...," he relented.

"YAAAAAY!!" exclaimed Pinky, jumping into Rachel's outstretched hand, followed by Brain, as she lifted them up onto her shoulder.

"You'll have to hide in my backpack on the way to the car," she said. "The next guy is about to swap out with me."

And she pulled her backpack up from off the floor and plopped it onto the desk, opening it up. Pinky sprung off her shoulder as if it was a diving board, plunging into the depths of the backpack, which, by all accounts, wasn't very deep. Pinky didn't seem to mind, though. He had fun "swimming" around amongst the snacks, car keys, pencils, wallet, and little sketchpad all the same. Brain simply shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. What an idiot.

Rachel was as good as her word. They were given the guest bedroom, along with access to the rest of the house, food included. Provided they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, they were allowed to tinker and plan all they liked within the safety of the back room, and lie low they did, for Acme Labs was on the hunt for a good number of weeks before they gave up on finding them entirely.

Pinky was quite fond of the seemingly unlimited amount of cheese available in the fridge, along with the plethora of movies Rachel had at her disposal. He was often to be found in front of the television, and if he wasn't there he was by Brain's side almost constantly. Brain was most grateful for the space in which to concoct experiments and conjure up plans for world domination, although he had to improvise more often than not, seeing as he didn't have all of the lab's equipment at his beck and call anymore. It was something he sorely missed, but he couldn't say he minded the warm bed and good food that came with their new living quarters either. It was... nice.

Once in a blue moon (which ended up being once a month), Pinky would request Lady and the Tramp for movie night, not just because he liked it, but because of Brain's unusual reaction to it. He liked to watch him subconsciously lean up against Rachel as they sat next to her, eventually breaking down into a fit of silent tears as "La La Lu" danced around the room. Sometimes Rachel would pick him up, holding him close and massaging his head as he calmed against her chest. Oftentimes, Pinky would join them, cuddling up next to Brain as they nuzzled together in Rachel's warm hands.

"I love you, Brain," Pinky would mumble sweetly, giving him an extra squeeze.

"I love you, little one," whispered Rachel, petting him softly.

I love you, too, said Brain in his own little way, holding them both just a tiny bit tighter, a smile creeping its way up onto his face. It was nice, being loved....

~ I love you, too. ~

The End

-------------

The ending of this is meant to be sort of an alternate to Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain. What if they'd ended up there after running away from Acme instead of at Elmyra's?

I didn’t realize until after writing this that it makes no sense for Rachel to be cool with Brain talking one minute, only to be surprised by it the next. It’s a glaring error on my part, but I left it in as a reminder to myself that I need to be more careful. Lol.

Technically, this whole thing is a self-insert, although the name of the girl is not my real name. It’s actually the cognomen of my very first rat. Ha-ha. But the personality of the character is me -- how I talk; act around animals; and most likely what I’d do if put into this situation. The exception is the chase scene. I don’t think I’d act that... panicked? Who knows, though....

This is kind of a way I show compassion for Brain, seeing as I cannot, of course, give him an actual hug. I love Brain more than any other fictional character I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching on screen. It’s not a romantic love or anything. Certainly not. It’s more... maternal. The desire to love and protect is strong. That combination of: individual with a tragic backstory + laboratory setting + main character who happens to be a mouse = the perfect concoction to turn my heart to mush. I owned rats for many years and have a great love for animals, and tend to get attached to certain fictional characters, so here you have the result. He’d be as averse as ever to physical affection, but if I could hold Brain in my hands, plant a kiss on his head, and tell him he’s loved. I would. Thank God for Pinky.

[senju-sekhmet]

The Leash (Part 10)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death, angst with a happy ending ~8100 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8; Part 9 Read on AO3!   Disclaimer below the cut! again, used for updates too. sue me

DISCLAIMER! PART ONE of the finale! READ THE WARNINGS... especially the last one... Other than that: enjoy my very self indulgent work, filled with my own headcanons and angst galore. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!!!! ________ The next few days became a blur. Tobirama cycled between the laboratory, your room, and the interrogation and information headquarters - just like he had been the last few days. Sleep was scarce, if he allowed himself any at all. 

The pace was dictated by your condition pretty much, which did not fare any better. Quite the opposite. 

Every passing turn, the interval by which they could stretch the administration of what remained of the leash diminished. You, on the other hand were paying a price that was nothing less than your sheer life force, it seemed. The amount of support they had to provide via the seals increased constantly. As time passed, they couldn’t lessen it anymore during your lucid phases, even - rather, only increase it further, step by step. A couple of seals were added when your chakra overload allowed it - as they had not been tending to your injuries from the torture anymore, they gained a little manuverability in that regard. It was not much, but you dearly needed any edge you could get. Both of your legs, arms, your abdomen, your chest were painted with medical seals that each supported your cardiovascular system, retained organs' functions, everything. There was little of your skin left unused. 

It was painful to see. 

“I surmise this is why the Stone did not use the withdrawal as an accessory means to put a victim under more duress,” Tobirama stated utterly caustic tone once. You’d been sedated after they had administered they leash again and both he and his brother were monitoring you while the war inside your body came to a well-known break. “Putting someone under the physical and mental strain of torture while also dealing with the effects of the withdrawal could easily kill a prisoner.” His bluntness hurt him - thinking about how you might be the one dying - but what was the point in sugar-coating anything?

Tobirama's mood was dismal, though his resolve still zealous.

“Indeed,” Hashirama agreed, slightly strained by the focus he’d been keeping up. “Frankly I’m wondering how they managed to not overload the amount of what foreign chakra Y/n could take with how they… injured her and the poor quality at which they kept healing her.” In the end, there was sorrow in his voice.

Tobirama instead felt anger overshadowing his ache. “I don’t think that ever was a concern of theirs, anjia.” In fact, Tobirama could hazard a guess as to what fate would've awaited you had they finished torturing you - had he not found you in time.

They shouldn't call it the Leash - the Noose seemed to be a better fit.

Still, chakra overload was unpleasant - uncomfortable, and to a point medically concerning, too, but lethal? Hardly. That is, if a patient was not in such a grievous state you found yourself in.

Yet the worst was your loss of vitality overall. It manifested in more agonising ways - it wasn’t as though you were becoming more haggard than you had been since the rescue - it was the way your hair lost its shine, the paleness of your skin, the tired gaze of sunken in eyes, the rasp of your voice as wheezing coughs wrecked you. 

Numerous of your organs had begun to show signs of failure more and more rapidly as soon as the withdrawal settled in. Soon, they barely had enough time to recover during the times you weren’t under the effects of the withdrawal - a vicious circle Hashirama monitored closely and one Tobirama dreaded like little else in life. If the balance tilted - if your body couldn’t recuperate enough any more - then your life was all the more on the line. 

Those hours - they felt the longest. He’d pace anxiously in your room, demand updates until Hashirama allowed him to join in his efforts. Or until he did politely tell him to wait. Politely.

Tobirama couldn’t remember when last he had felt so miserable in his life. He was watching you wither away in his hands, in the safest place he could think of in the entire world, due to a decision he had ultimately agreed to. Whenever he was with you the pain in his heart froze his entire being, his breathing was felt as laboured as yours and all of the world was numb besides the plight you were suffering. And he - he had allowed it. And if he hadn’t - if he hadn't… he didn't want to finish the thought, ever.

Worse yet, your consciousness began to wither more and more during the precious phases of lucidity, when the leash spared you from the hellish withdrawal. You simply were too weak to stay awake for long. But you tried. How you tried - and he knew why. For him. Your fierce spirit would keep fighting.

“How… is it going, Tobi?” you’d ask him always, your voice no more but a broken whisper.

He nearly collapsed by your side, the guilt corroding him inside out for not having accomplished his task yet. Every time his hand was under your head to stabilise it some as you looked at him; wanted to look at him - while the other held yours to his chest, stroking it tenderly. “I’m getting there, Y/n. Rest, please,” he implored you brokenly, each time, “I’m here, Y/n. I’m here.”

His heart broke when you didn’t find the strength to quip back at him like you usually would. 

You just smiled bravely.

For all the agony this put him in - all the torment you went through - it only fuelled his resolve to recreate the leash. The extra time you were giving at such great expense he put to good use - and there barely was a time there weren’t some shadow clones working on refining his copy of the leash. The price he paid for this was staggering. Each time he released them, the exhaustion almost floored him. Their experience and memories were invaluable for speeding up the process infinitely - to even give him a sliver of hope to make it in time - but a few days in and Tobirama was forced to sit down before he let go of the very jutsu he devised. Practical, it was. But the toll it took on one’s body was hellish - his vision would blacken, his knees shake and he was sure he fainted a couple of times, too, for the sheer amount of concentration each of his clones had poured into the task at hand. 

Yet every time Tobirama felt he was teetering on the brink of a collapse, he simply reminded himself of what was at stake here.

Hellish became a relative term, then. He paid the small price, he figured. 

And there were ways and means to keep going beyond any physical signs of exhaustion. Tobirama turned to them quickly when the usage of his shadow clone technique became too taxing - various medications starting with simple caffeine to more sinister substances if taken for too long a time. He didn’t care for that risk. Sleep simply was lost time. Needed, surely. He’d catch up, eventually. Because ultimately - ultimately, this whole game would be over very soon, way too soon. Cynically he did wonder sometimes when he’d start to see white mice running up the walls, hear voices whisper or other hallucinations - but his thoughts never strayed from either creating the leash or your current condition. There was no room for anything else. And he was nothing if not focused on his task.

Kimi’s blood samples had been valuable leads in the whole process of making this damned drug. They demonstrated how his alternative had affected her - which wasn’t far off the shot when it came to the muting component of the leash. The disruption only rudimentarily resembled the real leash. Nonetheless, he felt confident with enough shadow clones - he’d continue down this path and start to weave his chakra in better and better to get where it had to be. After all, the result had been promising. Lucky for him, because it did strongly suggest no jutsu was involved in creating the leash as such. It really boiled down to the weaving process and its complexity. He wondered how long it had taken Zenji to master creating the leash.

Weaving - as such it seemed to be a process that couldn’t just create a leash but any other kind of chakra infused drug.

Interesting.

His experiments on the prisoners supported his theory about the weaving further. Progress was exponentially accelerated due to his shadow clones, and as such the intricacy of his own weaving pattern made for better results. More and more, the immediate effects of the leash were becoming comparable to the actual leash - with no small amount of satisfaction, he observed how their chakra became just as muted and sluggish as yours, longer and longer. And with the same satisfaction he meticulously examined every second of their quite painful withdrawal to compare it to your symptoms and sufferings to ensure it’d be exactly the same - the fact the prisoners didn’t just harbor the same dislike for him they did for everyone at the headquarters but rather flat out hated him was entirely beyond him. He didn’t care. They were means to achieving a goal, nothing more. 

Especially Zenji used every opportunity to count down the time to what he believed would be your demise. His perception of such must be entirely broken, as he missed the mark he prophesied would be your end - much to Tobirama’s smug glee. Though he knew better than to let anything on. Bickering with this man - with any of them - was just more waste of time. He simply went in with Ikuro, sometimes one of his subordinates, to brutally administer the leash and start to observe the prisoners and take blood samples. If any of them acted up in whatever ways they could - which wasn’t much, given their restraints - they were punished, harshly. He couldn’t risk spilling these experimental drugs, either. As Tobirama’s patience wore down alongside the remaining supply of the leash - and ultimately, your life force - more jaws were broken.

Naturally, his cold, almost brutal demeanour wasn’t noticed by the prisoners only. More than once Ikuro had to call him off for pushing the limit on what a subject could take - or disagree on continuing interrogation. Things Tobirama mentally rolled his eyes at but never spoke up against save for curt affirmations past his clenched teeth. Ikuro would be well within his rights to stop his proceedings altogether - or worse, report to Hashirama. It was a silent understanding that if the experiments became too dangerous, Tobirama had to stop and provide medical aid to the stone shinobi. As much as he hated it. He had to make better progress. You were paying the worst price.

Unfortunately the leash’s creation proved to be about the best guarded secret of Zenji’s mind - and with how he was biding his time, he was extremely determined to last longer than Tobirama, or rather, you. They gleaned all kinds of information not just from him, but also the other prisoners - the better Tobirama became at replicating the leash, the more effective the interrogation was. He surmised there may be even more complex machinations at work in how this drug worked in a person’s mind, but he had no proof of this, only theories. Not that he cared - it didn’t matter right now. Still, Zenji remained the toughest fortress; he’d die before cracking. Although Ikuro did appear to be more lax when it came to torturing and experimenting on him; Tobirama was not. 

Just like Zenji, Kimi was refusing to surrender what little she knew of the leash, no matter how extreme the pressure. Two of their compatriots had cracked while under the effects of Tobirama’s leash-copy, a victory he did not celebrate at all. It was useless unless Zenji broke or he perfected the recreation of the leash. Anything else would result in your death. Still, it was one of the rare occasions he allowed himself a moment of smugness in front of Zenji.

No more than a sneer did Tobirama give him.

Zenji was fuming. “You think you’re so fucking clever-” he spat.

Tobirama raised an eyebrow and cut him off coolly. “I am. Despite your assertions, I am getting closer to recreating this precious leash of yours every day. And after that, you will be useless, given how your fellow shinobi keep cracking.” The last bit was spoken as darkly as he meant it to be.

Zenji bared his teeth - but not out of anger. He was grinning. “I’m sticking to my word, Senju - I will relish telling you the secret once Y/n died one of the most painful deaths imaginable while you sat by.”

Tobirama knew better than to let the ire that was flooding him show. Zenji’s jaw was barely healing. 

Well, there were other bones to break, though.

“You might get closer to creating the leash, but you won’t succeed, and I’d give my damn life to see the helpless look on your face when Y/n takes her last, tormented breath, whispering your name in sheer agony as life-”

Tobirama’s arm shot forward before he could think. But he knew better than to punch the prisoner again. His vice grip had seized the broken jaw, nails digging into his cheeks to prevent so much as a scream coming out. Only a slow moan of pain. His scarlet gaze was murderous. “Actually, your pathetic life hangs on Y/n’s survival, Zenji. Do you realise that, you very, very clever man?”, Tobirama explained, frightfully calm.

Zenji stilled completely. 

“I care not for something petty like revenge or your fate ultimately,” he continued icily, “but Konoha does not need to feed mouths that are useless to us nor send them back to the enemy to use them against us again. I think you can figure the rest out.” He released him as brutally as he could, turning on his heel. He had to leave before he did more to this man.

Zenji stopped shouting at Tobirama after this.

Even so, Zenji’s words had not rung hollow. As much progress he made when it came to the weaving process, permanence of the effects would not be attained. The more time - really, each passing hour - pressed him, the more desperate he became to solve this riddle - this seemingly last riddle stopping him from creating the perfect copy of the leash.

It was after yet another quite fruitful session of experimentation that he -

“Damn it!”, he shouted, smashing his balled fist on the lab bench after analysing the yield of the day thoroughly. The woven pattern was swirling brightly like it would in the leash, the complexity well fit the real drug and the experiments were showing promising results.

However… “It’s not a damn leash yet-” he breathed through his clenched teeth, swaying back, vision tunneling. He gripped the edge of the table just in time before he lost his foothold. The exhaustion from releasing his clones before had struck viciously again. 

Hitting inanimate objects out of frustration was one thing. Talking to himself another. He dragged both palms over his face. By his current calculations, they had about sixty hours left.

Sixty hours, then they’d be out of leash and your time was cut very short.

Ice flooded his veins and his vision blackened completely briefly.

It couldn’t be helped. He needed a jutsu - or a seal - to perfect the leash. At this point - with this little time left - his previous evaluation of such a technique being an obstacle he'd scale easily compared to what he had done so far seemed quite daring. In fact, how could he have thought anything about this was going to be easy? Even when he had already guessed he’d need this, sooner or later.

Ultimately he started to divide his shadow clone force between perfecting the weaving process and starting to figure a seal out to make the effects last - rather, the disruption. Since the muting component did wear off at a comparable time in his own creations now, it was a fair assumption no technique sealed this effect in. And the way the disruption almost branded itself into a victim’s blood - that was all the more telltale. But how to create a seal that worked in a liquid? Back when he initially assumed such a seal to be of inferior quality due to a lack of external evidence, he automatically assumed it should be simple to create one himself. Now, it almost felt like starting over again - like when he was weaving the second component in. A seal that did not just ensure permanence of the effects but rather only concern a single effect - ridiculous. Somberly he realised actually back then, he simply had not grasped the complexity of all this fully to make such an assumption in the first place. 

More guilt to burden him, ultimately. 

Just as he feared, initial tests proved to be difficult in the way a seal damaged the delicate weave of his chakra in the base liquid. He quickly discarded the approach in favour of starting from scratch - if only the disruption stuck, then it was quite possible a seal was applied before the second component got woven in. That worked better - slightly, if just for the fact the substance was less intricate like this and a seal was simpler to apply like this. Even so, Tobirama could think of a handful of seals to preserve chakra in some capacity. He’d have to take a logical approach: given there had been no outward sign of a seal being used, it must be a simpler one. Furthermore, he knew from your blood samples the way the drug didn’t just cling but nearly branded itself to you; therefore there must be a way for the seal to interact with the victim’s organism as well. That seemed doable; seals followed the rules the user created. Like a string of orders. He felt confident in his skill to pull it off - if it wasn’t for the fact he was trying to place a seal in a liquid substance right now. A seal on a parchment, sure. Medical jutsu that required seals, absolutely. Seals in combat, too - but in a liquid? 

He had no time to dwell on whether or how that was possible. Once more his shadow clones would aid him in trying out different approaches: applying seals to the vial first, weaving the disrupting component in and then trying to seal it off, or even trying to weave in a seal alongside the disruption. The last of the approaches appeared to be more fruitful than the others truth be told, but the more effort he gave it, the less the tender fabric of the drug tore apart for it in either one. The leash really was about patience, a knack for handling very fragile threads of chakra and a lot of concentration. None of which Tobirama could claim he had in great quantity right now. By the end of this session releasing his clones resulted in him losing consciousness for a solid thirty minutes. When he woke, he had a headache as though someone drilled a hole into his skull.

Naturally that didn’t stop him. All three of his experiments were tested right away and despite Ikuro’s concerns to not divide Tobirama’s attention between three prisoners, the man enforced his will by ultimately reminding everyone of the ticking clock. Each passing second made him more desperate and the life of a Stone shinobi less valuable. Even if he lost all three. He still had three more.

“They still hold information we have not yet cracked,” Ikuro warned sternly.

“Testing each of these one after the other is going to cost hours that Y/n doesn’t have,” Tobirama spat back, unfazed. “I’m here, I can use a shadow clone to divide my attention if need be,” he elaborately nonchalantly.

Ikuro crossed his arms. “That’s not the same.”

Tobirama growled exasperatedly. He wasn’t about to explain his own damn jutsu to Ikuro now. “I assure you, it is. Let’s use the broken prisoners, they’ve lost value, if that eases your concern.” The coldness of his tone made clear what he was implying.

Unsurprisingly, Ikuro wasn’t taken aback by his lack of regard for human life. His job demanded a certain detachment from just that, Tobirama figured. “Alright.” Even though Ikuro still didn’t seem quite sold on Tobirama’s plan. The life of a Konoha shinobi still bore greater weight than that of Stone prisoners.

At the end of that day, Tobirama realised his intuition had been right: the test subject with the third method showed a prolonged phase of withdrawal, serious symptoms - serious enough to warrant medical observation that Tobirama left to the unit with clear instructions. He didn’t have time now. Sadly the seal’s permanence was not on par with the leash’s yet - the withdrawal had been fading, too. 

But this - all this, it was the right direction. He knew it. If he gave his all into his and worked with the time he had left, he felt he could reach this insane goal of recreating this drug. 

Following the experiments, he sat by your side that evening while you were allowed a short moment of simple sleep. No withdrawal, no terrors under the effects of the leash. He dared to feel a sliver of hope. No more. Gently, his hand stroked your forearm as his heart ached from watching you. You’d open your eyes briefly and recognition flashed in your gaze - he simply let his chakra coat your network in a warm embrace. Stiffness eased out from his shoulders as his eyes prickled again.

“I’m getting there, Y/n,” he simply whispered, tenderly. 

You gave no reply or notion of having gotten the message. His heart hurt more for it.

Of course he already had a handful of clones working on the approach before he left for your side to join them in the endeavour. 

The final race began after that. Using as many clones as he possibly could, he started to create the leash - really create it, not just parts of it, practicing weaving or trying seals out. This was it - he would need to perfect this procedure until an immaculate result in a prisoner was achieved. Once he tethered one of them to the leash, he knew he had succeeded and could make more for you. The proverbial light at the end of this hellish tunnel kicked his system more into overdrive than any substance he could take to keep himself on track. It was a real high, almost.

Hashirama tried to get him to rest once he caught wind of the fervor with which he worked.

“You’re doing what?!”, his brother near shouted, horrified. 

Tobirama rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. “Get out of here and back to Y/n,” he ordered sternly, not even looking back at his brother, standing in the door of the makeshift laboratory.

Hashirama’s footsteps drew closer, a hand on Tobirama’s shoulder had him whip around with unconcealed fury. “What.” Tobirama’s voice was an infuriated growl through clenched teeth. A warning everyone heeded. Except his brother, of course.

Hashirama didn’t pull his figurative punches now. “You’re using way too many shadow clones, you’re not sleeping and is-” he pointed on the lab bench, eyes wide now as he recognized the substances Tobirama had been taking, “-is that-”

“You worry about your work, and leave me to mine, anija!” Tobirama shouted back with unbridled ire, seizing his brother by the shoulders to start shoving him out. 

Sadly, he was determined to stand his ground, swatting the hands away. “Sure, destroy yourself so the first thing Y/n can do after recovering is mourn you!” His dark eyes were ablaze now. Even for a non-sensor shinobi, the magnificent aura of his riled up chakra was easy to pick up on. For Tobirama’s senses, it was suffocating, like staring into the sun. The overload just fueled his anger more.

“Get. Out.” The heat was gone from his voice. It was a threat now.

Hashirama held Tobirama’s scarlet gaze for far longer than anyone else did. Wordlessly, he summoned a wood clone. “I’ll watch you. You’re not going to kill yourself, brother.” Then, he turned on his heels to leave the laboratory.

Tobirama was floored for a moment. How dare he. Then, he proverbially exploded as the fury burned so bright inside of him, it was painful. “You will do no such thing!” He yelled after his brother, following with swift stomps. “Take your damn babysitter with you, I don’t need one!”

Hashirama all but ignored him and simply kept on walking down the corridor. Tobirama rushed back to the laboratory where his clones were still at work to eye his brother’s wood clone with sheer antipathy. Briefly, he contemplated destroying it - but ultimately decided against that just for the fact that might break anything precious in the laboratory.

That meant he just had to conceal his exhaustion better now. And no more help from additional medication. 

The rush to the finish line of the gruelling race was just as Tobirama had expected it. He didn’t measure time in days anymore but hours you had left. Your condition kept on worsening and ultimately, Hashirama decided they no longer could risk you going into withdrawal at all. That cut back the time slightly, but not much. Enough for Tobirama to not even feel the slightest bit of exhaustion anymore. Frankly during his work he was nothing but sharply focused. It was when he was by your side the emotions boiled up - the ache that teared at his heart, the suffocating sensation of sorrow, guilt. Overburdening protection paired with crushing worry. Your sheer will had bought them necessary time, he’d just make it work now. It was all he could do.

But now, even in what should be your rest - the precious hours in which you may wake - you barely opened your eyes anymore. They were forced to amp the seals up to a maximum of support to deal with the backlash of all the times you had suffered from the withdrawal, and either Hashirama or Tobirama constantly found themselves at your side to ensure your condition didn’t worsen. Every bit of additional chakra your strained system could take went into stabilizing you further from the inside. It was an extremely fragile balance they upheld - but the truth was, in the Stone shinobi’s hands your body had suffered grievous, outward wounds and now your inside was just as impacted by everything it had gone through. 

Your path to recovery would be an arduous one. One Tobirama did not doubt one second you’d walk strongly and gracefully, one on which he’d not leave your side, at all. He still felt tremendous guilt for everything they - he - had been forced to do to you, everything you went through under his watch. Even now, what little time he spent monitoring you, examining your condition, he never let the warm connection fade - hoping you might at least feel that.

That you weren't alone.

Progress on the leash was as exponential as expected. His shadow clones and his own vigour ensured as much. Over and over he perfected the results he produced. Time would not allow for lengthier tests anymore as the better his craft became, the longer a test subject suffered from the effects of his leash. He had to cycle through the prisoners who barely caught a break now, not that he cared, of course. But every experiment needed to start from a fresh slate, otherwise the result might be muddled. What he could do in the laboratory was to compare his own substance with the actual leash - which he did with unmatched diligence. Once a confusing swirl of chakra, intricate and impossible to pick apart easily, he now saw structure in it. With the experience of not just himself but many copies of himself, he now was sure: learning to create the leash might take months, if not years. 

When your hours were down to a single digit, he was unable to find a difference between his version of the leash and the actual drug.

An eerie kind of excitement gripped him. His head spun dizzily from it. Had he done it? Was this it?

Only one way to find out. And no time to waste. They had just a single dose of the leash left to give to you. 

Tobirama turned to what he sarcastically dubbed his babysitter. “Tell my brother with luck, I’m off to the interrogation headquarters for the last time.”

The last time he slept was forty-one hours ago. Involuntarily, at that. Overwhelmed by releasing the shadow clone jutsu, as it was.

The wood clone nodded and turned to leave.

Tobirama used his hiraishin seal to teleport to the interrogation headquarters after slipping the vial into his pocket - he had placed a branded piece of parchment there days ago. Another way to save time.

He headed straight for Ikuro’s office. By now the members of the interrogation unit knew when not to stand in his way - it was the kind of thoughtfulness he appreciated, even though he never uttered a word to that regard. Given the time of the day, early morning, Ikuro was behind the desk. Tobirama didn’t even knock but tore the door open. 

“We need to start another test now.” 

Ikuro glanced up from the document he was reading. By now he knew not to expect ‘good morning’ from him anymore or other pleasantries. Still, this was quite straightforward even for Tobirama’s standards. “You’ve been here last night,” he replied evenly, raising an eyebrow.

“And I’ve made progress since then. I have reason to believe I’ve done it.” Finally.

That elicited a whistle of surprise even from Ikuro, who seldom did more than smile slightly at whatever was tossed in his direction. But a frown followed. “I don’t need to tell you that-”

Tobirama slammed his palm on the table a huffed through clenched teeth. “I know and we don’t have any time left,” he hissed, borderline desperate now. The fact this would be his last shot before you - he refused to finish the thought.

Ikuro’s mien was stony, but he rose to his feet. “Kimi should be most recovered.”

He followed silently down into the holding block. Whatever gazes he might have felt upon him he either was accustomed to or forgotten. Except for Zenji’s stare. The damn, knowing stare. He never looked more than a spare second into his eyes.

