#i want to trap him under a glass like a tiny little bug

[howlingdemon13]

this evening has been mega-garbo for like 10 different reasons, but i made a tiny bit of progress on himst ;w;

he's a free source of serotonin and dopamine

[museofthepyre]

I am thinking about Fruity the fruit fly, and CHNT File 18 in general... (MAJOR CHNT S1 FINALE SPOILERS)

When Sydney and Jedidiah were playing house as children, Jedidiah grew an emotional attachment to a fruit fly they were pretend-parenting… he didn’t want to leave it behind, even after the day was over. So he decided to keep it. He put the fly in a container, kept it under his bed, and took it out every single day to admire from the outside of that tiny little jar… “He loved that bug. He thought that was enough.”

Then, the fruit fly died. It died because in all the time Jedidiah had it trapped within that container, throwing itself against the walls, unable to escape or advocate for itself… Jedidiah never thought to feed it. It starved in there, all alone. But… Jedidiah LOVED that bug. He thought that was enough.

When Jedidiah decided to resurrect Sydney— Sydney had no voice to speak for himself. Jedidiah could sense the imminence of their time together coming to an end (both due to their strained relationship, and Sydney’s failing health). But Jedidiah hates endings, he didn’t want to leave Sydney behind… even after their time was over.

So he decided to keep Sydney.

Resurrected, “alive”, if only within this little container.

Now Sydney is bound to the campgrounds, he can’t leave (he becomes incredibly sick, for yet unspecified reasons). He’s stuck in this lonely little jar that Jedidiah put him in to keep, so that he’d never have to let go— so that he could look in from the other side of the glass, as the insect throws itself against the walls of its enclosure, where it will slowly die of starvation and neglect.

Jedidiah is the only one who can “feed” Sydney (metaphor here being ‘nourishment via love’, as food often symbolizes love in CHNT… his presence and attention, etc)— he took on that responsibility when he decided to keep Sydney in this state of liminal existence (largely for his own sake, though I don’t believe he was aware of that subconscious motivation).

Leading up to the time in which Sydney was resurrected, he had no voice to advocate for himself— he had no say in it at all. We know Sydney likes closure, he likes endings, he’s stated “Any eternal life that any wannabe necromancer would try and offer you is bound to be a fate worse than death.” Would he have chosen this? Would he have chosen this pseudo-life of endless sickness and loneliness?

That question is irrelevant now, because Jedidiah made the choice for him, to bring him back… and then to leave him there. Alone, in this miserable existence that he did not choose, and he cannot leave. He’s trapped, alone, empty, and starving (you can see where I’m connecting things here).

I do think Jedidiah should be subject to criticism for his neglect of Sydney. It’s so much more complicated than “he shouldn’t be forced to spend time with Sydney if he doesn’t want to anymore”. He’s the one who put the fruit fly in the container, and closed the lid.

Some additional quotes that I’ve formed this analysis from:

Jedidiah makes me cry tears I love him very dearly, he truly thought he was doing the right thing, he was desperate and afraid— but that doesn’t mean he’s exempt from responsibility. File 18 feels like a little peek into his subconscious processes and this is just my personal interpretation of that :3 I love love love character analysis thanks for letting me ramble :3

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Final (Part 10.5)

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension / penetrative sex / handjob / a mercy nut / oral sex / unprotected sex

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

“Hi Bug,” he said.

“Did you eat?” He was speaking before his eyes made it back up into your face and it took you five whole seconds before your brain processed his question enough for you to manage a meager back and forth head shake as a response.

“We should eat.” Baekhyun stood up and walked the long way around the coffee table toward the kitchen, avoiding the space you occupied as he moved.

Eating was a good idea. It was getting late. Eating would give you something to do that wasn’t daydream about the way his thighs filled out his jeans and how strong his lap must feel to sit on top of.

You followed behind him into the kitchen. The wide galley layout afforded you with plenty of space to pass behind him without actually having to touch him but the urge was just too strong to resist. The cat was already out of the bag.

He was pulling out a frying pan, a cutting board and a knife as you passed behind him to move toward the fridge and you reached for him with your fingertips as you moved, trailing lightly over the wide expanse of his back from one broad shoulder to the other.

You looked back at him when your hand ran out of his back to touch and you caught the focus of his brown eyes that glanced up at yours and the smile on his face that he didn't try to hide. Cute. Oh god. Cute.

“What are we having, Peanut?”

You were standing in front of the open fridge and you wondered how unfair it would be to bend over to reach into the bottom vegetable drawer with him watching you like you knew he was. You pulled the drawer open and grabbed a few things trying not to think too much as you did it. If he looked, he looked. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you at home wearing not nearly enough clothing.

When you looked back at him, Baekhyun’s eyes were, impossibly, focused up high, on the contents of the fridge. He hadn’t been staring at your ass as you bent over, imaging taking you here in this kitchen in front of the open refrigerator. Of course he wouldn't. Baekhyun would never waste that much electricity. The fridge was fancy and had an alarm that rang when the door was left open for too long and the one time — the one(!!) time you’d let the door stay open long enough for the alarm to ring was because you’d dropped a sauce bottle on the floor and had been cleaning up the mess. The alarm started to ring and the man rushed into the kitchen just to shoot you a look so dirty you felt as if you were the mess that needed cleaning up; as if you had personally been the one holding the baseball bat and had been caught clubbing the baby seals. He was insane. He was crazy. God, you loved him.

He lifted a finger to point to something on the top shelf and you reached for the container you saw there. You felt the cool air of the fridge along the bare skin of your stomach when you reached up high and you remembered why you rarely wore this shirt. It was just too flowy and too prone to malfunctions such as this. Your eyes searched for his again and the man had turned around to mess with his stupid cutting board. He wasn't human.

Your mood and your desperation were mounting. You weren’t going to make it. You were going to do something stupid like take your clothes off in this kitchen. How much self control did he have? Why was he so annoyingly good at it? You could feel a buzzing in the base of your skull as you looked at him and you wondered if anyone had ever died from sexual frustration before.

You did not take off your clothes. Instead, you gave in to his agenda. As if anyone in their right mind could eat right now. You loaded your arms with various ingredients, figuring he was making some sort of stir fry and quietly dropped everything off beside his cutting board.

He was working quietly and not paying any attention to you at all. Were you the crazy one here? When did you turn into such a desperate woman? You were beginning to feel a little bit pathetic. Your skirt was so short. Your entire shoulder had been out this whole time and he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of that bedroom.

You grabbed a glass of cold water to drink. It didn't help but at least it was something to do. Your desperation was beginning to change into a numb sort of acceptance. Maybe this was just your life now. Perpetually turned on with no release. You’d have to buy more panties and change them often. Your usefulness in this kitchen was quickly coming to an end. You were out of things to do since the rice maker was still full of plenty of warm rice to eat and all of the dishes had already been cleaned and put away.

Baekhyun was busy cleaning and slicing vegetables and you’d grown tired of standing around not doing anything productive at all so you backed up against the counter beside where he worked and hopped up to sit and watch him work from this slightly elevated angle. If you didn't have anything to do, you would simply entertain yourself inside your own head as you watched the man you loved work on making you something to eat.

You were only a tiny bit irked that he seemed to be paying such close attention to these boring vegetables and not at all looking at your bare thighs that could be well within his line of sight if he would only look. You watched his brown eyes. They stayed fixed on the countertop below him.

His hair was drying, but was still a bit damp and you reached a hand forward to touch the softness of it and to feel the waves between your fingers. When you pushed the waves back away from his forehead he blinked and again his lips pulled into a smile. Even though he refused to look at you, he was still quite aware of you here. He hadn’t flinched when you touched his hair and the smile was definitely for you. It warmed you all over. He was so pretty. He was looking down and his eyelashes were dark and spread over his cheeks. His cheeks popped up when he smiled. You were pretty sure you were obsessed with the shape of this man’s face and when you could see his forehead he was nearly impossible to resist. You saw him bite down on the inside of his bottom lip. He scraped a pile of veggies off to the side and grabbed a carrot.

“LoveBug,” he said between chops. A smile formed on your lips and you tensed your smile to control it before you spoke out your soft reply to him.

“Yes Peanut?”

His forearm muscles flexed as he chopped and his lips pursed forward into a tiny pout. His face was a bit flushed for just chopping veggies and you noticed the tips of his ears were also pink.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

His knife stopped moving and he was stuck looking down at the board without any actual focus in his eyes at all as he waited for you to hear his question and answer him. It didn't look like he was breathing either. You hadn’t quite expected this question. Sure, it was kind of a given if the two of you were in love, but still, hearing him work up the courage to ask you this question out loud made your stomach do flips.

Your face was so hot. Your heart was pounding too loud again. Was that why he hadn't been looking at you all this time? Was he working up the courage for this? You swallowed and you had to lick your lips because they’d grown too dry from all the biting you’d been doing. You were biting because otherwise you would be screaming and he was holding a knife. It was a recipe for disaster. You couldn't go to a hospital right now, there was a global pandemic going on. Those resources were precious.

“Yes,” you said with your eyes on his face. He moved. His face lifted and his pink cheeks and pink lips and warm eyes were a gift to your soul. Baekhyun looked at you at last — at last, he looked up into your eyes. You’d been staring at him so openly all this time. You were intimately familiar with the shape of him. The angle of his pretty eyes; the layout of the moles on his face; the curve of his little nose that begged to be kissed; the pointed tips of his upper lip and the soft downturn of his bottom lip. You knew his face. You knew everything about it, but when he was actually looking at you, now that you had his focus and his attention on you, you suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

He was looking into your eyes and he’d gone completely still. The eye contact that he maintained, it seemed to build onto itself and you could not look away. You did not even want to. You felt positively trapped in his eyes and despite the fact that neither of you moved at all apart from the occasional blinking in his eyes and steady in and out of his lungs you still felt the pressure building the longer he stared into your face and the less in control of yourself you felt in his presence.

His muscles tensed all over and when his grip hardened around his knife, you heard a loud sound as the knife pressed through the thick carrot in his hand. The sound it made jolted through your entire body. The sound of the thick fibrous vegetable resisting just enough for the knife to struggle against it and then, just when it seemed like it might not, the blade won with a pop. It made it through, the loud chop as the strong high carbon steel hit the wooden board below it when the weaker gave under the pressure; it echoed out inside of your head and his lips parted and his eyelids sank halfway into a blink as he exhaled a held breath.

Baekhyun looked down at his board and then he came to life, suddenly grabbing the carefully sliced and obsessively separated piles all in different shades and colors and he abruptly piled the whole mess of it into the center of the board; he started rapidly chopping everything all together in smaller pieces. It was frantic. The change in his behavior was jarring. What had gotten into him? Was it the same thing that had gotten into you?

“What are you doing? I thought you were doing stir fry,” you recognized the odd behavior and abrupt change of plans based on what he was doing with his ingredients.

“Fuck it. Fried rice. It’s fast. You'll eat it.”

You let your surprised laugh escape and his brows were furrowed with the effort as he chopped everything all together.

“Why are you just trying to feed me? You haven't eaten anything either.”

“Yeah but you were too upset to eat this morning. You can’t skip meals because it makes you feel bad. You’ll eat this and—”

He was turning around, away from you and away from every bit of temptation you waved in front of him, with all of his haphazardly chopped ‘stir fry demoted to fried rice’ ingredients and you heard the click of the stove as he turned the flame on.

“I’ll eat this and what?” You asked over his shoulder and you let your eyes wander down the curve of his spine down to his narrow waist.

“And calm down?” You mumbled to yourself, “the cold shower didn’t work.”

You hadn’t quite so openly ogled him before and you decided that you had simply been insane before. How could you have possibly lived with this man for two years and not thrown yourself at him before? How in the hell was he still a virgin with a face like that? You tossed your head to one side and tried to remember the last time he left the house. Even before 2020, the year from hell, the man simply didn't like to go out. He didn't like meeting new people and he definitely didn't like situations that involved many of those new people. That didn't mean he didn't try in the past. He’d mentioned being stood up before so that meant he had made an attempt to date, right? God, he was gorgeous. You could see the back of his neck as he worked and when he moved the pan around over the burner to spread the oil his arm muscles flexed.

He was adding things to his pan. Cooking and frying noises and smells were building surprisingly quickly and before you could even move from your perch on the counter he was scooping rice into a bowl that he stuck a spoon in from the drawer and he turned back around and returned to you holding the bowl in his hand. He was back now. You had him back.

“The shower didn’t work for me either,” he said honestly and you dropped your hands to brace on the countertop beside your bare thighs to keep yourself from losing your balance. It felt like a confession. He’d tried the shower to calm down too. He was affected by you and was struggling with his control too. Only from the way he was keeping his hands off of you right now, it was clear who was doing a better job with their self control. You wondered about the kinds of fantasies that played out in his head.

Baekhyun was holding a spoon full of rice up to your face and he inhaled a deep breath of air into his lungs that stuttered on the way in.  The stutter in his breath had you swimming inside your own head.

“How am I supposed to eat right now?” It was a genuine question. The man was driving you insane, you could feel the effects of his looks, his words, his kisses from earlier, and the maddening way he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of your bedroom. What did you have to do to get just one more kiss; just one hand on your thigh; just one more; just one more — you were ready to bargain or beg even.

“Three bites,” he said and he was breathing heavily when he did it. “Ahh,” he followed up with opening his mouth wide just like he wanted you to do for him.

You leaned forward then; bypassing the waiting spoon of rice. He was so close. You leaned and you pressed your lips against his lips. It was a tiny kiss and you heard the low grunt that left the back of his throat when you did it. His lips molded into yours and he pursed them, returning the kiss; giving into you so easily. When you pulled back his eyes were closed and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.

Everything about him was pretty. His teeth were pretty. His tongue was pretty. His nose and his chin and his eyes were pretty. You felt drunk.

“Three bites and you can have anything you want, my love, I promise.”

Oh, he was playing a dangerous game with you. Calling you something like this when all of your skin felt like it was on fire. It was too much. It was all too much. You felt the blush heat your skin from your cheekbones down past your chest plate and you closed your eyes to try and keep some sort of semblance of sanity and you opened your mouth.

You felt the spoon push inside and it met your tongue. You closed your mouth around the food and chewed carefully. You tasted nothing. You ate it just to get the food inside of you so you wouldn't feel lightheaded later or gross for having skipped too many meals. He was right. You needed to eat something. He was taking care of you again and you felt one more drop of love splash against the inside of your heart walls. If he kept this up, it might just overflow and then what would become of you? You could hear the spoon scraping in the bowl he held and you heard the blowing sounds coming from his lips as he cooled the next spoonful to keep the hot temperature from burning your tongue. Another drop; another splash. You were screwed.

You’d swallowed it down and quickly opened your mouth for the next spoon, getting it over with to placate him.

The last spoonful went down easily and you opened your eyes when you felt a glass with cool water pushed into your hand which you drank down as well watching in amusement as Baekhyun also seemed to be chewing and swallowing rice he’d taken from the same bowl with the same spoon. His cheeks were puffed and you offered the rest of the water which he accepted and drained quickly.

“So you tried a shower too?”

He choked on his water when you said it and you adjusted the way you sat on the countertop, slipping forward a little so you could lean back on your hands as he was coughing. Your short skirt rode up a little more and you looked down to see most of your thighs bare. You let your knees open more. It felt like an invitation. He could touch you if he wanted to. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this. Your wardrobe didn’t usually leave all that much to the imagination when you were relaxing at home.

“Cold one?” You asked. You weren’t usually so brazen. But this was Baekhyun and he was your boyfriend now. You wanted to scream from the pent up excitement sat inside of your belly when you thought about it.

“Freezing,” he said and he’d abandoned the food and water on the counter in front of him. His eyes were squeezed shut and he leaned forward with both of his hands resting on the countertop beside where you sat. You watched the side profile of his face and you waited for him. You did not move or touch him in any way at all. You held your breath and you held your tongue and you waited.

Baekhyun pulled himself up and he took a step to the side so that he now stood directly in front of you. His slim hips fit between your parted knees and you could feel the rough fabric of his denim jeans scratch against the inside of your upper thighs. You did not move at all. You just watched his face as he oh so carefully placed himself between your parted legs and you felt the first light pass of his fingertips as he touched your knee.

That first touch, that gentle tickle from his slim fingers that moved over the round hill of your kneecap and then, with barely there pressure, slipped up the outside of your bare thigh and did not stop at the fabric of your skirt but kept moving along your bare skin, just the tips of his fingers, just the tips of him that you loved the most; he kept touching and you could hardly contain it. The touch was so light, so fucking delicate you wanted to cry. He took your sanity and your breath and tossed them both far away from you.

When you lost your breath it left your lips in a quiet moan and your eyes closed on their own.

You moved your hands. They ached to hold him. You reached around his waist and pulled him toward you and he fit inside well when you moved your hips forward off the edge of the counter and when you slipped your face into the space below his chin where you could smell the skin of his neck, the smell of him overloaded your senses. It was just soap. He was just clean smelling but he smelled so unbelievably comfortable and familiar you inhaled deeply with your lips parted just over the surface of his skin.

The closer proximity gave you another sensation. You could feel the heat and stiffness between his legs that fit so perfectly between your own. You wanted to wrap around him. You wanted him closer. The desire was powerful and you felt the grip of his hand as he squeezed high on your thighs and his hips pushed forward for the sake of the friction itself.

“I promised,” you felt the vibration of his voice in your lips that you pressed against the side of his neck, “anything you want — you can have anything.”

It wasn’t quite a question. His statement was fractured and you could hear the trembling in his voice that made his thoughts as unstable as you felt inside of yourself right now.

“What is it you want to do? Do you want to watch a movie? Hmm? Do you want to go for a walk? Is there something else you want?”

You felt his words vibrating though his chest. You loved the sound of his voice but feeling it echoing against your own skin brought a warm comfort into your soul.

“I,” you had to keep your eyes closed and you pulled your lips away from his skin for a second. “I don't want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

As flimsy as you felt inside you knew you would never forgive yourself for pressuring him. You knew you needed to hear it from his own lips that he wanted more before you would let anything happen. You’d take 10 more frozen showers if you had to; just to hold yourself back.

You could feel it in that moment. You had a lifetime only for him. You could wait a lifetime for him.

“Bug, what are you doing? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” He was speaking just above your head and despite the pressure inside your heart to stop, to wait, to keep yourself under control you still gave into the urge to tighten your thighs around his hips and push your pelvis forward against him. You still pulled him into you with the arms you’d wrapped around him and you heard the trembling moan that vibrated through his chest wall.

“I can stop if you want. Peanut, tell me to stop and I will stop.”

His hands left your hips and you loosened your hold around his body when he moved. When you pulled your face back his hands were in his own hair and he was scratching roughly at his scalp with his fingers and his face was screwed together in a tight scrunch of all of his features. It was a look of confusion. It was uncertain and unsure and you looked at his face with your head cocked to the side when it dawned on you that he wasn’t picking up on the many many obvious clues you were putting down. Was he just so used to you cuddling and touching him that he really did not know what you wanted from him? Did he not watch you rip down the sign from your door and sit down here on this counter with your skirt hiked up so far he could probably see your panties if he just dropped his chin a few inches. Did he really have no idea?

“Stop what? What are you stopping? What is happening right now? I don't understand. You never told me what you wanted. And I can't think straight with you touching me so much. I’m going crazy. Tell me what to do.”

Was this real? You looked into the pained expression on his face and you lifted your eyebrows in surprise at what you saw. You saw him holding back. You saw him suffering through it. You saw confusion and uncertainty in his brown eyes and you realized that you had to be very blunt with him for him to get it. He’d been so conditioned to hide his attraction for you that this was completely new and uncharted territory for him. Despite the fact that you’d removed the stupid sign from your door and could feel the frustration all over your body from holding yourself back and the man was very clearly extremely aroused right now; you could feel how ready his body was for this, it was driving you crazy to have to stop this and tell him in plain words exactly what you wanted from him.

“Sex, Baekhyun. I am talking about sex. I want to have sex with you.”

As quickly as you’d said it, you inhaled to speak again. To clarify. To add important parameters that protected his heart.

“But, when you are ready. I absolutely don't want you doing anything you don't want to do, just because I ate three stupid bites of food. That’s actually not how this works. We have to both be ready. I will be okay no matter what we do or don't do. Please tell me you understand this is just me telling you that whenever you want to, I am ready. I want to do this with you.”

Baekhyun had removed his hands from your skin and he was still standing with his hands raised above his head. You’d pulled your legs away from his warmth and had dropped your hands to rest over your own knees as you spoke to him and he was looking into your face, watching you very carefully as you spoke with his lips parted and an indecipherable expression in his face. His eyes ticked around your features. He closed his mouth and then opened it again and you watched the words you had told him in earnest sink in deep.

When you stopped talking there was a moment when neither of you moved at all until you heard him inhale a quick breath.

“Yes,” he said and his eyebrows lifted briefly as his eyelids closed halfway, “yes,” he whispered again and his head was nodding up and down in quick shallow bursts, “yes,” he said a third time and he licked his lips quickly.

“Yes, I want to. I want to.”

His lips hung open when he quit speaking and he pushed the tip of his tongue along the edge of his front teeth. He looked into your eyes and you looked into his and you could feel the understanding coat you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. With his eyes on you; with his love in his heart; with the furrow of his eyebrows and the quiet way his head sunk to the side and the push of air from deep within his lungs; he wanted you. He wanted you to be his first.