Upon unlocking Kimi’s door, the woman’s head raised up slowly to muster her new company with contempt. The last days had left traces on all the prisoners. Like her compatriots, even the mental bulwark of seeming sheer insanity was showing cracks. Kimi had dark rings under her eyes and the proverbial paint was flaking off. “Is Y/n not fucking dead yet?”, she commented lazily, gaze settling on the vial in Tobirama’s grasp. They had long passed the stage of feigned pleasantries, inquiries about your wellbeing, or even Ikuro behaving like a friend towards her.

All of this had become a well practiced ritual the prisoners knew better than to resist. In a way, they had broken them all in that regard.

Ikuro seized the back of her head already and gave Tobirama a nod.

Kimi’s nostrils flared. “Can’t be much longer now. Y’still gonna keep trying to make the leash after she’s dead, by the way?”, she spat, fighting against the vice hold of the interrogation master.

Tobirama walked closer slowly, expression steely. As cold as he felt inside. He always did when he was down here - these people were barely human to him, anymore. Threats like Kimi’s were their favourite to make. He knew better than to react. His hand shot forward to grasp her jaw - her resistance was notably weaker than it had been a few days ago. 

Good.

Easily, his hand could coax her jaw forward to open her mouth and pour only a small portion of the vial in. Ikuro shot him a questioning glance. “I’ll explain later.” Tobirama answered gruffly as he secured her throat to prevent her from spitting anything back at them. She gagged briefly, prompting Tobirama to up the pressure until she swallowed.

“Fuck you,” she spat, but her pupils dilated already. 

Ikuro closed his eyes to get to work. Tobirama monitored the effect of his leash unfolding briefly and with no small amount of satisfaction. The muting component hammered Kimi’s chakra network just like yours had been. His heart beat faster. Swiftly he withdrew to take a first blood sample of the initial effect and continued to monitor Kimi, who had surrendered to the torture silently by now. Unusual. Most of the time, she found ways to spew colorful insults at either him or Ikuro.

Interesting.

The rest of the experiment proceeded just as perfectly. Tobirama felt near dizzy from the nervousness that gripped him and he was surprised to find he wasn’t shaking from excitement when the withdrawal began to hit the stone shinobi as the muting component wore off - sooner than usual, thanks to the smaller dosage, but it still took quite a while. Ikuro wasn’t finished with the mental interrogation yet, but a frown wrinkled his forehead.

“She’s becoming weaker,” he noted.

“I know. Keep on going.” Hell, they might even crack her now with the added pressure. After all, Tobirama was painfully well-versed in dealing with withdrawal effects, and Kimi’s body was not suffering from chakra overloading at all. 

The shift in the dynamic hadn’t escaped Kimi, either. Restlessness was gripping her. “This doesn’t change anything,” she pressed out, breathing laboured. Her forehead was covered in a fine layer of sweat. It wouldn’t be long now until the withdrawal will become painful.

Tobirama ignored her and gripped her throat tighter as he examined more closely. If the disruption didn’t fade he -

“It doesn’t change-,” Kimi choked out again, against the vice grip he held her in. “-fucking anything!” Her voice had become a fine sneer in the end.

Tobirama opened his eyes to find the prisoner grinning, staring at the ceiling with a hollow glance. That didn’t sit well with him. Kimi knew more about the leash - knowledge they hadn’t yet gotten out of her. 

They’d still proceed now. No turning back.

More time passed. She shouted out again a couple times, more slurred than the other before a tremor gripped her body and the words became gargled moans of pain. Inflammation began to kindle inside of her in an awfully familiar way. The disruption was starting to wreak havoc inside of her. Time for the next blood sample, which Tobirama took swiftly.

“Her mind is becoming fragmented, Tobirama,” Ikuro warned, pale eyes opening. That wasn’t good. He wouldn’t continue like this.

“I’ll stabilise her. I need to know if this fades or not,” he answered tersely, blood rushing in his ears. If it didn’t fade - then he’d -

One step after the other. Carefully he let his chakra strengthen each of Kimi’s organs somewhat, only enough to keep her going. The tormented groans subsided if just slightly, and Ikuro closed his eyes again as the haze that surrounded Kimi’s mind became thicker again. So close. They were so close.

Relief did not last long for her. Very soon, the prisoner was deteriorating again.

Tobirama almost shouted from the utter relief he felt. It could only mean one thing. His heart beat so frantically it might as well jump out of his chest at this point.

Ikuro gave him a stern reminder to watch for Kimi again, but Tobirama’s hand had seized the spasming jaw of the prisoner already. Silently, Ikuro watched as he poured the rest of the vial in only to directly continue monitoring her again.

The disruption subsided swiftly as her chakra network became near mute again. Kimi stilled completely, raising her head slowly to let out a drawn-out groan. Her gaze fixated Tobirama, pupils blown wide. There was recognition in it, but in a deranged, wild way - akin to an animal rather than a human person.

Tobirama's scarlet gaze was ablaze, his eyes widened. A low, utterly satisfied growl resounded through the cell - "Yes," he muttered, entirely absorbed in his examination.

Her reply hit like a kick to the gut.

“The leash is tied to a person… and the hand that holds it.”

Right after, her body went limp again as she surrendered to the psychotropic effects of the drug.

Tobirama took a step back, reeling. The blood still rushed in his ears and the elation had cracked like glass that had been put under too much strain. What the hell was that supposed to mean? What was it now? What else did he possibly have to think of? The experiment's result was perfect. 

By all means, this woman was tied to the leash now, the leash Tobirama had created.

He just had to make more of it now - you’d be safe and he could work on a cure. But why was he feeling like his breath had been stolen from him? As though he had run the mile, won the race and yet still had to keep running, or else? His hands trembled slightly as he kept staring down the limp prisoner.

Ikuro cleared his throat. “That’s enough for today. Follow me, Tobirama.” His voice sounded urgent. Startled, Tobirama’s eyes widened slightly, he nodded only.

As they passed Zenji’s cell, the man stirred. “So,” he called out, chains clinking as he threw his body against them. “You made it? Tied Kimi to the leash?” His tone was about as icy as one might get.

Tobirama stopped in front of the cell to give him a lethal glare, all nervousness subsiding in favour of sheer fury. Ikuro stopped as well, giving Tobirama a warning glance.

“I won,” he sneered back, eyes narrow. “As I said, I recreated that little tool of yours.” His voice was dripping with caustic arrogance.

Zenji attempted a grin that looked crooked by how swollen his face still was. “I wonder about that.”

Icy dread was pooling inside of Tobirama faster than he could control it. His mien turned stony as he tried to just not rush in and break Zenji’s jaw again for his insolence. And yet the words were haunting him. Just like Kimi’s had. “You had better start thinking about another way to appear useful to us.”

Without allowing another word from the prisoner, he walked towards Ikuro, heading for the office. Surprisingly, Ikuro shut the door as soon as they were inside.

The burly man cut straight to the chase. “Kimi’s mental defenses were extremely low today,” he began. Tobirama’s heartbeat picked up again. Ikuro frowned. “I was able to glance at her knowledge about the leash. Perhaps she wanted me to, I don’t know.”

“What did you learn?”, Tobirama snapped back before he even realised what words his brain had chosen. His tone wasn’t just stern - it was commanding.

“The Stone’s interrogators use the leash frequently.” Nothing new there, Tobirama figured. With how much effort that went into this drug. He was ready to ask for more information, but Ikuro beat him to it. “However, it seems once the leash is administered to a prisoner, they always receive it from the same creator, or one of his students.” Ikuro’s frown deepened.

The realisation hit Tobirama before he could coherently process the words. The dread that had formed earlier spiralled out into every vein of his body, an ice cold shiver ran down his spine. No, he had not come this far to learn this - all this-

“What does that mean?”, Ikuro inquired when Tobirama gave no answer.

He turned around slowly to put his hands against the doorframe, taking deep breaths now. His head was swimming. This information - all he knew about the leash - it was already pooling into his mind to form a muddied mess that wouldn’t produce a coherent thought.

His breaths were raspy and short. Finally, he swallowed against the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to speak about this. He had to return to the lab. Now.

“It means Zenji might be the only one able to create the leash for Y/n,” he answered, voice dead.

 _______

 He had precious little time left until you needed the last dose of the leash. After that, your lifespan was down to a mere few hours. Tobirama’s heartbeat never slowed down as he arrived in the laboratory, his shaking hands placing Kimi’s recent blood samples in the rack containing a great variety of vials now. His vision was tunneling. 

Only one shot.

Kimi’s statement - Zenji’s following it - and Ikuro’s information pointed towards one thing: the creation of the leash and the following interaction with the victim’s body was such a complex reaction that it didn’t allow for a different torturer’s leash to be administered to the same victim. Why was that? Tobirama could easily guess. With how much time he had spent weaving this damned drug all the little intricacies, the finicky process, it was easy to think there might be different ways to create it. Different patterns. The leash demanded repeated doses of the same drug for the disruption to be muted by the muting component - they were woven together like threads of fabric. A different pattern would not fit. That much his experiments had ascertained, too. 

Lucky for him - for you - he had stuck closely to Zenji’s sample and while primarily trying to imitate the effects of the drug, he had unintentionally copied the weaving pattern of the man himself. That much he was sure of - he had analysed his version and Zenji’s, finding no difference.

Did that mean Kimi and Zenji just thought Tobirama had - somehow - found out how to weave the leash differently? It was a possibility.

He grabbed the blood sample that contained Kimi’s blood right after administration of Tobirama’s leash. Closing his eyes, he began to examine it in great detail. The drug had spread through it hazily, coating it thickly - clogging and fuzzy. Just like it had been in you. No, exactly like it had been in you.

A first wave of relief washed through him. There was no doubt about it - had someone placed a vial of your blood under the initial effect of the leash in front of him and that of a prisoner under his own, he could only tell the difference by the innate chakra signature every body part carried, available to his fine sensor skills only. Otherwise, this was the same.

His body vibrated with tense energy, teetering on the fine edge between nervousness and sheer panic. Things he’d never show to anyone. But in the privacy of this lab - his hand shook, his heart was jumping out of his chest.

Now to the second sample.

He clasped Kimi’s blood sample tightly and shut his eyes again. Examining closer and closer, the disruptive component became obvious - the sharp edges of the chakra that had coated the blood’s cells, scathing as they went, damaging, scratching. Just like in Zenji’s leash. That, also was to be expected - after all, he had tailored the effect as per the example he had been given. 

Then why did he feel on edge? Why was time still running out? Something - something -

He took an even closer look.

And almost dropped the vial when it struck him.

“It’s the seal,” he muttered, shock and frustration fighting inside him as he felt as though he was bursting inside. The way his leash had near branded itself to Kimi’s blood - it was different, in such insignificant and tiny ways, Tobirama would’ve overlooked it. Were it not for the damned comment the lunatic witch had made, the information Ikuro had gleaned - there was no question about it. Zenji must use a slightly different sealing technique in his own version of the leash. 

What would happen if he administered his own leash to you now?

Tobirama groaned painfully, rubbing a palm over his face.

This is a nightmare. It can’t be. You only had little time left until the next - the last dose of the leash. And he had no idea how to even figure out how Zenji sealed the disrupting component of his leash.

His breaths were coming faster now and the tightness in his chest became painful - so painful he clutched the black fabric of his shirt, wheezing. Closing his eyes, his other hand reached for the edge of the laboratory bench for support as his knees shook. Distantly, he realised what the panic attack for what it was, now. Logically, he recognized it. While all the same he figured he did not have time for this.

He had to work now. He had to try - to try and do - do something-

“Damn it,” he panted. His breaths were coming in abruptly, rashly.

His vision tunneled.

He had no time- He had to work- This wasn’t-

Darkness crept from his peripheral reception into the center and Tobirama closed his eyes to force his breaths to slow down. Weakness. This was nothing but temporary weakness he had to overcome swiftly. 

By sheer willforce only quite possibly, he was riding the anguishing sensations out slowly before his body would obey him again.

Then, he grabbed the precious tiny sample of Zenji’s leash and did the only thing that came to mind: to try and dissect it for any clues. Anything at all that might tell him how Zenji sealed off his leash - anything for Tobirama to guess at the process to copy it. He began the procedure much like he’d perform an autopsy on a cadaver: from the outside to the inside. Peeling off layer after layer, removing bits and then cutting them apart into tinier pieces to examine them more closely. Systematically - thanks to his extended knowledge about the leash, there was some of that to his approach here. Of course the leash didn’t have organs like a body did, however since he knew how it was woven, he was able to trace it back this way, sort of.

Zenji’s seal was woven into the disruptive component like Tobirama’s was, intertwined in an intricate fashion he frantically sought to unravel. 

But try as he might - it was impossible. Since there was no ink work - no physical trace of the seal left save for the chakra threads alongside the disruptive component - there just was no telling just how his sealing technique might be working. Tobirama knew this.

He knew - he knew it simply was not possible.

Yet he kept on looking, searching for any clue - until the last bit of the tiny sample was entirely dissected.

And he was left empty handed.

His heart stopped for a moment and ice-cold shock burst in his chest.

Was this it, now? Had he come this far to surrender to this damn detail? He closed his eyes slowly as breaths came in faster and faster again, more ragged each time. The world was frozen. Time stood still for a moment as his mind raced faster into nowhere, while his heart, his heart knew well enough there was nothing left.

Crushing sorrow followed the shock, his lip quivered. Wetness formed under his lids and quelled down his cheeks.

“Fuck!”, he shouted - no, roared as he smashed the vial containing the useless sample of the leash against the wall.

“Fuck, fuck, -” he kept yelling the profanity over and over as if that brought any relief, his hands in his white hair, pulling. He didn’t feel any physical pain - he felt nothing except for overwhelming despair that filled every crack of his mind and emotional pain too great to put into words yet his heart was being torn into two.

He’d lose you - you, the only person he’d ever entrust that silly organ to. 

He had promised you -

After all he’d done -

Limply, he sunk down with his back against a wall of the laboratory, having no idea how he had gotten there. Tears were streaming down his face freely now, he didn’t even make any effort to wipe them off or reign in any feeling anymore. It was all too much. Wheezing and sobbing he sat there for who knows how long - letting desperation and grief crush him like metal between hammer and anvil. Jaw taut as he clenched his teeth, eyes hidden under his palm - he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to.

He had failed you.

And now you’d die. ______ the story isn’t over yet! but i reckon I should be hanged for this cliffhanger. STAY WITH ME THOUGH OKAY!!

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Helping Hand

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Word Count: 3800 approx 

A/n: Big steps today... Hope you enjoy. Also wanted to thank you all we've reached 39 followers. It is very much appreciated thank you for reading. Might post again this this week if not then next week.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.9

Chapter 10: Civil War pt.2

Ch.11

"Why am I really here mom?" You ask still with your eyes closed. "Why don't you tell me… I know you don't want to go back." She says calmly. You can only sigh. "It's all going to hell, the team. I love them all, but they are tearing each other apart." She chuckles. You open your eyes and just look at her. "Well then why are you here with me instead of stopping them from tearing each other apart?" She teases. You change the subject. She lets you though. "My… dad? Did you love him?" You are not sure if you wanted the answer, but you asked anyway.. "Did I love him… tough question monkey." She contemplates for a while. "He was childish, and not in a cute way, at least not looking back… I used to love that about him." She looks back at you, her eyes connecting with yours. "He changed though… when we found out I was pregnant. We were scared and young… but he cared. More than I'd ever seen him care for anything else."

You can't help but tear up at her memories. Then the anger builds in yourself. "Then why didn't he fight for me?" Your sentence dwindles into a whisper. "Who told you he didn't… or that he hasn't?" Her words shut you up right away. She laughs at your confusion. "I'm assuming you're not telling me who he is?" She nods in agreement "It's not my place to tell you." Then again you ask another question. "Did he love me?" She looks down to you and smiles. "Oh… from the moment he first held you. You made the most peculiar sounds… and your tiny hands would grip our fingers" She sighs. "I wish I had more time with you then. I tried really hard… to stay awake." She clears her throat. "But I couldn't fight anymore… But you have to." You sit up looking at her. "I don't want to leave you alone." She shakes her head. "I'm never alone…" now it's your turn to shake your head. "Living your life vicariously through mine does not count." She laughs. 

"I met Dave and Vivian" she mentions solemnly. You almost choke on your own breath at their mention. "They're here?" She nods enthusiastically. "They'll hear about this… one day you'll talk to them again." You groan. "Tell Dave… tell him that I'm sorry. Viv tell her that I'm taking care of all her sisters… all 5 of them." You chuckle. "Just tell them that I miss them…" She nods holding your hand. "God… you were supposed to make it easier to leave, not harder."

Tony sits at your bedside. "Why aren't you waking up?" He sighs. They've tried virtually everything and time was running out. "You can't leave me… you can't just waltz back into my life and die on me." He pleads with anyone who would listen. "You need to know that I'm your dad… you need to know that I'm your dad." He speaks into your hand. Your eyes wide open now. Having heard everything you instinctively pull your hand away. Soon you realize you can't breathe comfortably. It was an all around traumatic experience, tears soon started falling. Tony's initial shock prevents him from vocalizing your state. It isn't until Wanda walks in that she calls for a doctor. Tony stands in a corner watching you struggle with the doctors.

Soon the tubes are no longer preventing you from vocalizing your thoughts; you take advantage rather quickly. "Leave" is all you can say with your voice hoarse and devoid of any emotion. The only thing giving you away were the tears. "Y/n you need to hear me out…" you interrupt him. "I don't need to do anything… LEAVE." You grit out wincing in pain as the words leave your throat. Soon your vitals begin to increase at any alarming rate. Doctor's burst in again, ushering Tony out and sedating you. As soon as he walks out he is met by everyone's expectant gaze. "What happened?" Steve is the first one to speak up. "She found out… more like I told her right as she was waking up." Tony rubs his temples.

When you wake up someone is in the room you can tell. It's almost like you can feel them, without even opening your eyes you call out her name. "Nat?" You hear her walk towards you. You clear your throat. "He's- he's…" is all that comes out and she nods but doesn't say anything. That's when it all clicks. She wasn't looking at you… she was quiet, you only needed to look at her posture and you knew. You laugh. "You knew… didn't you?" Her eyes widened in surprise giving her away, except that it wasn't just her. "Oh… god you're all liars. You all played me. Im so stupid." Your laugh continues; it was cynical with tears rolling down your cheeks. "You're all hypocrites… You sit on your pedestal and preach trust and honesty…" You don't finish the sentiment. Sitting up and pulling at all the wires attached to your body. She reaches out for your hands but as soon as her hands land on your, you recoil at her touch. "Stay the hell away from me Natasha!"

You walk out the room leaving her behind using the wall to help you walk. You made it out to the waiting room and it just broke your heart even more. Their eyes on you, the pity radiating off them. Pietro can't even meet your gaze, much less Wanda. Steve took a cautious step forward, and when you didn’t step back he continued. As soon as he reached you he embraced you, everything came crashing down. The truth would have never hurt so much, and you still didn't know the whole story. You take this opportunity and ask Steve to take you to your room. He did as you asked the whole way there was silent until you made it to your room and he closed the door. “Y/n I’m so sorry…” you cut him off. “No you aren't.”  you mutter quietly. It takes him by surprise and you take advantage of it. “You need to find him… you need to leave before you don't have the chance to anymore.” He can help but ask why. “Why are you helping me?” You turn to him, your eyes filled with unspoken words. “Because I care for all of you too much to stand by and watch you destroy each other. Leave now!” 

“I need to take Wanda and Pietro.” He states and you nod. “I’ll send Clint for them later.” You can't help but to turn in awe of his statement. “Steve you can’t… you can't do that to his family.” You see the guilt in his eyes. “Tony has the government on his side.” Is all he says before he turns and walks toward the door. “Take care Y/n''. Before you know it you’re alone again with nothing, but your thoughts. Soon enough Vision comes phasing through a wall. “I thought you and Wanda talked about this.” You joke wiping your tears away. “Yes, well I thought you might appreciate the company.” He motions to your bed and you nod. He takes the liberty and sits down. “Y/n, I can't lie and tell you that I know what you feel. I comprehend many things, but emotions are the one thing I can't quite figure out.” He states matter of factly. “You played a crucial part in making me whatever it is I am, but what I'm meant to be is what you would say up in the air.” He mentions moving his hands.

“Vision you’re a highly intelligent being with access to all the knowledge you could ever need. I was a kid… a sick kid. His kid.” You state quietly. “I met my mom.” you speak up again. He looks at you trying to decipher what you meant. Your hands motion to your head. “Vision I think that I’m going crazy.” The words barely a whisper as they leave your mouth. “Y/n there are many things that we can't explain… You said this helped you in Vienna. Maybe it’s best not to question it now.” His eyes search for yours, and you nod. “We’ll be a pair of unexplainable beings.” you laugh lightly. Tony not so graciously bursts in as you're about to say something, Vision stands and nods at your direction, you let him go and Tony walks in. “I know that you're angry, and disappointed, and that you probably hate me… but I don't want you to hate me.” 

“Yes, well you should’ve thought about that before you casually forgot to mention that You were my father for half a year. And that's assuming you just found out Tony. When did you find out?” He’s quiet at your question, which in turn answers your question. “How long did you know… how long did they all know?” You look at him shift in his place trying to regain himself, so you let him. “Not long after Sokovia… And I-i had my suspicions before that actually.” He states standing straight and looking into your eyes for any sign of emotions. “The team didn't find out until you had your first episode.” You could tell that he didn't want you to hate them too… Little did he know that that wasn't an option because you cared for them too much. “Is Maya Hansen my mother?” You ask taking him by surprise. “I-I um yeah she was your mother.” He says scratching at the back of his neck. 

“Right, well I’ll be staying here for the time being. If that's okay with you of course.” Staying gave him hope and you knew that. Now you were lying to him using it as a weakness, all to help Steve. “Yeah, Of Course I can set you up with a more permanent living situation.” He says the excitement dripping in every word. You can only nod. “Hey.” You say as he’s about to walk out. He turns to face you. “She’s okay… and she doesn't hate you.” At first he didn't understand what you meant until he remembered what you said after your first episode. Right as he was about to say something you cut him off. “And for that matter… I don't hate you either.” You state quietly. “I’m hurt… I just need a little time.” He nods the light back in his eyes. “Can you tell the twins that I want to talk to them?” He nods and finally walks out of the room. 

Although your words were true you couldn't help but feel guilty. Lying was something that you were not fond of, but neither Steve nor him will take a step back and think about what's best. If someone didn't step in they would kill each other… and whoever it is that comes out on top will never be the same. You couldn't let that happen so if that meant tearing them apart before they got the chance to kill themselves it’s a sacrifice you were willing to make. Then you heard a faint knock on your door and you knew who it was. “Come in it’s open” You say loud enough for them to hear. They walk in and they are a mess just spewing out words out of their mouths… and Pietro seems to be speed apologizing and you can't help but laugh. “We’re not talking about that right now you two… so you can stop doing that.” You say flatly looking at Pietro whose words were now actually comprehensible. “I’m assuming that neither of you have changed your minds on the accords?” You ask, raising your brows. Pietro nods in agreement, but Wanda's silence and lack of reaction are somehow louder.

“Wanda you want to share with the group?” You say confused giving Pietro a look and he just shrugs. “Wanda, you know that we cant sign those papers right.” Pietro asks. She shakes her head . “I’ve hurt people Pietro, maybe this is for the best.” You scoff. “Everyone in this compound has hurt people… Including me.” You turn to Pietro. “She has day two tops before Steve comes for you.” You say emphasizing the ‘you’ at the end. “I just don't want you to feel like you don't have an option, but Wanda you have no Idea what you're signing up for if you sign the accords” She nods. “That's what I wanted to tell you.” You nod and Pietro gives you a small smile. “Why are you doing this Y/n going against your father.” Hearing her say that sparks something within you guilt, anger, sadness. “Because neither of them are going to win, they are too blind to see that we’ve already lost what we value most... Each other.” Both twins are surprised by your honesty. “I’m just trying to preserve what's left.” She nods. “You signed the accords.” She mentions sadly. You nod, taking her hand in yours. “I don't have superhuman abilities, that can be used for bad.” Now you take Pietro's hand as well. “I will do my best to keep you safe. Tony might be my father, but he’s wrong. Take care of each other.”

“This sounds an awful lot like a goodbye.” Pietro quips sadly, you nod. “That's because it might be for a while. We have to keep this charade going till Clint comes for you both. Vision won't let you go without a fight.” You say. “To our luck we have something on your side.” You say smiling pointing at your chest. “I’m going to miss you both.” You smile and pull them both into a hug. They walk out. It's not long after that you hear steps outside your door but they never come in. So you sleep it off. Days passed and you haven't heard from Steve and you were starting to worry. 

Then you walk into a busy bustling conference center Tony looks stressed. He looks up at you and he seems to take a breath. “Y/n are you okay?” He asks worriedly. “Some pain here and there, but I don't think it’s anything serious.” You state. “Where are you going and would you mind if I came?” You asked, he sets his phone down and gives you a look. “You um… You would like to come with me?” You take a seat next to him. “They captured Barnes and Rogers… along with his ragtag friend Wilson. We’re going to Berlin. Pack a bag we leave in 30.” You nod. “Where's Pepper I haven't seen her around?” He nods. “Well, um we’re taking a break. I told her I would walk away from all of this, but I can’t. This is me, not to say it's her fault it’s not.” You nod and give his hand an assuring squeeze. “She loves you, just let her know you love her too.” You say as you walk away.

The flight to Germany was rough… not only were you still tired from the surgery, but it was tense. Natasha and Tony were walking on eggshells around each other. And it seems that she is keeping her distance from you. You try to relax and sleep a little but much like your flight to New York nightmares plagued your subconscious. When you wake up you don't miss the looks that Tony and Natasha give each other. Then you remembered your mothers words, you closed your eyes again and tried to relax completely just when you were about to give up and you heard her voice. “This is where you use the gift that I gave you a while ago, look for the perfect opportunity.” Then it happens again  "Zhelanie, rzhavyy, Semndtsat', Rassvet, Pech', Devgat', Dobro Serdechny, Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu, Odin', Gruzovoy Vagon." Those words. Followed by “Now is the time.” When you wake up Tony is now sitting next to you holding your hand. He goes to apologize, but you stop him and thank him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

After the plane landing Tony explains that he wants to talk to Steve alone you agree and take a step back. You follow Natasha to an empty surveillance room. “I want to apologize for the way I reacted when I found out.” You say when you sit down. “It was not fair for me to take out all of my anger on you.” You continue and you can tell that you fazed her, she was expecting the worst case scenario with you. So it’s not an understatement when she says that she was speechless. “I understand if you don't want to forgive me, or If you need time…” This is the part you weren't expecting. She lunges towards you and kisses you, her lips on yours and you freeze at the feeling. She pulls away hastily turning her back on you. You don't hesitate this time you pull on her arm back to where she was standing... and kiss her back this time your lips moving in perfect synchrony. It would be an understatement if you said that the kiss was quite literally magical. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” You confess your forehead resting on hers. "And why didn't you?" She asks teasingly. "Well I was kind of waiting for that second date. I kinda have a rule." You say chuckling. In this moment you couldn't have been more happy. And there it is again that voice. "Natasha, Something is very wrong." Quite literally mirroring the incident in Vienna. When suddenly sirens are going off all around you. Your eyes meet Natasha's gaze… afraid of her reaction. "You have to tell me how you do that." She quipped making you laugh. Then you see The world renowned Winter Soldier in attack mode. Nat leaves you in the room going to fight the assassin that is endangering your lives. Almost as if it were instinct you hack into the intercom system and repeat the words that were seared into your memories. "Zhelanie, rzhavyy, Semndtsat', Rassvet, Pech', Devgat', Dobro Serdechny, Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu, Odin', Gruzovoy Vagon." You don't even have time to understand how it came out in perfect tongue. "Soldati."