You watched him change before your eyes. The look in his eyes darkened when the minutes passed and the desire he’d expressed out loud sat in the space between your faces and inflated and swelled until you reached out and touched it with your careful fingertips. You absorbed it and he watched you do it. You would accept his consent, this precious thing. His tongue vanished somewhere inside of his mouth and he was breathing through his parted lips as his eyes roamed over your face.

The quiet understanding moved your body and you used the small space he’d given you to hop down off of the kitchen counter. When you moved you felt him take a step back and you pivoted on your feet, brushing your shoulder over his broad warm chest in the tiny space that you and he occupied in this kitchen.

As you moved you felt the back of your hand brush against his and you reached for his fingers with your own and when you took your first steps out of the kitchen you pulled his hand and he followed you where you moved past the dining table, past the living room and the light changed when you reached the darkened hallway that led to your bedroom.

Your bedroom was dimly lit. Your table lamp sat illuminated in the corner beside your bed and the sheer curtains let in enough light for you to see the nervous expression on his face and the way he licked his lips and swallowed away the moisture in his mouth.

Baekhyun came into your bedroom after you did and you saw him turn around and close your door behind him. The action made you feel tense. The intimacy of this small space made you feel very warm. Your bedroom was smaller than his and it hadn’t occurred to you until he did it that he had never closed himself up entirely in here with you before. In all of your experiences with him coming into your room in the past he always left your door open and something about him closing it behind him made this feel all the more real. You had sudden butterflies bumping around inside your stomach.

When he turned back around to face you he ran one trembling hand through his hair and his steps paused halfway through the room as he seemed to second guess his destination mid journey. He recovered though and pushed through it, coming to stop in front of your bed and turning around to sit down on the edge of it with his hands on his knees.

He was acting so nervous that it was making you feel nervous too. In fact, now that he was in here with you he seemed to be more nervous than he was excited about this. It made you pause.

“Are you okay?” You sat down beside him on your bed with your small question and you felt the warmth of his arm as you leaned against him.

Baekhyun closed his eyes and he inhaled a breath. You felt him exhale slowly and with it he leaned against you, slumping hard against your arm and he was warm and he was everywhere. The connection, that contact was powerful with how quickly you were overcome with the warmth and the feeling of him.

“I’m just anxious...I don't really know what I’m doing. What if I’m bad at it?”

He wasn’t second guessing doing this with you. He was naturally unsure of how things might go and was probably putting way too much pressure on himself to live up to some made up standard he’d set in his own head.

You stood up suddenly, feeling very in love with this man and feeling a strong need to protect him from everything, even from his own self doubts. He was brilliant. He was a good person. He was good at everything he did. He was already so good at loving you. You could see it in everything he did for you.

Your movement pulled his focus and his eyes followed when you moved to stand in front of him. You took a step closer to him, and your legs landed between his parted knees. His hands remained fisted stubbornly on his own knees but his eyes were open and he was looking at you standing in front of him.

“Baekhyun, do you trust me?”

He didn’t hesitate. He nodded his head up and down and you smiled down at him as he looked up at you. You lifted a hand and ran it over the back of his head and you saw the blink of his eyes when you slipped your fingers into his hair and scraped them against the back of his scalp. His lips parted and his eyes rolled.

“And do you love me?”  

Your other hand cupped his pretty face and his eyes opened back up as he looked at you again. He nodded his head again, slower this time.

“Then that’s all it takes to be good at it. I’ll help you with the details. You just do what feels good.”

“Just do what feels good? I can do that.” He whispered into the quiet space of your dark bedroom and you felt the heat flooding along the surface cells of your skin. He had been sitting when he reached for you as he stood and placed his hands on the sides of your face.

“Kissing you feels good,” he said and the warmth of his breath could not prepare you for him. You felt his mouth cover yours. You felt his tongue and his teeth biting lightly as he pulled your bottom lip inside of his mouth.

“Touching you feels good,” he whispered into your open mouth. You felt his hands then and he was everywhere. You were unprepared. This was not something you would survive with your sanity intact. You’d wanted so much. You’d waited for so long that the first real kiss, the first real touches from his hands rendered you nearly completely incapacitated.

The short skirt afforded him an expansive lot of skin to explore with his wandering hands. He gripped and he squeezed behind you, you felt the tips of his fingers squeeze your ass roughly and his hips were pushing into you. As convenient as these clothes were, they quickly lost their charm. You needed more skin. You needed to be done with them. You lifted both of your hands and you placed them on his shoulders and you firmly pushed him down to sit on the bed in front of you. He complied instantly and his eyes opened to look into your face as his heavy breaths flew through his parted lips.

You reached for the bottom of your shirt and you lifted straight up, pulling it over your head in a single smooth motion and before you lost the nerve you reached for the side zipper of your skirt and pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor you stepped out of it.

A burst of pride filled your chest. You’d made a good decision with the matching bra and panties set.

His eyes were on you and you saw a spark in them. This was a new expression on him that you hadn’t seen, although something in his eyes as he looked at you brought along a wave of deja vu. Something you’d only seen as quick as a lightning flash in his eyes as he kneeled before your naked body that night, the night of the storm.

He was looking at you and then he was touching you. You felt his warm hands slip a slow pathway along your hips.

“God, Bug. You’re so fucking pretty, I’m not going to make it.” When he leaned into you, you felt his mouth, the softness of his lips and the warm puff of air from his breathing as he inhaled his oxygen from the bare skin the space just below your breasts. His hands traveled now, with firmer pressure as he moved, you felt slim fingertips move higher and slip below the back strap of your bra.

You promised you’d help with the details. You reached behind and unclasped your bra hooks and the elastic gave. You pulled the garment down your arms and Baekhyun was leaning back onto your bed, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he leaned, he pulled you with him. His mouth was on your skin, he tasted and he when he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth and sucked you nearly lost your mind. Your back arched and you moaned, closing your eyes tightly as his mouth worked on the sensitive nub. He moved like a fire and his hands touched you everywhere. Absolutely nothing about the way he touched you felt like he had any capacity in his whole body to be bad at this.

“This is too much,” he complained into your skin. You felt it too, but you craved even more.

You needed his skin. You wanted to feel it under your fingertips and with your lips. You wanted to kiss him and taste him and smell him as he was doing to you.

When you reached for his shirt, he left you pull it off him and when your hands flew to the button of his jeans he sat up on his knees to let you unzip him.

You felt that your own breathing was frantic. You felt too out of control. You wanted too much too fast to stand this.

Baekhyun stood to push himself out of his jeans and he joined you again with thin boxers straining against his hard erection. Your legs parted and you pulled him into you, still clothed in your panties and he landed perfectly in between your parted legs on the bed. His breathing was too fast and he whined out loud when you reached for him and palmed his hardness over his underwear. With every touch you could see him teetering on the edge. He would not last this way. You didn't really want him to.

“Too much. It’s too much. Fuck.” His self control was shaky. He was already a mess. You felt drunk on the sight of him. The sounds he made, trembling, whining with his eyes closed and with your hands on him, those noisy sounds hit you like heroin, you wanted him to come. You wanted to hear it and you watched to watch his face as he did it.

“I’m not going to make it. It’s too much already, I can’t,” he was whining again and his mouth was on yours as he kissed you, pulling your tongue into his mouth when you gave it to him. He was shaking already. You could see him losing control. If you kept touching him he would come in his boxers.

“You can come first,” you whispered into his ear before you bit down on the smooth skin of his neck. His breaths came out in jagged bursts.  

“But, too soon,” he complained with closed eyes. Your hand rubbed over him again and his hips pushed forward into the feeling as you squeezed and pulled with your palm around the cloth covered head of his dick.

“I want you to come first. You feel so good in my hand like this. I want to hear you come for me Baekhyun and then I’ll show you how you can touch me until you’re ready again.”

Your fingers slipped under the elastic of his waistband as you spoke and you felt him stiffen on top of you when you wrapped your hand around the smooth skin of his shaft.

“Oh God, Oh God,” he called out in his beautiful voice once you’d gotten him inside of your hand. You could feel the drops of wetness that had already collected at his tip and you used your thumb to spread the wetness over him and he let out a loud whine from the back of his throat as you did it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t — I have to —” he complained and you felt his muscles contract as he stiffened on top of you, he pushed again with his hips and with his mouth open and his eyes screwed shut you felt the first pulses along the length of him followed by the rush of warm liquid that flooded the palm of your hand and seeped through the thin fabric of his boxers. He trembled all over as he came and he went motionless save for the occasional satisfying twitch.

You felt positively possessed by the arousal. You pulled your hand out from his boxers and much of his mess had quickly soaked his underwear and even the panties you still wore and the bed sheets below you both felt sticky and moist. Still you saw the shine of wetness on your fingertips and his eyes followed you as you stuck your fingertips into your mouth and sucked off the taste of him, swallowing down the taste of his cum.

He reeled from it. He breathed heavily and his mouth hung open, the evidence of just how much all of this affected him written as plain as day all over his face. His eyebrows screwed together and then he moved a hand down the inside of your thigh, running his fingertips lightly over the soaked fabric of the lace panties you wore. Most of it was from you.

“Take them off,” you said. His fingers pulled at the sides and you lifted your hips as he rolled them off your legs.

When he came back his eyes feasted and his hands moved slowly, reaching forward for you, cautious yet desperate to touch everywhere. The first touches were light and you moved your hand down to place your warm palm over his hand between your legs. The details; the right place to touch you and the right amount of pressure. He was paying close attention to your fingers and you could feel his hand following your lead. He was driving you crazy. You were so desperate for him.

“Do you feel how wet you made me?”

You knew how wet you were. You were dealing with it for a significant amount of time already but something about guiding his fingers and slipping them between your folds as you taught him the movements; the way to make you come. He was directing his fingers and moving them over you in a way that felt amazing, you felt quickly undone with the rhythmic passes over your clit. You were so turned on even this amount of touch from him had you squirming in place almost immediately.

“I did this?” He had a spark in his eyes as he asked and you saw the small grin that took over his face. His eyes were on your face as he moved and you pulled your hand away when you noticed he caught on instantly to the kinds of movements that could drive you crazy. Every sound you made had him chasing the same sound and every time you flinched his eyes would fly up to your face as if you were a puzzle he had to solve and he was determined to get it right. You felt his fingers moving over your clit, pulling between digits and adding pressure when he abruptly pulled his hand away you opened your eyes and gasped at the sudden loss. He had dropped his shoulders and you saw the top of his head with his fluffy hair buried between your legs a split second before you felt the softness of the tip of his wet tongue slip between your folds and bump against the already swollen and oversensitive spot.

The man was an overachiever. You gasped out loud when his mouth opened and the suction of his mouth pulled hard enough to send a jolt of electric pleasure through your nervous system. You cried out and squirmed below his mouth and he pushed his fingers inside of you as he did it again. The room spun. You had to close your eyes and your hands reached down to touch his head. You threaded your fingers into his hair and when he did it again you gripped around the brown strands, you pulled his hair as he pulled hard with his mouth. He moved his tongue at the same time and you could not contain the trembling or the strong wave you gave into as you came. Your legs were shaking and he was still pulling. It was quickly becoming too much to take. You squeezed your thighs and reached for him, pushing him firmly away, he quickly pulled his face up from between your legs and the man was soaked. You were trying to breath and he was smiling his wide and blinding smile at you.

“Baekhyun, how?” You couldn't get the words out. You felt too out of breath from the orgasm and his smile was so lovely he lit up the room with it. You shook your head back and forth and exhaled the first breath that wasn’t shaking since he’d gotten his mouth on you.

“Did I do it right?” He was fishing. He sat there on his ankles and the moisture on his chin and neck reflected the dim lighting from your lamp.

“So good, Baekhyun. It was so fucking good. You’re amazing.” His nose scrunched and his eyes blinked when you said it. It was the truth. You hadn’t imagined that he could learn so quickly and perform so well. You could see the puff of his chest with your honest compliments and his hands were touching you again— light, absentminded touches; you felt him move again. The fire felt somewhat quenched for now as he moved and he blinked slowly at you as he dipped and he shifted in place. He was pushing his boxers off as he moved and you could see from the light in the window the beautiful shape of him completely bare before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said in awe at the sight of him. He licked his lips and glowed in the dim lighting. His smile pulled at his lips and you swooned to see him. You could also see that he was hard again.

You reached for him when he dropped to you and you met in the middle, reaching for his face as he reached for yours and his lips and tongue tasted like your arousal for a moment before you swallowed the taste away and found that familiar taste of him. The undeniable and addictive smell of the air that came from his lungs. The scent of the thin layer of sweat that sat over his skin and the heat that mingled and mixed with the smell of your own skin as he pressed himself against you.

Baekhyun was situated with his hips between your legs and you held your breath when you felt the first bump of his hardness as he slipped around within your wetness.

He pushed himself up on his knees and his eyes looked into yours. He didn’t move right away but you felt him reaching down between where you were separated and his eyes were down on his hand as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Baekhyun was looking into your eyes when you felt the tip of him and he pushed himself inside. He pushed forward with his hips; you felt the stretch; the pressure of it. A gasp escaped your lips and his eyes were on you when his mouth fell open. He pushed further and his eyes rolled back into his head, closing up as he filled you completely. You were filled. It stole your oxygen. You were overwhelmed by everything.

He went completely motionless when he got inside of you. When he was finally inside of you.

“Oh my god,” he said with his eyes closed up. His head was moving and small whimpers came from his throat when he pulled out and he pushed in again. You were transfixed by watching his face. “Holy fuck,” he spoke freely and noisily and when he wasn’t whining he was moaning out loud. When he wasn’t moaning he was cursing and you were lost under the spell of him. He quickly found a rhythm as he chased the need to move, pulling out and pushing in again and his movements grew more confident.

You were getting lost in him. You could feel the way your body clung to him tightly and you pulled him into you when he pulled away. Your mouth found his as he dropped down to you and pushed inside roughly and you wrapped around him when you felt him rolling. You found yourself surrounding him and surrounded by him at the same time. You were on top of his lap and the dizziness of the movement made your head spin. His arms wrapped around your waist and he sat up with you on him and still inside of you and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and you held on to him so tightly. Tight enough that the movements of your body slowed and you felt him push deep inside of you again and again. His mouth was on yours and you shared the same air just as completely as you shared the same space.

Your heart was raging inside of your chest and the ache to get closer to him pulsed with it. The need for closeness was overwhelming. Your nails dug into the skin on his back and you bit down on his shoulder with your teeth. The need was too deep. Your mind was lost to it and you whimpered into the skin of his neck when you felt the wave overtake you again.

You were lost.

You were lost.

You could feel yourself shaking all over and you squeezed tightly around him when you felt the flood of his heat inside of you and the heavy breathing in your own chest mirrored his own as he gripped your body tightly and held you so close to him.

The spell took ages to break. You held onto each other for too many heavy breaths to count and when you lifted your head from where you were buried in his neck his hands lifted to cradle the back of your head.

Baekhyun’s lips were back. He kissed you deeply and slowly and you melted into him, feeling the fatigue in your limbs nagging you.

You were laid down and the substantial messes were ignored for now. You were kissed again and again and when those kisses turned quicker and sloppier you felt your own lips pulling into a smile.

Your body was nagging you though. You felt the need to clean yourself up. You knew you’d have clean your bed too and when you’d finally managed to extract yourself from his arms and his lips you made your way into your bathroom. It was your second shower of the day only this time you turned on the hot water to heat up.

A quick peek into your bedroom gave you a glimpse of him. Baekhyun was laying on your bed, still naked and laying flat on his back. After a few moments he moved and sat up, pulling the sheet below his body with the tips of his fingers. He was making a face to himself, scrunching up his nose and sticking his tongue out as he pulled on the wet fabric of your bed sheets and it made you laugh out loud.

“Is it always this messy? Bug—” he was calling out to you from the bed. He looked a little like he might be trapped there. “Bug? Bug, help. It’s all over my stomach. What do I do with it?”  

His hands were reaching out and you saw him grab the first soft thing he touched. It was pink and it was fluffy and it had been sitting in the corner of your bed. Your temper flashed hot. He was not about to use your cutest most innocent stuffed animal for this.

“Peanut, if you wipe up your cum with Mr. Nibbles, I’ll never, ever forgive you. Put him down.”

His hand opened and the pink fluff fell to the floor below. Safe for now. Baekhyun was sitting up on the side of your bed and he was mumbling to himself. “It’s not just mine, LoveBug. We made this mess together.”

“Well let’s clean up together then,” you said, with a few steps in his direction and reached for his arm, pulling him up from the bed toward your bathroom where the hot water was steaming up the mirror and calling out to you. The building hunger pangs in your stomach called to you as well. All at once, the needs came at you one by one.

You heard a low stomach rumble coming from the beautiful naked man whose arm you pulled through the doorway of your bathroom.

“And then we can eat together,” you sing-songed and you heard the small huff of a laugh that came from his nose. His smile was wide and he looked at you with so much affection in his eyes.

“And then we can take a walk together and hold hands, and watch a movie together and we can wash the bed sheets together and play a game together. An easy game though. Not one of those hard ones where I just die and die. We can play a nice game together and you can let me win at least one time. Not every time, just once is fine. I can’t win every time, it’s just not realistic. I will understand. I am a very understanding person.”

You weren't done. Once you’d gotten going you really couldn't help the excitement that took you over when you imagined all of the things you wanted to do with him. You had a list in your head of all of the things you wanted and you could hear the quiet giggles from Baekhyun that were nearly drowned out by the running water that you were about to step inside.

“Oh! And then we can delete your dating profile together and you can tell me how long you’ve been in love with me and I will tell you about all of the sex dreams I’ve had about you. And then—”

His hand pulled you back. The warm water had been so close you could already feel the refreshing cleanliness that was just within your grasp. The frown that formed on your lips was short lived because you felt his warm arms encircle your shoulders and he pulled you into his chest.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he was saying it again and again. You could hear the smile on his lips as he said it and his love declarations coated you completely both inside and out and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your arms as you squeezed him tightly.

“We have so much to do together,” he said softly into your hair after the truth of the love declarations had settled and you ran your hand through the back of his head, pulling his hair through your fingertips with each pass.

“A lifetime of them,” you said. Your heart felt so full and somehow you couldn’t find it in you to feel anxious about saying this to him. It was the truth that you felt inside of your heart, you felt it so completely.

He pulled his face back to look into your face and you saw a remarkable serenity in his warm brown eyes. His lips pulled into an easy smile and he inhaled a breath to respond to you.

“A lifetime, Bug,” he said with a nod of his head and a spark in his eyes, “together.”

[The End]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex @sorrowinblood @catseohyun @rossemayme @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @marovekian1 @versaexact@czechkpoptrash

[rebrandedbard]

Number 16 - “It could be worse.”

My writing method is just chucking prompt phrases into a mixing bowl with Cool Historical Artistry Facts, a pinch of aesthetic, and a dash of lore, baking it in a pressure cooker and seeing what we get and I love that you encourage this.

16. “It could be worse.”

wc: 1738

Thunderstruck

Geralt and Jaskier come face to face with a violent lightning storm and hide out in a cave. Jaskier is afraid of thunder and lightning. Geralt helps him through it.

-

 Zeniths were a spectacle. To be present in the height of a storm, to be in the midst of its power and bear witness to its thrall is a mighty thing, even in its horror. It served as a reminder of one’s insignificance, and what a magnificent blessing it was to be thus. Jaskier stared out at the storm in awe. He jumped back from the mouth of the cave with a shriek as a bolt of lightning crashed down, splitting the bark from a tree not fifty paces away. Strong arms reached out to catch him as he went stumbling backward.

“It could be worse,” Geralt joked.

The thunder’s echo still rumbled through the cave’s walls, dying under the crash of another, and another, the cave never silent. Jaskier covered his ears and scowled at Geralt. “Oh really?” he asked, raising his voice against the deafening noise. “I feel I’m inside a war drum! I’m jumping out of my skin!” There was a crackling in the atmosphere that stood his hair on end. He’d never experienced anything more frightening in his life, and he’d had to drag Geralt from the edge of death with a mad nightwraith on the prowl.

He shouted and buried himself under Geralt’s arm as another bolt of lightning touched the earth, the sound following not a fraction of an instance after the light flashed. “Why is it touching the ground?” he panted, heart racing in his chest like a frantic horse. His skin was pale in the darkness, almost white, illuminated by the flash of lightning. He shook, his eyes wide with fear. “It’s so close. I swear, a god is trying to smite us, Geralt.”

Another crash outside and Jaskier tucked his head, hands flat against his ears. He whimpered, and Geralt had never known him to show such fear. The fear he knew was comical at times, more urgency or discomfort than any true terror. But this—this was a fear Geralt knew in others. Jaskier reeked of it, and it burned to breathe it in.

Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier, leading him back into the depths of the cave where Roach waited. He set to work making camp, removing the saddle and setting out their bedrolls. With a tug, he pulled Jaskier down onto one, then positioned Jaskier so he lay with his head against his arm. He placed his own hand over Jaskier’s other ear so the sound was twice as muffled.

“Close your eyes,” Geralt said. He then made a sign with his hand and a bright purple glow spread over them. The storm seemed to disappear, only the low bass rumbling through. It sounded distant as if their heads were under water.

Jaskier opened his eyes, blinking in the odd glow. He slowly pulled his hands away from his ears, squinting at the pulsating barrier in a dome around them. “Is this …?”

“Quen,” Geralt answered. “It … dampens the noise.”

Jaskier turned his head to look at him. “You used a sign for me? But you said using signs outside of battle was frivolous.”

Geralt did not meet his eye. He shrugged, putting his hands over Jaskier’s ears once more. “It’s a precaution. In case the storm collapses the cave,” he grunted.

“And covering my ears as we lay together?”

“Would you rather I cover your mouth?”

Jaskier managed a nervous laugh. His heartbeat began to slow—cautiously—and his trembling to cease. He closed his eyes once more. To Geralt’s surprise, Jaskier rolled over, tucking his head beneath his chin. Geralt’s hand fell over his shoulders, cradling him.

For a moment, Geralt felt uncertain. But as Jaskier nestled, breathing gently against him, he wrapped his arms more securely around his form. Though there was little need with the barrier in place, he flattened one hand over Jaskier’s exposed ear and used the motion to tuck his head closer. They lay together until the storm passed, the hours fading into sleep.

 Geralt followed the faint hum of his medallion in the early dawn. His boots crunched over the splinter of charred wood. The fragments littered the area, and the tree had collapsed in the night. He found the place they’d been camping before the rain broke over their heads. The wood of their campfire now lay in a soaking pile, barely blackened. Beyond their camp lay the sandy shore of the lake, and it was there that his medallion led.

Upon the yellow sands he crouched. He brushed the sands carefully as he searched. It was something he’d read about before, something left in the wake of powerful storms when the sky reached down to touch the earth. In the old tales, it was meant as a gift from the gods; a promise that no storm should ever again harm the one blessed with it. The stories were so old, he thought they had no true merit, but the medallion made him rethink his position. He felt a solid bump on the surface of the sand and dug around it. As he dug, a strange tendril emerged. Then another, like the root of a tree in its shape.

Geralt dug the lightning from the earth, made solid and harmless. The glass was explosive, its many branches reaching outward, smooth in places where the lightning melted the sand best, grainy in others. He turned it in his hands, struck with wonder. Touching the thin ends of one branch, the glass snapped free. Upon examination he found that it was hollow within; the lightning had escaped its vessel.

Fishing out his dagger, Geralt selected a wide tendril and scored one end. He tapped it with the handle of his dagger and it fell free in his hand with a clean line. He scored it again, tapped, and a ring fell from the glass. After a bit of searching in his bag, he found a sanding block, pasted with dogfish. He sprinkled a pinch of sand over the block and rubbed the sharp ends of the glass ring over the abrasive surface, smoothing them away.

He washed the ring in the lake and tested its edge carefully. When he was sure the edge was dull, he fished a length of leather cord from his bag and looped it around, tying off the ends. He wrapped the rest of the glass in his spare clothes and carried the lot back to the cave.

By this time, Jaskier was beginning to stir.

Geralt tapped his shoulder. “Hey,” he coaxed. “Wake up, I’ve brought you something.”

Jaskier turned over groggily. “Is it breakfast?” he asked. “If it is, you can leave it by the fire. I’ll get to it. Just … twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes indeed. Geralt chuckled and pried one of Jaskier’s eyes opened. “It’s not breakfast. It’s something rare. Something I think you’ll find fascinating.”

“Can’t I be fascinated in the late morning for a change?” Jaskier complained. But in spite of the early hour, he sat upright and rubbed his eyes. “Alright, I’m up. What’s so rare and fascinating? Are we off to see some nigh-extinct bird that only comes out at dawn in this isolated range of the mountain? Some magical fish that walks on land two days of the year during mating season?”

“Give me your hand,” Geralt said.

Jaskier squinted at him in suspicion. “Geralt of Rivia, I swear: if you’ve woken me up to put a bug in my hands, I will spit in your eye.”

Geralt sighed as he reached into his bag. “It’s not a bug. Will you just do it?”

Cautiously, Jaskier held out his hand, still keeping it rigidly close to snatch away should he spy any hint of a creepy crawly thing, whether by leg or antenna. Geralt rolled his eyes and pulled his hand forward. He dropped the ring into his palm, letting the cord drape over the side.

Jaskier’s eye widened and he picked up the ring, inspecting it in the early morning light. The glass was a marbled yellow and white, speckled with flecks here and there of brown and tiny black particles. “Oh,” he whispered in admiration. “Oh, what is it?”

“Fulgurite. Lightning glass.”

“Lightning glass?”

Geralt nodded. “When lightning strikes sand, it melts it into its shape. There are stories of it, though I’d never seen it before. In some stories, the lightning becomes trapped in the glass, released only when it is broken; a punishment from the gods for those who wished to claim their power of nature for themselves.”

He opened his bag and removed the hollow glass for Jaskier to inspect. “There are friendlier stories,” he explained, “wherein the glass is a blessing. After difficult storms pass, a mass of fulgurite is left behind. He who finds it and carries it with him is blessed with fair weather all his days. The hollow in the glass is the eye of the storm, the one place of calm amid the chaos.”

Jaskier poked a finger through the eye of the ring. “Fascinating doesn’t begin to cover it. Song worthy better hits the mark.” He passed Geralt the ring as he packed away the glass once more, but Geralt stopped him, closing his hand around the ring.

“I want you to keep it,” he said. “To protect you. Lightning will never strike near you so long as you wear it.”

Jaskier stared down at his fist, opening it slowly to reveal the cold glass ring within. “I thought you didn’t believe in stories like that,” he replied.

Geralt picked up the ring by its cord and lowered it round Jaskier’s neck. “Some stories—some superstitions—are facts forgotten by time. Whether or not it truly will guard you from storms, we’ll learn in time, but I can feel that there is magic in this.  There are charms in this world, if you know where to find them.”

Jaskier pressed the tips of his fingers to the ring, a small smile tugging his lips. It rested against his collar with a comforting weight. When he looked at Geralt, his eyes were bright and crinkled at the corners.

“Thank you, Geralt.”

He stood up, one hand on Geralt’s shoulder for balance. As he did, he leaned in and pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek in passing, then went to see about getting breakfast started.

Geralt knelt frozen on the spot.

Thunderstruck.

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T-Honey I Shrunk the Test Subject

Hiiii here is the stupid content no one asked for (title from @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi)

Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: possessive whumper, manhandling/noncon touching (unsexy), spider, a lil bit of choking

“This is my favorite thing I have done, ever.”

“Change me back right now, Neteri.”

“Mmmmm...maybe later.” He huffed angrily and crossed his arms, glaring up at her. When she’d said she wanted to test something on him today, figured it would be...he didn’t know, something normal? Not...not…this. He wished he could run away as she stared down at him, but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go.

He was stuck up here, standing on the palm of her hand as she looked at him through a magnifying glass.

She poked at his stomach with the tip of her finger, giggling as he stumbled back in order to stay on his feet. “Oh Erebus, you’re so cute all teeny like this. My hypothesis was correct after all!”

“And what was your hypothesis?”

“That you would be even cuter if I shrunk you! And I was so, so right,” she cooed, shifting so both of her hands were wrapped around him, bringing him up and rubbing him against her cheek. He squirmed desperately, but he was no match for her now.

“Put me down!”

“Okay!” She let go of him with one hand, still holding him firmly in the other, and grabbed something from under the table. She gently dropped him onto a soft surface...surrounded by curved glass walls. He looked up in disbelief. A jar. She’d put him in a jar.

“Neteri, this isn’t what-let me out of here!” he yelled, banging his fist against the glass uselessly. 

“Don’t worry bud, I’ll take you outside later. For now, I have some things to do, so just sit tight, okay?” He protested further, but she just ignored him and screwed on the lid. She’d poked holes in it, at least, but now he was even more trapped. He found it hard to stand as she started walking, so he angrily sat down on the thick layer of cotton and scraps of cloth that lined the bottom of the jar, watching helplessly as she carried him along.

She brought him into a room he’d never seen before, but he assumed it was her office. Bookshelves lined the walls, and papers were stacked in neat piles here and there. She gently set the jar down on her desk, gathering some materials before sitting down and getting to work. Erebus sighed, looking around more closely at his prison.

There really wasn’t much in there besides the layer of bedding, just a small stick and a coin. He laid back, sighing. This was worse than being stuck in his cell, since there he had things to do, and more importantly, privacy. Here, everything he did was very much on display for Neteri. Every now and then, she’d glance up at him and smile, or even just watch him for a little bit. Why did she even want him here if she wasn’t going to do anything to him? Wait, he...he was just her desk ornament, wasn’t he? A little pet for her to look at while she worked. Humiliated, he rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the soft material. There wasn’t any way to escape her gaze except for burying himself completely, but he was certain she’d just tease him for doing that.

A little while later, he heard her unscrewing the lid, and upon looking up, he saw her hand reaching in. He tried his best to get away, but there wasn’t really anywhere for him to run. She managed to pinch the back of his shirt between her fingers, and he struggled uselessly as she pulled him up and out of the jar. “You’re so wiggly,” she remarked, grabbing him in her other hand and letting go of his shirt.

“Yeah, because I don’t like you grabbing me and picking me up!”

“Oh come on, how can I resist?” She rubbed the side of his face with her thumb. “You’re so lil and cute and all mine; I just wanna hold you.” She moved her thumb, stroking his hair now. “Maybe I’ll just keep you like this forever. My own little Erebus.”

A look of horror crept across his face. “You wouldn’t-you can’t-”

She laughed. “No, I can’t. The spell only lasts for twenty-four hours.”

“Well that’s-wait I’m going to be stuck like this for a day?!”

Neteri smiled wickedly. “Yes you are. And you can bet I’m going to make the most of this. I’m almost done here, and then I’ll take you outside, ‘kay?”

“Are you going to let go of me while you-”

“Nope.” Erebus groaned, but tried to make himself as comfortable as possible in her hand, trying to ignore the way she was constantly petting him with her finger in one spot or another. Thankfully, she finished her work soon after and let go of him, placing him gently on her palm. “Alright, lil guy, do you want to ride in the jar or on my shoulder? Or,” she gasped, “I could put you in my pocket! Nevermind, I’m putting you in my pocket.”

“Hey, wait-” Erebus cried, but she paid him no heed, dumping him into the breast pocket of her coat. After some struggling, he managed to right himself, standing so his head and shoulders were sticking out. Neteri was looking down at him with the happiest smile he’d seen her wear since...ever, really.

“This is so amazing look at you in there you’re so small and aaahhhh!” She jumped up and down a few times, and Erebus had to hold tightly to the edge of her pocket to avoid being thrown out. 

“Cut it out, Neteri, you’re going to kill me!”

She looked down at him, realizing her mistake. “Oh no I’m so sorry little bud are you okay?!”

“I mean for a lot of reasons, no, but physically I’m...not in pain.”

“Great! Let’s get going, then.” She slung her bag over her shoulder, and off they went. It was strange, seeing the world from this height. He felt so small-well, of course he was small, but-just...height wise? Regular person size height wise? He felt like he was a kid again, only being this high off the ground. This was sort of how Neteri saw things, wasn’t it? He was a little lower than that, but still, the tops of doorways were so far, not even close to his head at all. 

Musings aside, he was relieved when they made it to one of the many palace gardens they visited every so often. He begrudgingly climbed onto Neteri’s hand, glad to get out of her pocket, at least. She petted his head a few times, muttering “Tiny Erebus,” to herself, before lowering him enough that he could step onto the ground. They were right next to one of the plant beds, and Erebus couldn’t help but look up in awe. The plants were so tall, their leaves big enough for him to easily hide under.

“You can go wandering in there if you want, but don’t go too far or...well, you’ll see,” Neteri said. Erebus was tempted to ask what exactly she meant by that, but he refrained, simply nodding and heading off into the veritable jungle. Soon enough, he lost himself in the strange little world among the plants, fascinated by the way they looked from this angle. He didn’t know how long he spent just wandering around, studying the huge flowers, stems, and leaves. For a moment, he almost didn’t mind being small. But just for a moment.

Because then he saw something moving.

Erebus was frozen in horror as he watched the long, shiny legs scuttling towards him. He’d never really been afraid of spiders, but they usually weren’t so big, certainly not almost up to his knees. He finally managed to get his legs to move, breaking into a run. He didn’t really think it would hurt him, but he didn’t want to take his chances and that thing was still freaky. He tried to gauge where he was, but it was impossible to tell. He could hardly see the sky through all these tall stems and leaves, much less Neteri. And no way was he calling for her. If she knew he was being chased by a spider, she’d never let him live it down.

Erebus just kept going, hoping he could lose it, when something suddenly jerked on his neck, temporarily choking him and knocking him onto his back. He frantically felt his neck as he coughed, feeling for whatever had pulled him, but there was nothing besides his stupid collar, which hadn’t caught on anything, as far as he could tell. He scurried to his feet and tried to keep going, but again his neck was pulled back. He waved his hand around, and there wasn’t anything there, but it felt like he was being tugged back by...a leash. Oh. This is what Neteri meant by him not being able to go too far away. 

Thankfully, he seemed to have lost the spider, so he turned around and headed in the direction the leash had pulled him earlier. It did end up leading him back to Neteri, who looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Did you try to run, Erebus?” She tapped a ring on her finger that he hadn’t noticed before, a tinge of harshness in her eyes. 

“I-no, I was just...running...from something.” He’d...he’d rather take teasing over punishment.

Her gaze softened instantly, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “Wait did you get chased by a bug or something that’s so cute!” She grabbed him before he could dodge, bringing him up and rubbing him against her cheek again. “You poor sweet little thing I’ll always protect you from those big scary bugs.”

Erebus then remembered that teasing was basically punishment. 

He couldn’t wait for this damn spell to wear off.

Next→

Random bits tag: @yet-another-heathen @as-a-matter-of-whump @galaxywhump

[alderaani]

Embers

summary: After Umbara, Boil learns how to endure, and how to reclaim pieces of his brothers marching on | AO3 | series

warnings: canonical character death, grief, animal injury + mentions of animal death (completely not explicit, on the level of canon-typical violence).

a/n: finally another part of my 100 clone prompts - the rest of the series is linked above! i know there’s not much in canon to support Waxer being an animal lover, but i wanted to give Gree a friend to nerd out with and it’s cute. also gotta pay homage to @nibeul’s wonderful art here - while I wasn’t consciously inspired by it, it hits on v similar themes and is just beautiful like...that image of waxer holding up numa lives in my head rent free.

-

Insects swirled in a halo around his helmet. They swarmed around the seams of his blacks, too, attracted to the small beads of sweat there, to the tiny strips of flesh he couldn’t quite cover. The rising bites itched, rubbing where the edge of his vambraces met fabric, and the buzzing was enough to drive a man mad. Boil sighed, brushing them off half-heartedly and watching them billow angrily away. They’d be back. They always were.

In the reprieve, he fumbled at his belt for the viewfinders hooked there and brought them to his visor. As he spun the dial to within half a klik so that he could search the undergrowth, his thumb settled in the comforting groove where Waxer had dropped them and chipped the plastoid. He worried at it with his nail while he scanned, frowning.

It was too still.

Too quiet.

Had been in his head for weeks now, verging on a month, and he was still waiting to feel something other than crippling emptiness. There weren’t any dreams any more, none except for the oldest one they all pretended not to have; levelling a blaster against Kenobi’s head and pulling the trigger. Even that didn’t feel like the nightmare it used to.

Eventually he lowered the viewfinder, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the stifled sound of his own breath in the dense air. A faint, humid breeze stirred the leaves, sending a cloud of thick yellow pollen up towards the canopy. Boil blinked to bring up the filter diagnostic on his HUD, keeping his belly low to the ground to avoid the stuff as it drifted lazily overhead.

“Kid, you doin’ alright out there?”

He listened to the static hum of the comm line for a few moments, biting back the panic that crawled up the back of his throat when it dragged on just a beat too long.

“Apart from gettin’ gnawed on by the bugs? Just grand, Sir.”

Potshot sounded a little winded, but that was probably just the heat. Blacks self-regulated temperature, but only to the extent that they made sure you sweated evenly. It never used to be quite so bad; that had been the one thing Phase 1 armour had going for it, for all it was bulkier and less adaptable to varied terrain. He supposed the Republic had had to cut costs somewhere. Waxer would’ve been whining by now that his ass was so hot they could light a flare off it. Potshot was young enough that he’d never known any different.

“Good, you see anything?” Boil grunted, pinging his location anyway. There was no real reason for it; Potshot might’ve still been green but he wasn’t stupid, and he’d done well to keep up so far. Boil could stand being self aware enough to acknowledge that he hadn’t been the most welcoming, or the most patient with the new partner he’d never wanted. He wouldn’t have had any right to be overbearing now, but it was for his own comfort, however small and bittersweet.

“Nothin’ at all. That seem odd to you too?” Potshot said, as the surveillance holos he’d taken popped up. Boil flipped through them, earmarking a couple to show him how to improve the angle later. The important shit was all there - enough to confirm what he’d already suspected. No birds, no creatures, no fresh droppings.

Just the bugs, and the trees, and them.

“Yeah, it’s odd alright. Think we’ve found what the general’s looking for.”

Boil felt pressure around his right boot and turned, vibroblade in hand, to stab into the fleshy vine knotting round it. It writhed and retreated, leaving behind pitted, smoking trails where acid had started eating into the plastoid. He registered the damage with a dull sort of annoyance. It was something else to take care of later, a way to look busy and shape the silence. It would fend off the others and their offers of company, made out of pity he couldn’t bear to look at.

“Really? What’re you seein’, boss?” Potshot asked.

Boil glanced upwards to track the position of the sun; high, almost directly overhead. At the peak of the day this place should have been teeming. Instead the only tracks he’d found had been baked solid, and this wasn’t the shocked quiet that followed a stampede. It was stagnant, aging.

“This forest is in the centre of an old super-volcanic crater, right?” he asked, not waiting for a response. It had been in the mission dossier, alongside profiles of the flesh eating plants, the deadly pollen and the venomous creatures, all of it fenced into the sloped, unforgiving bowl of the terrain. It was the kind of forest that stuck in the mind. “And we know that something has driven the wildlife away.”

Potshot hummed, the comm muffling for a second as he shifted. It took a moment of bitter disappointment coiling in Boil’s belly for him to realise that he’d been waiting for a sharp quip that wasn’t coming. He swallowed thickly, wondering how it was possible to feel so wrongfooted while lying down. If he’d ever find his balance again. If he ever wanted to feel whole now that such a fundamental piece was missing.

Potshot groaned suddenly. “Kriff it, the factories we’re looking for are underground, aren’t they?”

Boil forced a chuckle, choking past the self hatred clawing up through his lungs. The kid deserved better, deserved a superior who didn’t constantly treat him like a ghost.

“That’s it, kid. Just like the simulations, eh?”

Potshot laughed, the easy sound making Boil’s throat seize in longing so strong his teeth ached. Waxer would’ve loved him, and that made it all the worse.

“Hardly. What do we do next?”

“Alright,” Boil said, lifting the viewfinder for one last look at where he could see slight fog rising through the trees. “You get your ass back to forward command and debrief the General, I’m heading in for a closer look.”

“ What? But - Sir! We’re supposed to be working as a team. I can’t leave you -”

“Sometimes working as a team means you do your duty and trust the others to do theirs.” He cut in, keeping his voice steady by force of will. Sometimes, it meant carrying on alone. Boil clipped the viewfinder back into place and prepared to move, even as Potshot continued protesting. Boil didn’t answer for long enough that silence fell on the line.

“...am I not performing to the standard expected, Sir?”

Potshot’s voice was soft, all vulnerable underbelly. Still so shiny, and Boil remembered feeling like that, like there was still a scorecard constantly on his forehead.

“No - kid -” Boil sighed, dropping his head forward. He’d never learned how to be gentle - it hadn’t ever come naturally, and there had been no reason to lose his sharp edges when Waxer had always been there to foil them for him. He felt sharper now than ever, full of shards that didn’t sit right, and fished among the pieces for something his brother might have said. “I trust you to have my back. You’re doing everything right. But...sometimes we’ve gotta think of the mission. We need more proof before we can move in, but the two of us get caught, command loses what we already know.”

“Can’t we just send a comm?” Potshot asked, his voice still tight and hurt sounding and he was fucking this up, shouldn’t have been trusted to try to fix himself without breaking everyone else wide open in the process.

“Don’t trust it not to get intercepted,” Boil said, which was only half a lie, and would have made Cody scoff at the back to front over-caution. “And it don’t all fit in a comm. They’ll need everything you can remember to plan the advance.”

Potshot sighed, but when he spoke again his voice was looser. “...Yes, Sir. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Boil said, feeling his own chest lighten. “If you don’t hear from me by 1100 then raise me on the priority channel.”

He listened until Potshot had stated a reluctant affirmative and clicked off the line, then bellied out of the undergrowth and headed further in, to the epicentre of the unnatural quiet. He liked the way his mind went silent on recon, how everything else fell away. It wasn’t quite the same, tilted just a little off axis, but similar enough to when it had been Waxer at his six that if he didn’t think about it, he could almost trick himself into believing nothing had changed.