 You watch him loosen his hold on Natasha. The breath you've been holding is finally being let out. You see him mouth the phrase. "Ya gotov otvechat" Suddenly Steve and Sam are there and then the rest is a blur. You feel your eyes roll back and the muffled sounds of steps running frantically. When you wake up her eyes greet you, she was worried you could tell. Your eyes wonder her figure, and then her neck. The marks of his hands taking their toll on her. “Are you okay? What happened back there” She asks. “Sorry…” All you can mumble out your eyes pinned on the marks on her neck. She seemed to notice. She took your face in her hands forcing your eyes to meet hers. “It’s okay I’m okay” Is all she needs to say and you nod, leaning forward, and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I should’ve done something sooner.” Finally taking a look around you don't quite realize where you are. Nat seems to notice. “We’re at the compound… My room.” She mentions shyly. “How long have I been out?” She sighs. “A while, a couple of hours.”  You nod apprehensively. “What happened after I blacked out?” You ask trying to remember what occurred in those hours.   

“Well after your little speech on the intercom… he shut down. Whispered something along the line of ‘Ready to Comply’ then Steve and Sam took him from there.” You nod in relief visibly relaxing. Nat gives you a look. “I know what you’re thinking and it's not like that.” You state standing up. “My head tells me things… my mom tells me things. And I know that sounds fucking cynical but I'm telling you its true.” Nat tenses again her rigid exterior on again. “You said that last time.” She states bluntly. You nod slightly hurt at the fact that she doesn’t believe you. “Last I recall it also saved you last time.” She sighs but ultimately nods. “What side are you on? Because I’m having trouble believing that you are on my side.” She asks cautiously “That's because I didn't take a side Natasha, you knew how I felt about the accords from the beginning.” She’s quiet and you continue. “I’m trying to keep everyone from drowning” you take a deep breath. “I’m a pacifist Nat, and I don't want to fight with you… or anyone for that matter.”

 She nods “Y/n, I have to go, can I trust you to make sure nothing goes wrong here.” You smirk at that. “D’you want me to lie to you?” You can see the amused look in her eyes. “No, we wouldn't want that now would we?” You shake your head in denial. “Well, in that case…” She cuts you off with another kiss. “We’re okay… regardless of what happens outside of that door. We can come back to each other right?” The last part was more a silent plea… to which you happily gave in. “I’ll be waiting for you.” She smiles genuinely and it’s truly a sight to behold, you feel  honored to be the reason that she's smiling. “I’ll see you later then.” She states as she walks out of the room and you nod. As Steve had mentioned Clint showed up later that night. You didn’t have much to do with that by the time you’d made it down stairs. They were long gone. You could almost say the same for Vision, there was something about him now. “Are you okay?” Is the first thing that comes out your mouth. “Do you have reasons to suggest otherwise?” You shake your head. “I take it they left.”

 When you finally left the compound… It felt great. Stepping away for just a minute was just what you needed. Unfortunately for you It wasn't long till you were dragged back in. It couldn’t have been three hours by when there was a knock at your door. The person standing on the other side did surprise you however. Pepper, it was her but something was different… She seemed sad. “Pepper, It’s nice to see you, what do you need?” You say while opening your door and moving to let her pass. “You need to help them…” It's all she says and you understand. “I’m trying Pepper, but they are too stubborn for their own good.” She nods. “How is he?” You take a deep breath. “He’s going stir crazy, but he's otherwise fine.” You state. “He does miss you.” She shifts her gaze, not completely comfortable. “He’s going to need you… I’ve had to do things that will hurt him. It’s going to hurt more when he finds out his daughter was working against him.” Now this made her look back at you, concern in her eyes. “He-he told you?” You nod and squeeze her hand. “I know where they are at...” It’s all that Pepper blurts out.  

[pocket-luv101]

The Elysium Hotel // Chapter 1

Fandom: Servamp Ship: LawLicht (main), KuroMahi (side) Characters: Licht, Hyde, Kuro, Mahiru, Misono

Summary: Licht is asked to help investigate the mysterious deaths and disappearances connected to The Elysium Hotel. The hotel is run by the Servamps and Licht’s ex-boyfriend, Hyde. (Business AU)

A/N: This is a request from cynic-weaver (formally noishedraws)

(Ch.1) //

That morning, Licht received a call from his old friend, Mahiru. They were best friends in high school before he became a pianist. He needed to travel for his job and it was difficult to maintain a friendship with a thousand miles between them. They drifted apart and they hadn’t spoken in years. Licht thought of the others who promised to stay with him throughout his career and how they eventually left him.

Red eyes appeared in his mind. The broken promises they held hurt Licht far more than the others. He forced the demon from his mind and he told himself to forget him. He didn’t deserve his time when he lied to him. After their breakup, Licht threw himself into his music and he spent the next year touring Europe. He recently returned to Japan at his manager’s insistence and he hoped he wouldn’t see him again.

Kranz forced him to take a break from touring because he was worried that Licht would overwork himself. He understood his concern so he reluctantly agreed to take a hiatus. He hoped spending time with friends would be a good change from the hours of practise he was used to. Mahiru had also mentioned a potential job where he could play his piano part time.

He expected Mahiru to invite him to a café so they could talk and reconnect. He was confused when he asked him to meet him at the Alicein’s manor instead. Licht stepped out of his car and he looked up at the regal building. The manor was breathtaking and it reflected the family’s wealth and power. He wondered how Mahiru was connected to the family when he was an ordinary man.

Licht was greeted by a butler who appeared to be expecting him. They immediately ushered him into the building before he introduced himself. He felt suspicious of their secretive behaviour but he followed the butler down the hall. Mahiru was a fellow angel who would never lead him into a trap. He reasoned that the job Mahiru mentioned was connected to the Alicein family.

They stopped in front of a door and DoDo knocked politely. “Todoroki has arrived. Should I let him in?”

DoDo waited for an answer on the other side of the door before he turned the doorknob. Licht leaned forward slightly to peer into the room and he saw Mahiru sitting in the office. He didn’t recognize the man behind the desk and he guessed that it was someone from the Alicein family. Without bothering with politeness, Licht let himself into the room. He promised Kranz he would take a break from work so he didn’t plan to take the job Mahiru mentioned. He only intended to spend time with friends again.

“It’s great to see you after so long, Licht!” Mahiru jumped to his feet and he greeted Licht with a wide smile. He walked forward and he took his hand to pull himself into the office. He gestured for him to sit in the chair across from him. “I’m sorry for asking you to meet me on such short notice. When I heard that your tour in Europe was over, I knew this was the best time to call you.”

“You were vague in your phone call.” Licht sat down and he turned to the man sitting at the desk. He studied him to determine whether he was an angel or demon. While the man appeared to be Mahiru’s friend, he recalled how trusting he was and a demon could easily trick him.

Mahiru must’ve noticed his accessing glare when he quickly introduced him. “Licht, this is Misono Alicein. He’s my friend and he asked me to help him investigate a personal matter. I looked into his situation and it’s too much for me to do alone. I was hoping you could join the investigation, Licht. This must be a lot to ask when we haven’t spoken in years but you’re really the only one I can ask.”

“I still doubt this will work, Mahiru. This man is a pianist and he doesn’t have any experience conducting an investigation. From all the articles I’ve read, he’s too blunt to keep a secret as big as this. If anything leaks from the investigation and that family discovers our plan, my brother could be in danger.” Misono’s words made Licht’s brows furrow.

“Only a pianist? You must be a demon if you can’t recognize that I am an angel.” Licht snapped back at him and he stood to face Misono. His pride was hurt after he had dismissed him so easily. Before a fight could erupt in the room, Mahiru quickly placed himself between the two. He held one hand on Licht’s shoulder and he frowned at Misono.

“No one knows how important this investigation is more than me.” Mahiru said. “That is the reason I decided to call Licht for help. I didn’t keep in touch with him as much as I should’ve but I trust him. You can too, Misono. There is no one else who can help me. Let’s talk.”

Mahiru was relieved that they both silently nodded at him. He waited for them to both sit back before he opened a folder on the desk. Articles and photographs were collected and Licht read the headlines. Actress dies in car crash on the way to the airport. Politician mysteriously disappears. Anonymous donation given to the orphanage saves it from closing.

“I’ve been investigating The Elysium Hotel.” Mahiru told him and Licht had to question how the articles were related to the hotel. The articles didn’t mention it.

“The hotel that is run by the Servamps.” Licht glared at the photograph of the Servamp family standing in front of the grand hotel. Only celebrities and politicians were able to afford to stay there. As a musician, he had visited the hotel a few times. He thought it was a haven but he eventually realized that he was only fooled by its beautiful décor and promises of forever. “The name they chose for the hotel is a little ironic considering the place is filled with demons.”

“Have you heard about the rumours as well? That would save us the time of explaining everything.” Misono asked and Licht had to shake his head. He couldn’t tell him that the reason he disliked the hotel was far more personal. He told himself he would never return to the hotel yet he couldn’t help but be a little curious.

“There are rumours that the Servamps could be connected to several deaths of powerful people. They stayed at their hotel and then died shortly after they left. There isn’t a pattern in the way, some were car accidents and others were muggings. The police haven’t been able to connect the family to these crimes but it’s a little suspicious to me.” Mahiru had investigated many crimes throughout his career and he knew how easily powerful families like the Servamps could evade the law.

“My brother has an event planning business and he’s currently in negotiations with The Elysium Hotel for future business plans. If the rumours are true, they could implicate Mikuni even though he isn’t related to the hotel.” Misono had been protected by his brother since they were young. This time, he would help him. “I asked Mahiru to investigate these rumours. Once we have evidence, we can give it to the police before my brother’s business deal is complete.”

“I have been investigating undercover as a housekeeper. The hotel is too large for me alone and there are places I can’t go. With eight Servamps, it’s difficult for me to sneak around.” Mahiru slipped out a job posting from his folder and he held it out to Licht. “Can you help me, Licht? There is a position open for a musician to play live music in the hotel’s dining room. I can refer you for the job.”

Licht debated what he should do. While he thought it was his duty to bring justice to demons, a part of his heart told him the rumours couldn’t be true. His face betrayed him and Mahiru was able to read his emotions. He moved his chair in front of Licht and he smiled regretfully. “I’m sorry that I dropped this on you, Licht. It must be difficult since you dated Hyde.”

“I stayed at the hotel a few times but I’ve never spoken to that demon before.” Licht’s first instinct was to lie. He dated Hyde a year ago and they wanted to keep their relationship a secret. Between Licht being a famous pianist and Hyde’s family name, reporters would speculate on their private lives. Neither of them wanted their relationship to be picked apart in a magazine.

Mahiru only smiled in response and it was clear that he knew the truth. “It’s okay, Licht. You don’t have to join this investigation but, please, don’t discuss this with anyone. How about we have lunch as friends tomorrow? I do want to be friends like we were in high school.”

For a moment, Licht was silent. He didn’t answer his question and he asked one of his own instead. “How did you know that we dated?”

“I saw a photo of you two together on Hyde’s desk.”

“It’s so difficult to find someone faithful these days but no one needs to be hurt by this photo.” Hyde twirled the polaroid around his fingers before he let it fall onto the bed so the politician could see. The photograph was of the politician with a woman. He immediately tore the picture and Hyde only chuckled at him. “I have others. How would your wife react once she sees them? Sad? Angry? I don’t know her personally but, if I was her, I would be angry and burn your reputation to the ground.”

“What do you want? Money?” The man tossed money at his feet and Hyde wondered why that was always the first thing that politicians jumped to. He didn’t reach for his money and he picked up the torn photograph instead. After years, he thought he would be numb to corrupt politicians and immoral celebrities but they still made his stomach turn with disgust. He was only bored with their reactions and he doubted anything he tried would surprise him.

“A new bill will be introduced in the house to help the homeless. We want you to help pass it.” Hyde pushed himself off the bed to leave the luxury suit. “These soundproof rooms are good for affairs but better for private talks. It’s been fun. You’re staying here for another three days and we’ll be watching you. Be careful on your drive to the house and tip the staff well.”

“You won’t get away with this.” He spat and Hyde merely grinned back at him.

“I hope you actually try something entertaining. The others had been boring with their attempts.” Hyde turned away from him and he checked his phone. His brother texted him that it was safe for him to leave the room without someone seeing him. He ignored the politician’s angry screams behind him and he merely shut the door to silence him.

Hyde walked through the penthouse of The Elysium Hotel and he wanted a stiff drink after the conversation with the politician. He was often reminded of how people would use their power for selfish and immoral reasons. His family owned the hotel and they would search for blackmail on their corrupt guest. They would use the blackmail to force them to help good causes. The ones who committed crimes they couldn’t overlook never lived long after they left the hotel.

Each time he confronted a person with blackmail, Hyde became more jaded. He saw the worst people could do and he wondered if he would meet a true angel again. The only person he would describe as an angel had left him and he bit his lip against the memory. If he could go back to the night they broke up, would he change his mind? As much as he loved Licht, he needed to protect his family.

Hyde entered the elevator and he pressed the button for the first floor where the restaurant was located. He never liked the business side of running a hotel and he would work as a cook and bartender. The restaurant wasn’t open yet but he needed to prep the kitchen for the dinner rush. He didn’t expect to see anyone in the dining area— let alone to hear music.

His heart jumped in his chest when the song of a piano washed over him. Hyde stopped in the doorway and he stared at the angel playing the piano on stage. He knew Licht was the one playing even before he saw him. No one else could impact him so much with a song. He couldn’t take his eyes off Licht and the door slipped from his hand.

Gravity pulled the door close and the sound drew Licht’s attention. He stopped playing and he turned towards the entrance. Their gaze met and Hyde held his breath as he waited for Licht to speak first. He stood from the piano bench and he shut the cover over the keyboard. The soft click echoed throughout the silence and it pulled Hyde out of his daze. As Licht walked to the ledge of the stage, Hyde moved to the spot too. He held out his hand to him so he could help him down from the stage.

“Welcome back to Elysium, Angel Cakes.” He smiled up at him. Hyde wanted to appear confident but a hopeful gleam appeared in his red eyes. The same eyes that had promised him love but dragged his heart through hell. “What brought you back?”

“I’m not your Angel Cakes.” Licht didn’t take his hand. He placed his foot on Hyde’s chest and he kicked him back. He kept himself from falling to the ground by catching a table. Hyde looked back to Licht and he looked into his blue eyes. It became clear that he didn’t return due to their past relationship. He thought of the warm love in his gaze and that was now replaced by his hard glare.

Licht placed his hands in his pocket and he gave the fake explanation he practised with Mahiru. “My manager told me that I needed to take a break from my tours but I wanted to continue playing the piano. This is our compromise. I will play the piano for the hotel. But, know that this doesn’t change anything between us, Shit Rat.”

[aaronhotchnersquarterzip]

Meeting you Flipped the World Upside Down - Or Maybe Just Mine

Here is Chapter 9, I’m going to apologize in advance for the angst thats going to happen from here on out. As much as I love Aaron I stand strongly behind the belief that he just wouldn’t be that great of a partner and my writing recently has been very open about that. I’m not completely cynical, there will be a resolution at some point. Maybe. 

Summary: Reader has been a rut, stuck in a never ending cycle of college worries and job interviews. Never did she think that SSA Aaron Hotchner, or Agent as she likes to call him, would walk into her favorite late night diner and flip her world upside down. And he for sure didn't expect to fall in love so quickly with the soon to be college grad. They navigate finding love and working together to rediscover what that means for each of them.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Love Isn’t Supposed to Feel Like This

The summer green slowly faded into fall browns and reds. The best season, in your opinion of course. Aaron stuck to his promise on visiting when he could, Jack tagging along when he had long weekends. You also drove down when you had the chance, so not as often as you would’ve liked. Halloween was coming up and you were determined to go trick-or-treating with the Hotchner boys so right after your Thursday class you packed the Subaru and drove to DC. You knew Aaron would still be at the office so you dropped your stuff off at his apartment and made your way to Quantico. Jack was with Jessica so you didn’t need to worry about picking him up until tomorrow anyways. 

You parked in the visitor lot and walked into the lobby, going through the rigorous security to get your visitor pass. You were finally on your way up to the 5th floor after 20 minutes. You were practically bouncing with anticipation. Aaron and the team had been on back-to-back cases lately so it’s been longer than normal since you’ve seen him. Of course he called and texted you in his free time but being with him was a whole separate experience. 

When you pushed the glass doors open Emily spotted you first, waving you over for a hug.

“We weren’t expecting you! Does Hotch know you’re here?”

“No, I thought I’d surprise him. I know you guys have been working incredibly hard these past few weeks. I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I came for Halloween.”

“How did Hotch deserve you? Seriously.” 

“He does his fair share of surprises, I’d say we're both lucky.” You quipped back, still smiling. Spencer waved to you from the kitchen and you saw Rossi from his window. 

“If you don’t mind, I’m gonna head up to see him. It’s been a while.”

“Of course, text us how long you’re in town and we’ll try to plan something.”

“Thanks Em.” You climbed the stairs to Aaron’s office and knocked softly. He muttered something along the lines of “come in” when you pushed the door open. 

He hadn’t looked up from his paperwork when you stalked in so you slowly made your way over to his desk. Placing one hand on the desk, leaning towards him, you whispered, 

“Hi honey.” His head shot up at your voice and he broke out in one of the biggest smiles you’ve seen the man give. He stood up and embraced you in a tight hug. 

“I wasn’t expecting you. What’re you doing here?” You tilted your head to give him a soft kiss. 

“I missed you. And I wanted to spend Halloween with the Hotchner men. Figured you two could show me a better time than campus could.” He smiled into another kiss. And another. And another. 

“Let me finish up this file and then we can head out okay?” 

“I’ve waited weeks, I’m sure I can wait an extra hour. I’m gonna go check in on Dave, if you finish before I get back you know where to find me.” You kissed him once more before walking next door. 

“Hey Dave.” 

He was quick to walk over to you and hug you, similar to Aaron. 

“Bella! What’re you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be cramming for midterms or something?”

You laughed lightly, “technically, yes. I missed Aaron and Jack so I took a couple days for myself. Plus Jack wanted me to come and see his costume in person. How could I say no?”

He chuckled before taking a seat on his couch and gesturing for you too as well, “I suppose you’re right. I need to have you over before you head back to campus.”

“I would really like that. I’ve missed DC more than I would like to admit. I thought New York was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life but I don’t know anymore. I’ve been looking for jobs here, obviously. But I’ve also been applying more west, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah. I can see myself out there. I got an offer the other day from the office in Billings for once I graduate, I just don’t know what to do.”

“You need to do what's right for you kid. None of us would judge you for following your dreams, but I’m not the one you should be having this conversation with.”

“I just don’t want to ruin the weekend, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together. I just want some normalcy, for both of us. You know?”

“If I know Aaron, and I assure you I do, he would want to know what you’re feeling. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t communicate what you’re thinking.”

“I know that Dave. I’ll talk to him about it soon, just, not right now.” Of course Aaron had to stick his head in at that exact moment. 

“What not right now Y/N.” He stepped closer and put a hand on your hip.

“Nothing Agent,” that was one way to get him to smile, “you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I can drive and we can get your car tomorrow morning. Goodnight Dave.” He pulled you with him out the door and you called out goodnight as well. 

You and Aaron were curled up on his couch, you on top of him with your head on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat. His hand was in your hair massaging your scalp. 

“Somethings on your mind love, you know you can talk to me about anything right?” He sounded unusually nervous, it felt unnatural. You lifted your head up to look at him and he looked nervous as well. 

“I just want to be here with you Aaron, please. Can we talk in the morning?” He slowly sat up and effectively moved you off of him. I guess you are gonna have this talk now. 

“I want to talk now, I won’t be able to sleep unless I know what's going on in that head of yours. It can’t be that bad Y/N, we tell each other everything.”

“Aaron it’s nearly 3 am, I don’t want to talk about it. Why can’t you respect that. I’m going to go to the bedroom to get ready for bed, you’re welcome to join me.” Before you could fully stand up he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down to the couch. Maybe it was the late night getting to him but you had never seen him this mad. He held a firm grip on you and it’s like his skin was burning you. This was a different man, not the one you fell in love with. 

“We’re going to talk about this now,” he pulled a little harder on your arm now, leaving marks for days to come. “Stop being a bitch and just talk to me. What? Did you cheat or something like the whore you are?” He practically spit in your face.

Scared. Scared was the only word you could formulate. You had no idea how to deescalate the situation, you were hurt and shaking. You somehow held it together enough to flatly speak. 

“Aaron, let go of me. Now.” It’s like a lightbulb went off in his brain, his eyes widened in shock and immediately dropped your hand. Your resolve was breaking and you don’t know how much longer you could stand being near him. All you ached for was his comfort but your brain wasn’t letting you to allow it. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what got into me Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He reached for you but you flinched from his touch. “Y/N.” He was pleading now.

“I was offered a job in Billings, Montana. I’m gonna take it. I wanted to spend the weekend with you before discussing it. There isn’t anything to discuss anymore Aaron. I’m gonna go stay with my parents before heading back to campus.” You grabbed your bags from the entrance way before reaching for your jacket and keys. You could hear Aaron’s footsteps behind you, all you wanted was to leave this nightmare. This isn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. 

“Y/N, talk to me. Please. We can figure this out. Don’t just walk away from us.” How dare he accuse you of walking out on him. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with this man but he made the decision easy for you. 

“I said we're done talking, Aaron. I’ll be back tomorrow to grab the rest of my stuff and say goodbye to Jack. This isn’t easy but you made the choice for me. I love you Aaron, but I deserve better than what you did tonight. We both know that.” 

“That wasn’t me Y/N, you know it wasn’t. I love you and I’ll do anything to prove that to you. Please, just, don’t leave. It’s been a stressful three weeks, I just want another chance.” 

“I hope you learn from this.” You open the door and don’t look back until you’re down the steps, “goodnight Aaron.” You didn’t let him see your tears, he held his at bay until you were already down the street. 

That’s not how this weekend was supposed to go. 

[ephemerlskies]

lottery | pjm

⇢ pairing: reader x jimin

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, fluff, flufff, soulmate au, jimin is a dancer, strangers to kinda lovers to friends?? kinda? to ??? 

⇢ word count: 23.4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, excessive cheesiness and pining, slow burn (prepare yourself now)

⇢ summary: everyone was born with a soulmate and a ring. when your soulmate was alive, the ring would be green. when your soulmate was close to you, your ring would turn white. and when your soulmate was dead, it turned black. yours turned black at the age of 20. your soulmate had died along with your hope. but then, one fateful day, it turned green again. 

a/n: this story went, and i cannot stress this enough, in a compLETELY different direction lmao. i hope you enjoy!!! also it’s partially unedited so forgive any grammatical errors or typos <3

When you were four years old, your mother explained to you that there is a human with a heart and a soul that is tied permanently to yours. That person was your soulmate, and if you’re one of the lucky few that meets them, she said, then you can thank your lucky stars that the universe granted you this gift. Some people spend their entire lives searching, hoping that their soulmate unites with them, while others simply give up or lose faith that they’d ever find their soulmate. And eventually, they settle for someone and love them as much as they can to fill that void. You couldn’t imagine yourself ever becoming the latter of those two kinds of people.

“Mommy, I’m not going to find my soulmate. I think my soulmate will find me! I’m so cute!” You replied ever so hopeful and innocent. Your mother laughed in response to your bold declaration while stroking your hair lightly. Back then, you never hid your excitement for the idea of a soulmate, and your mother told you to hold on tight to your persistence.

“Love finds its way of sneaking into your life unexpectedly. And when it does, it’ll sweep you off your feet just like this!” Her hands pinched the sides of your torso to represent her description of love, and you erupted with a fit of giggles.

When Jimin was seven years old, he asked his father, “Why do you only get one?” The concept that only one person out of the billions of people that walked this earth could be your destined lover didn’t register as probable in his mind. 

“Why would you need more than one?” His father asked in return, to which Jimin huffed. He was young and couldn’t express with the proper words how he had felt. The desire that raged in his heart to plant himself and his love in as many people as he could was something that always plagued him. He carried that burden the moment he fell in love with his first grade crush; Jimin knew from then on that waiting for his soulmate was going to be impossible for him. He would fall in love a thousand times before he’d ever become close to meeting his soulmate.

When you were ten, you told your mother with firm inquisition, “Mommy, I want to find them now! It’s not fair I don’t know who it is. I wanna be in love forever!” Your pout, though cute, was a bit worrisome. She remembered when she was  beginning to grow impatient and frustrated with the idea that out of the billions of people, only one could be your soulmate. She tried to ease your newfound resistance to waiting for your soulmate by saying,

“Baby, what is meant to be will come to you. Your entitlement to love is written in the stars, and so you just have to wait. Promise me you’ll never lose hope?”, you nodded eagerly and held your pinky out with confidence. Your mother curled her pinky around yours. She smiled at the way your eyes pleaded with the universe to send you your soulmate and the way you grinned when offered words of encouragement. 

When Jimin was thirteen, he raced home and said with all the honesty his young heart could convey, “Dad, I fell in love today. I swear I’m going to marry her, I swear it.” His father glanced up from his book to Jimin then looked back down, a small grin surfacing on his face. Though he knew there was no way in the world that could be true, he believed one thing Jimin said. He was in fact in love.

“Be careful with your heart, Jimin. I know you love so hard but don’t forget to protect your heart.” This succinct and thoughtful warning was spoken through experience. He scrunched his nose and trudged off to his room, believing his dad only said that because he didn’t understand. He did, though. Jimin’s father, like Jimin, was in the same position as he was. He loved outrageously and abundantly. It took him many heartbreaks for him to learn to allot his love more carefully. And he wondered how many heartbreaks it would take Jimin. 

When you were seventeen, you gained a comprehensive understanding of the soulmates, and the rings, and the chances of you finding them. They were slim, which was a difficult conclusion to accept, but that didn’t stop your stubborn self from never becoming indifferent towards the idea of finding your soulmate. This unrelenting hope had been instilled into you ever since you were young, thanks to your mother. And every minute of every day, your eyes never failed to check that your ring was green. Each time you peered down, you hoped to see it white someday. But as long as it was green, you promised your mother you’d never lose hope. You did everything in your power to uphold that promise.

When Jimin was nineteen, he experienced the worst heartbreak of his life yet. The words his dad spoke to him years back finally made sense. He still loved, and that love never diminished but it simply was only to be granted to those he knew wouldn’t hurt him. 

Most of your friends and peers were cynical of their soulmate rings, along with most of society. Modern technology and media have desensitized finding your true soulmate with corny dating apps that “help you find the one” and reality television shows that depict the lives of those who have found their soulmates. It was disappointing how commercialized soulmates and soulmate rings had become. The romance that once surrounded the concept of the soulmate rings had been tarnished by the world’s hunger to capitalize of the profits of soulmates and rings. It was common to not believe and a bit expected to lose hope, tragically so.

Your best friend Wheein was one of the few people you trusted in telling your genuine faith of the soulmate ring, and she of course took every opportunity to tease you for it. Though, she always held a tremendous amount of admiration for your ability to maintain optimism. And when she looked into your eyes, she witnessed the same unadulterated longing that your mother had seen for your whole life, and she felt like crying, “You’re crazy but if anyone finds their soulmate it should be you.” She found beauty and purity and everything good that exists in this world, all bundled up in your heart. The way you loved was as infectious and uncontrollable as a wildfire.

At some point, she realized she too constantly checked your ring to make sure it still emanated green.

It was a week after your twentieth birthday. You woke up in the morning with the heaviest pressure residing in your chest. You had no idea what this feeling was or why it was happening, but there was some cloud of uneasiness settling in as the pain grew more and more prominent. It dawned on you a few minutes later, and you felt your heart drop. Your throat began to close as you frantically searched everywhere for your ring. You usually didn’t take it off but you remember removing it when writing thank you letters for everyone who came to your party because the friction of the ring had caused somewhat of a blister along your middle finger.

Your breathing grew short and rapid, and every ounce of you was trying to deny that this pain could only mean one thing.  

“No no no no.” you muttered lowly to yourself, and just as your body was about to become undone with fear, you ran to the dining table to find your ring, “that’s not possible… please. That would never happen.” You didn’t know what denying this would prove, or who you were trying to convince. Maybe yourself, or anyone who has ever belittled you for believing in that ring, or to your mother, or to the promise you made, planted heavily in your heart for all these years. You rushed over to it as your face rose in temperature and your heart accelerated to about 200 beats per minute; it was pounding against your chest so aggressively it felt as if it could have shattered your ribcage.

As you grabbed hold of the ring, there it was. The suffocating, abhorrent color.

Black.

It covered the ring with a piercing and unforgiving hue that drilled right through your heart. You instantly collapsed to the ground. The turbulence of your breath being the only thing making a sound. You brought your knees to your chest and rested your chin atop them. Your eyes filled with tears and the wave of regret swarmed your mind; your eyes squeezed shut forcing the tears to flow even heavier.

Just as the ring was black, your entire world transformed and lost all color. All those years of pining over this stupid ring, all the work and endless nights of staring at that ring telling yourself that one day it would turn white or that it would stay green forever, amounted to the greatest defeat. And your belief in love had been violently dissevered from you.

Your soulmate was gone, forever.

All you could do was sulk in the cruel irony of loving the someone you have never met, never touched, or held or kissed.

Wheein was the one who found you lying in the same spot of the dining floor where you first discovered the ring. She couldn’t express how seeing you so hopeless made her feel. It wasn’t her loss, but her heart broke for you. She walked over to you and offered you a simple, loving embrace. She sat there with you for hours, unsure if she should be the one to speak first. The words didn’t come. All she could do was watch you turn the ring in your fingers over and over again.

You didn’t see it, but she cried the hardest she’d ever cried before, and wished she could take your pain away.

“What do I do now? How do I go on?” you whispered, a thick layer melancholy drowned in your voice. She felt relieved when you spoke then held you tighter.

“I don’t know, but I will love you a thousand times more than anyone ever could. Believe me, okay?” She planted soft kiss on your forehead and pressed your head into the nook of her neck. “This isn’t the end of your story.” You wept into her, and you believed her. You finally looked up at her, doing your best to regain your sensibility, and she noticed the blinding absence of hope; it used to be all she could see when she looked into your eyes. That was by far the most heartbreaking thing she’d ever witnessed. You had lost a piece of yourself that day, she knew that, and every day to come you will carry this in your heart forever.

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but love exists in every life in countless ways. You just need to find the strength to begin searching in different places.” Your mom said.

 Two years later

 Life without the green of your ring had grown mundane.

Your existence had become a routine and instead of waiting to meet your soulmate, you were just waiting. Most days everything felt okay, especially when Wheein was around. She was one of the few people that sparked some livelihood into your heart. Despite there being a small part of you that couldn’t accept what happened, you lived your life as if you had.

Still, you kept the ring. That same part of you that couldn’t come to accept that your soulmate had died was the same part that couldn’t let go of the ring. So, you kept it but never wore it around your finger. You were ashamed, for some inexplicable reason, that it was black. Your mom would always remind you that it wasn’t your fault whenever she caught you staring grievously at the ring. You knew there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened, but somehow you felt this sense of failure.

Eventually, you settled on putting it on a thin, gold chain and wearing it around your neck where you could tuck it into your shirt and keep it hidden from the world. It was a gift from your mother. She gave it to you about a month after it happened, disguising this gesture as a late birthday present. She knew you wouldn’t be able to part from the ring.

Today was one of those days when you couldn’t to rid thoughts of your soulmate. You often found yourself imagining what they smelled like, or if they liked the rain, or what they wore to the beach, or what their eyes looked like when they smiled.  

Your daydreaming, pensive and glum, were interrupted by a ringing. Your eyes found your phone which read, Wheein.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Are you lost already?” You chirped.

“Hey, people change! I’ve gotten, like, somewhat better at navigating.” She laughed, at first not wanting to admit that she was lost, “but on a totally different note, totally hypothetical question, where would you go if you were on 23rd avenue and needed to get to your apartment?” She questioned in sheepish confusion.

“Well, hypothetically, I’d take a right onto Ventura then turn onto 19th avenue and go straight until I got to my apartment.” You tried to hold back a chuckle about to escape from your mouth along with a boastful ‘I told you so’. “My apartment is on the left side of the street, by the way.”

“Yeah, me too, I’d do that too. I knew that, I was just testing you.” She replied, which counted as her special way of saying ‘thank you for helping me because I was in fact lost.’

“Okay, well, could you hurry? I’m starving and that new coffee shop has something like a cinnamon hazelnut latte that I want to try!” Your voice elevated in pitch just thinking about that cupful of sugar and caffeine. You’d like to consider yourself somewhat of a coffee connoisseur, you’d like to, but the reality of your coffee addiction was that you just loved sugary lattes.

Wheein fake gagged in response to hearing the drink you’d described, “___ that sounds so disgusting… You might as well eat spoonfuls of straight sugar.” Every time you expressed your cravings for sweet things, she couldn’t help but wince at the thought of it. You two were mildly opposite of each other which could credit why you never grew bored of one another.

“You say that as if I’ve never done that before.” You said with slight embarrassment, but Wheein laughed loudly upon remembering when you would sneak packets of sugar from diners and eat them in the car or at home. Wheein would quite literally slap the packets of sugar out of your hand while scolding you on how disgusting and unhealthy that was.

“Oh shit, how could I forget?”, she joked, “Also, I’m here. Open up!” You heard her voice outside your apartment and hung up while eagerly prancing to the door. You opened it and greeted her with a hug and she, unsurprisingly, did not reciprocate that hug.

“___, I literally saw you two days ago.” She laughed at how clingy you were, trying to pull away from you.

“Yeah but that was two days ago. Two days!” You rebutted as you stepped back and gestured for her to come in. You closed the door behind her and sat your couch while scrolling through route options to get to the café. “I can drive us, also we’re meeting Jackson there.”

Wheein nodded, “Yeah, cool.” You looked up at her and noticed she was pacing with a face that always indicated that she was contemplating something.

“What’s up?” You inquired with caution. She looked at you with a coy smile resting on her face. She didn’t have to say a word for you to know exactly what she was about to say.

“No…” You interfered before she got the chance to speak, “No, not again!”

“Come on! He’s really really nice and cute and funny! I promise he’s nothing like the last guy I set you up with.” She argued, walking towards you and sitting down next to you. She always had a few tricks up her sleeve when it came to persuade you to do something she wanted you to do. These include, but are not exclusive to, pouty lips, puppy eyes, and non-stop pestering. All of which she used right now. Wheein lifted her hands in front of her chest and interlocked her fingers together in a pleading manner. Your eyes were glued to how cutely her lip was protruded.

“Wheein…” You attempted to be stern with her, though there was no doubt in your mind that you’d give in eventually, “I’m not-“

“Busy?”, she interrupted, “Yeah, I’m aware.” She untangled her hands and flicked your forehead causing you to flinch and chuckle lightly.

“Hey!” You scoffed, unable to defend yourself, “I… I was going to say not interested.” You couldn’t help but laugh at her friendly jab, in admittance that she was right. She only answered with yet another puppy dog-eyed stare to which you groaned loudly. You then bitterly shot her a defeated look that spoke for itself and added yet another triumph to Wheein’s collection.

“Yay!” She clapped her hands excitedly, “Okay his name is Jimin. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about him! He’s the guy that I met during my first year of college and he fell over in front of the entire class when we were doing introductions. Holy shit, it was hilarious.” Wheein laughed to herself when she recalled this but then shook her head to refocus her train of thought, “Sorry. Anyway, he’s a dancer, one of those fancy contemporary ones that does all the flips and stuff. He’s honestly super cute and if I weren’t the gayest women to walk this earth then I would have hopped on that a long time ago.” You had an outburst of laughter when she said this.

“He’s blonde and kinda short but that’s okay because size doesn’t matter.” You were convinced she switched her brain off when she rambled on like that, yet you found her absurdity hilarious. Your eyes widened as she let that last comment slip from her subconscious.

“You’re so weird.” You scoffed back at her, suppressing your laughter and preventing what could have become a ten-minute speech on why yet another one of her bachelor’s she set you up with was ‘different from the last guy’ and worthy of a chance. She nudged you gently, trying to enliven some excitement from you about this date.

“It’s true, it’s how they use it!” She proceeded causing the both of you to burst in a fit of childlike giggles.

“Okay, jeez, I’m already going on the date! You can stop now.” You wiped your eyes and clutched your stomach as it began to ache from how hard you laughed. It was always like this with Wheein, and you loved her for it even when you didn’t show that, “But, in all fairness, you’re right.”

Wheein nodded proudly and smiled widely before rising to her feet and pulling you up off the couch by your arms. You huffed as she forced you from your comfortable spot and followed her as she walked to the door, “Text Jackson to let him know we’re on our way!” She called back to you as you hummed in response and fulfilled her request.

“He’s gonna throw a little fit that we’re late.” You smiled, staring at your phone.

“Yeah, yeah, he always does.”

A few days later, you stood in front of your mirror and stared at the muted pink colored, semi-casual dress you tried on. The pile of clothes scattered across your bed soon catching your attention, none of which occurred by your own doing, but by the same pest that was forcing you on this date tonight. Wheein walked in rambling on about something you didn’t pay much mind to, “So I couldn’t find your red lipstick but I found this pink one-“ She paused and gasped, eyeing you down in your new attire.

“___, I love it!” She smiled, looking ten times more excited about this night than you did. You smiled nervously turning back to the mirror and inspecting it once more.

“You like it? It’s not too much?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you ran your hands along the side of the dress.

“Too much? Please, never.” She came up behind you, held both your shoulders, and turned you around to face her, “Turn.” Wheein proceeded to apply the dusty rose lipstick, her eyes fixed on perfectly lining your lips. She always liked to visit you and assist you in getting ready for dates, knowing fully that you needed that push of encouragement. These kinds of things were always difficult for you, and she tried her best to distract you from that damn soulmate ring hanging around your neck.

“Why do you say turn when you’re just going to turn me anyway?” Your muffled joke was shushed by the girl who was still meticulously filling in your lips.

“Shh, you’re gonna make me smudge it.” Wheein whined and lifted your chin slightly to get a better angle. To this you simply rolled your eyes to sarcastically jab back, ‘God forbid.’

As she finished with your lipstick you spun back around to examine your makeup and hair one last time. You nodded in satisfaction and stepped away from the mirror, checking the time to assure you weren’t running late.

Twenty minutes until the date. Now that you were finished getting ready, there was nothing left to distract yourself from how anxious and a bit unmotivated you felt. You began to absentmindedly twirl your ring in your hand while your foot tapped rapidly against the floor. Wheein reached out to grab your hand, along with the ring which was enclosed in it.

“You don’t have to take it off, ___.” She consoled, softly running her thumb along the back of your hand. Your eyes landed on hers, then you shook your head discontentedly.

“Wouldn’t…” You paused, fighting your voice from cracking, “That would be weird, though, right?” Your eyes fell back to your ring, which reflected that haunting shade. Despite your nerves still being on edge, Wheein significantly managed to ease your anxiety.

“No, and besides who cares? Its your body, you do or wear what you want.” Wheein was always so headstrong, that characteristic often served as a solace to you. “And, if Jimin does say something then, I’ll kick his ass. I’ve got a baseball bat on hand one hundred percent of the time.” She offered nonchalantly, generating a soft chuckle from you. Upon seeing your smile, she continued, “Hey,” you looked up to her, “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s not that I don’t ever want to find love. I do, It’s just- knowing that I lost them…” You inhaled deeply in attempt to yield your tears, “I know I could never love someone as deeply and truly as I would have loved them. It’s just hard to be excited about these kinds of things, you know?” Wheein pressed her lips together and she stared at you empathetically. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed your eyes gently, trying not to ruin your makeup.

“As much as that is true,” She paused, folding over the tissue and drying your other eye, “that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to find love. And that doesn’t mean the love you will find won’t be just as real.” She tossed the tissue aside and wrapped her arm around you, kindly ushering your head to lay on her shoulder. “You love me and I’m not your soulmate.”

“That’s true.” You sighed, finally tucking the ring into the front of your dress, feeling the coolness of it dangle against your chest. “But you are my soulmate.” You lifted your hand to squeeze her cheeks lovingly. She laughed, only allowing you to do this because she was truly proud of you for going on this date.

“At least I know I will never experience a heartbreak so painful as that ever again.” That comment elicited a few tears to well in Wheein’s eyes.

She sat you up and hugged you tightly, running her hand against your back. In that moment, she wanted to tell you that you were so strong, but she remained silent. She then pulled you up from your seated position. Wheein steadied you by gripping your shoulders, softly.

“Hey! No tears, okay? You’re about to go on a date with a super hot dancer with the legs of a god.” She rocked you back and forth gently to loosen up.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.” You groaned and smiled trying to release those sad feelings. Your reluctance to tonight was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to what you thought about dating; deep down, you did want to fall in love even if that wasn’t with your soulmate. You couldn’t tell whether you were disappointed or relieved in your ability to consider settling.

“Okay, well it’s almost time to go! Text or call if you need anything. You remember our code word?” Wheein led you to the door before exchanging one last glance. Your code word was the word you texted her that signified you desperately needed an out from the date. Both you and Wheein have used this word various times for you often found yourselves rescuing each other from awkward, uncomfortable, or creepy dates. Your nerves began to ease even more upon remembering you could always count on Wheein.

“I will, and yes: candle.” You affirmed, then stepping out of the threshold of your door. “I’ll probably be back around 10:30ish? I’ll text you when I get there!” You called to her as you began to walk down the hallway. “Oh, and don’t burn my apartment down!”

She laughed and waved as you turned the corner.

You sat in your parked car for a bit. Your hands squeezing the wheel tightly just like the first time you’d ever driven. You focused on steadying your breathing and shut your eyes. “You got this. You can do this.” You chanted quietly to yourself, “It’s just a date.” You opened your eyes and let go of the wheel. Your heart raced, but not enough to be too noticeable. You developed a knack for hiding how nervous you were when you went on dates, not without practice, however.

As you walked into the restaurant, your eyes scanned the area searching for the man named Jimin. You then felt a hand gently place itself on the back of your shoulder to which you turned a little too quickly. Your eyes landed on a man, who was notably attractive, and a bit taken aback.

He was smiling. The creases around his eyes complimented him so well; that alone weakened your legs.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you!” He chuckled, his laugh was childlike and charismatic and light, “Are you ___?” His eyes were puffy in the cutest way and his hair framed him so fittingly he looked like a painting. Your eyes wandered down to notice he was wearing a simple, white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, and a pair of black, fitted slacks. This outfit accentuated the curvature his legs, which were admittedly ‘god like’ as Wheein described.

“Yes! You must be Jimin?” You held your hand out and he met yours with his. They were soft and warm which relaxed you for some reason. You glanced down to his fingers noticing he was wearing his soulmate ring that illuminated green. Something you hadn’t seen in a while. At first you felt a bit of sadness settle in, but then that was replaced with a bittersweet content. For some reason, you were happy he was wearing his ring. To you that meant he still believed which was oddly reassuring, but it also reminded you that he wasn’t your soulmate.

“That’s me!” His voice was cheerful and welcoming, you felt jealous at how natural and calm he’d been acting, “I already got us a table, wanna go sit?” His hand gestured towards the table and you nodded, leading the way to the table. He pulled out your chair, revealing his traditional gentlemanly tendencies. You thanked him as he found his seat across from yours.

“This is really fancy! I feel like we should talk about something sophisticated like the economy.” You joked, to which he laughed in response. You’d already started to love his laugh. It reminded you of beautiful music, which encouraged you to do or say things to provoke this laugh.

“Yeah, maybe we should order fancy wine too, except I have no what that would be.” He played along, “Can I have your most pretentiously expensive wine? Preferably something with a gentle, floral aftertaste.” He mocked the way those elitist folks would order their drinks. You, being a previous waitress, had to admit that his impression was accurate. You and he snickered at this, and you mind drifted away from the necklace and every worry you had before this date

“Anyone who swirls wine and sniffs it before drinking it makes me wanna vomit.” You spoke between giggles, “One time when I was working as a waitress, some guy demanded he had a crystal wine glass as if anyone can actually tell the difference.” Jimin laughed again, inspecting the glass that stood in front of his plate. He picked it up and held it in front of you.

“So, in your expertise, what would you say this is?” You then pretended to carefully analyze the contents of the glass, theatrically stroking your chin as if you were in deep thought.

“Well that is definitely…” You paused, “Empty, and what a waste to allow such a beautiful piece of crystal to not be filled with the finest, oldest, snootiest wine.” The two of you continued to laugh and joke until the waiter came to take your order.

You cleared your throat to compose yourself. Jimin covered his mouth attempting to stop laughing as the waiter pretended he didn’t see the way you guys had been joking.

“What can I get for you tonight?”

“You go first.” Jimin said, and you did.

This was easy; he was making this all too easy. You thought to yourself as you watched him slowly expose more and more of his true self. You too were beginning to reveal parts of yourself that weren’t usually shown. You wouldn’t describe yourself as a closed off person, but this was certainly much more open than you were on any other first date.

As the date went on, you found it growing more and more enjoyable than expected. You learned he had danced ever since he learned how to walk. And you told him how you’d spend hours and hours outside staring at the clouds for one art project that ended up not even being graded. You and him spoke about the big important details of your lives like your parents and where you lived and your dream careers, as well as the small things that gave you insight on each other’s personality like your favorite song to listen to when you were sad or if you preferred waffles or pancakes.

It was simple, and normal and sweet. You’d never imagined going on a date with anyone but your soulmate would feel this nice.

“So, what’s your thing?” He questioned in between bites of his food.

“My thing?” You paused in thought for a moment, “I really like drawing, obviously, since I help design art exhibits. But I have to say, I’ve got some dance moves up my sleeves.” You answered playfully, and he laughed. You smiled at his laugh as if you’d heard it a thousand times before and your fondness of it increased every time he did, especially if you were the reason for it.

“Oh, that’s intimidating. Are you trying to show me up, ___?” Jimin joined along with your jest.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” You responded flatly despite the wide grin still plastered across your face.

“Hm, I don’t know, I think I gotta see these dance moves. Dinner and entertainment sounds nice.” He suggested, reaching out to lightly grasp your hand that was resting on the table. You wanted to ignore the fluttering that erupted in your stomach and traveled up to your fingertips and down to your feet, but it was too strong to ignore. Your face grew hot and you could tell your cheeks turned a bit flushed.

Jimin smiled cavalierly upon noticing your reaction to this move.

“Maybe some other time. We can’t let all these people know that we’re secretly children.” You laughed, avoiding eye contact with him. His confidence was magnetizing and intimidating all at once; you couldn’t keep track of how many times your eyes wandered everywhere except for his eyes because of this.

“So, does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” He construed from your comment to which you responded by snapping your focus to his eyes, finally. You were met with this affectionate glare, unable to prevent a nervous laugh to fall from your lips.

“And so if it was?” You responded and painted the best poker face you could manage, not wanting to give anything way quite yet. Part of you wanted him to confirm his interest in you, after all his ring was green, not black like yours. It was the giant elephant in the room, and you both were well aware you weren’t soulmates. However, neither of you dared to bring that up. You didn’t know how to interpret his soulmate ring, or the fact that he wore it tonight.

Was it just force of habit? Did he wear it in hopes you’d be the one? Is he put off by the fact that it’s still green and not white?

“Well, I’d be relieved to know you feel the same way as I do.” He said a bit hesitantly, “I definitely want to see you again.” Jimin tightened his grip on your hand, arousing even more butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

After dinner, you and Jimin decided that you didn’t want the date to end just yet. So, when Jimin suggested you two take a walk in the park across the street, you happily accepted the offer.

The night was warm, and when you looked up the clarity of the thousands of stars was overwhelming. Your eyes traced the silhouettes of the trees that towered over you and him, your stare fixed on how the stars danced between the spaces of the branches and leaves. The back of your hand would occasionally brush against his throughout your conversation and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind it at all.

“Favorite movie to watch when it’s rainy?” Jimin asked.

“Princess Bride.” You replied.

“Magic Mike.” He said and you giggled, nudging him lightly with your arm. “I can appreciate attractive men.”

“What’s your pet peeve?” You interjected.

“When people wear flip flops in winter. No one needs to see that.”

“Ah, well then you’d be really annoyed with me.” He looked at you, puzzled and worried. You tried to keep a serious expression but a smile crept on your face. “Kidding.”

He nudged you this time. You didn’t notice that you had migrated closer, or perhaps he to you, and your shoulders bumped gently against each other.

“I hate when people make that gross noise with their mouth when they eat.”  

“Oh, like this?” Jimin leaned his head towards your ear to imitate that sound to which you dodged your head away. He laughed at your disgust. The way you scrunched your face at this sound made him forget about how his shirt itched against his neck, or how he had been a bit drowsy as it grew late into the night, or that he needed to pee, or anything else that would have made him want to go home. You were here, and it gave him every reason to stay.

As the conversation began to die down, he resourcefully brought up a subject that was commonly discussed on dates, “So, has your ring ever turned white?” His question, though heavy, had an innocent intent. Of course, you couldn’t blame him for asking. He had no idea.

“Um…” You cleared your throat for you were significantly caught off guard, “Actually, my ring is black.” Your reply was slow and bore such heartache that subsequently slashed into Jimin’s chest as well. Silence seeped in. You looked away from the sky, dragging your feet gently against the ground. “It happened two years ago.”

“Oh,” Jimin responded. He’d never met anyone personally with a black ring, and a sudden wave of guilt washed over him, “I’m so sorry for your loss, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Jimin. Don’t worry about it.” Your tone revealed to him that it meant more to you than it did to most people, and he felt even guiltier now that this topic was of discussion. He cursed to himself regrettably, realizing how well the date had been going up to this point.

“No, for real. It was kind of a personal question.” He attempted to console you; his eyes never left you. “I guess I never really cared about the ring that much.” To be fair, his was still green so there was nothing much to worry about.

“Yeah, I get that. I’ve been cursed with a hopelessly romantic heart ever since I could remember. I blame it all on my mom. I’m pretty sure it’s hereditary.” You smiled to yourself, reminiscing in the countless times you would tell your mom you swore your ring looked white just to make her happy. You knew it wasn’t white and so did she, but you hoped so hard that sometimes, it did look white. He hummed lightly in response to you. He didn’t want to speak because to him, hearing you talk, even if it was ridden with sadness, was unquestionably the most beautiful thing. More so than heavenly bells or calm tides that washed against the shore.

“I don’t think that’s a curse.” You looked at him when he said this, only to find he’d already been staring at you.

Why did he look at you like that, like he was reading every detail of your soul with such ease? And yet, for some reason, you didn’t mind that maybe you’d become entirely transparent to him. You were okay with being seen by him; and you liked the way he looked at you, warm and gentle and kind and caring.

“I beg to differ.”

“Well, like I said, I don’t think much of these rings.” He glanced down to his own, “I wear it because there’s no harm in it, but I’ve known people who end up miserable because they were never able to find their soulmate.” He looked back to you, noticing how your eyes were glazed with tears. Jimin chuckled softly, to which you, now, instinctively replied with a smile.

Please laugh. Laugh again and again and again for it seems to be the only think that makes the hurt not hurt as much. You spoke this prayer internally.

“You’re describing me to a tee.” You said quietly, feeling a bit ashamed of how many years of pining that amounted to such a heartbreaking end. He nodded with compassion.

“Exactly. I don’t want to invalidate your pain. I can’t say that I know what you’re going through, but I want you to know you have every right to be upset over this. People are so desensitized to these rings, it’s a shame how lowly they are considered nowadays.” It was refreshing to hear such kind words. Every so often, you wished to care as little as everyone else. You could only wish.

“What about you?” You asked tentatively, “I know you say you don’t care much about the ring, but it must mean something to you for you to say that, right?” You tried your best not to sound accusatory but rather curious.

“Yeah. I do and I don’t care. I want you to know that part of me doesn’t care because um, I really like you.” He spoke genuinely and those damn butterflies kept pervading into your stomach, “But I have to admit I do care about it. A part of me thinks it would be nice to find them.” He paused, “I’ve grown to realize, though, that if I spend my entire life only searching for them, then that’s robbing me of so many life experiences. So of course, finding them would be nice, but not necessarily ideal. Soulmate or not, you can love someone. Just because they aren’t necessarily ‘the one’ doesn’t minimize the amount of happiness they bring into your life. Every day I find more and more that love never really runs out. You fall in love with a lot of things. Your best friend, or your dog, or your favorite book, or the way someone’s skin glows so beautifully against the moonlit sky.” He was quite obviously referring to you, and you had caught this. “And no matter how many things get added to that list, love never runs out.”

As he spoke, you pictured Wheein and your mom and the feeling you got when you finished an art piece you’d been working on for hours. There was no denying how incredibly happy that made you. Everything he had said was right.