Plus, the space was good, just for a few minutes, where he didn't have to pretend for anyone.

It was a quiet journey, for the most part, punctuated only by the steps he couldn’t quite muffle. His thoughts were broken some time later when he suddenly heard it; the distant mechanical boom of something deep underground. He quickened his pace, following the vibrations until the earth under his feet grew hot, the air shimmering unnaturally in front of him. It had been like this at Point Rain, when the sand baked and glinted, glass-like, under the blaze of the overhead sun. If he hadn’t known the super-volcano was very thoroughly extinct, he could have kidded himself that it was just the geothermal energy of magma moving close to the surface. A clever disguise. But not clever enough.

The ground sloped ever downwards the further into the bowl he got. He watched where he placed his feet as it grew rockier, stones and small craters acting like pitfall traps concealed by the moss. Boil pinged his scanner every minute, searching for Seppie probes as the terrain tapered, falling away into a green-rimmed yawning abyss. Set into the centre of it was a huge grate, the source of the searing air. Here were the factories they’d been looking for, exactly where he’d suspected. It was a muted sort of satisfaction.

He crouched at the edge of the drop, taking holos and transmitting them directly to the Commander’s HUD. Then he checked his chrono and sent an unapologetic follow up that he’d be late to rendezvous, seeing that 1100 was about to come and go. Then he minimised the comms on his HUD to flash for priority only; he’d get bollocked for being late sooner or later, but he figured it would be novel to have it fully in person.

Finally he turned, ready to start the rapid scale back towards the 212th's forward camp, when he registered a low, keening whine.

His blaster was in his hands within a moment, trained at the knee-high leaves. The sound came again, higher this time, followed by laboured panting.

He gently brushed aside some of the foliage with his blaster barrel. Dark eyes stared at him from between the leaves. They both froze. It was some sort of animal, obviously; a mammal, probably a predator. It was small too, with paws too large for its scrawny body and a dark, downy fur that rippled with every laboured breath.

Sharp teeth. A narrow muzzle. A long, whip-like tail.

A vornskr, Boil thought, and hated how readily the identification came, how readily he tensed in anticipation of the inevitable Boil can you see - do you know how rare -

He shook the memories away, of Waxer leaning precariously over the top bunk to wave some manual Commander Gree had sent him in his face, bleating about some animal or species that Boil couldn’t pronounce. In the present the vornskr pup cowered away from him, pushing backwards on thin, spindly legs. Deceptively powerful though, he’d bet.

The creature let out another whine and stumbled, an odd abortive movement. Boil pressed more of the leaves away to get a better look and swore when he saw the brutal metal trap closed around one of its small hind legs, paring down to bone. His blaster was up and trained on the thing before he thought much about it. Better to shoot it, put it out of its misery, than prolong its suffering. It was what they did as part of the cleanup sometimes; wildlife was usually pretty good at getting out of the active battlefronts, but there were always stragglers. The too old or the too young, mostly.

Creatures like this one.

The vornskr stilled, staring at him with those big, wide eyes as if it knew exactly what he was thinking. Boil swallowed. Waxer wouldn’t have let him shoot it. Waxer also wasn’t here now to stop him, but Boil felt his arm lower all the same, just a few inches before he pulled the trigger. The vornskr yelped as the trap hinges came apart in two neat halves and immediately tried to run. It didn’t get very far before it collapsed, panting again.

Boil sighed and shook his head, holstering his blaster across his back.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” he tsked, shuffling closer.

He kept half an eye on the tail, remembering something about it being venomous. While being high off his ass on some unknown substance had the potential to make Cody’s dressing down more interesting, it might also kill him before he got there.

The vornskr growled as he leaned over it, baring needle sharp teeth, and made a snap at him when Boil reached out.

“Ah, give over,” he muttered, batting the attempt away. The little body was light in his hands as he lifted it, careful to let the injured leg hang out as he folded it into his chest. The vornskr made an odd, throaty sound and shifted, almost experimental. Then it huffed, and after a pause laid its head across his vambrace.

Boil rolled his eyes at the display, setting off towards forward command as soon as he was halfway sure he wasn’t in danger of losing a finger.

It was...nice, to have that little body cradled to him, reminiscent of better occasions when Waxer just had to stick his nose into every curious happening and inevitably adopted some struggling lifeform. However much Boil had complained, it had never steered them wrong.

When he got back to command it was to find Cody pacing the perimeter, Potshot perched on a crate nearby. The Commander’s bucket was under his arm. Boil winced. With Cody that was never an accident - usually so he could get the full weight of a glare in, the excavating kind he’d learned from Kenobi and then weaponised so that it pierced straight down to bone.

“Boss!” Potshot exclaimed, pushing off his seat. “You made it!”

“What time d’you call this?” Cody demanded, stalking over. “I was about to -”

Cody stopped short, gaze dropping to the furry bundle against Boil’s breastplate. Something in his expression softened and Boil felt in his heart, panicking as a lump rose in his throat.

“What’s that?” Cody asked.

Boil let his gaze slide downwards to a point far beyond, where two troopers were fighting over a tarp.

“Found it in a trap,” he said, his voice ragged. “Couldn’t - couldn’t let it die.”

He flicked his eyes back to Cody’s face and breathed through the grief and understanding he found there. Cody stepped forward and clasped Boil’s elbow.

“I’m sure Tranq will be able to do something for it.” A little upturn crept into the line of Cody’s lips. “Debrief in fifteen.”

Boil nodded and broke away, tipping his head to Potshot before clearing his throat roughly and popping his bucket off one-handed as he made his way to the medtent. The sun was warm on his face here, the air lighter. A butterfly flew lazily past and the vornskr lifted its head, tracking the motion with large, interested eyes.

Boil smiled, hoisting his bucket under one arm and daring to touch the creature's head with his freed hand. It wouldn’t ever bring Waxer back, but it meant something that this little life continued, because of the choices his brother would have made and all that he had been. Like the phantom touch of the sun still lingering in cooling earth.

It wouldn’t ever be enough. But, perhaps, it was just the right amount to cling onto.

-

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[someonestolemyshoes]

Toys Shouldn’t Move

This is a repost of an old.....frankly chaotic fic I wrote a few years ago, but as I was asked to repost some of my old Ackerbabies fics, I figured this one can see the light of day again. Whether I think it should be in the public eye again is. Debatable. 

Anyway, this is technically part of my Our House collection and I’ll archive it in there as well, but I figured since it’s, um, Different. It can have a place of it’s own too!! 

Warning: Non-graphic depictions of sex between inanimate(?) objects. 

They’re getting ready for bed when Levi brings it up, and he only thinks to mention it because Hange is wearing a slip of a nightie, the cool, thin silk see-through at the breast, riding high over her thighs. On any normal day he wouldn’t hesitate, but today he feels dirty. He freezes when her finger grazes over the skin of his chest, body rigid, and at Hange’s questioning gaze he says, “the Cookie Monster fucked Elmo.”

It all started with that fucking Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster toy.

Levi wasn’t fond of them, those fuzz-coated, boggle-eyed, shit-your-pants scary robots marketed to brats as young as his own and he can’t see the attraction, doesn’t understand the way Samson claps his hands and spits his laughs, all wide-eyed and full of joy as the fluffy little demon chuckles it’s weird, demonic laughter and rocks in time to the wriggle of Samson’s grubby, tickling fingers.

“Toys shouldn’t move,” he says one day, arms crossed and brow furrowed as Hange takes to the floor and sets the doll in motion. She rolls her eyes, and puffs a lock of hair from her face.

“Say hello to the twenty-first century, short stuff,” she says as Samson dives for the Cookie Monster with a kind of undignified gusto Levi rarely sees in him. Hange stretches to her feet, bends to press a kiss to Levi’s pouted mouth and scoops Leelu out of her chair.

“If this is the twenty-first century, I want out.”

Leelu stretches tiny, sticky fingers and grabs at the air in his direction. Levi lifts her out of Hange’s grip, and settles her on his hip, smudging a streak of chocolate from her cheek with his thumb. She points down at Samson, points at the god-forsaken toy and says, loud and clear and bossy as ever, “want one.”

Hange barks out a laugh, rests her hands on her hips and tips her chin up and guffaws, entirely at Levi’s expense, like there is anything remotely funny about the idea of having not one, but twoTickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster’s shrieking their laughter all day, every day, for the foreseeable future. Levi chucks Leelu’s cheek and scowls.

“Little traitor.”  

**

In the end, they compromise.

On the plus side, no more Cookie Monster robots, and upon hearing those words Levi is about as happy as he can be with Leelu sucking the ends of his cravat between her tiny little teeth.

Instead, though, Leelu will receive her very own Elmo Live – in short, another hairy, beastly little android.

Hange unpacks the box while Leelu watches, eyes wide behind little, round-lens glasses, while Samson pulls tiny tufts of fur from his Cookie Monster and pretends he isn’t looking, too. Levi sips a cup of strong tea, resigned to this fate.

The minute the batteries are in and the switch is flicked on, Elmo rockets to life, voice high and nasal. He throws his head back and laughs, mouth gaping, eyes bulging, and Levi stares over the rim of his tea cup in horror as Leelu beats her palms together, and giggles along with the monstrous toy. Hange is smiling, wide and victorious and yes, a little malicious, too. She casts her eyes to the side, to Levi.

“I hate it,” Levi says, stiffly, blinking at the manic red bot. “I hate it so much.”

And then the Cookie Monster is off alongside it, bending at the waist and gyrating, busting out it’s awful laughter as Samson shrieks, nudges it to set it away again. Elmo is chatting with his mouth spread as wide as it goes, an empty, black pit yawning inside and oh my god, oh my god.

Levi thinks, as Hange steps behind him to rest her chin atop his head and the diabolical sniggering continues, that things absolutely, 100% cannot possibly get any worse.

**

Levi thought wrong.

It’s when he’s packing the day away that he realises his misjudgment. He crosses the room, scooping toy cars and Barbie dolls and Lego pieces from the floor and throwing them into the toy box, and on his final leg of the room, there they are.

They stand side by side, Elmo and the Cookie Monster, bulbous white eyes watching his approach. His hands are tentative as he reaches for them, half expecting the evil little bastards to spring to life in his palms, wriggling and chuckling, but they remain still even as he closes his fingers around their fat, hairy middles.

They remain silent as he carries them across the room, don’t utter a sound as he traps Elmo beneath an arm to make some room in the toy box, stay quiet as he drops them into place.

It’s only when he steps back, and turns to survey the room one more time that it happens.

The Cookie Monster starts it. His infernal laughter rips through the room making Levi jump, twisting and staring in absolute horror as the tiny beast’s body rests where he’d placed it, curled against the back of Elmo, chortling and grumbling phrases Levi can’t even understand and this is bad enough, this is the worst, most terrible thing he has ever witnessed in his whole life, bar none.

And then Elmo joins in.

Elmo shrieks, throws his mouth open and howls and the sounds are terrible enough, but there is one thing that is even worse.

Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster has one feature that interests and amazes kids, that has Samson’s eyes bugging out of his skull whenever he turns the damn thing on, and it isn’t his laughter, it isn’t his jolly little phrases, and it isn’t his touch-of-a-hand reactions.

It’s that he moves.

TMX Cookie Monster bends at the waist in jerky little movements; three down, and three back up, lather, rinse, repeat. It’s horrifying enough, watching the fuzzy blue devil do this alone, but right now his fat little body is curling and uncurling itself pressed right up against Elmo’s back.

And Elmo is still screeching, still belting out his laughter, head knocked back and mouth agape and Jesus Christ—  

“They’re fucking,” Levi says to no one, staring at the toys where they sit in the box.

He is hasty to find the off-switch, and he drops them back in the box, shocked and speechless, before shaking his head and abandoning the room.

They’re getting ready for bed when Levi brings it up, and he only thinks to mention it because Hange is wearing a slip of a nightie, the cool, thin silk see-through at the breast, riding high over her thighs. On any normal day he wouldn’t hesitate, but today he feels dirty. He freezes when her finger grazes over the skin of his chest, body rigid, and at Hange’s questioning gaze he says, “the Cookie Monster fucked Elmo.”

Hange frowns, pulls back and settles herself against the mattress, one leg folded neatly over the other.

“If you don’t want to have sex tonight you can just tell me,” she says, a note of humour in her tone. Levi shakes his head, shucks his jeans off and scrubs his hands through his hair.

“The toys,” he says almost desperately, and at Hange’s raised brow, he elaborates. “I was packing them away and they weren’t switched off, and the way they were lying…it looked like they were boning.”

“That’s,” Hange begins, blinking owlishly, “that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Levi doubts this, knowing the kinds of things Hange reads and watches to keep herself entertained through the day, but he doesn’t argue.

“Can we just go to bed,” he says instead, and Hange nods, shaking her head and chuckling low under her breath.

Sleep is difficult, dreams wrought with red and blue and high, squawking laughter.

**

It happens again the next night, but by the time he drags Hange out of bed and down to the living room they have stopped and they sit, silent and mocking in the toy box, unseeing eyes staring into the room.

The worst part is, it never happens to Hange. Night after night she clears away, slips every used and abused toy into the box, and night after night Elmo and the Cookie Monster remain still, and silent.

Years go by; Samson and Leelu age and outgrow the toys they once loved. and Elmo and the Cookie Monster are no exception. Leelu is five when the robots are packed in cardboard and hauled up into the attic, and Levi sets the box to rest with a smile. He’s never been happier to see the back of any inanimate object in all his young life.

New toys come and go, some horrifying, some begrudgingly kind of cool, and as the kids shift from childhood to their teen years the phones come along. Cheap, at first, with thick, fat buttons and black and white screens and Snake, and as the kids grow older the phones become more complex.

They flip, they slide, they twist, they have the entire alphabet squeezed onto individual keys and then they have no keys at all, the epitome of modern technology.

Samson is sixteen, tapping away at the screen of a phone too complicated for Levi to even comprehend, when Hange suggests they clean out the attic for more storage space.

It’s a good idea, Levi thinks – though it’ll create messes he has to clean up – as he re-positions the ladder beneath the hatch for the third time. He holds it still as Samson and Leelu clamber up, and it’s only when Samson yells, “whoa, some of these are from like, ten years ago!” that Levi remembers what demons they’ve buried in boxes beneath the roof of their house.

“I’m making tea,” he says, and Hange nods.

“I’ll grab a coffee before we get started.” She angles her head up the opening and yells, “be careful up there, guys,” before smiling, pecking a kiss to Levi’s cheek, and leading him downstairs.

**

“Man, Lu-Lu, you had terrible taste in clothes as a kid, too.”

Samson dodges the smack Leelu sends his way and crumples the voluminous snot-green dress back into the box

“I, on the other hand,” he begins, brandishing an item from his own box, but his face falls into a grimace at the sight of the bright orange tee and he folds it away with a quiet, “sure glad Mum and Dad don’t dress me now.

“Hey, shit-for-brains,” Leelu says. Samson looks over. “This is all our old toys.”

“Oh, sweet! I bet mine were all better than yours, too.”

Leelu kicks at his thigh as Samson crawls the space between then and he scowls, rubs the battered limb and settles beside the box.

“Hey, look!” He laughs, pointing inside, “the Cookie Monster!”

“He’s squashing my Elmo.”

“Well, yeah,” Samson says, “Cookie Monster comes out on top every time, sis. Everyone knows CM trumps Elmo any day. God, I even picked better toys than you. Nothing’s changed, huh.”

“You know, Samson,” Leelu says, cracking her fingers one at a time. “I’d hate to ruin a perfectly good day by shoving your egocentric fucking face through the attic floor, but I’m not above doing it.”

Samson splays his hands and nods his head in surrender, and then he blinks wide, glinting eyes and reaches for the box.

“Wonder if they still work.”

It takes one touch to set the Cookie Monster flailing.

Samson prods him with a finger and Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster thrashes in the box, his rhythmic bending and unfurling awakening Elmo, too. The pair of them screech and holler, decades old laughter ricocheting off the attic walls, and Samson barks, pointing a long finger and grinning from ear to ear.

“Randy little bastards,” he hoots, fishing his phone out of his back pocket and opening the camera.

Leelu stares, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“What the fuck,” she breathes, gazing in abject horror as her childhood crumbles before her eyes. Samson can barely hold the camera steady, shoulders shaking, tears leaking down his cheeks as the Cookie Monster—

“He’s railing him,” Samson cries, voice high and strained as he fights to get the words passed his laughter. He angles the phone to catch Leelu in the lens, body hunched and eyes bulging, as she stares in terror at their childhood playthings.

“This is the most sordid thing I’ve ever seen,” Samson wheezes.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Leelu says, quiet, monotonous, and horrified.

It takes a little longer before she thinks to switch them off, and when the idea finally springs to mind she hesitates to reach into the box. It feels dirty, touching them, and Samson wipes the tears from his face when the noise finally comes to a stop.

“I gotta show Mum,” Samson says, coughing out a few additional, choking laughs. Leelu follows him down the ladder in a daze.

**

“Mum, you’ve got to see this.”

Samson rockets into the kitchen, eyes alive, arm outstretched with his phone clutched in his hand. Levi sips his tea and raises a brow, gaze falling on Leelu as she drags her feet over the threshold and slumps into a chair. There’s something about the look in her eyes, a violated kind of shock that Levi has only seen once before, on himself, all those years ago, way back when…

Oh, no.

“Hey, Levi!” Hange laughs, setting her mug on the table. She peels Samson’s phone from his hand and turns it, tapping the screen. “Look what the kids found.”

There on the screen it plays, Elmo Live and Tickle Me Extreme Cookie Monster in all their sleazy glory. Levi jabs a finger first at the horror unfolding on the screen, and then at Hange

“I fucking told you,” he says, sitting a little higher in his chair to take one long, dignified slurp of his tea.

“My Elmo,” Leelu says. She looks at Levi a little imploringly. He shrugs a shoulder.

“It’s a long-standing affair,” he says. Samson claps him on the shoulder while Leelu buries her face in her hands.

“Taking it right in the childhood there, Lu-Lu,” Samson says, “just like Elmo’s taking it right in the—”

“Fuck the fuck off.”

“You didn’t believe me,” Levi says, listening idly as Samson and Leelu argue beside him. Hange replays the video and stares, laughter bubbling up in her eyes. Levi folds his arms, sniffing haughtily. “I told you those things were disgusting. Can we throw them away now?”

“No!” Samson wails, voice a little choked where his neck is hooked under Leelu’s arm. “You can’t punish them for love, Dad. I thought you were better than that.”

“Oh my god.”

“He’s right,” Hange says, grinning impishly, “I didn’t think you were the discriminating type.”

Levi scowls, then purses his lips.

“Can we just throw the damn things out?”

“I’ve lost all respect for you, Pops,” Samson says, and he tries to sigh, but his breath is gurgled when Leelu squeezes his neck a little tighter.

“Throw them out,” she says, “get rid of them.”

Levi kicks his way out of the chair, legs scraping over the kitchen tiles as Samson yells, strangled and desperate, “Injustice!”

Hange replays the video for a third time, tilts the screen first one way, then the other.

“It’s pretty impressive,” she says, “that they’re still working after all these years. And Elmo is way more flexible than I thought.”

Leelu tightens her headlock on Samson, choking off a snide, spit-heavy comment about stamina, and Levi drops back into his chair, tilting his head against the back rest to stare, resigned, at the ceiling. He listens to his children argue, to Leelu’s threats and Samson’s jeers, to Hange’s laughter and her half-hearted reprimands.

And to the monstrous, ungodly audio of toys fucking in his attic.

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“All The Echoes In My Mind Cry, There’s Blood On Your Lies” - Cordelia Goode x Reader x Wilhemina Venable

Prompt: 11 - Angst Prompt List - “Don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay” + 12 - Angst Prompt List - “Who did this? Who hurt you?”

Words: ~12,000

Warnings: Sexual assault and a LOT of overthinking. Listen, I took this angst prompt seriously. You’ve been warned. 

Requested by: @darling-dontforgetme​

You thumbed through your notifications, rolling your eyes. 

It was just one picture. One tiny picture with one tiny caption, and it honestly shouldn’t have blown up the way it did. 

Since you had checked your phone about six minutes ago, there were twenty-five new comments. Of those twenty-five, two of them were positive. One from a childhood friend, congratulating you on being so happy, and one from Madison, Madison of all people, saying a short “congrats or whatever” and commenting on Cordelia’s shirt not matching her pants.

The rest were all relatively the same, some version of “ew” or “disgusting” or “blocked.” 

Your phone vibrated and you swiped to your messages. And you rolled your eyes again because Madison was being as impatient as always.

This place blows, where are you?

Almost there, two blocks away. 

I’m going to kill Foxxy for making you walk me home. 

Want to meet me out front?

No, let me at least finish my fucking drink.

And as another comment on your picture dinged, she texted you again. 

Bouncer was easy, you should be able to walk right by him the way he caved under my spell

You typed back a quick okay and flicked back to the comments on your picture. This one was from your cousin. 

Who’s the redhead with her tongue down your throat? Why have I never met her? ;)

You rolled your eyes, dread running through you because you knew he meant it in the absolute wrong way. But just as you were about to respond with something that was probably too possessive, someone rammed into you from behind.

You had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Not the best option on a Saturday night in New Orleans. You gave a soft apology and the man grumbled as he shuffled past you and into the crowd just ahead. 