“Not only that, there are the people who lost their soulmate and still find someone to love. So, if this is all possible, what good would it do to close myself off like that? And you’d never know if your love for your soulmate would actually be better than your love for someone else, right?”

“You’re absolutely right.” You said, and it was all you could say without crying your eyes out. Hearing someone express their ideas of love like that expanded your perception about the soulmate ring. Maybe you had been too quick to ward off any other chance of love that didn’t come from your soulmate. You’ve heard the speech a million times before, but when he said it, it resonated so deeply.

Walking in the park with Jimin that night, you really believed there was a way to love again. You missed that hopeful feeling. “Thank you. I don’t know how you knew, but that was something I needed to hear for a long time.”

Jimin gazed at you; your eyes were soft and sad. He felt this overwhelming impulse to grab your hand and profess that he’d never let anything hurt you like that black ring did. He, too, was a hopeless romantic but he kept that piece of him hidden. You were the one to effortlessly draw that side out form where it was kept safe from the world. He prospected it ironic, almost laughable, that you had no clue.

Be careful with your heart. He’d been repeating this phrase throughout the night but he felt his guard surrendering to you. He didn’t stop it either.

Every bone in his body was urging for him to keep his distance, to not cross the line yet, but his heart craved to kiss you.

You halted when he stepped close to you. You predicted what was about to happen, and the timing of it was exactly perfect, and imperfect; and it felt like it was supposed to happen. So, you let it because you wanted to allow yourself the chance at love again, even if it wasn’t with your soulmate. He leaned in with caution, allowing you to brace yourself as his lips became close to yours. You could feel so much warmth radiating from him. The crickets chirped and the wind stilled.

You closed your eyes as he was about to kiss you until you felt an extremely apparent shock in your chest. It wasn’t painful per say, but livening. You felt as if the part of you that had been dull for two years was suddenly revived. Your mind dared to wonder if what happened meant the impossible. You flinched and jumped back from Jimin, and his face grew worried.

“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, “Did I just read that situation completely wrong?” Jimin’s hand rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“No! No it wasn’t you, I just” You tried to reassemble your thoughts to form a proper sentence but you couldn’t focus on anything other than what that feeling in your chest meant. You knew it was no ordinary sensation. Its feeling held remarkable resemblance of that pain the day your ring turned black, but this time it wasn’t a heartbreak.

It could only be properly described as a surge of rejuvenation that rasped throughout your soul.

“Is there something wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He noticed you were clutching your chest tightly. He stepped towards you in a concerned manner.

“No, I’m okay, I just, I think I have to go.” You half-mindedly glanced at him, and then down to his ring which glowed green. Your longing to see that color shine from your own ring again had never felt stronger than right now. It was alarming how certain you were that something felt different.

He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with his kind smile. “Okay, I, uh, I hope to hear from you soon.” You returned a smile unable to respond to him with words, then walked away to your car. You felt awful for the way you ended things so abruptly with Jimin, but now was not the time to worry over that.

There was only one thing on your mind.

Before driving, you slowly reached to grab the ring and pull it out from beneath your dress. Your hand clamped tightly around it, hesitant to check its color. 

There’s no way.

You waited a few moments, gathering the courage to look and placating your mind which was overflowing with confusion and wonderment. Finally, your eyes slowly trailed down to your hand, you could feel the heat rising throughout your entire body. Your heart raced at a violent speed, just as it did two years ago. Every thought and feeling that ran through your mind and heart was painfully familiar.

Your eyes rested in suspense on your knuckles, turned white from how hard you were holding onto that ring.

You unfolded your hands.

And the ring glowed green.

You were certain you had blacked out on the ride home, being that the next moment you grounded yourself back to reality was when you were gracelessly running up to your apartment. Your hands shook as you fiddled with your key to unlock the door, which became an almost impossible task.

When you finally opened the door, Wheein was waiting restlessly on your couch. She stood up with a bright smile, “How was it?” She then noticed how out of breath you were which was confusing, “Why are you breathing so hard, did you run home or something?”

You walked up to her without saying a word and lifted the necklace. She shot you a look as if you had lost your mind, then looked down at the ring. Her eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth that hung open in awe.

“What. The. Fuck.” She uttered, her hand muffling her voice. You shook your head as you pulled the chain off then placed in her hand. She took it immediately and brought it close to her face. Wheein elongated her blinks to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her.

“Is that even possible?” She asked, her attention glued to the ring.

“I don’t know. At first, I thought maybe it was a glitch? But I felt this weird sensation in my chest. It felt like I was struck by lightening or something.” Your hand returned to where you felt the shock. Your memory of that feeling was strikingly vivid that you swore it’s aftershock still reverberated in your chest.

“___, I don’t think the universe or god, or whatever the fuck that conceived these rings, glitches.” Wheein laughed at your comment, “Thank god for the internet.” She said conclusively, as she motioned you to get your laptop.

You ran to your bedroom then returned with your laptop in hand. You then sat down at the table and Wheein quickly joined you. She placed the ring next to your laptop and leaned against the table with one hand while bending down until your computer screen was in eye-level. Suspense singed the air

Your fingers quickly typed into the search bar, ‘Can black rings turn green again?’

Wheein huffed as you scrolled through the extremely limited results, “It’s so annoying that you type actual questions into google.” You laughed at her impeccable ability to tease you.

“Is that so important right now? Of all times…” You shook your head, finding an article that seemed like a reliable source. “Okay, the Global Institute of Soulring Research says that there are extremely rare instances of blackened rings that returned to green. They’ve only received, uh,” You scrolled down the page, “14 reports of this occurrence?”

“Damn, 14? In the whole world?” Wheein commented with disbelief.

“These rare cases are exclusively due to heart transplants since it has been proven the rings are directly connected to the heart organ. However, there is no explanation as to why only a scarce 14 rings returned to green, while most rings remained black even after a successful heart transplant operation. Researchers theorized multiple explanations of this phenomenon, but none have shown sufficient data to prove why the color changed back. Studies are still being conducted by our laboratories stationed across the world, but scientists are unable to confirm the cause of these rare instances.”

“Holy shit. ___, does this mean that…” She hesitated, “You know.”

“My soulmate’s heart is in another person. That’s pretty much all we can assume at this point.” You said, your voice sounded deflated and unimpressed with the answer the article gave. You stood up and walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

Wheein took the chair when you left and read another few articles and data sites, most of which had minimal information on this predicament, “All these articles are saying pretty much the same thing.” She sounded just as disappointed as you did.

You returned, taking long sips of your water. “So, basically this means nothing? Just that my soulmate’s heart is in someone who isn’t my soulmate.”

Wheein was surprised at your lack of effort to formulate a theory that proved you had another soulmate, “No, not necessarily. Think about it!” She paused momentarily, and upon observing you weren’t in any mood to entertain her demands she continued, “There’s a reason most rings don’t turn green again! It may not be explained but I think the fact that it’s so rare means that your ring turning green again has some significance, right?” Her words grew desperate. You wanted to give in, but this whole situation didn’t feel real.

“And what if it means nothing?” You snapped, your words were abrasive.

There had been so much pent up anger that you had to lose your soulmate. You, one of the few people who never allowed their faith in the ring falter until your soulmates heart stopped beating, were the one that had to lose them. It was so unfair and you never forgave the world for taking that away from you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just” You felt instant remorse for snapping at Wheein. Your eyes grew wet, but this crying wasn’t sorrowful. It was frustrated and demanded retribution.

“I died that day. I lost something that already meant the world to me.” You took a deep breath attempting to calm yourself, “There’s no certainty that this new person would be anything close to my soulmate. I don’t think wouldn’t be the same even if I miraculously had another soulmate.” You rubbed your eyes to clear away the tears.

“I understand that but, it just doesn’t seem like a coincidence?” Wheein urged, her unwavering tenacity found its use now more than ever, “It’s almost like the universe gave you a second chance. A literal, second chance.” You smiled at her, agreeing whole-heartedly.

There was a long silence. She wasn’t saying anything you didn’t already believe; she was merely reminding that you could never stop chasing your soulmate. It wasn’t in your nature to give up like that.

“Maybe, I’m scared. But I know you’re right.” You sighed at your aggravating grit, “I could never be fully content knowing I didn’t try.” This brought a smile to Wheein’s face. “I made a promise to my mom years ago, I want to stay true to that.”

“That’s my girl!” She grabbed your ring and placed it back around your neck. You lowered your head to assist her and lifted it back up. It felt so light and warm, you’d almost forgotten that it wasn’t always cold and dark. Wheein picked up your phone and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you planning now, you evil mastermind.” You tried to see what she was doing but she quickly evaded this and shifted the phone away from your line of vision. You laughed lightly, “For real what are you doing?”

“Sh, I’m calling in sick to work for you.” She responded. You immediately reached out and snatched the phone from her hand before she could do anything of the sort.

“Um, absolutely not!” You held the phone behind your back and out of her reach. She instinctively pouted out her lip. “No! Don’t you use those puppy eyes at me!”

“But, this is a miracle! And that’s not even an exaggeration, this is a literal miracle! Mission: find ___’s soulmate is a-go!” You laughed loudly at this assertion, knowing it well-intentioned and wildly unrealistic.

“Now hold on, as tempting as that sounds, I can’t go rearranging my entire life for this soulmate. How about we save that for the weekends, deal?” Your eyebrows were raised hoping she would yield to your request.

“___, it’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore!” She claimed in a joking, dramatic way. “Certainly, you’re not the same girl who stood up on the cafeteria table and screaming ‘if anyone here is my soulmate you better show yourself right now!’” Her voice raised in pitch as she mimicked your younger self and her restlessness to find her soulmate. Your hand rubbed the inner corners of your eyes upon recalling that day in second grade, along with the years of teasing from almost everyone in your class. Wheein walked over to your kitchen and you figured it was impossible protest that what she said was wrong.

You did change. You had to.

“Well, I’m 20 now and have responsibilities like paying rent, utilities, and buying food because someone always eats me out of house and home! Look at you, you’ve already found your way to my pantry.” You laughed, this had become a sort of ritual when Wheein would come over. She just waved you off, proceeding to look through your stash of snacks.

You didn’t want to get into the real reason you had changed. At some point during the long period of grieving after your ring turned black, you lost that hope. You lost every sliver of hope because it was unreasonable. You missed it dearly, like an old friend.

It felt like that old friend suddenly walked back into your life with no warning. It never asked for your permission or waited for you prepare. It barged in without knocking and claimed its rightful place.

But you wondered if it was the ring that reunited you with this feeling. If not the green ring than what? Or more fitting to ask, Who?

Wheein was about to pass out on the couch before asking, “Oh, how did the date go by the way?”

That question twisted your insides. Your every thought prior to this halted. Your time with Jimin nearly slipped your mind but his laugh rang in your head.

You wished you could hear it again.

“It was good. Really good.” You smiled softly to yourself, knowing damn well what an understatement that was. Wheein was going to interrogate you about this tomorrow for sure but she was already half asleep.

As you were trying to fall asleep, two things seemed to be at war over which would take precedence in your mind.

One was who your soulmate is, and how you knew there was nothing in this world that could deter you from finding them.

Two was the fact that Jimin had single-handedly made you question everything you once believed about soulmates and love.

The next day you woke up to Wheein making some sort of racket in your kitchen. Before you were able to fully awaken, you began to wonder how big of a mess you’d have to clean up after Wheein was finished. This was followed by an incessant need to call Jimin and apologize profusely for abandoning him in the midst of your date. The only thing you could credit yourself with was handling things very, very wrong.

You stood up and sluggishly waddled to your bathroom. When you met with the mirror, you immediately noticed the green ring hanging from your neck reflecting to you. You’d almost forgotten. Your hand raised to touch it and make sure it wasn’t your imagination. This had been too surreal.

Next thing you knew, Wheein barged into your room, “Wakey Wak- wait where are you?” She searched your bed only to find you weren’t even in your room. Wheein turned around to discover you already out from the bathroom and sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh! I made you breakfast! Even though you ruined the surprise and woke up before I could come get you.” Her passive-aggression made you smile. She joined you at the table where a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and two baked potatoes with cheese were laid out neatly.

“I give your presentation an A, but the real test is how it tastes.” You said, then scooping a bite of the eggs into your mouth, “Mmm, B-, they’re runny.” You said jokingly. Wheein crumpled up her napkin and aimed it right at your forehead. “Hey!”

“I’ll take that as a thank you!” She laughed and began to eat the breakfast.

“So um…” You swallowed your food and took a long sip of your orange juice, trying to stall what you were about to say, “Can I have, uh, can you give me Jimin’s number?”

Wheein nearly spit out the giant bite of pancakes she just stuffed in her mouth, “Really?” She spoke with her mouth still full of food.

“I just want to apologize about last night!”

Last night.

“Oh my god, wait I didn’t even ask you what happened! Tell me every detail!” She demanded, still paying no mind to her mouth overflowing with pancake. You laughed and cleared your throat.

Those butterflies came again just thinking about the date. You wondered if that feeling was going to become habitual every time you thought of him.

“I will later, can I just have his number so I can explain to him I’m not a total bitch?” You held your phone waiting for her to read you the numbers.

After she gave you the number while whining that she didn’t like to be kept waiting, you shushed her as you dialed.

The phone rang about four times before he picked up, “Hello?”

“Hi!” Your voice came out louder than anticipated which startled Jimin into fully waking up, “Sorry! Were you still sleeping?” You lowered your voice to an appropriate level.

“Yeah I was, uh, who is this?” Jimin replied, his voice was low and raspy in the mornings. That trait was alluring to you, so much that your attention lingered on the sound of his voice. You then quickly snapped back to reality.

“It’s ___! Sorry to wake you but I just wanted to call and tell you how sorry I am for dipping last night. I swear it wasn’t anything you did. I had a great time.” Your hand nervously tapped against the side of your leg.

On the other side of the phone, you heard his laugh. You were lucky he was one to laugh a lot.

“Hey! Good morning, ___. Don’t worry about it. I’m not as fragile as I look!” He laughed again before continuing, “Are you all good? You had me kinda worried.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was probably just a panic attack or something.” You lied through your teeth. Your palm met your forehead in ridicule of that but you hoped it was believable enough to explain your actions.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you’re doing better today.” His concerned response was comforting. Jimin sat up on his bed now fully invested in this conversation.

“I’m definitely better, thank you. I feel so bad though.”

“If you really feel bad then I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.” He said with a slight upturn in his voice.

He was flirting. You had no success with resistance. Jimin’s charm was enigmatic and had you not only reciprocating his energy, but willingly flirting back.

“Well, I usually charge big bucks for this, but yes, I’ll give you free dance lessons.” You playfully responded, feeling proud when he chuckled gingerly at your offer.

“You read my mind.” He paused. A momentary lapse of conversation occurred causing Jimin to frantically search for any lame, surface level question to ask you so you wouldn’t end the call.

“So, what are you up to today?”

“Well, I just woke up and I’m eating breakfast with Wheein. I think we’re planning on going to the mall later today. What about you?” Your fingers naturally started to twirl your hair. You felt like a giddy middle schooler when they would share a meaningless glance with their crush.

“I’ll probably go to the dance studio if it doesn’t rain today.”

“You should join us.” That response came a little too quickly and you swore you had no idea where or why you invited him.

All you were sure of was that you really wanted him to say yes.

“Are you sure? Last time I went shopping with Wheein she forced me to stop at the pet adoption and we stood there for an hour and a half while she swore to this one puppy she would come back and adopt it.” He recounted but was unable to explicitly say no to your offer.

“It’ll be fun!” You coerced, “Plus, we can eat delicious mall food.” You added with a sarcastic inflection.

“Alright, you convinced me. I’ll be there.” He never planned on saying no in the first place but utilized all the tricks in his book to prolong this conversation. “Only because that mall food sounds too good to pass up.”

You shook your fist excitedly in celebration and laughed at his repartee, “Okay, cool! Let’s meet up around two-ish, sound good?”

“Sounds great.” He said shortly prior to you ending the call.

Jimin held his phone against his chest and threw his head back onto his pillow. He chest heaved up and released a long sigh. Two o’clock couldn’t come sooner.

A month passed since your ring was green again. You continued to hang out with Jimin, however the romantic essence when you were together remained stagnant. He didn’t know what kept you at bay from ever moving things forward between you two, but he didn’t feel the need to ask. He always knew how to act around you even when there was something left unsaid. Your friendship did grow strong and quickly. Jimin felt like he knew you so well already, but yearned to learn more and more about you as the days came.

“Jimin, what’s that one piano guy that made the music for Swan Lake?” Wheein asked as she was scribbling some notes on her assignment.

“Piano guy? You mean Tchaikovsky?” He corrected.

“Oh yeah, great. Thanks!” She replied then mouthing the name Jimin had said while writing it down on the paper.

You returned from the kitchen with three sandwiches, “Here everyone! Gourmet pb and j’s made by yours truly.” You set them down one by one on the table where Jimin and Wheein were sitting.

The three of you had become somewhat of a team. Ever since the day at the mall, you guys made a habit of inviting Jimin along until it was a given that he would hang out with you. Wheein was already nicely acquainted with him and, now that his presence grew abundant in her life, she liked having him around. Not to mention that every time the three of you hung out it resulted in some of the fondest memories. Even though Wheein was just as close to Jimin as you were friendship wise, she was still a bit of a third wheel. She noticed how you two would exchange one too many glances and she’d constantly catch Jimin ogling at you while you were drawing or talking or doing pretty much anything.

Whenever you’d leave the room after a clear display of seemingly harmless flirting, Wheein would wiggle her eyebrows at Jimin and say, “You’ve got it bad.”

He wouldn’t say anything because there was no denying it was true.

“Do you have a band-aid I could use, Jimin? I accidentally cut myself with a knife.” You were looking down at your finger where a small cut resided. Wheein was confused but also quite amused with how that was even possible.

“___, you made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. How the hell did you cut yourself?” She asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, I wanted to cut off the crusts and cut them into little triangles! It’s cuter that way.” You gestured to the sandwiches which were in fact crustless and cut into triangles.

Jimin thought it was cute how proud you were of your PB and J presentation. Before you noticed how his eyes fondly laid on you, he nodded and said, “Yeah there should be some in my room, lemme show you where they are.”

“Thank you!” You followed him to his bedroom. As soon as you entered, you noticed it smelled exactly like him. This prompting you to inhale on instinct; it resembled what home would smell like if it had a scent. You then walked up behind him and waited for the band aid. Though you’d been in his room plenty of times before, you never stopped admiring how nice it looked. Most men have bland walls and bedsheets and desks but not Jimin.

Posters of his favorite bands, paintings, music scores, and pictures were hung along each wall. Your favorite being the photo of the dance team he’d coached for a junior league dance competition. Even though it was completely cliché, thinking about him interacting with children made you swoon. Something about his gentle positivity gave you an inkling that he was great with kids.

A variety of trinkets were placed neatly on his desk and bedside table. When you first asked them what they were, he excitedly explained the origin story of each and every one. Not once did you grow bored of him, though Wheein’s attention was entrapped in her phone not long after he began talking. If you were listening, he didn’t mind.

Jimin turned around and held up a small band aid, “Ah ha! I knew it was in here.” You peaked over his shoulder to discover his drawer was filled with various random, unorganized household items. You laughed at this, sometimes forgetting he was still a man after all.

“Jimin, how do you find anything ever?” You teased. He ignored your carp and replaced the tissue paper you held against your finger with the band aid.

“You’re very welcome.” It impressed you how he’d always know how to dismiss you when you would playfully criticize him. His hands were soft, and it became incredibly apparent that he was touching you. He finished positioning the band aid and seemed to realize your hands were touching too; his heart jumped and before anything got too tense, he pulled his hand away quickly. You nodded and thanked him. Your focus was pulled away from that moment when you noticed a new thing sitting on his bed side table.

It was a framed picture of what you guessed was a young Jimin and his mother. You walked over to it excitedly, leaning down to get a better look at it. “Oh my god, Jimin, this is adorable! Is that your mom?”

“Yeah,” He was giving you that same fond stare. Jimin came to realize you were the type to notice small things like that and expressed interest. These small gestures could easily be overlooked by anyone else, and usually people don’t care enough to make anything of these little details, but not you. You always noticed. Perhaps he was overthinking this trait of yours, but it made Jimin feel special in your eyes.

“Aw, lil’ baby Jimin! Look at your tiny little arms!” You squealed with eyes squinted from smiling. “What’s this one’s story?”

“My mom gave it to me for my birthday.” To this, you spun around and hit him with your uncut hand on his shoulder, “Ow!”

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday? What the hell?” Your eyebrows were furrowed, positively astonished he would keep something like that from you.

“What? It’s not that big of a deal!” Jimin reasoned, rubbing the spot on his arm that you punched surprisingly hard.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I hate my birthday’ people.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. If you had known it was his birthday, you and Wheein would have certainly plotted the best surprise party of Jimin’s life.

“Fine, then I won’t tell you.” He looked away from you coyly, and you laughed. Jimin looked to the ground trying not to get too embarrassed, “It’s true though. I don’t know why but birthdays are so weird and uncomfortable to me.”

“How is getting a bunch of presents, having people tell you how grateful they are to have you in their lives, and getting an entire day dedicated to your existence weird? How could you not like that? I love that!” You shook your head, unable to comprehend how any sane person wouldn’t enjoy a birthday.

“Well, you make a good point but that doesn’t cancel the fact that, one, I hate cake, two, I don’t like people feeling obligated to get me a present, and three, people singing happy birthday to you is so awkward! Like what do you even do, where do you look?” He spoke passionately, making you laugh even harder at how devoted he was to argue this point.

“Okay you’re right. Making eye contact with someone while they serenade happy birthday to you is wildly uncomfortable.” He nodded triumphantly to your response.

“See I-” Jimin was interrupted by Wheein walking into the room and slumping onto Jimin’s bed. You and Jimin turned to her.

“What’s taking you guys so long?” She complained, sinking comfortably into the bed, “Were you guys making out in here or what.” Jimin’s face turned red and you scoffed at her insolence. You knew she was trying to fluster you both in revenge for making her wait.

“Jimin’s just told me his birthday passed, and we missed it and he didn’t tell us on purpose.” You snitched on him to change the subject as quickly as possible. Wheein sat up and widened her eyes in exaggerated shock.

“How could you? I’ve never felt more hurt in my life than right now.” She insisted as you smugly looked to Jimin. He remorsefully bowed his head the same way a child would when he was caught doing something he knew wasn’t supposed to.

“I am at a loss for words. Ladies, my deepest apologies.” Wheein laughed and looked back at you.

“Wheein and I will let it slide this time. We’ll make up for it when you least expect it.” You winked at Wheein then looked at Jimin with a mischievous smile.

“She’s right.” Wheein affirmed.

You loved this. You loved the way you felt around him. You never wanted things to change despite the glaringly obvious mishap of your green ring. You wanted there to be no need to tarnish that. Sadly, you knew that could never be the case.

You and Wheein were impatient, to put it simply. When the two of you wanted to get something done, you both had this now or never mindset. There was nothing wrong with that in theory, however this meant Jimin’s birthday celebration would undergo planning as soon as possible. You suggested the idea of a fun trip to the beach late at night when the crowds had cleared. Wheein loved this idea and expounded upon that by requesting there would be food, but not cake, candles, balloons, confetti, and a decorative set up for the three of you to enjoy.

It was around 10:00 pm by the time you were finished laying out a large beach blanket and a basket of food, along with the balloons that were held down by rocks you had found along the shore, candles placed on tiny dishes so it wouldn’t cause a fire hazard, and a mini speaker to play music.

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees this.” You took a few paces back to admire the finished product. Everything was decorated with extra detail being that you were an artist who preferred things to look aesthetically pleasing.

“We really knocked it out of the part with this one. We gotta take pictures when he gets here to remember all our hard work.” She stood beside you and joined in your reverence of Jimin’s surprise birthday picnic.

You received a text from the group chat that Wheein had made of the three of you.

“Oh, shit he’s almost here! Let’s get in position.” You bounced over to the front of the blanket, as well as Wheein, to hide the surprise from Jimin and picked up handfuls of confetti to toss when he arrived.

You could see his figure in the distance, now growing clearer as he approached the area you had set up. He tried to peak behind you both, curious of what you were standing in front. Before he could figure it out on his own, you and Wheein stepped aside and quickly threw the confetti up in the air. The small pieces of tissue flitted down ornately which tied the presentation together nicely.

“Surprise!” You said in unison with Wheein. Jimin threw his head back giggling and his hands crossed over his heart when he saw what you two had planned.

“You guys! What is this?” He took a few steps forward, bundling the two of you in a hug with each arm.

“It’s just our way of saying happy belated birthday.” Wheein answered, pulling you and him in tighter to the group hug.

Jimin pulled away and inspected the blanket and the items placed neatly over it. His hands cupped both his cheeks and he was so grateful that he’d almost forgotten how much he hated birthdays.

“I absolutely love it. Thank you, guys so so much.”

“Before you start worrying, there is no cake, there will be no singing, and this picnic is kinda our ‘gift’ so technically, no gifts!” You added, walking over to the blanket and seating yourself. You motioned for the other two to join you and they joyfully obliged.

The rest of the night was filled with lots of laughter, long talks, two emptied wine bottles as well as a plate now cleared of all its food, Wheein daring you to run into the water to which you refused adamantly, and exactly one corny speech from Jimin about how much he appreciated you and Wheein.

“A few months ago, I was so stressed and overwhelmed with life. I had this huge fight with my dance teacher and my boss told me she had to cut back my hours because we were overstaffed so I was worried about rent and stuff. If I’m being honest I wasn’t all that great mentally. I don’t know it was rough for a while. Then I met ___, and we all started hanging out and it made me really happy.” He looked down at his wine glass, trying not to get too emotional, “Anyway, I really appreciate you guys for being in my life.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, giving him a partial hug from the side. Wheein pretended to be disgusted with this, but you caught her tearing up while Jimin was talking.

“And we really appreciate you were born and didn’t get scared off by us when we forced you to become our friend.” You said before pulling Wheein into the hug.  

“This is the absolute worst timing but I have to pee…” Wheein huffed as she stood up contemplating what to do.

“The ocean’s right there.” Jimin said, holding his hand out to point to the shore.

“Absolutely not! Not in front of you!” She kicked him lightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll turn away!”

“No, I read this story once about how a worm swam up into someone’s – thing – when they peed in the ocean. I’m not about to have a parasite living with me, I’ve already got you two!” You nodded as this claim was irrefutable. Jimin laughed, never getting tired of Wheein’s hilarious quips.

“We can go back to my place?” You suggested.

“No no no, I haven’t even gotten to force you two to get into the water yet. And its only,” She paused to check her phone, “Twelve. Also, I thought we were gonna stay and watch the sunset!” She tapped her foot against the sand. “Okay, ___, give me your keys. I’m going to quickly drive to the gas station I saw a few blocks down and pee there. I promise I won’t abandon you guys here.” Wheein held out her hand to you, waiting for you to give her the keys. You fumbled in your purse and pulled them out.

As she ran to your car, Jimin shook his head still humored at what Wheein said, “She’s something else.”

“Definitely one of a kind.” You concurred. “On another note, I’m glad you enjoyed this. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t worry you would feel uncomfortable.”

“No, ___, this was perfect.” He said reassuringly. Jimin gazed at you every chance he got. You were looking at the sky and admiring the way the stars shined so brightly. To you, they always seemed to glow significantly more when it was you and Jimin underneath them. He revered the way you looked so in love with the stars, or how you looked so in love with life in general even after what you had been through, and felt his heart race at the sight of your hair flowing gently in the breeze. “You nailed this one, ___.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said confidently as you brushed your shoulders to display your pride. Jimin chuckled at your action.

His laugh. His damn laugh. You thought to yourself and if you could, if you had any ounce of courage, you’d ask him to never stop laughing.

The song “Moon River” began to play on the speaker; Audrey Hepburn’s exquisite voice filled the air. Jimin was aware about how fitting this song with to the ambiance of the night that now only belonged to the two of you. When Wheein left to go to the restroom, the platonic atmosphere followed.

“I actually do want a birthday present.” He spoke quietly. “Dance with me?” Jimin’s nervous laughter trailed his question.

You looked at him unsure of how to interpret this painstakingly romantic request. But, how could you say no when he smiled like that? You nodded without saying a word.

He stood up eagerly and lowered his hand to you. Your hand held his as he pulled you up and stepped close to you. Jimin’s free hand traveled to the small of your back, sparking light tingles that cascaded down your spine. Your free hand met his shoulder; originally your muscles were stiff but the way he swayed you had naturally relaxed you. Eventually your head rested on his opposite shoulder and you felt his head rest gently on yours. As the music played, you felt as if not just this moment, but the whole world belonged only to you and Jimin.

He could have confessed his love for you, but instead he said, “You look beautiful tonight.”

Your heart raced.

“Thank you.” You said quietly after a short while. “You look beautiful too.”

“Thank you.” He whispered. You two swayed along for another three songs in silence, and you and jimin would have danced forever if that were an option.

“At this point, you should just quit dancing because I’m clearing running circles around you, Jimin.” You pulled your head back to look at him, and you noticed it looked as if he’d been crying. However, you didn’t say anything about it because you knew why. You were terrifyingly aware and at the same time in denial about how surely you knew why.

“Yeah, you still never gave me those free dance lessons. I’m not letting that go.” He smiled brightly causing his eyes to squint. You scrunched your nose at him and looked down.

“That’s right. Maybe I should show you some moves right now?” You offered.

Jimin raised his eyebrows then swiftly spun you around and wrapped his arm around your lower back to dip you. You gasped and laughed in shock, your head falling back slightly as he held you in this position. When he pulled you up, you were both unable to let the smiles you had subside. He reached his hand to gently remove a strand of hair from your face, curling it delicately behind your ear.

He was seven years old again. His love raged again. This time it was you who planted themselves in his life and he wanted to give you all the water and nutrients and sunlight to grow in his heart forever.

The boy stepped away slowly and gestured for you to, as he put it, show him your moves.

“Okay hold on.” You retrieved your phone and scrolled through your music playlist to find a song that best suited what you were about to do, “Perfect!” An upbeat 80s disco song began to play.

You then contorted your body in a way to resemble a robot, “Check this out.” You lifted your arm and swung it to imitate a machine-like movement. Jimin found this too good to let it go to waste and secretly filmed on his phone what you were doing.

“I can see you’re taking a video and I’m only letting you do that because it’s your birthday.” You then proceeded the switch to a different dance move, “I like to call this the wave. I’m sure a rookie like you hasn’t heard of it.” You raised both of your arms to shoulder level and rolled them back and forth.

“Wow, your technique is absolutely immaculate!” He commended while laughing so hard he gripped his stomach and bent over. He soon joined you in dancing around in the sand.

“What are you two weirdos doing?!” You both turned around to find Wheein running over from the car with her hands cupped around her mouth as she called out.

“Dance party!” You yelled which was overlapped by Jimin’s voice.

“We’re dancing!”

Wheein laughed as she neared the two of you. “Last one in the water has to clean up our stuff!” She said while passing you and Jimin and heading straight for the water.

Jimin was quicker to react and chased after Wheein, pushing her lightly to throw her off track, soon followed by you racing to catch up. Though you swore you wouldn’t go into the water, you ran towards it with no hesitance. You’d follow them anywhere.

“No fair, you got a head start!” Soon all three of you crashed into the water. The waves were tame, but they still had a slight force that pushed the water as high as your waist.

Wheein pulled you in deeper and Jimin splashed the water at you two. You both screamed and laughed and played like children.

You wished that night would never end.

The minute you decided to tell him your ring was green again; you knew things would have to change and you dreaded it. It grew increasingly difficult to keep that from him and a part of you felt like you were misleading him by not telling him the truth.

“I owe it to him. I don’t know exactly what’s going on between the two of us. I clearly think of him as more of than friend. I’m not denying that, but you know I can’t do anything about that, not with this.” You’d say as you held up your ring for reference.

“You don’t have you. You could just let things play out and hope for the best?” Wheein suggested knowing this wouldn’t suffice.

“I can tell he likes me more than a friend. I can see it every time he looks at me with those puppy eyes.” You gave her a disapproving look and she nodded.

“I know you’re right. I just don’t want Jimin to be too hurt, you know? The guy is a softie at heart.”

She was right. Jimin would act like nothing ever affected him, but out of the three of you, he was the most sensitive and experienced his feelings the most intensely. Just the idea of what his face would look like or how his smile would dwindle when you told him about your ring made your heart drop to your stomach. There was no way to avoid this, because like you said, you owe Jimin complete honesty and you refused to abstain anything less than what was best for him.

“I know, and I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for doing this.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He’s a softie, but so are you. ___, I’m worried about you too. Are you sure letting this go is the right decision? I can tell you’re already starting to miss him and you haven’t even let him go yet.” She placed her hand on your back to comfort you. Wheein knew you well enough that she didn’t have to ask how you were feeling.

“I appreciate your concern, but I have to do this.” Anticipation began to seep through your veins. “Right? I mean my whole life I’ve been dedicated to ending up with my soulmate. I’ve ended things with so many guys before things got too serious. And I had no problem doing it then, but this time.” You began to tear up picturing Jimin, “It’s so much harder.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. That’s up for you to decide but I hope you know I will support your decision. Whichever it is.” Wheein pulled you into a hug, soft and reassuring. You propped your chin on her shoulder and ran your hands along her upper back.

“Thank you.” You said quietly.

As you pulled away, you looked down at your ring and for once, you didn’t feel that excitement upon seeing it green. Instead, it became burdensome that you felt this obligation to honor it. You were beginning to feel trapped. As if this decision wasn’t up to you anymore, but to this ring.

A few days later, you and Jimin were sitting out in the same park that you walked along on your first date together. The grass danced with the wind and the tree that loomed above the two of you provided the perfect amount of shade from the sun. Gentle rays of sunlight permeated among the leaves and their shadows danced along yours and Jimin’s bodies. The air felt clean and cool, giving perfect ambiance to spark inspiration for your artwork.

Jimin was laying down beside you, staring up at the sky while you two chatted nonsensically for hours.

“I’ll give you five bucks if you can guess what kind of bird just chirped.” He spoke lazily while his eyes trailed their way to you.

“Ostrich.” Your replied with a candid tone and your eyes transfixed on the page in front of you. Jimin chuckled lightly which diverted your attention to him as it always did.

“Just for that I’m eating the rest of your blueberries.” He shoved all of them in his mouth causing his cheeks to puff out. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find that adorable, and yet you played it off with a unimpressed glare.

“I was gonna eat those, butthead.”

These small exchanges would fill the silence every so often. But even when neither of you spoke, you felt no desire to say anything. Just sitting with him in that park was enough to delight you.

You stared at Jimin as his eyes traced the puffy clouds above. With your pencil in hand, inspiration struck. This scenery was so picturesque, it would be a crime to not capture every bit of joy it exuded.

You turned to a blank page in your sketchbook and started to outline the shape of Jimin’s face and body. Your pencil glided against the paper gently, that sound of charcoal running along the pages of your sketchbook grew fond to Jimin’s ears. He rarely looked at what you would draw because he knew your sketchbook functioned as your version of a diary; he simply loved that sound because it meant you were beside him.

You quickly sketched each curve of his body along with the bed of grass on which he lied and the tall tree behind him with as much precision as you could before he shifted positions. Then you began to add shading and small details that livened the drawing a bit more. Once you were finished, you held your finished work out to examine whether you were satisfied with it. You nodded to yourself then nudged Jimin.

He turned his head towards you and raised his eyebrows in substitution of a vocal acknowledgment.

“Look.” You gently tossed your book onto the grass near his head.

He quickly sat up and lifted the book with both hands. He rested it on his lap and gazed at it for quite a while. A smile slowly appeared on Jimin’s face and he thought to himself how beautifully accurate you were at being able to capture these moments in life. This moment was precious to him, along with every other moment he spent with you doing nothing.

And those nothing moments were everything to him. They were everything to you too.

“___, you never cease to blow me away.” Jimin spoke in a whisper because he only wanted you to hear. He wanted so desperately to kiss you.

Oh god, your conscious couldn’t handle keeping it in anymore. You had to tell him.

“So um, Jimin. I don’t know how to say this…” You laughed nervously due to how uncomfortable you were with this even before the conversation started.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, and before he could realize what was about to be said was going to be serious, he said, “I know what you’re going to say. You lied and totally didn’t watch the movie I recommended to you!”, earning a soft chuckle from you. It substantially lighted the mood. He tied with Wheein for always knowing how to ease your nerves without even trying.

But your face returned blank when you finally gathered the courage to blurt it out, “My ring turned green again.”

His smile vanished and it was an absolute tragedy you were the reason for that.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin.” He knew what this meant. He knew what you were going to say before you even said it. He stood up and paced around the area, prompting you to get up and trail behind him. He had a habit of lacking the ability to sit still when he was facing something that troubled him.

He struggled to figure out what he felt about this. Every emotion blurred and converged into one unsettling mess.

“I’m not going to pretend like this is easy for me because its not. I like you and spending time with you has made me so so happy, please believe me when I say that.” Your voice began to shake. Jimin hated when your voice sounded anything but cheerful.

“I know it sounds like bullshit, but I’m being honest, god, I can’t convey how much you mean to me. I know we only met months ago but I feel like what we have isn’t some fling. Like, you’re already one of my best friends.” Those words, though consoling in theory, pained Jimin so deeply. He wanted to be more than that.

“I don’t think of you as some back up to keep me from being lonely if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d be damned before I let you believe that, but I can’t just ignore-” The hundreds of things you were practicing in your head had spilled out of your mouth in a jumbled mess. It was much more difficult to say these things to Jimin than your bathroom mirror or Wheein.

“Stop,” He spoke with such poise that you did nothing more but obey. His footsteps halted and You pressed your lips together in fear of what was about to be said. He was staring at the grass, the green color mocked him. Jimin hated green right now.

It pained you to see he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you.

He’s going to hate you forever. You thought to yourself and you tried to brace your heart for losing him forever. All because you lacked the backbone to be honest with him from the beginning.

He didn’t speak for a while, for what felt like an eternity. The wind that whipped against the leaves of the trees and blades of grass filling the silence you were once comfortable in.

Jimin suddenly turned around and wrapped his arms around you; your head was pressed tightly against his chest and his chin rested gently atop your head so perfectly. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, each tap synchronized with your heart.

“You idiot, why are you apologizing?” Your eyes closed to obstruct any tears that were about to form.

“You know why.” Your words were muffled, which Jimin found tortuously adorable. “You can hate me if you want.”

He laughed softly, that alone expressed more to you than any number of things he could say.

The sound of his laugh that you’d grown to miss on the days you hadn’t seen him never sounded so beautiful. When he laughed, he painted himself on a canvas for you to admire and with each stroke he added, you were able to learn every intricate detail of him.

Jimin’s laughter spoke to you, you swore it. You clearly heard it tell you that he could never and would never hate you. Comfort and ease. You never felt anything less than comfort and ease in his arms.

“___, I know how much this means to you.” He planted a soft kiss against your head which felt like a goodbye. Not to you, but to the hope that he could ever take the place of your soulmate. The smell of your hair exuding off so gently, and he thought you smelled like vanilla and stardust. Jimin did everything he could to sound strong. He wanted nothing but to be happy for you, and if this meant he had to let you chase after your soulmate there was no way in the world he’d let his feelings stop you from doing that. “I’m already planning a want ad that will be posted on every building within a hundred-mile radius!” His voice rose in enthusiasm. You could tell it was all a façade.

“You don’t have to act like you’re okay.” Your head nestled against his chest.

“I am.” He quickly replied then repeated, “I am.”

If only he could have made this easier on you. If he would have gotten mad or yelled at you or said he would never forgive you then doing this wouldn’t hurt as much as it did. But he did none of that. He was ever so kind and understanding and selfless.

You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest as a cross between a sigh and a laugh released from you. He acted like he didn’t care that you had just “broken up” with him. Jimin was nothing if not selfless.

Your ring was green. You had another chance to find your soulmate; it was everything you’d ever hoped for your whole life. So, why did you feel like you’d just made a mistake?

“Jimin, I know I hurt you. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to lose you. I just,” You huffed, “I just should have been honest. I’m sincerely sorry. You are the last person I want to hurt.” Jimin looked down at you and you stared up at him. He couldn’t stand when you frowned, which inclined him to use his thumbs to lift the sides of your mouth, so it looked like you were smiling. You laughed at this sweet gesture.

“This soulmate of yours better not be a dancer or we’ll have a problem.” He joked in attempt to evade how true what you said was. You threw your head back laughing again.

All Jimin really cared about was that you were always in his life. And even though it felt like you had ripped every root of yourself out of him, he knew he would keep that spot in his heart empty for you. 

For you, and every nothing moment. Nothing was everything with you,

You were completely drenched in sweat and jolted awake from your sleep. Your first instinct was to call Wheein, but you remembered she had an exam the next day.

You then picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You pressed the call button with your thumb and brought the phone to your ear.

The phone rang shortly before being picked up, “Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.” You greeted her softly. Her voice was soothing and low.

“What’s wrong, honey?” She asked since it was late in the night and you calling her only meant it was fairly important.

“I just had this really weird dream.” You answered, still perplexed and trying to remember the details of it. You shut your eyes to picture the dream before it faded from your memory, “I was in art class and we were doing this activity where we had to close our eyes and draw something that made us happy. It was something to like exercise our skills of drawing with emotion rather than precision, something like that.” She hummed, listening intently to what you were describing.

“Okay, and so I did it and I wanted to draw what I imagined my soulmate would look like because duh, you know me.” You stood up and paced around your dark room.

“Yes, that sounds about right.” Your mother chuckled softly while she quipped back to you.

“Okay but when I opened my eyes you would not believe who I drew.” You stopped for a second envisioning the face that stared back to you. It made you tense just thinking about it.

“Who?”

“It was Jimin.”

“Jimin? That nice young man you’ve been hanging out with recently. I think you’re absolutely smitten, honey.” Your mom sounded so casual when saying this.

“But…” Your pacing began to speed up, “He’s not my soulmate. I- I don’t know what to think of this. Maybe it’s just my brain? It’s not like you can control what you dream.” You began to ramble in attempts to affirm this didn’t mean anything serious.

“I don’t know, ___. That is an oddly specific dream.” She sounded critical of your aversion to admit this. “Why not give him a chance?” She suggested hesitantly.

“What?” You scoffed in amazement, “I can’t believe you out of all people would say that.” You knew that she knew exactly where your confusion was coming from.

“I know.”

“So why would you say that? I mean, finding my soulmate was something both you and I wanted ever since I could remember?” You grew exhausted from your pacing and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Look. I wanted you to believe in your soulmate. You’re right in that, but it wasn’t just your soulmate I wanted you to believe in. All I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, was for you to never give up love itself. This world has a way of breaking your heart countless times, and I’ve been around enough to see how empty people’s lives are if they live without love in it. I just wanted to teach you that living a loveless life was meaningless. I refused to allow you to live a meaningless life. I thought that your soulmate ring would act as a reminder that I loved you and I believe you deserved to be loved, but it grew into some dependence on finding your soulmate. ___, when your ring turned black, I realized my mistake. I shouldn’t have glorified the ring as much as I did because ring, or no ring, soulmate, or no soulmate, there is no denying that you have feelings Jimin. I can hear it in your voice every time you talk about him. You’d be insane or oblivious to not pick up on that and I know you’re neither of those things.” Your mother waited for you to respond.

You remained silent and still. Your eyes had spaced out to glare at the corner of your room. Coming from anyone else, you would have disregarded their opinion on what you felt for Jimin; your mom, however, was an entirely different story. Hearing it out loud triggered a domino effect in your mind. You realized that your perception of what your mother had been trying to teach you was warped by your obsession with this ring. That hit you and crumbled you like a bulldozer broke down a brick wall. This left you wondering how you’d reconstruct yourself from this. You’d always thought that you were better than those who don’t care about your ring, but now you worried that your intense dedication to it burdened you for your entire life.

It wasn’t your mother to be blamed. You fed the fire more than anyone else could and you see that now.

“Wow.” You were speechless, “I’m an idiot.” You said as if that were some monumental revelation. “He’s not my soulmate and he still has his soulmate out there too.”

“Yes, but you love him. That trumps all reason and resistance. Love will always trump all of that.” A blunt rebuttal spoken with such softness from your mother. “I think you should talk to Jimin.” Your mother said in that classic mother knows best tone.

“I think I agree.”

You and Wheein sat against the back wall of the small dance practice room. Each wall was covered with large mirrors and you’d grown acquaint to this environment. Jimin had been rehearsing a routine for his next show; it was in two weeks and despite him saying that it was one of his less important performances, you insisted you’d be there in the front row cheering a little too loudly.

Your eyes would waver between your sketch book, then to Jimin, then to your book, and back to him. You did your best to portray his dancing as graceful as it was to see in person, but you found it impossible. There was no way to recreate such beauty; this was the one thing that your art could never quite achieve, for every imitation of his movements were inferior, pathetic almost, to the real thing.

Wheein, on the other hand, was far from invested in Jimin’s practicing which didn’t come to a surprise.

She wasn’t utterly in love with him.

She peeked over to your drawing followed by rolled eyes. She grabbed her phone and texted you with a disapproving expression.

Wheein: so are u going to ask him to marry u now or later?

The text notification caught your attention. You looked at her as if to ask why she would text you when you were sitting right next to her. She only nudged you in response to coax you to look at the text. When you finally read it, you shot her another look, this time it exemplified your annoyance.

She sent another text.

Wheein: ???

You tried your best to make this exchange as inconspicuous as possible. You began typing aggressively to release some frustration.

y/n: u suck :p

Wheein laughed and responded.

Wheein: that doensn’t answer my question ;)

y/n: ya we’re planning on a destination wedding

Wheein: lol have you guys talked one on one since that day??

y/n: no and I’m on edge bc I have no idea what he’s been feeling these past few days

Wheein: damn ___ its been a week and y’all haven’t talked yet

y/n: i know :/

Wheein: well just talk to him tonight before everyone else comes

Wheein and Jackson had planned to have a kickback before the new semester came into session. She convinced you to host it on the condition she would provide the snacks and drinks. Jackson and his girlfriend, Seokjin, Sana, Yeji, all friends of you met in college, Dahyun, the girl Wheein had been dating for a few weeks, and Jimin were all going to your place later that night.

y/n: lol… you think talking about how I’m secretly in love with him right before getting drunk with our friends is a good idea???

Wheein looked up from her phone and responded with an aloof shrug. You let out a suppressed snicker and looked back down at your phone.

y/n: you’re so annoying

Wheein: at least im not a pussy!

You only replied with a middle finger emoji. You and Wheein were so invested in your virtual conversation, neither one of you had realized Jimin had finished practicing. He walked over to the two of you unsuspectingly and sat down on the other side of you. You fumbled to lock your phone before he could see your conversation while simultaneously trying not to seem like you were hiding something from him.

“You did a great job! I can’t wait to see you perform that.” You gave him an encouraging smile, slyly setting your phone on the floor.

“Thanks.” He said while panting lightly, “I kept messing up on a few steps though. I definitely need to polish up on that.” His hand ran through his hair. Your eyes watched this with the same concentration one would watch a football game coming to its last quarter. You couldn’t help how your gaze traveled down to the way his shirt clung against his chest.

Jimin pointed at your water bottle, “Do you mind?” This snapped you out of your trance.

You shook your head and stared at your sketchbook with such intensity, Jimin noticed how odd you were acting.

“What’s up?” His asked this casually but because you were hiding the fact that you were in literally love with him you felt like this was an interrogative question.

“I’m just,” You paused, beginning to touch up the sketches you had made of Jimin while he was dancing, “I’m not satisfied with how this turned out. Also, you danced well. I couldn’t even tell you messed up.” You did your best to sound distant and uncaring.

Jimin hid his smile by taking a sip of your water. “Thank you.”

Meanwhile, Wheein had witnessed all this occur right before her eyes. She was equally disgusted and embarrassed at how horridly tense that conversation had been. In a perfect world, she would have shoved both of your heads together to initiate a forced kiss because she knew damn well neither of you would ever be the first one to make that move, especially after everything that happened. All she could do was stand by and watch in agony.

“Whenever you two are finished, I’d like to shower before everyone comes over.” Wheein added a touch of retort in her words, hoping you would pick up on what she really wanted to say. “Jimin, you definitely need to shower too.”

You and Jimin laughed as you all stood up and began exiting the practice room. He threw his arm around Wheein in retaliation for her jab. “Oh, you don’t like my sweat?”

She cried out a loud ‘ew’ in disgust and forcefully shoved him away. You watched them bicker, and today was the first day since your ring turned green again that you hadn’t thought about your soulmate once.

Jackson and Nayeon arrived early to help set everything up. He also came to give a last-minute warning that he had invited a few of his friends from work over as well.

“I told him he shouldn’t, but when does he ever listen to me?” Nayeon scolded to which Jackson rolled his eyes. You laughed, appreciating her efforts in attempting to get Jackson not to do something he had his sights set on.

“It’s okay. You can just order something really expensive the next time he pays for dinner.” You said while grabbing an extra pack of red solo cups from your cabinet.

“I do that regardless.” She said with a loud laugh. Jackson nodded in admittance and kissed her cheek lovingly.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” You and Nayeon laughed at his sarcastic remark. She joined in helping you set up to compensate for the fact that Jackson didn’t apologize. You weren’t too upset, though; you knew him too well to believe him when he said he was only going to bring Nayeon tonight.

As the night went on and your apartment slowly filled with around thirteen people, some strangers and some friends, you were on the edge of being drunk to being really drunk. Everyone else was either at you level or a bit ahead of you. Wheein had already hopped on your couch to perform a ballad dedicated to how much she loved her friends.

“This one’s for YOU!” Her voiced boomed louder than the speaker and if you weren’t so intoxicated, you’d be worried about the neighbors filing a noise complaint. Wheein pointed at you then began pointing at everyone else in the room watching in amusement, “This ones for ALL of you! Even Jackson’s friends I don’t even know!”

This elicited a laugh from all of Jackson’s coworkers. One called out, “Do you remember my name?”

“Definitely not but I LOVE you!” She laughed turning red in the face then continuing with her heartfelt serenade to everyone in the apartment. “Dahyun, you’re the cutest girl in the whole wide world. It is very important that you know that! Hey! Everyone! I’m dating the cutest girl in the world!” Dahyun burst out bashfully in giggles, lifting her hands to shield her face.

Your eyes met with Jimin’s as you exchanged looks. He swayed his body from side to side with a bright smile as Wheein sang loudly off-key, and you lifted your shoulders and shook your head in astonishment at how hilarious and sappy Wheein was when she was drunk.

After Wheein’s display of affection, she plopped down on the couch and slouched while reaching for her drink to take a few sips. Things simmered down as the group began to drunkenly chat about something you didn’t pay any attention to. You walked over to Wheein, trying your best not to lose your balance, and sat down next to her.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink.” You said through fits of giggling and she groaned at your unrelenting responsibility even when you were drunk. You snatched the cup out of her hand and chugged the last of the drink, “But I definitely haven’t.”

“Heyyyyyyy!” She slurred, “That was mine!”

“I’m doing you a favor.” You patted her head. “Also, I approve of Dahyun. But she’s not the cutest girl in the world, that title is already taken by you.” You nudged her lovingly and her head tossed around as she laughed.

“Shh, I love you. You’re the best friend ever.” Her words had slurred even more.

Wheein stood up suddenly and marched sloppily over to your bedroom door, “Pssst, I’m going to pass out now and wake up with a hangover tomorrow, so I bid you all a goodnight!” Dahyun led her to the bedroom and kissed her goodnight. She saluted then disappeared into your room.

“Looks like I’ll have to take care of that tomorrow.” Yeji and Sana laughed at this comment, knowing how whiny Wheein would get even if she had the slightest headache.

You, Namjoon, and Nayeon were looking at pictures of her and Jackson’s trip to the mountains last weekend. Although sober you would have been genuinely excited to hear about it, you found yourself struggling to focus your eyes on the pictures, only offering witless answers. Luckily, Namjoon was much better at holding his liquor and Nayeon was an even bigger extrovert when she was drunk which explained why she didn’t even notice you were barely paying attention.

“So, Jimin, how did your date with that girl go?” You heard your friend Seokjin ask.

This sobered you instantly and you found it eerie how your attention focused on what Jimin was going to say. He looked down at his cup trying to find the words to properly describe it.

“It was okay. She was cute and laughed at all my jokes which boosted my ego.” He smiled softly, but it was merely a condolence to the fact that he couldn’t have admitted he didn’t have as much interest in her as he hoped.

“Damn, you’re not that funny so she must have really liked you.” He jabbed with suggestive implications. Jimin laughed at this and nodded in agreement but his smile slowly faded when he scanned the room only to find that you’d been listening to the conversation.

Your intoxication wore away your ability to hide exactly what you were feeling, as a disgruntled expression lingered on your face. The second he looked at you, your head snapped away from his in humiliation as if he hadn’t already seen you were eavesdropping. 

The night came to an end which was a relief to you. You didn’t know how much longer you could put up a happy, carefree attitude. Whenever your mind almost wandered away from Jimin’s date, it swarmed back into your thoughts and focus and provoked irritation with no restraint.

One by one, your friends left. Jackson cleaned up the last few empty cups, tossed them in the trash, and wiped down your table and counter before he left, hoping that would make up for how he had encumbered your plans. Jimin was laying on the couch so you didn’t bother kicking him out. You guessed he was going to spend the night since he was too drunk to drive anyway.

Your legs moved in a staggered manner and you floundered around the kitchen trying to find your cups. You leaned on the counters for support groaning softly to yourself. Thinking about Jimin on a date, flirting the way he’d flirt with you, or laughing for someone else that wasn’t you was enraging. You couldn’t tell whether it was the alcohol or the fuming envy that made you feel dizzy. It was realistically both those things.