And then you pocketed your phone, comment abandoned as you zeroed in on the club across the street and made your way over. 

Madison was right, the bouncer was easy. The crowds lined up and waiting to get in were not. There were too many people to push through just to get inside, and you were breathless by the time you reached the entrance. 

Lord, you hated this city sometimes. 

You slid past the bouncer without a second glance, shouldering the door open and wincing at the loud bass that thrummed through your skin. 

It was a huge club, and honestly you didn’t know how it fit into this cramped little city. But here it was, filled to the brim with glitter and cocktails and pulsing bodies. The beat pounded at the back of your neck and you could already feel a headache coming on, so you flicked your messages opened and started making your way to what could only be the VIP lounge. 

And of course, it was all the way across the dance floor. 

Shit. 

You did your best to push through the crowd of bodies, sticking to the outskirts of the dance mob and trying to keep your eyes pinned on the steps leading up to the roped off section of the club. But no sooner had you made it past the bar, caught a glimpse of Madison and texted her to tell her that you were there, then a hand wrapped around your arm and hauled you to your right. 

You tripped over yourself, dropping your phone, and by the time you caught your footing you were halfway down a dark hallway, a red light illuminating couples writhing against each other on the walls. 

“What the—“ you tried, ripping at the hand on your arm and yanking away. But you had barely gotten your hand around the fingers bruising into your skin when you heard a rough, “Calm down, it’s just me.” 

And everything inside of you shot ice cold. 

You looked up, terror freezing your attempts to get away. 

“J-James?” you stuttered out as he spun you and slammed you up against a free space on the wall. 

And he was over you in a second, mouth hot in your ear. 

“James, get off of me,” you tried weakly, pushing at him. Shoving at him. But he was so heavy. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” he growled, and his breath was hot and sticky and smelled of tar. 

“Let me go,” you tried again as you scratched at his shoulders. “Let me go.” 

His hand found your arm again and he slammed you back against the wall, hard enough that your head snapped back and the crack rang through your skull. 

“S-Stop,” you said as forcefully as you could, stars blurring your vision. “Stop it James, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I know you missed me, honey,” he whispered in your ear, and you could feel his sickening smirk against your skin. “Come on. Let me make you feel good. Like I used to. What are the odds that we both show up here on the same night?” 

You screamed, shoving at his shoulders harder and harder until your breaths pulled uneven and ragged. “Get off.”

“You know you want this.” And now his voice was snaking into your ears, hot and low and venomous. But you had lost track of his head, of his mouth. It was dark and the lights were flashing and your head was still spinning from the impact on the wall. 

You felt his mouth ghost over your neck and you growled, kicking at his shins. 

“Get off of me, James. I’m not yours anymore. I don’t belong to you. I don’t want this.” 

And then the tears came, flooding what was left of your broken vision as your voice cracked and his hands slid up your waist. 

“Oh, I know,” he murmured, and his mouth was back by your ear. “I saw your little post. Got yourself two girlfriends, hm? Maybe you should call them? Ask if they want to join us. The tall one seems a little stiff, but I’m sure I could loosen her up.” 

There it was. The last straw. And as he slammed his mouth against yours, hot and wet and bitter, you shoved as hard as you could, pushing him off of you and smacking him straight across the face.

“Enough!” you screamed. 

His hand came down across your cheek before you could blink, and you hadn’t realized he was holding a drink until he hit you square in the stomach, made you fly back against the wall, and his hand came down across your face again, glass breaking as his drink collided with you skull. 

You crumpled, a shriek ripped from you, and cowered against the wall.

Small. Shaking. And helpless. 

There were at least twenty people down this hallway, and none of them were doing anything. None of them heard you screaming for help. None of them cared. 

You were trapped.

James’s foot came up, and you barely had time to register it slamming into your side before the breath was knocked out of you again. 

“S-Stop,” you tried, and you sounded pitiful but at this point, you would beg. You would plead. You would do anything to get him away from you. 

He crouched down to your level, face inches from yours. You blinked against tears and something hot dripping onto your nose. 

And you gasped when his hand yanked your knees apart and slid straight between your thighs. 

“This is mine,” he growled, squeezing too hard. You cried out. “And I don’t care how many women you sleep with, it will always be mine. Do you understand?”

You choked on a gasp and then his other hand was on your throat, squeezing so tightly that your vision started going black around the edges. 

Instinct kicked in and you reached out blindly, hand fumbling on the ground for something, anything.

A sharp sting and you wrapped your fingers around the object, grabbed a shard from his broken glass. But before you could slam it into his skin there was a sickening choking sound and the grip on your throat loosened just enough for you to blink your vision back. 

James was gagging in front of you, eyes bugging out of his head as his tongue curled back and back and back again. 

His hands dropped from you to claw at his throat and his face reddened. 

“What are you doing to me, you stupid bitch?” he choked out, and you pushed yourself farther against the stone wall, eyes wide as his eyes rolled back and he collapsed onto the ground. 

And you almost reached out to him. Almost lost all sense and went to check that he was okay. But then Madison crouched down in front of you, eyes scouring every inch of you. 

“Are you okay?” she started, pushing hair off of your forehead as she checked you over. Her hand was red when she pulled it away. “What did he do to you?”

You couldn’t find your voice, raspy whimpers the best you could manage as you shook against the adrenaline coursing through you. 

She nodded like she understood you and grabbed your hands.

“Come on, let’s get you home. It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

As she pulled you out of the hallway and around the corner, pressing your phone into your hand, you glanced back behind you against your better judgement. And there he was, coughing and sputtering and lifting himself off the ground. 

A piece of you broke at the fact that Madison hadn’t choked the life out of him. That he hadn’t gotten what he deserved. What you should have done, if you had remembered anything you had learned. 

If you were any kind of witch at all.

~~~ 

You pushed your pleas at Madison as she helped you up the steps to the academy and she rolled her eyes, hands tightening as you winced and wobbled. 

“I get it. Sneak you up to your room. Extra quiet. Don’t let Cordelia know.”

“And don’t tell Venable,” you finished, breathless by the time you hit the landing. “I don’t even want to think about what she would do if she found out.”

Madison paused by the door, eyes narrowing. “You’re going to have to tell them eventually,” she said softly, licking her thumb and swiping at your forehead. You had felt the scab bust when you were about a block from the house, but a tingling followed Madison’s thumb and you knew she had sealed it shut again. 

“I know,” you panted softly. “But just not now. Not tonight. I can’t…”

You lost your breath, the events of the night flooding back into your mind. You shook your head, trying to find words, trying to explain, trying to ask Madison to promise you that she would let you tell them in your own time. 

But before anything came out Madison nodded, wrapping her arm around your waist.

“Deep breath,” she mumbled, and then she pushed the door open. 

You had barely crossed the threshold when her arm fell from your waist and you wobbled. She muttered a soft “shit”, and when you looked up your heart dropped into your stomach. 

Cordelia and Wilhemina were standing at the base of the stairs, Mina mumbling something soft to Cordelia and stroking her hand. When the door slid opened they both looked up, Cordelia’s hand falling from Mina’s fingers as she locked eyes with you. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed, and the blood drained from your head. The room spun, and the next thing you knew you were on the floor, Cordelia’s hands on your shoulders.

She hovered above you, hair falling from behind her ear, and she was talking to you, but as you blinked back stars all you could hear were Madison and Mina. Mina firmly asking Madison what had happened. Madison blowing her off as usual. Madison rushing up the stairs. And the tapping of Mina’s cane as she chased after her. 

Cordelia’s hand on your cheek centered you. 

“Oh my darling girl, what happened to you?”

You shook your head, wincing as your propped yourself up on your elbows. That blow to your side had stuck harder than you initially thought. 

“Nothing happened, Delia,” you tried, throat sticky from screaming and crying and swallowing down terror. She stared at you, eyes narrowing as her thumb brushed your cheek, and you knew she wouldn’t stand for that. Knew that she deserved more than you blowing her off. So you added a soft, “I just fell” at the end. And after a moment’s hesitation, she gave you a small smile, nodding. 

“Okay,” she started, but there was something behind her eyes that you couldn’t read. “How about we get you cleaned up?”

~~~ 

You had asked to bathe by yourself, but Cordelia had pushed just enough and hesitated in the doorway, and you couldn’t help it. You caved. 

She sat next to the bathtub as you curled in on yourself, her finger tracing absent circles in the water. 

“People don’t usually get this banged up from falling,” she tried again, probably the eighth way she had phrased the same question that night. But you hadn’t had time to process anything, and you wanted to at least run it through your own mind a few times before you got them involved. Before you had two other people telling you how careless you had been and how disappointed they were in you. 

“Okay,” you mumbled softly. Cordelia’s brow pushed up and she made to say something, but then there was a soft knock at the door and Mina’s voice floated through. 

“It’s me. May I come in?”

Cordelia flicked her free hand and the door opened, and then Wilhemina was looming in the doorway, eyes piercing through you as she shut the door behind her. 

She walked over slowly, leaning her cane on the sink before sitting carefully on the edge of the tub. 

You averted your gaze to your knees, tucking them further up against your chest, but not before you caught Mina reaching for Cordelia’s free hand. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, dropping your head to your knees and hugging them. This was your fault. They were both so worried and it was becoming such a thing and you hadn’t asked for any of this, but you knew if you told them everything would be so much worse. 

“What happened?” Mina asked, and the way her voice dropped, the softness there, you thought she was talking to you. But before you could blow her off Cordelia answered, voice breathless in that slight tell of her annoyance. 

“She won’t tell me.”

Mina hummed. “Madison wouldn’t tell me, either.” She shifted, and then her finger was under your chin, pulling your gaze to hers. “Are you going to tell me, princess? Or am I going to have to get it out of you another way?”

Her lip twitched up at the corner and you knew exactly what that smirk meant, but then James’s mouth overtook your thoughts. The smell of it, the feel of it, the taste of it. 

The room spun and the bath was too hot and your stomach twisted, but you swallowed it down. Forced it all down. Because they couldn’t know. They couldn’t know that you had failed so miserably in such a crucial way. 

You were a disgrace of a witch, and they would never look at you the same way if they only knew just how much you had let them down. 

A tear fell, and before you could swipe at it Cordelia’s thumb was there, brushing it away. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” Cordelia tried again, and the way her voice shook made guilt shoot through you. “Just… talk to us. Please…”

Mina reached over and stroked her fingers through Cordelia’s hair, and Cordelia smiled sadly up at her in appreciation. And in that moment, that split second on the precipice of caving, you realized that what they had was so much bigger than you. 

You had been naive before, so giddy and excited and idiotically smitten with both of them. And just yesterday you had gotten their permission to post a photo of the three of you, both of them kissing you. But as much as they spoiled you and pampered you and made you feel so special and precious in the bedroom, they hadn’t signed up for this. They didn’t need this in their lives. They had been a perfectly happy couple before taking you into their bed, and that kind of fun didn’t lend itself to this level of drama. 

So you bit down on your lip, wrapping your arms around your legs and hugging them to you. Sighed. 

“I told you. I fell. That’s all. It’s not a big deal.” 

And after a long moment of Cordelia and Mina looking between each other and you, Mina got up, swiping her cane and skirting out the door.

Cordelia cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you’re not telling us, but it’s alright. If you say that you fell, then I believe you.”

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes and nodding. 

“Thank you.”

And you meant it, because the relief of that pressure being gone, knowing they would let it rest for the time being, if not for good, was enough to pull some of the terror from around your heart and let you breathe again. 

“Now, darling,” Cordelia murmured, finger lifted from the water and tracing ever so lightly down your arm, “where do you hurt?”

~~~ 

Cordelia’s arm twitched on your waist and you flinched, James’s hand flashing through your mind. 

It had been like this for hours. You didn’t know exactly how long because you could’t see the clock on the nightstand, but long enough for both Wilhemina and Cordelia to fall asleep on either side of you, and for you to have had at least three small panic attacks after that. 

They had both been very considerate, Mina’s fingers pulling skillfully through your hair as Cordelia skimmed her fingers over your ribs. 

“Are they feeling better?” Cordelia asked, and you nodded, thanking her again for whatever touch of magic she had put in that water that made all of your broken bits mend up a little quicker. At least the physical ones. 

But now, as you lay between these two perfect women and the world heated up, degree by agonizing degree, you couldn’t help but taste the thick air of that hallway. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the red lighting. Saw his face. Every time Mina nudged against you, you felt his hands, his mouth. And when she grumbled in her sleep, pressing a soft kiss to your head, you felt his hand come down across your face. Heard the glass shattering, again and again and again. 

Eventually it was too much. You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t think and you needed space to just be. So you crawled carefully out from under the covers and off of the bed. You tiptoed to the door, opening it, and glanced behind you as Mina rolled over, whining and reaching into the empty space. And you almost paused. Almost smiled. But then her hands met Cordelia’s side and Cordelia was in her arms in a second, tucked up under her chin and legs twined together. Like you hadn’t even been there. Like they didn’t realize you were gone. 

You had been so caught up with the privilege of being between them that you hadn’t realized how perfectly they fit together without you there.  

Without you. 

And as you crawled into your own bed, under your ice cold, dusty sheets, you let yourself cry because you just wanted to make them proud. You just wanted to be good enough for one of them, let alone both. And you had utterly, miserably failed. 

~~~ 

You woke to your phone ringing, and you swiped your thumb over the screen before registering that it was your mother. 

“Hello?” you mumbled sleepily, sitting up and scrubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. She was ranting before you had pulled the phone to your ear. 

“—and I don’t pay thousands of dollars each month for you to fall into this kind of nonsense. And with the headmistress? Really? I had no idea, honestly. No idea. But this will not stand. I don’t want you here, but you’re sure as hell not staying there. Not if that’s what they’re telling you is okay. I’m going to call your father tonight and then you’re going to be put in some sort of psych ward. It’s what we should have done in the first place. Some nice, white padded walls. That’ll sort you out—“

You hung up quickly, phone falling from trembling fingers. 

No. No, no, no. 

You sat frozen on your bed for a long moment, visions of your mother screaming at you, yanking you awake as you floated above your bed, the way she had practically shoved her money at Cordelia and left you shaking and fighting tears in the middle of the lobby. 

But in the four months or so that you had been studying here, you had found your family. Your friends. For the first time in your life you felt like you belonged somewhere. 

With them. 

You shook the thought away, steeling yourself against everything that had happened the night before and resolving yourself to the fact that they wouldn’t want you anymore. 

And as you felt another panic attack settling in, you slid out of bed, changing into something clean and fresh. But somehow, even with fresh clothes and a nice bath and a few hours of sleep, you still felt dirty as you plodded quietly down the stairs to the kitchen and turned on the light. 

It was unnaturally early and none of the other girls would be up for at least an hour. Which gave you plenty of time to make yourself a cup of coffee and sort out your brain. 

But no sooner did you have a steaming mug in your hand and were just relishing the first sleep-clearing sip, then you heard something shuffle behind you. 

You whipped around, James’s face flashing through your mind. 

It was Madison. 

You let out a long breath, hand coming to your heart. 

“Jeez, Madison. You scared the shit out of me.”

She skirted around you, pouring herself a cup of your coffee. 

“You’re not going to finish this, right?” she asked mockingly, and then she was settled down at the kitchen table, knees tucked up on her chair. She looked at you for a long moment and you blinked back. “Are we going to talk about last night, or…?” 

You waved her off, making your way across the kitchen. But you stopped in the doorway, guilt washing through you. 

“I-“ you tried, turning to face her. “Thank you for helping me. And for letting me tell Delia and Mina.”

Madison made a face, and you mentally scolded yourself because you knew she hated those little nicknames. You cleared your throat. 

“Seriously. Thank you.”

She stared at you, and when she spoke her voice was flat. “So you told them?”

You nodded. A lie. 

“Both of them?”

You rolled your eyes. “Madison, if one of them knows, it’s safe to assume they both do. You know how they are.” 

And you chuckled softly at your own joke, but she wasn’t laughing. Her eyes searched your face. “You’re sure you told them?”

Another nod. 

She hummed, sipping her coffee. 

“What?”

Her eyebrows raised over her mug. “Nothing. It’s just my bedroom is close enough to theirs that I can usually hear everything you weirdos do. And it was pretty quiet last night.”

You swallowed hard. “They wanted to give me space.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

And you relaxed for a split second before she spoke again. 

“And that’s why you went back to your own room, right?”

You snapped your eyes to hers and she was challenging you, all wiggled down in her seat like a snake that was about to strike. 

“That’s none of your business,” you tried weakly. She smirked. 

“Alright.”

And your brow furrowed as you nodded. “Alright.”

~~~ 

You walked down the street, bundling your coat tighter around you and stuffing your nose into your scarf. It was cold, despite everything, and the icy wind was doing wonders to clear your head. 

You had volunteered to go on errands today, and insisted that you go alone when Cordelia offered to go with you. She hadn’t pushed, and you had been grateful. But the two or three stops you were planning on making had turned to seven, the mindless shopping and browsing doing wonders to clear your head. You were grateful for the space. The privacy. The ability to get away from Cordelia and Mina for a day and just breathe. 

It had only taken a fraction of a second. One man that got a little too close to you as he passed by you in an aisle. 

And suddenly you were acutely aware that you were utterly alone. Unprotected. Vulnerable. 

After that you saw him everywhere, tall and solid and looming. His brown hair bobbing through crowds, his face in strangers that passed by you. 

You rushed to the grocery store, desperate to get the last of your errands done and swearing that you could feel his gaze on you. Hear his voice. And as you pulled fruits and vegetables and all of Madison’s ridiculous requests into your bags, you realized that he could be anywhere. Anyone. You could run smack into him on the street and he could drag you away and no one would know what had happened to you—

Stop. 

You forced a deep breath in as you handed your groceries to the cashier, foot bouncing. Cordelia would always find you. Cordelia would always be there for you. Cordelia wouldn’t let him hurt you again. 

Except she didn’t know he had hurt you in the first place. 

Except now everything was different. 

And you were alone. 

The fear racked its way back up your throat as you walked determinately back to the school, heart hammering faster with every step. And as your pulse quickened so did your steps, until you were practically running from the ghost of his memory. Sprinting as far away from the idea of him as fast as you could. 

The pounding of your shoes on the pavement morphed into the pounding of the bass in the club. The light from the setting sun tinted too red as you remembered the flashing lights. And his hands. His hands everywhere…

By the time you reached the school you were out of breath, cheeks wet from tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. You yanked the gate open, not bothering to shut it behind you as you blinked around your blurred vision. 

You could feel him behind you, even though you knew he wasn’t there. Could feel him breathing down your neck.

You ran up the front steps to the academy, pushing away thoughts of him wandering the city. The fact that you could run into him at any point on any given day. The fact that you weren’t safe. 

The doors to the house swung open as you hit the landing and Kyle greeted you with a small smile, but it quickly melted off his face as you pushed by him and forced the doors shut. 

“I’m fine, Kyle,” you said in response to his unasked question. But the way your breaths were coming out of you, ragged and short and strangled from running, you knew it didn’t sound believable. 

“Can you take these to the kitchen?” 

His eyes caught your shaking hands as he took the bags from you and he frowned, but you brushed him off, heading straight for the stairs. 

You just needed a minute to catch your breath. 

And you almost made it. 

You were only three steps away from the staircase when Wilhemina’s fingers gripped around your arm, pulling you back against her. 

“Where do you think you’re going, sneaking upstairs before saying hello?” she murmured against your ear, and your knees went weak because oh lord, there was no air to breathe in this room. You swallowed around your dry throat, forcing steady breaths out of your lungs. Schooled your features. 

But you didn’t turn around. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lied. And you should have known better. She could read you like a book, especially when you tried to lie to her. But after a brief pause, fingers twitching on your arm, she let you go. 

“Alright little one, just don’t be too long.” Her voice was low and it floated up behind you as you made too quickly for the stairs. “We missed you terribly and Delia made your favorite tonight.” 

And you nodded as you fled, retreating to the safety and privacy of the bathroom and forcing deep breaths down as you blinked at yourself in the mirror. 

And that’s when the tears came. Hard, heavy, and fast.

You didn’t realize how long you had been crying in there, curled in on yourself and shaking, until one of the girls knocked on the door and told you that dinner was ready.

~~~

They both stared at you through dinner. And it was probably your fault. 

For one thing, you hadn’t sat next to either of them, too afraid that if Mina slid her hand over your knee or Cordelia pushed a strand of hair out of your face you would lose it in front of everyone. So you situated yourself safely between Madison and Zoe, whispering with Madison that yes everything was back to normal, and thanking her quietly for not asking too many questions. 

Cordelia ate quietly, laughing softly with some of the girls. But you could feel Mina’s eyes on you like a knife, could feel the heat of her gaze with every twitch of your brow or quirk of your lip. 

At one point you gathered the courage to look up at them, but neither of them were paying you any attention, Mina’s eyes on Cordelia’s lap as Cordelia whispered in her ear. She nodded slowly as Cordelia slid her hand over Mina’s, and you saw Cordelia’s brow furrow, just so.

~~~

Cordelia caught you after dinner, sidled up against Madison and drying the dishes as she washed them. 

“Can I see you in the greenhouse for a moment?” she asked politely, her voice hitting that pitch that it always did when she was around the other girls. 

You hesitated, licking your lips slowly before nodding. 

And as you left, Cordelia’s hand skating over your lower back, Madison called out, “You don’t have to ask so politely, Foxxy. We all know you’re going to bang her brains out.”