You heard light footsteps approaching you, impeding on your pathetic sulking. You spun around quickly to see who it was which, in hindsight, was the worst possible thing you could do. Before you got the chance to give a face to the presence, your eyes began to see patches of black and your hand caressed your head to keep yourself from passing out on the floor.

“Woah.” You gasped trying to recollect your composure both mentally and physically. A few seconds later you felt two familiar arms wrap around your waist in assistance. The way those limbs delicately held you indicated exactly who it was.

“Hey, hey.” His voice was gentle as he was using his lower register, “You okay?” He was so close to you that you could feel his breath that smelled of liquor against your skin. Your hands wandered to rest against his chest, and you looked up at him. His cheeks tinted a soft pink color. Jimin grinned lightly when you made eye contact with him.

“I’m okay.” You mumbled under your breath, not wanting to speak too loudly because you felt your undigested food threaten to come back up your throat. You face inched dangerously close to his, and he didn’t stop you because of his drunken state. Your chest heaved erratically due to your nausea.

“I’m fine.” You sneered pushing him away with the little might that you had left.

“___, you’re still drunk.” He stumbled back and sounded disappointed which made you feel even angrier.

“Well you are too.” You accused feeling a bit demeaned by his tone. He didn’t say anything to this as his arms lazily returned to his side. “You went on a date? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know?” You were annoyed at his resistance towards you. “I’m your friend. Friends tell each other things like that. What? Did you think I would be mad at you?” You stepped forward feeling bold and confrontational, as a result of your drunkenness. He crossed his arms, refusing to yield to you.

“I never said that.” He looked down at the floor, fueling your agitation even more. You wanted him to look at you. “You don’t seem so happy about it, that’s for sure.”

You let out a groan that dragged out for a bit, “What are you talking about, I’m absolutely ecstatic for you.” You jabbed pettily as you walked past him to continue your search for a water glass. He rolled his eyes at your abnormally aggressive and childish attitude.

“You have no right to be mad.” Jimin grumbled while watching you struggle to find a glass. He reached for the correct cabinet and held out a cup to you. You begrudgingly took the cup from his hand and stumbled over to the sink, briefly losing your balance before catching yourself against the counter. He reflexively reached his arm out to catch you in case you fell.

“You don’t think I know that?” You spat with your voice raised slightly, “You don’t think that I know you’re allowed to go on dates with other girls? You don’t think I want to be happy for you?” You started to get worked up and worried you would let something slip out that you would regret.

“Well it doesn’t seem like you’re trying at all.” Jimin walked to the other end of the kitchen and leaned back against the counter.

“What’s it to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know?” Jimin responded sarcastically, “I kind of have a problem with you being mad at me after you were the one who turned me down.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered over your words.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about.” He repeated what you said to confirm your audacious comment. “Oh, so, I imagined when you said you couldn’t be with me because of your soulmate ring?”

“Jimin, don’t.” You warned.

“No, I clearly remember that you said you weren’t interested. And as much as that hurt and I wanted to tell you that I wanted you to choose me I would never do that. At least I could be kind enough to not take that out on you. And now you’re mad at me for trying to get over you? I should have known not to fall for you. Fuck, I tried to tell myself I made up the connection we had to make me feel better about this. To make this,” He gestured to you and him, “whatever this was not real. I thought if I could convince myself our connection wasn’t real then maybe I could cope with the fact that I’d never get to be with you.”

You began to cry but your buzz was strong enough that all caution was thrown to the wind. You cried unconstrained.

“I’m mad because I know I have no reason to be mad but here I am!” You gestured vivaciously as your passion began to boil over. “I’m mad because-” You took a second to catch your breath, “I don’t know. I’m just mad and I’m sorry. Of course, it’s not your fault but I can’t help the way I feel.”

“Right.” He said coldly, unimpressed with this answer.

“What do you know? You don’t know anything! You don’t know me or what I’m thinking.” This attack was meant to hurt him as much as it hurt you to say. You stomped over to him, spilling a bit of water on your hand and the floor.

Jimin stood up and stepped forward to counter you, causing you to stumble back a bit. His face was so close to yours once more and he could now clearly see your dampened eyes and the way they looked at him with frustration. You regained grounding and tried not to seem intimidated. He could be so gentle and light when he danced, but right now he looked so indestructible that not even a tank could move him

“I don’t know you?” Your skin tingled from the bitterness that stained his voice. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair. Your eyes vigilantly watched him and your heart pumped at an unhuman rate. You prayed he couldn’t tell he had this power over you.

His eyes pierced back at you with such intensity that you wanted to cry harder. You wanted to tell him every bit of how you felt and how much you loved him. You wanted him to know that he’d changed you in the most unpredictable and drastic ways and it unhinged every bone in your body. You were scared because you once believed he would never satisfy you since he wasn’t your soulmate, but now you were scared that even a lifetime of efforts could never repay what he had given you. That all this time, you weren’t enough for him.

Jimin felt his urges get the best of him. Staring into your eyes absolved any resentment he held for you. He felt injected with life whenever he looked at you, even when you were staring daggers at him like you had been now. He didn’t know how long he could resist from kissing you, being that he was drunk and reckless.

You both stood there, silently. Jimin was waiting for you to shoot a drunken, unintelligible comment back and you were waiting for Jimin to rebuke you for lashing out at him. Neither of those things happened. You just remained speechless, as did he.

Eventually, you took a few steps away, breaking the longing stare that had transpired between you and Jimin for what felt like an hour.

“I’m going to bed.” That was the last thing you said before slumping out of the kitchen and entering into your bedroom. You were right in assuming Jimin would stay over since he was too drunk and emotional to drive himself home.

Jimin collapsed onto the couch and finally let himself cry. He hated the fact that things didn’t go back to how they were, and that they most likely never would. You were like water to him. He could experience you and feel you but whenever he tried to hold you in his hands no matter how tightly, you would slip through his fingers. He just wished he could have shared another one of those nothing-everything moments with you he’d foolishly taken for granted. When he closed his eyes, memories of you and him played in his mind until he dozed off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to a pressure headache that resided in the back of your head. This however was nothing compared to the feeling you got when you checked your phone and saw Jimin had sent you a text.

Jimin: I think I need some space

Jimin: I’m sorry

Before the tears had the chance to well, you stood up and trudged out to the living room to only find that Jimin had already left and Wheein was sitting on the couch flipping through the stations on the television.

“Look at this.” You tossed your phone on the cushion next to Wheein and walked over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Wheein picked up your phone and read the texts, sighing with disappointment. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ___.”

“We kind of had a fight last night.” You muttered, the memories of everything that had happened flooding back into your head. You said so many things you wish you hadn’t and regretted how rude you had allowed yourself to act.

“Yeah, I know. I heard.” Her lips were pressed together as she walked over to you.

“I really know how to fuck things up, don’t I?” You scoffed in mockery of your misbehavior.

Two weeks passed since you and Jimin had fought.

That petty argument stained your mind. That moment was everything. And for once, you wanted it to mean nothing.

Every time your phone alerted you, you reached for it eagerly and immediately in the slim chance that it was Jimin who was texting you. It never was, though, and you only had yourself to blame.

It had been two weeks of self-reprimand and regret.

Fourteen days of missing him and pitifully scrolling through photos and videos that you took of him.

Three hundred and thirty-six hours since saw his smile or scolded him for skipping practice to hang out with you or received a casual compliment from him that never failed to boost your mood when you were upset.

Or heard his laugh.

Coincidentally, tonight was his dance recital he’d been practicing for. You’d been waffling between going and not going for the entirety of those two weeks. Wheein would always reassure you that you should go and that he would appreciate you cared enough to support him.

“You know I can’t make it, its my mom’s birthday weekend. If not for you, go for me.” She pleaded.

It took a few more minutes of Wheein’s persuasion for you to finally decide on going. And you told yourself it was exclusively for Wheein. You told yourself that, but she knew, and you knew you just missed his so much.

You arrived early so you could snag a decent seat. To your dismay, it was already crowded which made you remember Jimin always downplayed his dancing events due to his humbleness. You found a seat slightly askew to the center of the stage, but close enough to get an adequate view. The lights dimmed and you set down your purse and the bouquet of red roses on the floor in front of your legs.

There were a few performers that preceded Jimin, all were talented and passionate but nothing like the way Jimin danced. Maybe it was because you were in love with him, but there was something exceptionally unmatched about his dancing abilities.

He finally walked out on stage and his eyes met with yours almost immediately. Jimin paused and contained his excitement to the best of his abilities. You weren’t fooled though; you could see it in his eyes that he was relieved you attended and you nodded at him to express physically that you wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Jimin looked down as the music started playing, then began his performance. The way his arms flowed so precisely with the rhythm and the elegance he exuded as he leaped across the stage had the audience collectively in awe of his raw talent. His legs moved so delicately that anyone could tell he was the type of dancer that practiced until he couldn’t stand up anymore.

Your breathing was rather heavily but you ignored everything else when Jimin would dance. The intense beating of your heart, the audience, the walls and even the stage had faded away; he was the only thing detectable in your eyes in this moment.

Your presence granted him the motivation to exert every ounce of effort into every single movement. You pitied the unlucky person who had to follow him. Their dance would surely be put to shame by this beautiful, raw, flawless, emotional masterpiece.

When the dance ended, your body crashed back to reality and you realized every muscle in your body had been contracted. You loosened yourself by leaning back into your chair.

He received a standing ovation which didn’t come to a surprise. You stood up, still. Jimin’s eyes were glued to you. You gave him a teary smile and he held his hand to his heart and bowed. The audience had no idea that was for you and only you.

Jimin prayed that you saw it. The longing, the pure dedication, the heartbreak, and the change. You changed him. He wanted you to know that he always thought he’d fall in love countless times, but from the moment he met you that desire had faded. Now, he knew he’d only ever want to love you. 

The remainder of the recital had been a blur. Nothing could prevail in capturing your attention from Jimin. His movements simply replayed in your head until the showcase ended. You stood up and applauded, growing restless to run backstage to congratulate him.

Before you got the chance to greet him, an entire crowd of people swarmed any path that lead to where the dancers were. You grunted and settled on texting him.

y/n: meet me outside on the bridge across the street

Jimin: I’ll be there in about 10 minutes

You thought your heart couldn’t have raced any faster than it did while you were watching Jimin dance, but your body had proved you wrong. You paced up and down the bridge all the while mumbling what you planned on saying to Jimin. You bit your fingernails and leaned against the wooden railing that scaled along the bridge.

“Hey.” Jimin walked up next to you, looking out to the streaming water below the bridge. It was quiet, warm, and serene. The lantern that stood on the end of the bridge radiating a warm tone that accentuated Jimin’s honey skin.

“You did amazing. Just,” You paused, there were no words to do his performance justice, “if I went blind tomorrow, I’d be satisfied.”

Jimin chuckled at your comment, knowing you meant well.

He laughed for you. That beautiful sound echoed in your heart loudly. You missed it so much.

“These are for you.” You handed him the flowers, turning your body towards him. He grinned and cradled them in his arm.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“I heard from Seokjin that you’re planning on making things official with the girl. What’s her name?” You said abruptly. Jimin visibly tensed when you said this.

“Nancy.” He replied.

“Nancy.” You repeated.

There was a long silence, and Jimin opened his mouth about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Don’t be her boyfriend.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because,” You looked back out into the water before continuing, “I know you could never fully dedicate yourself to her like you would to me.” A scoff escaped you when you said it out loud, “I don’t care if that sounds arrogant because I know it’s true. I know because that’s how I’d feel about everyone else too.” You paused, “Even my soulmate.”

“___, do you- that- where is this coming from?” His eyes planted firmly on yours.

“I love you, Jimin.” You blurted it out. The hundred of ways you imagined yourself confessing this to him ultimately resulted in you ineloquently spouting it out. There was no denying your vigor could never diminish when it came to love, it simply was redirected.

“You love me.” He repeated in a stunned state. He just tenderly stared at you, hope and bewilderment bursting through him; he was trying to take it all in.

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the minute I met you and every minute of every day that I’ve known you. And I could never stop myself from loving you, and I was stupid to think that was possible. I’d always been so determined to find my soulmate. I pictured exactly what to say and how we would fall in love, but with you,” You laughed lightly, holding a hand to your heart. Hearing you say these things to him was everything he’d ever wished for, for the months you’d known each other. Needless to say he was fighting back tears.

“I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’ve ruined love for me because I know nothing will ever be as good as the way I love you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” These words struck you, hard. You didn’t know how to convince him, but dammit, you’d never give up trying.

“I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t let go of the way you laugh, you know I always go out of my way to make you laugh? because hearing it makes me so damn happy and I have no idea why. Or how when we look at each other and I can tell exactly what you’re thinking, and you can tell exactly what I’m thinking. Or how you always let me order my food first and pour water into my cup before you pour water into yours. Or the way you tease me for opening the banana on the ‘wrong side’. Or how your dancing is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And every moment you’re not dancing or laughing or teasing me I wish you were by my side doing all of those things.”

“I could never be him. I could never be that for you, you know this right?” He responded in short answers, unable to find the right words that would be a good enough just like when he was seven years old. But, Jimin was older now and held a firm belief nothing could ever express how strongly he feels.

“Good. I don’t want you to be him or anyone else other than you.”

“But what about-”

“No. There’s nothing else to consider. The point is I could never forgive myself if I gave you up for some theoretical opportunity of a soulmate. I found someone even better. I found you. I don’t care what the stars say, I don’t care that your ring is green and mine is green and that we’re technically not soulmates. I don’t care if I never meet my soulmate. What we have is real. Our connection was built by us. You’re real. And I love you so much that’s all I can say.” You stared intently at him becoming exhausted, yet alleviated from finally being able to tell him all this. “This ring had meant everything for me for all my life. When it was green it meant I had a soulmate, when it was black it meant I had no reason to believe in love. But with you, this ring means absolutely nothing. It’s green again and it has never felt so meaningless to me. Does that even make sense?”

“I love you.” He said after about five minutes of silence. He didn’t give you a second to respond because the next think you knew, he stepped towards you and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

It’s true what they say about seeing fireworks when you kiss someone you love. These fireworks covered every inch of the sky and flared brightly, blindingly so, and flew so high in the air that you swore they reached outer space.

Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. His cheeks softly brushed against yours and felt so warm. The softness of his lips could make you cry. Finally being able to kiss him and hold him and admit your love to him did make you cry. His hands caressed your face making you flush red, and his thumb glided against your cheeks to wipe away the hot tears he felt trickling from your eyes.

He pulled back but couldn’t pull too far because he felt some gravitational force drawing him to be near you. Your noses bumped against each other, “The minute you met me, huh?” You laughed, placing another chaste kiss on the side of his smile.

“I warned you I was a hopeless romantic.” You sniffed still recovering from that tearful, enchanting kiss.

He laced his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers, and strode slowly along the park path. You and he talked like you’d always had but now you loved him, and he knew that.

“Favorite cartoon as a kid?”

“Easy, Blue’s Clues.” Jimin said.

“Really? You think Blue’s Clues was the best when Sesame Street exists?”

“Big bird scared me! You just know he’s killed someone. you can see it in his cold, dead eyes.” Jimin argued.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least none of the characters had conversations with their furniture. Steve was one hundred percent insane.” You said, laughing.

“Steve is a legend, don’t say such things about him.” Jimin joined in your laughter, referring to the main character of Blue’s Clues. 

“Go to pick up line?” He asked.

You thought for a moment, “Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Wow, that was absolutely terrible I think we have to break up.” Jimin chuckled.

“Oh yeah, like you could do better.” You challenged.

“If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?” He said with eyes so dreamy you almost ignored the fact that this pick up like was just as horrendous as yours.

“How was that better than mine?”

“Trust me, it was.”

“I will. I will be your nothing.” He looked to you and kissed your cheek. You closed your eyes at the sensation of his touch.

“And I’ll be yours?” Jimin whispered against your cheek as if he were asking permission to be the one you choose. You nodded. Of course, he was.

You and him and this moment were nothing. Nothing to the passing strangers, nothing to the waiter that took your order on your first date, nothing to the generations to come, nothing to the universe and trees and grass and stars that surrounded you. Nothing at all.

And yet, to you and Jimin, it was everything. This nothing and everything moment marked the beginning of a lifetime of nothing and everything moments.

Somewhere along these nothing and everything moments, green became just another color to you and your ring was just another piece of jewelry. And nothing more.

Exactly 10 months after that night, you and Jimin planned to return to that bridge. You stood against the railing and looked over to Jimin.

“Uh, move over like two inches to the left.” You giggled, finding that your need for accuracy rubbed off on him.

“Are you sure that’s where I was standing? I could swear it was right here!” You argued, simply to get a rise out of him; you thought it was adorable.

“No, you were definitely standing two inches to the left.” He held his phone and aimed it at you. “Move it!” He ordered with a smile on his face.

“Yes sir!” You stepped to the side then looked at him for approval. He held his thumb up and took a few pictures while you posed.

Afterwards, he walked up to you and placed a kiss on your cheek before showing you the photos. Most of them were blurry and you teased him for his shoddy camera skills. “Wheein’s gonna hate these pictures.” You commented. He laughed and threw his arm across your shoulder as the two of you stared out into the water flowing peacefully downstream. Being here with him brought the memory of that night as if it had happened just yesterday.

“A friend once said to me: ‘it’s crazy that out of all the years and decades and countries we could have been born, we were born in this one, together’.” Jimin’s eyes were fixated on the water in reminiscence of the first time he’d met you, “I thought of what my friend said often when we were together. And it’s as if we were meant to find each other. The universe seems coincidental when it comes to picking soulmates, doesn’t it? At least we got to choose. And I think it purposefully granted us that choice knowing exactly what it would bring us. As if we were meant to bring every bit of love, warmth, and even heartbreak into each other’s lives. It’s kind of like a lottery when you think about it. To me, it feels like fate plucked us out like numbers on a ticket and placed us together.” Jimin looked over to you now, and when you stared into his eyes every one of your questions about love had been answered.

“Numbers are infinite.” You said softly.

“Yeah, and yet, we were picked. I understand now I won the lottery.” He replied and wished time would stop so he could cherish this nothing moment forever.

“There isn’t a doubt in my mind about doing this.” You said with sentiment. “Ready?”

“Ready.” He responded, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The two of you slipped the soulmate rings off your fingers and you gazed at it one last time.

“Count of three?”

Jimin nodded.

You started the countdown, “One.”

Jimin continued it, “Two.”

Three came in unison and you both threw your rings into the water which was now rushing rapidly.

When you felt the ring slip from your hand and watched as it dropped into the water, you wept. You wept out of pure relief and liberation; an enormous pressure had lifted from your chest and you were finally able to breathe. That ring could never cause you any more pain, nor did that ring replenish your hope you would find love. You didn’t need it anymore.

Because now, you had an endless supply of nothing moments.

and everything moments

and Jimin.

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Eight: The One When He Comes Home

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2338

   Lily and Cedar sat in the lab for a few moments after she posed her question, eyes locked on one another, trying to figure out what the other was thinking. The two were seemingly two birds of a feather when they were younger, but as age and the years weathered them both, they split into two. Neither truly understanding what was going on in the other's head. Lily used to be able to figure out Cedar in a matter of seconds, but now...he was just a shell of the brother she adored. He wasn't who he used to be. It broke Lily to see him like this, but she wondered if it may be a charade. If his entire presence was a trick done by her parents to get their hands on what they truly wanted out of all of this.

"So are we just going to sit here and stare at each other?" Cedar quipped, shifting in his seat, "Learn that from the assassin you let sleep in the same house as my nephew?"

Lily lowered her eyes at his words, a rage boiling deep inside of her, "What happened to the calm and relaxed demeanour from yesterday?" she questioned, crossing her legs, "And don't speak about James like that. You don't know him."

"What? Not Bucky anymore?"

"Not to you, he isn't."

Both resumed the same tense silence as earlier, though this time, Lily's back stood a bit straighter. Her eyes lowered and focused solely on the expressionless face of Cedar. He was hiding something behind that facade of being too weak, but that may simply be the cynic inside of Lily. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Perhaps her parents used him against his own will. But if she knew Cedar, he didn't do it willingly.

"What do you want, Cedar?" Lily questioned, leaning back in her seat as Natasha walked in with pancakes.

"To help," he stated cooly, eyes glancing to the agent that dropped the two plates in front of Lily and him, "To help you, and the others."

Lily stayed silent as she waited for Natasha to leave the room. When she did, the blonde leaned forward and took a bite of the pancakes. Not as good as hers, but not bad. She watched Cedar carefully, monitoring every flick of his eyes and twitch of his hands. The way his breath increased whenever he heard voices travelling from upstairs. He was anxious, Lily figured that out pretty quickly, but also scared. Of what? She wasn't sure.

"I need the truth, Cedar." Lily stated simply, placing down her fork.

He hesitated, mouth pursing before he took a bite of his own pancakes, wiping his mouth before speaking, "They want something they can't have, Lily," he said in a hushed tone, "something I know you'd be damned before ever giving up."

"What is it?" She questioned, shrugging her shoulders, "Hunter? Because I'll take them on myself before any of you lay a hand on him."

"Any of us? You think so low of me, Lil?"

"I do," she stated harshly, voice shaking, "I do Cedar. Rose does too. So does Hunter. So does James."

"So your boyfriend's opinion on me means more than everything we've been through?" He scoffed, pushing his plate away.

Lily watched intently. Everything was going as Bucky had instructed her. He wanted her to rile him up, get his emotions going to reveal something they didn't know before. It hurt her, it destroyed her, but she knew he was right. She knew that the man before her was not her brother, but someone else wearing his skin. Maybe had his heart, but not his soul. This was someone who had been corrupted into something far more extreme than he realized. His actions put so many people in danger, and in harm's way, including Lily, and her son.

"What we've been through?" Lily chucked, shaking her head, "No. No Cedar this isn't about what we've been through. This is about what you aren't realizing. I hold James' opinion higher because he was there to put things into perspective for me when you, mom, and dad, were off doing your little experiments."

"This has nothing to do with him." Cedar stated simply, shrugging his shoulders in a menacing mockery of Lily.

"This has everything to do with him. He is my family now Cedar," Lily sneered, "And you have decided to mess with my family. You stopped being family when you tried to hurt my son."

"Oh my god, this has nothing to do with Scott's either!" Cedar exclaimed, standing to his feet and pushing the chair away.

"Why were you there, Cedar?" Lily asked, her voice as calm as a river after a storm.

"Can we not do this-"

"Why were you there?"

"You can't be serious right now, Lily!"

"Answer me!"

"TO GET HUNTER!" Cedar exploded, flipping the plate off the table, causing Lily to jump away out of instinct, "AND TO GET YOU! TO BRING YOU HOME! SO YOU COULD BE LIKE US!"

Lily stared at the man, analyzing the words of his confession. Her heart raced and chest was rising and falling at a rate that showed she was close to tears. Her lips quivered and eyes were wide. She knew he didn't mean their actual home. She didn't know where he meant. But it wasn't the calm, two story, eco friendly home in Long Island. It was where this new Cedar had been made. Because her parents were going to start with their own family. Make them new, and make them into the icons that the world "needed".

"Well that was quite the show." Tony's voice echoed as he stepped into the lab, "Glad to know Cyborg doesn't just have old gears in his head." The man quipped, turning his attention to Cedar, "C'mon. Don't make this arrest harder than it already will be."

Cedar's eyes dropped down to Lily, who was shaking slightly in her seat. Her own eyes dropped down to the broken plate on the floor, her mind racing as memories resurfaced. The feeling of betrayal sat heavy in her stomach, and she knew that it was her own doing. She should have fought harder for him. Made him confess that he was being manipulated or controlled. Anything to prove that what Cedar was doing was not his true intent, not his true wishes. But she knew that it was, all from the heavy breathing escaping from his mouth as he sneered down at his sister. The way he looked at her, that of disgust and hurt. She could only imagine what her own looked like.

"You've become a coward, Lily." He spat, before turning towards Tony.

-----

Two hours later, Lily sat in her bed with the blankets pulled tightly up to her chin. Tears ceased to fall from her cheeks, seemingly having run out. Her body shook as the dry heaving took over her quiet sobs. No one dared ask to talk, not even Rose. Steve tried at first, and earned a pillow being thrown at him by the broken woman. Her hands were numb and aching from the grip she held on the blankets, trying to hide away from the world. She hated herself for what she did, despite it being the right thing.

The sound of a helicopter or plane above the compound set Lily's heart off into a frenzy. Either someone was visiting, or Bucky was coming home. With Cedar's confession and evidence of DNA altering from Tony and Bruce's tests, she could only assume that they had enough to convict her parents of whatever. But she didn't move from her spot. She couldn't. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to face the truth of what happened. What she did. She betrayed her own family. But most of all, she failed.

She raised Cedar. She cooked for him, bathed him, did everything for him. She swore to protect him at all costs. Keep him safe from all the dangers of the world, just as she had sworn to Hunter. Instead, she let him fall into the hands of her parents. Those same parents she came to realize were the farthest thing from that. They provided food, and a shelter, sure, but they weren't parents. They never cared for Lily, they never cared for Rose, and all they ever did to Cedar was us him. Convince him of things she knew for a fact weren't true. Maybe that's why he went to them. Trying to fill that hole of not having them as a child.

He was her brother. And she said he wasn't even family anymore.

Her eyes lifted as her bedroom door opened, the face of her son popping around with sad eyes. Lily immediately released the blankets and wiped her eyes, opening her arms to Hunter as he walked forward. When he climbed onto the bed, Lily gave a weak and clearly forced smile. She knew he could see through it, but she figured any sense of comfort that he could get, would help in the times he was experiencing. Hunter sat across from her with his legs crossed, mirroring her own position.

"Uncle Cedar is getting arrested," he whispered, voice barely louder than the wind.

"I know," Lily whispered, nodding slowly as she pursed her lips, "They won't try to hurt us anymore. Ever. I promise."

Hunter wiped his eyes as he crawled into his mom's arms, curling into her shoulder as his warm tears dropped onto her collarbone. The world fell away as she listened to his heavy breathing. Her fingers ran soothing circles down his back, her own pain putting itself on the backburner. Hunter was her main priority right now. It didn't matter what she said, what she did, as long as Hunter was in her arms. He was safe, healthy, and with her. No one out there trying to hurt him or get to him anymore. Because she sacrificed what she needed to.

Maybe more than she intended to.

"Can't you give them a bit?" a hushed voice echoed from outside of her room, "She's been crying for two hours." Steve continued, his voice growing closer as boots tapped on the ground.

"Steve, that is the woman he loves in there," Sam retorted back, "I need to tell her. We also need to talk about her parents' arrest."

"She just helped have her parents and brother arrested, don't you think she deserves a few minutes alone with her son?"