~~~

Wilhemina hit her cane on the stone of the greenhouse floor and you flinched in Cordelia’s arms. She squeezed you tighter to her and you pulled yourself down as small as you could in her embrace.

“You don’t keep secrets from us, princess,” Mina tried again, something like regret flicking across her features at your reaction. “Understood? Just tell us what happened and everything will be okay.”

“We can’t help you if you don’t talk to us, darling,” Cordelia tried, pulling away and holding you at arms length. She searched your eyes and you ducked your head. 

“Nothing happened,” you said for the millionth time in the last twenty minutes. 

And Cordelia released you this time, eyes finding Mina’s behind you as she swallowed. 

“Alright.”

~~~

You planned on changing in the bathroom that night, brushing it off on the fact that you wanted to shower. And this time, when Cordelia offered to join you, you refused. 

The water did wonders to clear your head, letting the past days, the past week, the constant nagging, wash off your back as you scrubbed yourself down with soap. And when you stepped out of the tub, wrapping the plush towel around you and swiping the steam off the mirror, you let yourself smile at the fact that you actually felt clean. 

You pulled the comb through your hair slowly, relishing the quiet of the bathroom and the sheer space around you. No one pushing in. No one asking questions. No one’s eyes boring into your back as you tried to mind your own business.

But when you reached for your pajamas and your hand hit air, you frowned. You must have left them on their bed. 

Shit. 

A deep breath, and then you steeled yourself, tucking the towel tightly around yourself and plodding back to Cordelia’s room. 

You passed by Coco on the way and she looked you up and down, biting down on a snort. “Someone’s getting lucky tonight, huh?”

You faked a smile, hand frozen on the doorknob. “Go to bed, Coco.”

“Will I be able to sleep? These walls are thinner than you three think.”

“Go to bed, Coco,” you tried again, rolling your eyes. 

And then she was off, grumbling something about how she would have already been in bed if you hadn’t taken so long in the shower. 

You knocked softly on the door and waited for Cordelia’s muffled “come in” before turning the knob and entering. 

She was siting on the edge of the bed, Wilhemina standing next to her as she pulled the pins from her hair. And from the scowls on their faces they had clearly been in some sort of deep conversation. 

They both looked up when you entered, Mina dropping her loose pins into Cordelia’s outstretched hand. 

“Well, well,” Cordelia started, smirking as her eyes raked over you. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

You cleared your throat, hugging your towel closer to your chest. You ignored the way Cordelia’s smirk faltered. “I left my pajamas in here. Sorry.”

She shifted on the mattress, crossing her legs as Mina leaned up against the post of the bed and looked at you through lidded eyes. Her brow raised. 

“Why on earth are you apologizing, princess?” 

And you gaped around words, because you really didn’t know. 

“You know,” Cordelia drawled, glancing up at Mina and smirking at the unspoken words between them. “Mina and I were just thinking that it had been quite some time since we spoiled you.” Her hands skimmed down her thighs, fingers playing with the fabric of her nightgown. “And we’ve missed you ever so much.”

James’s voice flooded your mind, making you flinch. 

This is mine.

Mina pulled herself off of the bedpost, stalking towards you. And you knew that look. You knew those predatory eyes. You knew what it meant when her fingers twitched on the head of her cane like that. And with every tap against the wood, James’s words rang in your ears. 

“You know, you really don’t need that towel.” 

Did you miss me, baby?

“Not when you have the two of us to keep you warm.”

I don’t care how many women you sleep with.

“To make you feel good.”

It will always be mine.

“To make you forget about whatever is worrying that pretty little mind of yours.” 

Do you understand?

And she was almost to you, just out of arms reach, when you ducked around her and fled to the edge of the bed, scrambling to scoop up your pajamas. 

“I-I think I’d rather sleep in my room tonight, if that’s okay.”

And when Cordelia frowned you mumbled some excuse about feeling ill. 

“Do you need me to get you anything?” Cordelia tried, hand reaching out to catch your arm as you passed. 

But you dodged her too, throwing a “no, it’s alright” behind you as you practically ran from the room.

~~~ 

“Did you and Foxxy break up?”

You rolled your eyes, flicking to the next page in your book. 

“I’m trying to read, Madison.”

She sauntered over, perching on the edge of the couch. “I’m just asking.”

And as she snatched a cigarette out of the holder on the coffee table and lit it, you let your curiosity get the better of you and put your book down. 

You sighed. “Why are you asking?”

She shrugged, dragging on her cigarette. “You took the Instagram picture down. You know, the gross one where Venny was practically licking your face.” 

And you rolled your eyes again, half at her attitude, half at the nickname. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you started, shifting on the couch and crossing your legs under you, “but no. We didn’t break up.”

She let out a soft “huh”, blowing another puff of smoke. And just when you thought she had let it go and went to grab your book back, she spoke again. “Why’d you take it down?”

And your eyebrows raised in frustration as you looked over at her. “Because I felt like it.”

“That’s bullshit.”

And you flinched at her tone. “What?”

“I said that’s bullshit,” she tried again, dragging the words out sarcastically. “We both know you caved to your awful mother.”

And this time you actually froze. “Madison, what are you talking about?”

The only person who knew anything about your mother was Cordelia, and potentially Wilhemina. Cordelia had met her briefly and whether or not she remembered the woman enough to discuss her with Mina, you couldn’t say. You were definitely careful not to bring her up in conversation. And honestly, they never really asked about your home life. No one did. 

There was an unspoken “no pry” policy between the girls, and it made it easier to forget the past and concentrate on your studies. 

Madison flicked her cigarette, leaning back on the arm of the couch. “I heard Foxxy talking to her on the phone the other day. Damn, that woman can rant.”

You blinked at her, trying to find the right words. But all you landed on was, “Cordelia was talking to my mother?”

“Yeah, and taking some pretty detailed notes.” 

You were off the couch in a second, heading straight for the door. But Madison caught your wrist, cackling. 

“Jeez, I was kidding. Relax.”

You paused and seriously considered yanking your hand from her grip and smacking her across the face because honestly. But you took a deep breath instead, setting your jaw as you flopped back down on the couch. 

“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?”

Madison hummed. “What are you so afraid of? That your perfect girlfriends will learn about your deep, dark past?”

You sighed. “I don’t have a deep, dark past. As boring as it may sound.”

She scoffed. “Exactly. So what’s the issue?” 

You huffed, pushing your hand to your forehead. “She threatened to pull me out of here. Throw me in an institution somewhere and lock me away.”

“Shit…”

You glanced up at Madison, all traces of playful banter gone. She actually looked pale. 

“What, no witty comeback?”

She shook her head slowly, studying you. “You know Cordelia would never let that happen, right?”

You waved her off. 

“No, I mean it. Even if you weren’t screwing her. You’re one of us. And she would never let that happen.”

And you hated that tears were pricking your eyes. “Maybe before, but not now.”

“Now…?” Madison prompted, swinging her legs over and sliding down onto the couch with you. 

When you spoke again, your voice was thick with unshed tears. “I failed, Madison. I couldn’t even defend myself from one stupid guy. I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t…” You swallowed hard. “I don’t deserve them.”

And she actually laughed. “You’re kidding, right? Do you think I knew how to choke a person out after only being here for a few months? You’re not supposed to know how to do that yet. Or really at all, I guess? I don’t know, I stole one of Foxxy’s books a while back.”

You chuckled, tracing the fabric of the couch and picking at it softly. “That’s all fine and good, but—“

Madison cut you off, waving her cigarette in your face. “I swear if you’re about to say that you’re ‘damaged goods’ and whine about how sorry I’m supposed to feel for you, I’m leaving right now.”

You groaned, smacking her hand out of your face and falling back on the couch. “What the hell am I supposed to do, Madison?”

She snorted. “You’re asking me for advice?”

You cackled, scrubbing your hands over your face. “Now do you understand how desperate I am?”

And as she leaned back on the couch and propped her feet up on the arm, dragging on her cigarette, she reached her hand out to you. When you took it, she squeezed. “You can start by saying ‘fuck the haters’.” 

You quirked your brow, looking up at her. But she sure as hell looked like she wasn’t joking, and you were willing to do anything at this point. So you cupped your hands around your mouth, dropping your voice a few octaves. 

“Fuck the haters.”

“There you go,” Madison laughed, and the two of you went back and forth, saying “fuck the haters” louder and louder as you giggled and smacked at each other. 

You didn’t see Cordelia watching you from the doorway. Didn’t see her brow push up as you laughed. Didn’t see her nose twitch against tears as you fell back on the couch, legs kicking at Madison. 

Didn’t see her bite her lip as she turned, sighing. 

You didn’t see her.

~~~ 

A soft knock. And you knew she was expecting you, so you weren’t surprised when the door opened of its own accord. 

You lingered in the doorway. 

“You wanted to see me?”

Cordelia looked up from her desk, pushing the hair off of her face. 

“Come on in, beautiful.”

You smiled at her, closing the door behind you. But you couldn’t help the slight tremble in your hands because somehow, in some way, you felt like you were in trouble. 

She gestured across her desk. “Sit.”

And yes, you were definitely in trouble, because you hadn’t sat across her desk in months. She always had you sit in her lap. Pushed you against the wall. Sat you up on her desk. 

You squirmed in the chair, fingers twitching in your lap. “Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head, waving you off as she finished writing out some paperwork. She stacked the pages together and set them aside, and then her hands were folded on her desk and she was leaning forward, and you couldn’t read the expression on her face. 

You could tell what Mina was thinking by the way she inhaled. Knew the language of Cordelia’s fingers twitching better than speaking. But this past week had proved more difficult, all of their actions and decisions shrouded in some sort of secret code that only they could decipher.

You were utterly lost. And it terrified you. 

Cordelia cleared her throat. “I had initially thought that it was Madison that hurt you—”

“What?” you started, but she held her hand up. 

“I had initially thought that it was Madison that hurt you, and that’s why you wouldn’t tell Mina or I what happened.”

You shook your head. “She helped me. It wasn’t her fault at all.”

And Delia hummed. “I see that now.”

You nodded softly. Cordelia’s eyes narrowed as she studied you. And after only a few moments you found it difficult to breathe. 

It was different on this side of the desk. She was intense. Intimidating. You had never doubted her power, but you had always wondered how this woman who was always so soft and open and pliable with you and Mina could command an entire coven, let alone fight in wars against warlocks and voodoo queens and witch hunters. But now, sitting opposite her and very distinctly feeling like you were in trouble, not to mention that rooted gut feeling that you had let her down and the guilt of having lied to her — your skin was vibrating and your heart was pounding and you suddenly realized precisely why she was the Supreme. 

She was power personified. 

A powerful presence, a powerful love. A powerful voice. Powerful magic. 

She could snap her fingers and make the entire human population bend to its knees. Or maybe it was just you. The other girls didn’t seem to be afraid of her. 

“Your mother called me.”

Her words snapped you out of your thoughts. You swallowed. 

“Oh?”

A nod. “Do you want to leave this coven?”

Your heart sunk into your stomach, and when you spoke, your voice was smaller than you would have liked.

“Please don’t let her take me.”

You heard the way it came out of your mouth, weak and broken. You saw the way Cordelia’s eyes softened and her brow pulled together. Watched her fingers twitch. 

But where she normally would have reached for you, pulled you into her lap and kissed you until you were giggling, ravished you with reassurances, she only cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair. 

“Alright. That will be all.”

You blinked at her for a moment, stunned, before standing and thanking her. And as you turned to leave, fighting tears at her casual dismissal as you realized that she was already done with you, that she had already stopped caring, she called your name. 

You spun, hope flaring in your chest, but she wasn’t looking at you. 

“You should thank Madison. She covered for you well.” 

Cordelia dragged her pen through the air as she spoke, waving absently toward the door. 

A soft nod as you swallowed, fighting yourself on whether or not you should answer. But Cordelia was already buried back in her paperwork and she clearly didn’t have time for you, especially not when she had already given up. Before she even knew how broken you were. Because you had lied to her. Over and over again. 

This was all your fault. 

So you turned, wringing your hands as you pulled the door to Cordelia’s office open. You paused in the doorway, working against your better judgement and looking back at her once more. 

Nothing. You doubted she even realized you were still there.

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning back against it and steadying your breaths out in the empty hallway, hands shaking against the wood. 

That night, for the first time in months, you slept alone in your room without telling either of them where you were going. Without making an excuse. Without any sort of explanation. 

And no one came looking for you. 

~~~ 

The next day was impossibly long. 

Cordelia and Mina were both out on errands, and they wouldn’t be back until the afternoon. You and Zoe has been left in charge of the girls, but while Zoe led the lessons, all you could do was watch from the corner, mind churning over the past week on an endless loop. 

And by the time both women returned that afternoon, you had resolved yourself to studying alone in the kitchen. Cordelia would go straight to her greenhouse if you knew her, and Mina almost always went right to her study to get off of her feet and file whatever paperwork she had collected on their run. 

So you startled when one of the younger girls scrambled into the kitchen, bouncing on her toes and looking around nervously.

“Millie?” you tried, putting your book down and walking over to her. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. Shook her head. Nodded again. 

“What’s wrong?”

And when she spoke, the words tumbled out of her mouth like she was afraid if she paused they would bite her. 

“Ms. Venable said she wants to see you in her room right now and if you’re not up there in two minutes she’s going to come find me and make me scrub the toxic ooze out of the bottoms of Cordelia’s rose pots with no gloves to protect my childlike hands.”

You couldn’t help but smile fondly, because it was honestly adorable how terrified everyone was of Mina. And you could tell Millie was repeating her words verbatim.  

“Alright. Thank you, Millie.” You gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder as you made to leave the kitchen. Paused as you heard her panting softly behind you. “And just so you know… Roses don’t produce ‘toxic ooze’. And you don’t have childlike hands.”

You saw her glance down at her fingers, nodding slowly, and then she scrambled out of the room as quickly as she had come. 

~~~ 

It was less than two minutes by the time you made it up to their room, but when you opened the door, Wilhemina and Cordelia were standing in the middle of the space like they had been waiting for hours. 

“We need to have a talk,” Mina said, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

“You scared the hell out of Millie,” you deflected. Neither of them laughed. 

Instead, Cordelia reached forward and took your hand, pulling you over to the bed and sitting you down on the edge of it. She drew back, fingers falling from yours, and her and Mina exchanged a look that you couldn’t read. 

Cordelia wedged her thumb between her teeth as she looked you over, hand on Mina’s arm. And just when you started to brace yourself for your universe to split to pieces as they told you that this was over, just as you started building hard steel walls around your heart, Cordelia spoke. 

“Who hurt you?” 

Oh. 

You almost groaned, annoyed at the fact that they wouldn’t just let it go. But you told yourself that maybe if they were still stuck on it after all this time, maybe it meant that they still cared about you. Maybe you had been wrong. And you certainly weren’t going to jeopardize that now. So you lied. Just like you had hundreds of times in the past week. And you hated the fact that it was almost getting easy. 

“No one, Delia. I fell.”

All it took was a glance from Cordelia and Mina stepped forward, fingers twitching on her cane. 

“Don’t lie, princess.”

“I’m not lying.”

She scoffed, hard and loud as she tapped her cane down. “See but we think you are, little one.”

And Cordelia hummed, moving to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. “Why have you been avoiding us, darling?”

“I-I haven’t,” you countered weakly, swallowing hard. 

Mina tutted, walking over and tipping your chin up. “Lying again. What a naughty girl you are.”

You whimpered, fingers curling in the sheets as Mina’s hand moved to your throat. And she wouldn’t have known. Couldn’t have. But everything inside of you tensed, and you fought to keep yourself grounded in the moment. Refused to let your mind wander to that stupid red hallway. 

“Looks like we’re going to have to do this my way,” she continued, tapping at your ankles with her cane. “Over Delia’s lap. Now.”

But Cordelia held up her hand, the heat of her gaze raking over you. You saw her eyes narrow and her brow furrow, and then her fingers were on Mina’s wrist as she pried her hand off of your throat. 

“No,” Cordelia said firmly, tugging Mina down onto the bed next to you. “We’re going to do it my way this time.”

A look was exchanged between Cordelia and Mina, and Mina nodded, just so. And then Cordelia was running her hand over your shoulder, fingers pushing and massaging and working their way up to the base of your neck. 

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Cordelia tried again, and you went to protest, but something stopped you. 

Cordelia hummed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“There we go,” she said softly, encouragingly, and your eyes went wide as Mina’s hand found your knee. 

“Delia what did you mean when you said—“ 

Mina cut you off, shushing you and pressing a kiss to your temple. 

Something pricked at your nose and you flinched, fingers twisting in the sheets at your side. 

Cordelia stroked her hands through your hair, fingers leaving warmth in their wake.

“It’s alright darling, just relax.”

Mina hummed, adjusting herself on the bed. Your eyes fluttered shut at the tap of her cane as she shifted. 

“You’re safe here,” Cordelia continued, and you felt Mina’s thumb brush over the dip of your knee. “We just want to help you. Now tell us what happened, beautiful.”

You had barely registered her request when the words pushed out of your mouth. 

“I didn’t fall. He hit me,” you started, and your eyes went wide as you dug your teeth into your lip. Cordelia’s brow creased and Mina’s fingers tightened on your knee. 

A pause as they looked at each other. 

“Who hit you?” Cordelia asked.

“My ex.” Your teeth came down on your lip again, harder this time. You tasted blood. 

“And why did he hit you, princess?” Mina’s voice was low. Steady. Surprisingly calm.

“Because he was—“ you started, the words snaking past your teeth before you bit down on your cheek. A deep breath. “Delia, what are you doing to me?” 

Her smirk twitched up at the corner, tugged up with her brows as her fingers strung through your hair. “Why did he hit you?” 

“Because he was trying to—“ And this time you covered your mouth with your hand, determination locking into your features. 

Cordelia furrowed her brow and shook her head, just so. “Don’t fight it honey, it’ll be so much easier if you just tell us what happened.”

“I don’t want to.” And now tears were pricking at your eyes because you knew what she had done. And you knew that you had driven them to this. And you knew that there was no way you could fight it. 

“Why not?” It was Mina, thumb brushing over your cheek. 

A sniffle. A shaky breath. And then you couldn’t hold onto it anymore and the truth fell out of you.

About how you had failed them, how you had failed as a witch. How he had pushed himself on you. Had hit you over the head with his glass. How Madison had saved you and defended you and covered for you like you had asked. How you were a disappointment. How you understood that they wouldn’t want to be with you anymore. That they didn’t sign up for this. 

At some point during your explanation, Cordelia had vaulted off the bed, pacing the room as Mina’s hand rubbed slow circles on your back. 

They let you go, let you talk, let you stumble over your thoughts and squeeze every last detail from your memory. And you weren’t sure how long it had taken, but by the time you finished the sun had set and a cool chill was billowing the curtains. 

You finished your explanation with a soft “I’m sorry”, more a breath than a final statement. And your body deflated as Mina pressed a kiss to your temple, the weight of the week and the pressure of keeping a secret from them finally lifting from your shoulders as sobs pushed up your throat. 

You thought that maybe you had done the right thing, letting everything go. That maybe, somehow, everything would fall back into place. But while Mina’s touches were soft and her mouth was warm as she pressed kisses along your hairline, Cordelia had hardened and a cold energy poured off of her. 

“What’s his full name?” Cordelia’s voice was as firm as you had ever heard it, pitched deep and low. 

You wiped sloppily at your cheeks and sniffed hard. “James Conroy.” 

Mina hummed, and it was almost a growl, but when you looked over at her she smiled reassuringly. “You’re doing great.”

“And his address?”

“I-I don’t know,” you tried, your brain pulling every piece of information you had on him to the forefront of your mind. Pushed the words onto your tongue. “He used to live by the French Quarter, but he might have moved.”

“His full address, Y/N. Now.”

“I—“ you tried, but your voice broke because you really didn’t know. Your mind was blank. Your mouth was empty. There was no other information you could present. 

“I said now!” Cordelia whirled on you, fire in her eyes. And Mina’s hand froze on your back.

“Delia,” Mina started, voice low. “She said she doesn’t know. Let it go.” 

Cordelia flicked her hand up. Wilhemina’s fingers sprung off of you and flew to her throat, and you watched in horror as her mouth moved around silent words. As she clawed at the soft skin under her jaw, brow creased and hot eyes on Cordelia. 

But then your head was whipped back to Cordelia, heat pressing in on your cheeks as you were held in place by an invisible force. Frozen in time. 

“Address,” she said again, voice thick and deep.

“I don’t know.” The words left you before you had decided to open your mouth.

“Last known residence.”

“I don’t know.” 

“Workplace.”

“I don’t know.” 

And your throat was heating up with the rapid fire questions, cheeks pressed in firmly to keep you still as your hands dug into the bedsheets. Found Mina’s thigh and squeezed. You heard a gasping sound and glanced over at Mina, saw her jaw set as the gears turned in her head.

“Physical description,” Cordelia continued, fingers twitching on the outstretched hand holding Mina’s voice in place. 

“B-Brown hair,” you choked out, and tears flooded your vision when you felt pressure constrict on your throat. It was starting to hurt, your brain working faster than you could fathom, swimming with information you thought was long forgotten. You could feel Cordelia digging through it, digging through your memories like a hungry animal. 

“Eye color.”

“Brown.”

“Height.”

“S-Six foot.”

And her fingers twitched at her side as the invisible fingers on your throat tightened. 

“Build.”

“A-Average. Broad shoulders,” you choked out, gasping around the crushing of your windpipe. And then James’s hand was there, pushing you, pinning you, choking you, sliding between your legs.

You gulped down air, struggling to breathe, struggling to think. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and snot ran past your lips. It was too hot. It was too much. And your eyes rolled back in your head as every nerve was set on edge. 

It all happened so fast. 

The world swam in black and red, thoughts and memories whipping across your vision faster than you could comprehend. Cordelia’s voice cracking as she yelled at you, something about not being good enough. Not being enough. And the pieces of her chastisement that you could hear made you scream because you were trying for Christ’s sake. The sound got stuck in your throat, fire against the words that were trying to fight their way out of your mouth. A growl from Cordelia that fell straight inside your brain. Your lungs constricted as everything was pulled from inside of you. And then the sharp rap of Mina’s cane cracked through your mind.

It hit so hard it should have split the wood, and in that second, you were released. 

“Enough, Cordelia!”

You gulped down air as your vision came back, and the relief of having the pressure pulled from you made you feel like you were hovering off the bed. 

There was a long silence as you sobbed, choking on snot and air and tears. And it wasn’t until you tore your eyes from Cordelia that you realized Mina had an arm across you, blocking you with her body and pushing herself between you and Cordelia. 

Cordelia froze, blinking. “I—“ she tried, voice raspy. And her eyes went wide as tears welled. “I…”

She must have still been holding some piece of you, however small. Because in that moment, whatever spell was still on you broke and you crumpled in on yourself, doubling over Mina’s arm and curling against her side as you gasped and sobbed into your knees. 

And when Mina spoke again, you could barely hear her low voice through the sound of your sniffling, your face buried too far into her shoulder. 

“That’s enough.”

A long silence stretched. You felt Mina move softly with her breaths, hand stroking your thigh. But she was stiff. Too tall. Challenging. 

And after what felt like an eternity you heard the heavy click of heels, a soft “Mina…” Felt Mina shake her head slowly. And then the door slammed. 

Mina took a deep breath, shoulders falling just so as she sighed. 

“Alright, princess. It’s okay. She’s gone. It’s just me.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of your head and then she was pulling her arm from your grip and sliding her hand across your cheek, tugging your face from behind her shoulder. 

“Come on, little one. Look at me.”

You sniffed, leaning into her touch as you let her pull your face to hers and press a soft kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered open, vision blurred by tears that were still falling. 

“No no, princess. Don’t cry,” she started, brow furrowed as her eyes searched yours. “Everything is going to be okay.”

You sniffed, wiping at you cheeks. And the way she was looking at you, so worried. So tenderly. She had only looked at you that softly once before, after the first time she had used her cane on you. You wouldn’t have even noticed if you hadn’t squinted your eyes open that night after she thought you had fallen asleep. But as much love as she normally poured over you, this look was something different. 

And suddenly you felt very small and very, very stupid. 

You straightened, clearing your throat and sniffing against more tears. 

But Mina knew what you were doing and her fingers were instantly in your hair, scratching your scalp in that way that always put you straight to sleep. 

“Shh, princess,” she cooed, tipping your chin up. And you fought to avoid her gaze, but her fingers twitched and she whispered your name, and when you met her eyes she smiled. “You don’t need to do that.”

You shook your head, brushing her off, but her fingers tightened on your chin, just so, and your eyes snapped back to hers. “You don’t do that with me, okay?” A pause. “Ever.”

You gulped, sniffing as fresh tears welled in your eyes. 

And when Mina spoke again, her voice was low. Hoarse. “Please don’t do that with me. If you’re not okay, tell me. If something happens, tell me. You scared the hell out of us.”

You choked on a whimper, sobs pushing up your throat. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. But she cut you off.

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” A soft kiss to your forehead. “Just don’t shut us out. Okay?”

You nodded softly. “Okay.”

“I love you,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your eyes. “And Delia loves you, too. That’s the only reason she lost control.”

You sniffled at her words, and this time when the tears fell onto your cheeks you weren’t sure if they were fresh or bottled up somewhere from before. 

“You’re not going to leave me?” Your hands fidgeted in your lap and you picked a point on Mina’s dress to study, too afraid of what would happen if you were looking her in the eye and she said yes. 

“What? I—“ Mina cut off, trying to catch your gaze. “Who told you that? Was it Madison, because I swear—“

You shook your head, swiping at your tears. “No, I just... figured you wouldn’t want me if I was...” A sniff, and the words got caught in your throat but you pushed them out. “If I was broken like this...”

Mina’s eyes went wide as her brow furrowed and she let out a soft “oh, no no” before licking her lips and swallowing. 

Her hand fell from your chin and she shifted, patting her lap. “Come here.”

She helped you lean over, still shaking from the vice grip Cordelia had on you earlier, and you rested your head on her lap, curling up on the edge of the bed. Her hand was back on your thigh in an instant, tracing soft circles as her fingers carded through your hair and over your scalp. 

“Relax, little one.” 

And you barely had time to nod, to sigh against the love her fingers were pushing into you, before your eyes grew heavy and you were lulled into a deep sleep. 

~~~ 

Soft voices woke you from dreams of Cordelia’s hair and Mina’s hands, and you whined softly as you shifted, waiting for one of them to grab you and pull you close. Reaching for their heat. 

Nothing. 

You shifted in bed and noted that you had been tucked under covers and that there were plush pillows fanned around you. But you didn’t open your eyes, sinking back into that soft twilight of warmth and peace between sleep and consciousness. 

At the rustling of the sheets the voices paused and you froze, face buried in your pillow. After a moment they continued, though, and you smiled to yourself at the warmth that threaded through you from those voices alone. The sense of safety and security that the sound brought with it. 

“You need to eat.”

“I’m not leaving her, Mina.”

“Then let me bring something up—“

“No, I’m… No.”

A pause, a dissatisfied hum, and Cordelia spoke again.

“Where was he?”

You frowned.

“Madison found him scrounging some bar. She might not be much, but she sure can pick an asshole out of a crowd.”

A soft chuckle, and then a long silence.

“What’s wrong, little duck?”

Cordelia took a shaky breath.

“I feel like I failed her…”

You heard Mina’s cane tap, heard fabric shuffle.

“You found him, you did everything you could do.”

When Cordelia spoke again she sounded so small. Her voice wavered. “But I wasn’t there for her. I— We weren’t there for her, Mina. Our girl. She was scared and she was hurt and she was alone—“

Her voice cracked and you heard shuffling, and you propped yourself up in the bed as heat flooded your cheeks. 

Cordelia sat in the plush chair by the window, sunlight streaming in and turning her hair to gold. Her head was buried in Mina’s stomach as Mina smoothed her hands over her back, shushing her and cooing at her and holding Cordelia against her. Cordelia’s shoulders shook and you heard a soft sob catch in her throat as her hands tightened over Mina’s arms. 

And watching your Supreme, so small and helpless and broken. Because of you. Because she felt like she had failed you. After you had been so worried you had failed her. 

Something broke in your chest and you sniffed against tears as they dripped down your cheeks. 

And Mina, ever present and always impeccably observant, caught the sound. She looked over at you and a soft smile played across her lips, eyes softening. 

“Good morning, little one.”

You gave her your best smile, eyes flicking back to Cordelia as your brows pushed up. 

“Delia…?” you tried softly, and in an instant she had pushed herself off of Mina, wiping hastily at her eyes and schooling her features. She smiled at you, clearing her throat as her nose twitched around the ghost of tears.

“Hi, darling. How are you feeling?” 

She gulped, and you watched her throat bob, and then you couldn’t help it. You climbed off of the bed, drawn to her like a magnet despite everything that had happened. Because she had just been trying to help. She had been doing the only thing she knew to keep you safe. To protect you. You had hidden and lied and locked them both out. And they both deserved better than that. 

Cordelia deserved so much better than this guilt that slumped her shoulders and pulled the light from her eyes. She had been there for you when you wanted nothing more than to block her out. Desperate not to lose her. And now it was your turn. 

Mina stepped back as you approached, and you slid your hand over Cordelia’s as she offered you a weak smile. 

“Feeling better?” she tried again, but you only laced your fingers together, pulling her arm around you as you curled up in her lap and rested your head on her chest. Her free hand stroked through your hair on instinct and you felt her brow furrow. “What are you doing?”

You nuzzled your face into her chest, humming. “Thank you.”

She tilted her head and her hair fell into your face, tickling your nose. “What?”

Mina chuckled behind you, and you heard her cane tap as she perched herself on the edge of the chair. You looked up at both of them, trying to push the love and gratitude that was threatening to burst out of your chest through your eyes and into them. Mina smiled at you knowingly, fingers playing absently through Cordelia’s hair. 

You reached out and took her free hand, squeezing their fingers as you spoke. 

“Thank you. Both of you. For everything. I’m sorry I kept all of this from you.”

They both murmured soft reassurances matched with warm smiles, but you felt like it wasn’t enough. So you brought both of their hands to your lips, kissing their knuckles. 

“I love you both… So much.”

“You know we love you too, darling. That’s why we needed to know what happened.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Cordelia continued, and her voice went from sultry to strangled in a second.

You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

“Neither do you,” Cordelia countered, nails scratching lightly against your scalp. “Not one bit.”

“But I lied to you.” You shook your head, gaze dropping to your lap. “To both of you. After you have been nothing but kind to me. After you let me in and let me love you… And I—“

“No no no,” Cordelia tried again. “I should have never lost my temper like that—“

And then she squeaked and you whipped your head up. Mina was leaning over you, kissing Cordelia deeply, and it shouldn’t have made you squirm, especially after everything that had happened. But it did. 

Cordelia giggled as she felt you shift in her lap and she broke away, looking down at you knowingly. 

“Are you alright, darling?”

You cleared your throat. But before you could speak, Mina’s hand was on your cheek and she looked between you and Cordelia. 

“We’re stopping this nonsense now. Understood?” She arched a perfect brow. “You’re both sorry. You’ve both apologized. And you’ve both learned your lesson. And if you haven’t, well then leave that bridge for me to cross.”

And the look in her eyes as she smirked at you was so predatory that you couldn’t help but whine.

“Alright, little one?”

You nodded, mouth gone dry.

“Little duck?”

And Cordelia nodded, clearing her throat. When you looked up at her, her cheeks had flushed pink, and you knew it was because she still wasn’t used to being so exposed in front of someone other than Mina. That little name got straight under her skin and it never failed to make you grin. 

“Good,” Mina continued, squeezing your hand in hers and pressing a kiss to the top of your hair. “Now how about we all go get some lunch?”

Mina helped you slide off of Cordelia’s lap, untangling your arms and untucking your legs. And as you followed her to the door, Cordelia’s fingers ghosted hesitantly over the small of your back, over your waist, like she didn’t want to touch you but couldn’t fathom doing anything else. You glanced back, slipping your hands over hers and guiding them around your stomach. And the smile she offered you made your knees go weak. 

“Oh, and Delia?” Mina threw over her shoulder, reaching for the doorknob. “If you even think about going that hard on her again, let alone taking my voice, I’ll cane you in the foyer in front of everyone. Understood?”

[tentendeservedbetter]

home is where my team is - Chapter 5

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The moment Kurenai left them through a pile of small, pink, cherry blossom petals on the ground, Shino was already making his way towards her without missing a beat, ready to dive into this test. The set up of this test took him back, it definitely did; having to not only use everything he learned about tracking from the Academy, but also having to apply his knowledge about all three of the ninja arts in order to find Kurenai and get her headband? The more he thought about it, the more complicated it became, and it was definitely more complicated than what they had to do to pass the Academy.

This test made sense to Shino though; anyone can pass a written exam and create a clone...except if you’re Naruto Uzumaki, maybe, then you’re just built different… but not everyone has the capabilities and the competency to be a shinobi.

And especially not a tracker shinobi at that.

He bent down to pick up a petal from the pile, looking at it, rubbing it against his fingers to- did Kiba just smell the petal? With his own nose?? He really wasn’t lying about having a sense of smell, but Shino wasn’t expecting to see it in action this soon. The way his nose moved slightly after sniffing the petal, his head automatically moving around, smelling the air; he really is keeping up with his clan’s image.

Nevermind, Shino didn’t have time to think about what Kiba was in the middle of doing; he was in the middle of processing two different thoughts at once, trying to connect them. The first was to ensure that the petals were real and not a Genjutsu that Kurenai was keeping them trapped in.

After Kiba finished smelling the petal, he held it towards the puppy, his little brown nose wiggling as it inhaled the scent, before barking out a bunch of “arfs” and looking out off the Hokage Rock. He then bent his knees, readying himself to bound off towards the stairs heading down from the Rock, and lifted a leg up to start running, when Shino automatically stood up, the words falling out of his mouth.

“Hold on.”

Kiba stopped quickly, stomping his leg on the ground, nearly tipping over his foot.

“There is no hold on. This is a test and only one of us can pass.”

I know that already, Shino thought. “That’s why I said hold on. There’s something weird about it.”

“Listen. It’s weird because her reasoning for only passing one of us is incredibly vague," Shino said cautiously, slowly, trying to process the million ways he could convey the doubt he had with this entire situation. "Don’t you find it strange that they would go through the trouble of putting us in specific teams only for one of us to pass?”

“It...It doesn’t matter who I’m with. Even if I weren’t with you guys, I’m pretty sure the rules would be the same.”

Alright then.

“Kiba,” Hinata started, standing nearby Shino, her voice tapering off as soon as she started, her eyes trailing away from Kiba when he glanced over at her.

And with that Kiba turned around, Shino expecting him to pounce off away- Shino looked back down to the pile of flowers, not bothering to say anything more. He can do whatever he wants. Why did Shino even think that Kiba would actually take the moment to listen to him and what he had to say? The Inuzuka hasn’t listened to any authoritative figure in his entire life, he’s definitely not going to listen to Shino-

“She’s headed towards Training Ground 1.”

His words were quiet, the quietest that Shino has ever heard the Inuzuka spoke, and likely the first and last time he’ll ever use that tone. With that, Kiba gave a simple command to Akamaru, and they bounded off the path in a blink of an eye.

Well, there was always Hinata. Maybe she would hear Shino’s doubts; she is just as perceptive and reflective, just as Shino is and -

“He’s right,” Hinata suddenly said, drawing Shino’s eyes towards her, slightly surprised at the firmness in her words and yet… even though his glasses are slightly tinted, he could see her eyes hesitantly wandering. “Even if we all work together...only one of us can pass.”

Shino was not expecting this, he expected her to think more into this, to doubt Kurenai’s words and to think things through…

And yet, Hinata followed Kiba’s direction towards the Training Ground, leaving Shino alone.

Well...that didn’t go as planned, Shino thought, staring off towards the direction of the training ground beyond the Hokage Rock, lost in the multiple feelings and thoughts that were swarming inside, his insects buzzing about.

Iruka-sensei said it himself - their team was picked in order to create the best team combination and they were handpicked by the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, himself. And yet, here Kurenai is, talking about how she was going to specifically choose one of them to continue on to being a Genin- while the rest of them are to be sent back to the Academy.

Shino shuddered at the thought of having to go back to those classrooms with their uncomfortable seats, the long desks forcing students to sit near each other, the constant smell of chalk roaming the air, and the lack of A/C and heater in each season and…

I can’t go back and take classes with children! Shino thought, and he bent down towards the flower petals. He needed to formulate his thoughts.

He knew something was wrong about these rules. There was a reason they were placed in a team. His own father, a Jonin at that, from what he had told Shino about his missions, he always led a group of ninjas on a mission. What benefit would there be to only accept one shinobi, unless the other two were incompetent, and while he doesn’t like to admit it, Kiba could be a useful asset to the Leaf’s forces if he wasn’t such a stubborn…person.

What was the point of saying that she would only accept one then? Are they actually being tested on their tracking skills? Or is there something underneath that… something underneath the deception. What if Kurenai was testing them, not on their tracking skills? Something else, what else…

What are the underpinnings of being a Leaf shinobi? What do they value the most in their Shinobi? They learned this before, in their Civics and History class, and he remembers the teacher going over the core values of the Shinobi of the Hidden Leaf Village.

Loyalty...an undying and unwavering loyalty to the Hidden Leaf.

Perseverance…to persevere and see through any situation in order to complete missions till the end for the benefit of the Leaf.

Courage...to face adversities and obstacles in one's way.

Teamwork…to work and strive for a common goal in order to benefit the Leaf.

Teamwork…collaboration was key. After all, it was how the Leaf village was founded and established, through the collaboration of the First Hokage's clan, from the Senju clan, with others, including his own clan. Working together in order to reach a final goal...that would be a logical aspect to test out. The Academy focused heavily on teaching individual skills, moulding students to perfection in order to become impeccable shinobi- hand-to-hand combat, kunai throwing, deciphering code, tracking, jutsus...all individual skills that they had learned by the end of their schooling journey. There were times they would have to work together on group projects, though, or work together in order to complete a task assigned to them.

Creating these teams in order to create the most optimal team combination...that’s what Iruka-sensei told him. There was a purpose of putting them together.

She’s purposefully trying to split us up, Shino thought. She wants to see if we will work together, despite the possibility of two of us being sent back to the Academy. To see past our own motivations for the main goal - to get the headband from her head.

“I have to find them,” Shino mumbled to himself, as he lifted an arm towards the pile of petals, feeling a prickling sensation against his skin, not necessarily painful, no, he had adjusted himself to the biting feeling as hundreds of cold, tiny feet crawl down along his arm. “There is something odd about these petals.”

They were cherry blossom petals, pink and small, and yet...they smelled like roses, those deep red flowers and fresh. The closer he got to the petals, the more pungent the rose smell became, nearly artificial in nature. Black dots started to fly out of his sleeves, his kikaichu, swarming towards the petals, the force making the petals fly up into the air in a frenzy.

“Well?” Shino asked, as a few of the bugs returned to him, swarming around his head, whispering in buzzes that only he understood.

There’s nothing there...There’s nothing there...

“This is one of her Genjutsus, then,” Shino muttered to himself, as he closed his eyes, focusing internally, deeper, beneath his nerves to his own chakra flow. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, the cool winter air swirling through his esophagus into his lungs, Shino focused on controlling his chakra flow, culminating it into one spot underneath his diaphragm, and he released a jolt of chakra.

Kai! The petals wavered for a moment, shifting between being and disappearing, until it dissipated into thin air, melding into the background.

That’s one thing out of the way, Shino thought, shifting his glance out towards the Training Grounds. However...There’s another issue.

How was Shino supposed to track Kurenai down if she didn’t leave a single trace behind? The flower petals, likely the only inkling of a clue about her whereabouts, was a genjutsu, an illusion, a figment of her own creation. The rose scent attached to it would have been used to track her down...however, the scent was also an illusion.

Kiba said she was in Training Ground 1, Shino thought as he looked beyond the edge of the Hokage Rock out to the huge plot of land with multiple clusters of trees scattered about, recreating the forests found outside the walls, with a stream travelling through. He had to have used that faux scent to identify her whereabouts...He was still under a Genjutsu. Hinata must be under the Genjutsu as well.

He knew that Genjutsu is not limited to creating a scenario - it can make a shinobi move through the physical world to someplace else. The illusion broke, however, neither of them were around Shino when he came into the physical world - meaning that they had left, likely towards the training grounds. Truly, Genjutsu was a difficult technique to master, and even more difficult to understand fully. And Kurenai, being a Jonin and a master of genjutsu clearly, will be a difficult opponent to face. If he ever wanted a chance to get near her headband, he needed to focus on his surroundings, tease out anything that was out of the ordinary, in order to ensure he was actually in the physical world rather than an illusion.

However, Shino had a trump card that would give him an advantage against Kurenai…

I need to find Kiba and Hinata before she finds them. Shino bounded off his feet and ran down the path towards the ground, shifting through the air until he entered the training ground. He didn’t want to try convincing Kiba - he knew Hinata would be easier to persuade and listen to his thoughts. Maybe she thought the same way as he did about the test. The Inuzuka was definitely a different story; he’s stubbornness knows no bounds.

Regardless, Shino knew this was the best chance they all had of potentially passing this test and not being sent back to another year at the Academy. He might have to be more conscious about his words, his tone maybe.

I have nothing to base their scent on, Shino thought as he ran through the grounds, between the trees hanging overhead. Once he reached a segment with less trees in between and more land, he stopped for a moment, looking around to ensure that he was alone. The grass was short and dry, as he expected for this weather, and nothing much else seemed out of the ordinary. However…

“Find Kiba and Hinata,” he muttered to the insects, the buzzing inside his body, intensifying at his command, seeping out of through the skin on his forearm and forming into a concentrated ball in front of him. “And report back to me once you find them.”

With that, the ball of dots dispersed into separate directions, the buzzing fading the further they got from Shino. Now, Shino could wait for a while in this area until his insects came back. He didn’t need a scent in order to scan the area; he can use his insects in order to retrieve information and formulate a plan of action from there. The only issue is that he is down half his workforce now; half the power he would normally have if he had all of his insects with him.