Silence fell. No one breathed, no one spoke. The only noise was the soft cries from the boy Lily held in her arms. Her own heart seemed to cease from beating as the familiar voice of Sam replayed through her head. Something happened. Something terrible happened. Lily didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to know. Whatever Bucky did, she knew it wasn't good. Whether it was sacrificing himself, or forcing Sam to leave. But she figured out pretty quickly he didn't arrive home with Sam. Which only scared her more.

The creak of the door handle set Lily's heart in motion once more. Sam's face poked around, a large bruise on his eye and gash across his cheek.

"Where is he?" She croaked.

-----

Arrested. Her parents were arrested. And she was at her wits end. She couldn't do it. So when Sam told her he didn't know where he was, Lily snapped. She packed everything, put Hunter, Rose, and Joey in the car and was gone. No one tried to stop her. No one tried to get her to stay. They knew there was nothing they could have said. Lily Osborne was sick and tired of being caught up in the Avengers.

She couldn't do it.

No one spoke. Not a word was exchanged as Lily drove back down to the small home she missed. It was enough. But when she turned the corner, a car stuck out to her. One in her driveway she never saw really. She'd seen it, but she and him never used it. They used her car primarily. But her blood boiled as she pulled in and stormed into the house.

There he was, bruised and battered, sitting on her couch.

"Rose," Lily called back, "Take Hunter to Gen's."

Bucky's face fell as he listened to her words. Dread took over his face and Lily slammed the door, her face hard and aggressive. The anger she always hid away fought its way to the surface as he stayed sitting. Neither spoke, neither breathed. The only noise was the air conditioner that warmed the house around them.

"Hi Doll."

"Do not call me that," Lily exclaimed, slamming her keys down and walking across to the living room, "You do not speak right now. You sit, and listen. Because I have had enough, James."

And he did as told. He readjusted in his seat and waited for the hell that Lily was about to unleash.

"You have roped my family into something," she snapped, "I'm tired. I'm so tired. I am so tired Bucky."

"I kno-"

"No! No Bucky you don't know!" She exclaimed, tugging at her hair, "You made a promise to me. You promised me you would keep us out of danger. And here we are, after two weeks of sitting in an Avengers Compound because we were in danger."

"Lily please-"

"No I'm not done talking," she retorted, eyes bearing down into him, "I felt so sick these past weeks. Not knowing where you are, what you're doing. If you're alive! I sat in my bed like the dotting wife who was waiting for you. But for the love of GOD Bucky I can't keep doing that!"

"Lily I'm retiring."

"No don't do that," Lily whispered, tears rolling down her face, "Because you know that's not true. You will say you're done and they will rope you right back in."

"Lily- "

"Get out. Get out Bucky. I'm tired. I'm done."

[aquaticalay]

Old Flames Die Hard (The Mandalorian x reader)

Summary: You've only seen Din Djarin's face once before, when you were younger. Now he shows up at your door looking for shelter, and he can't help but crave your touch.

Warning: fluffy smut and blindfolding. Bit of angst :)

Word count: 2.6k

Note: literally no one asked for this, but I'm in love with Mando, so enjoy! :)))

Also I'm reuploading this bcs tumblr apparently hates me and they took this off the tags

Your peaceful reading was disturbed by the sound of a firm knock on your door. You look. away from you scrolls, wondering who might be here this early in the morning. 

Walking to the front door of your hut, you peek from the hole of the door viewer to check who it was.

A familiar helmet and figure stood on the other side of the door. You inhale sharply because the figure was too familiar.

What could he want from you? After all this time?

You open the door, an inevitable warm smile plastered to your face.

"Hello," you say, keeping your composure straight.

"Hello, (Y/n)," he greets. You could see how tense he becomes. You wish you could see his reaction, his emotions through the helmet, but you know better.

"What are you doing in Takodana?" You ask, tilting your head in curiosity.

So she still has it, Mando thinks to himself, those hypnotic eyes full of wonder. A gaze he had not been able to resist then.

"I need a place to lay low," he tells you. If there was ever a coldness to his voice, it was easing.

"Why—" you start to say, but was interrupted by a small, adorable squeal of a small, pale green child with eyes bigger than his nose and ears longer than his arms.

You knelt down. "Hi, little one," you coo, letting its tiny tridactyl hands curl on your pointer finger. "Where did Mando find you, hm?" You added.

"Are we welcomed inside?" Mando asks, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. You lifted the infant, rocking him gently in your arms. 

You nod. "Of course. Come in."

-

You lay the child on a bed of fur, making sure he is comfortable. When you pull your arms away from the child, it let out a high-pitched noise. It didn't want you to go.

You shush him attentively. "It's okay," you say quietly, "I am not leaving, I will be right here."

Even with your back facing Mando, you could feel his piercing stare. 

When the child yawned and relaxed, you let him rest. You take a seat on a table not far from him, where Mando was sitting across from you.

"So," you cross you arms on your chest, "Why are you running this time?"

"The child is a bounty," he tells you.

"Ah," you say, leaning back on your chair. "You helped him escape?"

He nods.

To an extent, knowing Mando rescued this child restored your faith in him. You shake your head, letting out a cynical chuckle. "This is why I am a bounty hunter no more."

"What are you now?" He asks. For the first time since he got here, you can hear that he still cares.

"A scholar," you answer lightly. "I teach travelers now."

He nods again, but does not answer with words. 

"Tell me more, Mando," you start to say, "about what you've been up to."

And he does just that for the next hour or so. You listen intently, lost in his tales of exciting adventures. 

-

You excuse yourself to your room, telling him that you needed rest after a long night of reading scrolls. You made it clear that he could knock anytime, and he could sleep to the next room if he wanted to.

You lay on the bed, trying to rest.

You could not. Not with the Mandalorian out there. Too many memories, good and bad, about him, and with him.

After fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on the door.

You sit up immediately, "Come in."

The door creaks open, and Mando steps in. A full second passed before you stood up, and it was easily the longest second of your life.

"The child is asleep," he states. His voice slightly falters, revealing the possibility of a hidden intention.

You step closer to him, until there is so little space between the two of you, not even a scroll could fit in the middle.

You both know neither of you could hold back the unspoken silence. After all, you can't just pretend that what happened between the two of you never happened.

"What are you thinking?" He asks, his voice quivering. 

You have tried to be strong, but now a pearl-like tear slid down your face. You let your arm rest on his beskar helmet, where the line of his jaw would be. "Just curious," you manage to say, "of how you've changed. How you look like now, Din."

At the mention of his birth name, his breathing hitched. As far as he was concerned, you were the only one alive who knew his name, aside from the creed.

Years ago, the night before you left the guild, you were faced with a similar situation.

You told him you were going to leave. He met you in your quarters, and there, he had given you permission to lift his helmet off his head.

You had admired him. The first and only time you saw him, you noticed how beautiful he was, strong and mature features with a boyish smile. At that point, you were convinced the Maker accidentally made an angel in the place of a human.

You kissed him that night, all tongue and teeth clashing in desperation, and you had taken him to your bed, to have one last night with him. Limbs tangled and fingers entwined, he had declared his love to you, and you did, too. Neither you nor him regretted it. The only thing you wish you could do was take him with you when you escaped the guild. You left the day after, with a heavy heart and a memory that was damn near impossible to forget.

He was an old flame that died hard.

Only for you, he had broken his vow. 

You had kept it a secret since. 

You have to make sure it stayed a secret, or the Mandalorians will not let his put his helmet back on.

Now, his hands are on either side of his helmet. He slowly slides it up. "Why don't you find out?" He asks, almost taunting, challenging.

Before he could lift his helmet too far off, you gently brought both your hands over his, and pulled the steel dome back down.

"No," you let out a ghostly whisper. "Don't."

"Do you not lov— want me anymore?" His voice shatters. That's how you know that he is as heartbroken as you. "Is there someone else?" He asks, his voice straining.

"No," you say. The dam behind your eyes broke, tears dropping off your chin. It wasn't crying, no. It was the beginning of a desolate sobbing that came from a person who had built a wall over their emotions. "There has never been anyone but you, Din. There will never be."

He pushed his gloves off, the metal pieces carelessly clanging to the floor. His calloused fingers wiped your tears away, rubbing circles on your skin. "Then I ask for your permission to do this once again."

You step back, and his hand falls back hopelessly to his sides.

"I want to," you whisper, only barely audible, "But I will not. For your sake. I will not let you break your vow again."

"You did not mind when you held me that night, in Navarro." His voice is now softer, defeated. He will not ask again, if you do not wish to, but he had to know why.

You hold his hand. You step forward again, this time the gesture was more certain. "We were young. I did not understand what the Mandalorians meant back then. I am a scholar, Din. I learn, especially from my mistakes," Gently, you kisse his palm. It's a show of affection, and Din let you. 

By any means, you did not think he was a mistake. The night you spent wasn't a mistake either. The mistake was simply your lack of experience. Your lack of knowledge. 

You continue, "I did not respect the Mandalorians enough, then. I did not respect you enough. I do now."

He moves his hand, and you let it wander your facial features. 

His hand moves to your hair. He unties your headband, a piece of cloth that held your locks together. You hair spill on over your eyes, and he tucks them behind your ears.

Oh, you thought to yourself.

Your mouth opened a little, realizing his intentions. His finger went under your chin, lifting it up. "Do you know what I'm about to do?"

He asks, his voice as coarse as sand.

"Yes," you admit.

"Would you let me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?" He asks one last time.

You have never been more certain, "Yes."

Slowly, but surely, he covers your eyes with the cloth of your headband. He tied a knot on the back of your head, not too tight to hurt you, but tight enough so it wouldn't fall off.

He was a smart man, and still is.

"Can you see?" He asks.

"No," you reply honestly. Almost breathless, you thank the Maker that the questions he's been asking doesn't need more than a one-word answer at a time. 

"Can I take my helmet off now?"

"Yes," you sigh. You can hear him taking it off and you assumed he laid it on the floor. 

You gasp when you felt your lips against his, cold and desperate. Isolated, almost. You could feel the relief in his touch. He cups your cheeks, pulling you up towards him. What he looked like, you did not care. You know that this is him, at the fact alone is enough. It was the same person you made love to all those years ago. You know because you remember every waking moment of it.

You let the kiss become feverish and heated, placing your hand blindly on his shoulders and around his neck. You did not need to see him to know that he was smiling against your lips, that his cheeks was just as soaked with tears as yours.

Low groans unintentionally flutter out of his mouth, music to your ears.

Your hands make their way to his cheeks, caressing the rough skin. Stripped of your sight, you trail you fingers on his cheekbones and jawline to get a sense of what he looks like now. 

He pulls apart from the kiss, and you manage to hold on to his shoulders for support. You felt his hot breath against your temple, and you shiver because of it. 

"Are you sure you want this?" He asks, hopeful but uncertain. His voice is clear now, unmodulated and raw. Easier to read.

"I want this. You, Din," you whisper, raspy words dripping in desperation, "please."

Gently, his hands dance to your hips, gently squeezing it. He steps forward, pushing you until you feel your blanket and bed on the back of your feet.

He drags the invisible weight off your shoulders, making you sit down on your bed. 

You let go of him for a split second, feeling lost in the dark. Then, you hear the unmistakable clutter of beskar on the floor. Piece by piece, he placed it on the ground, his adrenaline pumping from the sight of you attentively waiting for his to strip himself off his heavy armor.

When the soft metallic noises stop and you felt his hands on your waist, you knew he was done. His hands went to your fabric belt, the only thing that held your robe together. Untying it, he pushes the article clothing off, until you were completely bare to him.

"My love." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, mouth trailing down to your nose, then to your lips. This time he doesn't hesitate, and he knocks the air straight out of your lungs. You return it with just as much passion, encouraging him to come closer. 

He opens his mouth, and you feel his tongue brush on yours, fiery and longing. He pushed even further, and you let him, until your the crown of your head hits the soft pillow beneath. You can feel him hover, shifting half of his weight on you. You let his mouth leave kisses down your neck, biting once in a while as he goes. 

It was hard to think of him as a battle-hardened bounty hunter now that he was over you, peppering loving kisses, making sure you were taken care of.

Your hands travel you his curly locks. You massage his scalp, tugging ever so slightly. You imagine his chestnut hair, the same color you've seen before, maybe with a few grey hairs given by time.

"Din," you manage to say, "Please. I can't take it anymore."

You feel him lick a stripe from your collarbone to your jawline, nipping at your skin. "Patience, my love," he mutters in your ear, pressing his teeth to you earlobe.

You shudder, heart thumping faster than your ribcage can handle.

You drag your hands down, raking his bare back. Caving into his touch, you feel your heat pooling between your legs.

You bite your lip instinctively, holding a moan. He does not say anything, but you knew it drove him crazy. 

His hand rub on your lips, and you take advantage by pressing your tone on the pad of his finger. 

"You're as beautiful as I remember," he admits. He sounds a bit sad. 

He should've gone to find you sooner. If he could turn back time, that was the only thing he'd change. 

You reply with a long purr.

His left palm runs down, squeezing your hips.

"No need for foreplay?" He asks, and you swear you could hear a hint of amusement in his voice, perhaps to cheer himself up. He probably noticed how wet you were, how submissive and desperate. 

"No," you yelp, feeling his length against your core, "Just make love to me." 

He takes the consent, sliding his cock into you. You mewl, trying your best to steady yourself, hands holding on to his back. He moves when you beg him to, rapidly slamming into you. It was slow at first, but your otherworldly moans encourage him to go faster.

His legs tangled with yours, he rocks up and down, providing counter-resistance. His rhythm ends you into cloud nine, sultry and irresistable. His hips move in a figure-8 motion, his pubic bone stimulating your bundle of nerves with explosive friction.

His breath was as heavy as yours. His lips latch on your shoulder, burying his neck into your shoulder. He does this to suppress his filthy moans so he doesn't wake the child. You, on the other hand, was forced to bite your lip, swallowing your groans.

"Din," you whisper, tone going up in pitch.

"I know, I know," he licks the shell of your ear, "Come with me."

His voice undid you, becoming the catalyst of your long-awaited satisfaction.

He rides your high, coming only a few seconds later. His heavy moans turning fulfilled breathing. 

He drops to the space next to you, your back pressed to his chest, his hands secured around your waist, you own hands on top of them, rubbing comforting circles.

The blindfold on you is still tightly wrapped, not losing its integrity at all. Frankly, you don't mind. You did not have to see him to enjoy his company. That's how much you trust him.

"Promise me," you say, your voice only barely audible, "that this is not the last time."

"I promise," he hums, his nose affectionately pressed into your hair.

You did not need to hear him say 'I love you' to know that he does.

-end

[ticklishpeter]

loosen up (diego/lila)

my first umbrella academy fic!!!!! i don’t feel great about it but diego & lila are just,,, everything to me so i felt like i definitely had to do something.

summary: there were so many details about diego that lila wanted to memorize; the crease between his eyebrows when they furrow, every curve of his lips, his bone structure; all of it. one that she’d only seen once or twice before, that she wanted to see so much more of, was his smile. 

word count: 1,221

             there were so many details about diego that lila wanted to memorize; the crease between his eyebrows when they furrow, every curve of his lips, his bone structure; all of it. one that she’d only seen once or twice before, that she wanted to see so much more of, was his smile. 

     she’d hoped her staring wasn’t too obvious as she popped a crisp into her mouth. “hey,” lila’s british accent piped up before diego turned his attention to her.

     “you know, you really need to loosen up, kiddo. smile for once, why don’t ya?” lila sneered, placing a poke at diego’s side. “shut up,” the hargreeves' reply dripped with his trademark cynical sass, but the flinch that had preceded it did not go unnoticed. a small hum left her lips as she nonchalantly put the bowl of crisps the two were sharing onto the table in front of them. a squeeze soon found it’s way to the same side, this time a bit closer to his ribs. the larger body twisted away from the touch, an unexpectedly aggressive reaction. 

  “what’s this?” heavily-lined eyes lit up, a teasing grin already plastered on her face. she already knew exactly what it was, but she knew he’d never admit that he actually was ticklish, and decided to have a little bit of fun with him.

“i-it, i...” diego tried his hardest to mask his sudden nervousness, “it hurt a little. i mean, it didn’t hurt, it just...” his brows furrowed as he gulped all but subtly, “it felt weird.” the male cleared his throat, crossing his arms and sitting back up to where he’d been before, but lila was clearly on a mission at this point. 

  “weird, huh? would you say,” the attack escalated quickly as she wormed her two index fingers under his folded arms and down his sides, poking repeatedly and dangerously close to his stomach, “tickly? does this... tickle, perhaps? you’re not ticklish are you?” she knew exactly what she was doing. knowing from personal experience, hearing the words always made it worse.

 diego’s face heated at that dreaded word, and his mind wandered back to the tickle fights that he was always a frequent target of when he and his siblings were children. the memory mixed with the unwavering jabs at his worst spots caused an embarrassingly loud snort to leave his mouth, followed by a tiny giggle, “n-n-no, no. ihi’m — i’m not.” he attempted to cover up any following giggles by clearing his throat again as he squeezed his arms closer to his midriff, attempting to stop the sensation. diego managed to stay mostly quiet until he felt a hand move to his uncovered stomach, five fingers scribbling around the center. “no!” he yelped in an uncharacteristically loud and high-pitched yelp before dissolving into silent giggles. weakly grabbing the offending wrist, he covered his face with the other, “stop. stohop!” 

  the brief smile she’d seen was cute, but much too small, lila thought. “let’s move those pesky arms, huh?” the female said over the other’s stuttery protests. luther had just walked by, almost as if he knew, although seemingly oblivious to the whole situation. and duh, if she had the opportunity to hold his wrists together with one hand, the ability to mimic any nearby superpowers, of course she had to take advantage. 

  “no!” diego shouted in the toughest, gruffest voice he could muster as he tugged on his arms the best he could, “fuck youhou!” the superpowered vigilante couldn’t help but giggle before she even touched him. he knew what was coming, and he didn’t know whether he was cursing at luther, lila, or himself for breaking so easily.

      “i haven’t even touched you yet, darling!” she laughed smugly, almost in disbelief. she leaned her face closer to his, as she straddled his lap, voice softening to a somehow more menacing tone, “not ticklish, my ass.” her free hand immediately got to work, vibrating her fingertips into the left side of his stomach. 

  diego let out another snort and kicked his leg out, knocking the bowl off of the table in front of them. full giggly belly laughs were audible now throughout elliot’s loft as diego tried his hardest to hide his face in his shoulder. “nohoho. god, you fucking suhuhuck —” he managed before bursting into uncontrollable laughter at the feeling of one teasy finger making it’s way around his whole midriff. “nonono FUCKINGSTOPIT, i’m so gonna gehehe — hAHAHA,” the offending finger dipped into his bellybutton, somehow having snuck under his shirt, and his cackles faded into silent laughter, interrupted only by small squeaky hiccups.

   “it’s just one little finger, you big baby.” she giggled, and couldn’t help but melt at the typically stoic man’s frantic reactions to just a few harmless well placed pokes and tickles. she was having an utter field day with this newfound weakness. laughing right along with him, she spidered her nails around the spot beneath his navel, and cooed, “tickletickletickletickletickle!” 

   diego’s least favorite word mixed with some “kitchie-kitchie-koo”s left her lips with such a smooth and torturous tone. “STOHO —” he choked out hoarsely before falling back into a fit of silent laughter. his furiously kicking legs threatened to break the glass coffee table but lila was laughing almost as hard as diego, so she didn’t want to stop anytime soon. “sh-sh-sh-shUT UP! stop it, stop s-s-saying that!” he squeaked and flailed his body around as much as he could, but his arms just wouldn’t budge. 

  “aww, what is it, lovey? d’you want me to stop? you want me to stop tickle, tickle, tickling you?” a fake pout on her lips as she squeezed his side, quickly switching spots all over his torso, even occasionally moving up to an armpit. 

  “yehehees!” he whined. all of his dignity, at this point, had been reluctantly thrown out the window, and he silently thanked god that none of his other siblings were home. unbeknownst to them, luther had been snickering to himself at diego’s noises in the other room, purposefully staying close to the wall so lila could access his power.  

  “yes? yes?” the babyish tone she used was brutal. once more, she moved her smirking face closer to his blushing one, “sounds to me like you might like it. the word ‘yes’ has a very positive connotation, y’know.” she clawed all five of her fingers and scribbled over his bellybutton again, “NO! y-yohohou asked if i wanted you to sTAHAHAHAHA — STO-STOHO-*hic* STOHOHOP! *hic* FUHUCK!!” hiccups had began to take over his laughter, and he was nearly positive that he’d never blushed this hard in his life. “sTOP IHIT OKAY! OKAHAY I’M TICKLISH, I’M TICKLISH, WE FUCKING GET IT!!” lila decided to give him a rest when he noticed his breathing pattern become a bit too irregular. eyes stinging with tears, his strong arms whipped down to wrap around his torso the second that lila let go of his wrists. 

 she stood up, pausing for a second before doubling over with laughter, “you’re seriously such a baby, aren’t you? oh, that was priceless. you should’ve seen yourse —” a squeal of her own interrupted her words as diego leapt towards her, utilizing the exact same poking method she’d just tormented him with. 

it was a long day, to say the least.

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Endings & Beginnings

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 1,312 Rating: G Taglist:  @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: Just a little hurt/comfort with a fluffy end because I’m struggling with moving

“I hate endings.”

The words fell from your lips suddenly and forcefully, body no longer capable of containing everything you were feeling. Jaskier looked over towards you quickly but didn’t speak. He’d been pointedly not looking your way all day as you worked in near silence, the only sounds the scraping of chairs and items as they were shuffled into boxes and bins, and his quiet humming. There had been an uneasy tension, not between the two of you but surrounding you. This whole house had become a powder keg and you were scared the slightest whisper of emotion may burn it all down and take you with it. He, in his strange but thoughtful way, had recognized that you needed to be given space to avoid and ignore and push it all down. He trusted you would come to him eventually. He waited even now, quiet and watchful, but his azure eyes were on you now and they would not look away. You didn’t look back at them, keeping your own eyes staring firmly ahead at a corner of the wall you focused on intently.

S

“I know they lead to new beginnings but I hate those too.”

The words tasted as bitter as they sounded but there was a sweet relief in saying them aloud. You chased that relief, eager for anything to take the edge off the anxiety and fear that had been welling in you for weeks. You glanced up now, expecting a censuring look from Jaskier who always had a positive spin when you were at your grouchiest, but he only smiled softly. You held his gaze for another moment and then looked back at the corner in the wall before continuing.

“We all like to think of beginnings as some grand adventure but they’re hard and not all of them end well and even if they do, they have to end. People have to go. And this time it’s me and… it feels wrong.”

You swallowed hard and closed your eyes, willing the tears back. This was the part where Geralt would remind you that you had a choice. You didn’t have to go. You could stay here and have a pretty good life, all things considered. Your friends were here, after all. Most of them at least. There was every reason to stay and yet…

And yet you knew better.

You knew if you did you would never forgive yourself.

You knew no matter how tempting it was to stay burrowed in this space you’d learned to survive in, you had to resist because you would never be happy. Or at least, you’d never know if you could have been happier or more at peace somewhere else. You’d reminded Geralt that you were moving for a job. He’d reminded you that you didn’t have to take it. You’d reminded him to shut up and he’d smirked and shaken his head and left you and Jaskier in peace to finish packing.

You were surrounded by relics of your past. There were things that belonged to friends of family you’d never met and items you wanted to hold onto but knew you had no space for in your life anymore.

“It doesn’t feel wrong, though, does it?” Jaskier asked. You looked over at him again and found him leaning against a stack of boxes, arms crossed over his chest which caused the puffy sleeves to jut out even more prominently.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he began, slowly crossing over to you with that casual, loping gait you could spot in a crowd of thousands. He sat next to you and even his closeness provided a bit of calm, though you waited almost breathlessly to hear what he would say, as desperate for comfort as you were wary of it.

“It’s where you’ve lived, yes, and you’ve made wonderful connections. But haven’t you spoken for years about how it feels wrong here?”

“Yes but there feels wrong too,” you argued, “I’m starting to think it’s just me that’s wrong.”

“No,” he said, the word firm but spoken quietly under his breath. His mouth quirked into the whisper of a soft smile and his hand found yours, weaving his fingers between yours and clutching it tightly, “No, you are not wrong. And you’re right. Perhaps this new place is wrong as well. And maybe there is something you need to figure out, some way you have to grow before you can discover what feels right. But this isn’t forever, Y/N.”

“Nothing is forever,” you said a little wistfully. Jaskier had no response for that, he simply squeezed your hand tighter and leaned forward, pressing a kiss against your forehead and then leaning back just far enough to watch your face. Your heart warmed at the soft, caring look in his eyes and the firm grasp of his hand and the certainty you felt that even as all things changed, he was still Jaskier. For better or worse, he’d joke, though you fervently argued it was always for the better.

“It’s still hard,” you sighed.

“It is,” he agreed.

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. All you have to do is what you can do when you can do it.”

“You make it sound so easy,” you laughed humorlessly. You raised your glance to meet his eyes, the usually twinkling blue uncharacteristically somber though still kind.

“It isn’t,” he said. You rested your forehead against his, eyes falling closed as you took in his scent and warmth and used them as anchors to keep you grounded as your mind tumbled down a sad, dark tunnel of fear and regret.

“Everything is changing but there is joy to be had, too,” he whispered. In a whisper the thought seemed possible, something you dared to entertain. The cynical, cautious part of you that paraded as realism couldn’t quite make out the words and you let the hope thread its way down the dark tunnel, slowing though not quite ceasing your freefall into despair.  

“Maybe,” you offered, enough of a concession for him to work with. You looked up into his eyes, your foreheads still pressed together like goats fighting, and he smiled as a flicker of excitement lit up the sapphire depths.

“There will be adventures. Some hard, but some better than you could ever have believed. There is a world of possibilities out there and yes some of them will be painful, but there is pain here as well. It’s a certainty of life. But joy can be as well. And fun and laughter and reunions with loved ones. So yes, Y/N, hate endings. And hate beginnings too if you must. But do not deny yourself the experience of both anyway. Love is also painful and hard and scary and uncertain but still we fall. And even if it goes awry, we are usually the better for it.”

“You’re such a bard,” you laughed, this time a real one that rang like music in the air.

“A certainty if ever there was one,” he teased.

“I love you.”

The words fell from your lips softly and naturally, brain finally translating the feelings your heart had held for so long. Your eyes widened slightly in fear and then a boldness overtook you and you sat up a little straighter holding Jaskier’s gaze (blue eyes also widening though more in surprise than anything else).

“I love you,” you repeated, a choice this time, consciously made.

“Well,” Jaskier breathed, “There you have it. Another ending and beginning.”

“How so?” you asked, courage wavering. 

“Well, it’s the ending to me holding my tongue against all of the things I’ve been wanting to say and do to you,” he explained, leaning in a little closer.

“And the beginning of...?” your voice trailed off in question as your eyes fell to his lips. He licked them and you swallowed hard and echoed the action, heart pounding in something other than anxiety for the first time in ages. 

“Oh, love,” he smirked, “The beginning of whatever we want it to be.”