A gust of wind blew, shaking the tree branches against each other, the creaking of the main base of a few trees bending emitting around him. It was quiet...too quiet…

He suddenly heard a rustling sound to his left - unlike the rustling sound the leaves would make against the wind and one another, no, it sounded heavier...creaking downwards....and interrupted the flow of the sound in a way that you would have to pay close attention to notice. From his peripheral, he could see a light gleam of metal, and he stepped to the side on time, a whirring sound passing his ears in a blink of an eye, and a heavy thunk of metal hitting the dirt further from him drew his attention.

It was a kunai.

Shino whipped his head towards the direction the kunai came from, up above the ground towards a tree, a figure clothed in red fabric amongst the green leaves, and within the second, the figure jumped off the branch, landing gracefully. She pulled back her long, black hair behind her shoulders, piercing red eyes looking directly at Shino as she shook her head.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to figure out my Genjutsu so soon,” Kurenai said. “Your other teammates haven’t figured it out yet.”

“That’s because I’m better than them,” Shino replied, eyes never straying from her form. “Genjutsu may not be my forte, but I can still figure out when I’m in one.”

“So it seems,” Kurenai replied, eyes scanning over Shino’s form, before returning back to Shino’s face. “It would have to take a backseat for now. I hope you’re not going to spar with me like the other two; I know that Taijutsu is not your forte.”

“...It’s not,” Shino admitted, taking a stance. “However, that does not mean that I am incompetent in the form.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Kurenai said, as she shuffled forward towards Shino, Shino waiting for her first move. Kurenai threw a low kick towards his ankle, attempting to disable his stance, and Shino hopped to the side, pulling out his kunai.

As expected, she produced a kunai in her hand and jabbed it towards him, Shino bending his arm with the kunai to block the motion. The pushback forced both of them in opposite directions. They continued to spar, Shino noting a few things as they continued to spar, things he would keep in mind as long as he found Kurenai.

If the opportunity arises, I will attempt to get her headband, Shino thought as he dodged Kurenai’s splice, back bending backwards as he stepped back. However, I need to be wary of any signs of her using a Genjutsu. If this gets too hard, I’ll exit the battle and try to find the other two as soon as I can.

With another jab of the kunai, Shino did a twist of his wrist, disarming Kurenai of her kunai, the metal flying up and behind her, too far for her to reach.

Now! Shino reached over towards the back of her head, the kunai ready to splice the fabric of her headband off.

Unexpectedly, Kurenai's hand jabbed into Shino's stomach, a loud thump from hitting his lower organs in, receiving a strangled gasp from the young boy. For a fraction of a second, Shino froze midair, the impact of the punch making him float slightly. Suddenly, a loud chattering noise, high pitched and squelching, started to form, the tip of his hair started to fizzle into black dots, piling on top of each other and cascading as the fizzle continued downwards.

Kurenai let out a sound of disbelief, as she shuffled back, away from the black dots.

“I see…” Kurenai said, her lips contorting downwards, though she fixed it back into a neutral line immediately. “A substitution jutsu with insects...how peculiar.”

Shino jumped from behind a bush nearby, throwing a few shurikens towards Kurenai, spinning towards her from different directions. She produced a new kunai from her thigh pocket, deflecting all the shurikens, the stars rocketing off towards different directions.

Kurenai started to form a few hand signs, the pattern unfamiliar to Shino. Dog...Bird...Monkey...Ox...and finally Tiger. Is she going to release a fire style jutsu? Or is this one of her genjutsus...

“Your genjutsu has no effect on my insects,” Shino stated matter of factly. “The kikaichu didn’t even notice the petals when I saw them...which could only indicate that they weren’t real to begin with. I managed to get out of that genjutsu of yours - and I will get out of any genjutsu you throw my way.”

“That’s true,” Kurenai agreed, a tad bit too calm for Shino’s liking. “But that doesn’t mean that you’re not immune.”

With that, he heard a slight whisper from her mouth. “Demon Illusion: Tree Bind Death”

Before Shino could blink, he felt something hard behind him, a crunching sound of wood sliding against each other could be heard. He immediately glanced back, about to spin on his heels to step away, but he was too late- a thick vine sprouted from the side and wrapped around his waist as more vines from both sides wrapped his chest, his shoulders, his thighs. Out of pure reaction, he tried to pull his arms out, pushing against the vines, shifting around slightly as he tried to free himself before even more vines could cover him.

“Geh,” Shino grunted as the vines tightened with his resistance, snapping his back against the trunk of the tree. A sudden coldness lined against his neck, metal in nature, along the side where his carotid artery laid. He stopped moving, his breathing becoming shallow as he glanced to his peripherals, the hilt of the kunai gleaming, a pale hand tightened around with her sharp, red nails.

“I knew you have quite the advantage compared to the other two,” he heard Kurenai’s voice said smoothly right beside his ear, making the hairs in the nape of his neck rise as goosebumps started to from along his arm, the realisation of how close she was and how close the kunai, a real, sharp, kunai was pressing against his neck. Her black locks hung over his shoulder, he could feel the weight of it, some free strands tickling the skin on his jaw and cheek, making him almost have a shaky breath. Her voice was silky smooth, “Insects are not affected by Genjutsu because they lack a central nervous system. As long as you ensnare the user, however, the insects are useless. I guess it’s true, then - a tool is only as good as it’s user.”

Shino kept his mouth closed into a thin line, his throat running dry, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. How could he let himself get trapped so easily like this?

“If you were my enemy, I would have cut your head off clean,” Kurenai hummed, a coldness to her tone, cold and distant, that almost made Shino believe that she would not hesitate to kill him in that instant. She continued, now in a warmer voice, “But for now, I will leave you here. Let’s see if you can figure a way out of this genjutsu.”

A low squelching sound emitted, the kunai dragged slowly along the side of his neck, retracting until Shino could feel the tip of the kunai slide off, allowing him to fully exhale and let his neck expand.

With a ghost of a smile over her lips, Kurenai’s body merged to the background, swirling and shifting into pink blossoms, until she completely disappeared from Shino’s peripheral sight, leaving nothing behind.

---

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

“Helloooooo! Shinoooo!! Wake up!!!”

“K-Kiba, please be gentle,” Hinata hesitantly said, worryingly looking between the sleeping figure of Shino in front of her and Kiba snapping his fingers close to his ears, the sharp sound making Hinata cringe. “You have to gently wake someone up from a genjutsu-”

“We don’t have time to be gentle, Hinata!” Kiba exclaimed, his scowl growing deeper at Shino’s unresponsive form. “We used Kai, he should wake up right away! Yo! Shino!" SNAP! SNAP! "Up! Now! Before I get Akamaru to bite ya!”

“Arf! Arf!” Akamaru barked beside Shino, tail wagging enthusiastically, ready to pounce.

“Kiba!” Hinata exclaimed in a whisper, and suddenly, they heard a low mumble, Shino stirring a bit as he...well, Hinata assumed he was opening his eyes, she still can’t see because of his glasses. It was

“So...loud…” Shino managed to groan out, his throat dry and making his voice crack. There was a slight pause as Shino sat up slowly, his back immediately straight, his eyes looking straight ahead rather than up towards either of them.

“Finally you’re awake!” Kiba drawled out, standing up as he lent out his hand towards Shino. “How long have you been sleeping here?”

“How long have I been here?” Shino said as he stood up, ignoring Kiba’s hand. Hinata could see Kiba grimacing intensifying, eyes glowering, but he didn’t say anything. Shino then shifted his head up towards the sky, the sun much higher in the sky - nearing the cusp of noon. “Too long, it would seem…”

“I’d say we’re about three hours into the exam,” Kiba said, hands on his hips, glancing up at the sun and back to Shino. “I’m guessing you’ve been here for about more than an hour. At least...that’s what the burn on your face is telling me.”

Indeed, Hinata now noted that Shino’s face, the parts he left exposed, had been reddened from lying underneath the sun, making him look less sunkissed and more...sunburned. Even if it were winter in Konoha, the sun was out and brimming outside, and the trees around Shino didn’t help angle the sun away. Hinata found it funny to look at - the bridge of his nose is a light red, and his cheeks were a rosy as well. And with the way Shino’s eyebrows naturally angled down, as if in a permanent scowl, he looked...funny.

Shino didn’t move at his comment, ignoring it, likely, and he continued, “When did you two find each other?”

“I found Hinata right after I fought Kurenai,” Kiba replied, glancing over to Hinata. “I’d say about...an hour ago?”

Hinata nodded along, before speaking, “We’ve been looking for you ever since.”

She had fallen into a calming slumber, her body floating in a darkness that was warm and comforting. It’s been a while since her body felt this relaxed, the aching from training so hard the past few weeks up until their graduation exam seemed to seep out from her muscles. Time didn’t exist in this illusionary world- not that Hinata minded all that much, she was so happy in that moment that her mind had wandered away from the goal of this test.

Hinata might have stayed there for much longer, if it weren’t for Kiba and Akamaru; he had used Kai to bring her back to the material world. She was slightly terrified to see his face hovering over her, piercing eyes watching her, with Akamaru staring down at her with his tongue out. It was...unexpected, to say the least.

What was even more unexpected was when Kiba, after making sure Hinata was not extremely injured and asked her how her battle was (which Hinata gave sparing details about, because really, how interesting was her fighting skills for her to tell a whole tale), suggested they teamed up together.

“The more I think about it, the more I’m thinking about what Shino said,” Kiba had said, a bit hesitant, as if he didn’t want to admit what he felt. “I... didn’t think it would be this hard to go up against her, I’m not gonna lie.”

It was the first time Hinata had ever been alone with Kiba her entire life, having avoided being in a classroom with him if he was the only one sitting at the table. His voice was...much calmer than she expected it to be, just as soft as he spoke to her before.

“I was...thinking that too,” Hinata admitted, cautious with her words. “We were put into a group together for a reason...I don’t know why, but it appears the Academy would want us to stay together.”

An Aburame, an Inuzuka, and a Hyuuga...according to Kayake, this group formation had happened before, and maybe even before that. A formation that must have worked out perfectly whenever the graduating class had members from each of these clans. And...Iruka had said that they considered all of their skills, all of their abilities up until this point in order to match them together. The group formation was important, they were all taught that at school, a four-man squad was the most basic form- and Kurenai wanted them to do it individually, saying she will only pick one.

Or did she really? A shinobi uses deception to their advantage...and they have to see through deception as well.

“This isn’t the Academy anymore,” Kiba replied. “But...you’re onto something. I’m suspicious about her so-called rules... What kind of rules are there in the real world, right?”

“Right…” Hinata simply agreed. There’s always the law, of course, but who knows how Kiba would react to Hinata correcting him- he already gets annoyed when Shino does it. She wanted to ask Kiba if he wanted to team up...if they should get Shino too...but what if Kiba didn’t want to do that? Hinata personally though it would be good to talk about this with Shino- Shino was insightful, probably noticing something she couldn’t even notice, and if they were to team up, it would be better -

“...I’m thinking that we will find Shino too, and figure something out,” Kiba finally said, as if reading her mind. With a quirk of his lips into a grin, he then said, “How bout it?”

“I assume...we all fell into her genjutsus,” Shino suddenly said, monotonously. Kiba looked away now, Hinata could see that his face now twisted in embarrassment.

“Yea...I did...at least…” Hinata mumbled, also embarrassed, but at least she knew she wasn’t the only one from the silence that fell over them. Hinata between them, waiting for Kiba to say something, but his mouth didn’t move, nor did his eyes return towards their direction, looking at the ground. Shino, on the other hand, well..Hinata didn’t know where he was looking or what he was thinking.

“Arf! Arf!” Akamaru’s loud barking broke the silence, and Hinata heard Kiba scoff.

“What, alright! You don’t need to tell me twice!” Kiba said, and again, just as Hinata was before, she was amazed that Kiba was responding to his dog, speaking as if he understood.

“Do you...understand what he’s saying?” Hinata spoke up, seeing an opportunity to generate a conversation between them, to get to the point, but she tapered, now embarrassed of asking. Yes, of course he does understand the dog, why else would Kiba respond?

“Yeah, we learn that growing up,” Kiba said, not bothered by her response, his face no longer nervous as prior but rather a bit calm, giving Akamaru a head pat. “It comes in handy when he’s telling me something and nobody else understands.”

“What did he...just say?”

“He just told me...to ask you guys if…” Kiba’s voice trailed off for a moment, abruptly stopping. Then he continued, a bit confidently now, “You guys want to team up to get that headband.”

“Team...up…” Hinata mumbled to herself, and Kiba nodded.

“I mean, we all think her rules are trash- they don’t make sense at all. We all went against her, and we got our asses handed to us,” Kiba continued. “I hate to admit it, but it’s near impossible to get near her close enough to get the headband.”

“...Technically, we could get away from teaming up,” Shino suddenly said, smoothly, drawing both their attention now. He paused for a moment… and then he continued. “Kurenai-sensei only said that the goal of the test is to get the headband off of her forehead. She never said the goal was to get the headband independently.”

“Did she?” Kiba asked. “Same difference, though.”

“Not necessarily,” Shino replied courtly. “If she wanted us to get the headband independently, she would have said so. However...she didn’t. She went out of her way to talk about all these rules on the side - however, the main goal is to get the headband from her head. Whoever ends up holding it, though…”

There was another silence, Hinata glancing at her hands. What should they do? What should she do? Shino isn’t wrong- what he’s saying does make sense, to an extent. A shinobi must look through everything and find the truth…

“To be frank with both of you, I believe she is intentionally forcing us to work against each other instead of with each other,” Shino suddenly said. “I suspect that she’s not necessarily testing out our tracking skill but...how we work together as a team. By making us think that we had to do it independently, by saying she would only pass one person...she wanted to cause discord between us, interfering with the goal of the test and causing us to waste time.”

Another silence fell over them.

“...I…”

Hinata was surprised to hear herself speak, but she knew that she had to say something. They didn’t have time to waste...and besides…

“I think...you might be right...I think that...there is a reason for us to be together, and...testing our teamwork to see if we could work well together...would make sense, especially since we would be working together on the field,” Hinata added, glancing away, not meaning to say this much, but she hoped that she got her words across.

“...Kiba.” Shino said, and Kiba stared at them in silence for a moment.

“...What do we have to lose?” Kiba hummed, a smirk growing on his face. “It’s worth a shot. Standing around here isn’t going to help us. Doing it alone didn’t get us anywhere. I can believe that a master of illusions would try to pull something like that on us to see what we would do.”

“So, we’re in agreement; we team up and get the headband together, correct?” Shino said, a pause, as he waited for their response. Kiba glanced over at Hinata, and nodded. Hinata did as well. Shino continued, “We do not have much time...we will have to find a way to find her and we need to come up with a strategy.”

“Kiba,” Shino continued, head never facing him. “You said that your clan’s technique enables you to track people, correct? Do you or your…” He paused for a split moment, Hinata could hear his next word starting with a ‘d’, but he stopped himself. “Akamaru...has her scent? It would make it easier for us to find her.”

Kiba seemed to have hesitated slightly at his question, staring at him for a moment. Hinata was surprised too that Shino would bring up what he had said yesterday, much less, remember what Kiba had said to begin with; though, Shino’s memory is quite sharp, from what he remembered of him, very clear cut about details and memorized passages easily that Hinata fumbled over.

“I thought I did...but it was a fake,” Kiba grumbled, looking away from his two teammates while rubbing the tip of his nose slightly, unconsciously, perhaps, while pursing his lips in a pout. Childish, for sure, but it helped Hinata feel less intimidated by Kiba. “And even if I manage to get close enough to catch her scent, who’s to say that it’s how she actually smells? She can easily use a Genjutsu and create a new scent to throw me off course.”

“That would be bad for all of us, yes,” Shino said evenly. Hinata could tell by the slight shift of his face towards her direction, he was either looking at her or going to direct his question to her. Or both, perhaps. “What about you Hinata? Kiba has scent, but what do you have?”

“I...I,” Hinata muttered, trying to mentally shuffle through the various pieces of information that was thrown at her. “W-Well, do you know what the Hyuuga..Hyuuga clan’s...hidden secret....”

“Heard ‘bout it,” Kiba said, an eyebrow pulling down, eyes piercing her. “Course, they don’t teach that shit in class. You noble clans always like to keep things under wraps.”

“We have to keep it a secret,” Shino replied before Hinata could respond. “Our clan’s abilities are unique and you wouldn’t find it outside of Konoha. Imagine word got out about it and the information falls in the wrong hands-"

"Are ya saying my clan's abilities aren't special?” Kiba grunted sharply, eyes squinting at Shino, who barely flinched.

"No, I'm not saying that at all," Shino said just as quickly as Kiba interrupted, never raising his voice. "But our clan's abilities...are heavily tied to inheritance or are procured from birth. Anyone has the chance of being an Inuzuka if they weren't born as one."

"Sure, but they'll have to compensate a lot more than those who inherit our sensitive noses and ears.”

“And your big mouth,” Hinata heard Shino mumble into his coat, and she could see Kiba - did his ears just perk up? - as he stood up, trying to size himself up against Shino’s taller stature.

“What was that?”

“My clan’s secret ability is our dojutsu,” Hinata interjected, capturing both their attention before they could start another argument. She continued, a bit cautiously, trying to think of a way to explain it without giving too much detail - after all, the true abilities of the Byakugan has made it prime target number one for those who seek to destroy the Hyuuga line (though, truly, she doubts that either of them would want to destroy the Hyuuga line, however, she must uphold her clan’s secrets, nevertheless). “The Byakugan. Our clan’s kekkei genkai allows us to use an ability called the Byakugan. It...lets you see past the skin, through the muscles, and see the chakra networks and reserves inside a living being.”

Kiba and Shino stared silently at her after her explanation, and Hinata didn’t know what either of them were thinking, and her nervousness grew into dread. What did they think of her now? Did they think that she was...some sort of creep?

“What’s a kekkei genkai?” Kiba suddenly asked, his face twisting into confusion.

“It’s-” she started, but Shino intervened, his sharp eyebrows angelling deeper.

“Don’t you pay attention in class?” Shino asked courtly. “A kekkei genkai is a type of genetic code in your DNA that enables someone to possess unique techniques. Each kekkei genkai has their own unique code, and can only be passed on through blood. This genotype can manifest into a specific phenotype.”

“What the hell is a phenotype?” Kiba asked, sounding and looking even more confused than before, and Hinata knew that Shino’s explanation was overwhelming him with the extra information he specified. Shino was also emitting an energy that Hinata knew his patience was running thin, though he didn’t show it on his face nor his movement.

“It’s a physical trait,” Hinata stepped in, thinking of the simplest way to explain it. “Like, how my kekkei genkai gives me white eyes.”

Kiba nodded along, his face less contorted in confusion.

“So basically,” Kiba started, slowly, as if finally digesting what she had said and learning something new. “You’re saying that you got X-Ray vision, right? And you can see through clothes and objects and you can see...everything...”

“...Yes, pretty much,” Hinata said, slightly relieved.

Suddenly, she could see a realization dawning over Kiba, his eyes widening and he quickly put a hand over his chest, as if covering it and his hand reached down- oh my god.

“I’m not using it now!” Hinata squeaked out, using all of her voice power to exclaim, feeling a rush of blood and heat to her face, her cheeks turning red in what was embarrassment. She covered her eyes right away, even though she didn’t do anything wrong.

“I’m just joking!” Kiba exclaimed, taken by surprise by her, his face turning a deeper shade against his tanned skin.

“Do you really think that Hinata would do something so low?” Shino suddenly asked, almost ominously, and Kiba shook his head quickly.

“No! No, obviously not!” Kiba replied, slightly grinning. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe she’s the type-”

“You think I would do that?” Hinata asked suddenly, genuinely, her eyebrows pulled in deeper, and she could feel a different type of nervousness over being perceived as...well...a pervert.

“I didn’t think you would take it seriously,” Kiba suddenly said, her voice a bit softer and looking...a bit concerned, maybe her face gave away how taken aback she was by his comment.

“I-....I…” Hinata was at a loss of words. Was he...teasing her?

She had never had this kind of interaction in her life, never being accused of any of this sort of thing, and of course, when she did have a conversation with someone, they were typically polite and formal. Her family, her classmates...she didn’t have friends, no. She’s never been...teased before this way, or teased at all. Nobody jokes around with her, she was an observer to others, and everything that was said towards her was, well...just factual observations, she supposed.

“I was just kidding,” Kiba said, slightly bowing his head, apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t think you would take that seriously. Sorry about that-”

“It’s fine,” Hinata said quickly, and really, she meant it. Even though, the implication that Hinata Hyuuga, daughter of the great and noble Hiashi, was some sort of pervert would tarnish her honour and dignity that her elders would have berated Kiba for sure if they had heard. She actually felt...a sort of link now to Kiba, if he was able to make a joke like this to her, right? Before he only acknowledged her and spoke distantly, politely...she kind of liked that he teased her like this.“I thought you actually meant it.”

“You’ll know when I mean something,” Kiba replied. “Trust me, I’m not the type to lie to your face.”

At least he admits it himself, as Hinata had already thought of him that way to begin with.

“So...Hinata has her eyes...and you have your scent,” Shino muttered to himself. “I...also have a scent as well. And a bit more.”

“With your bugs?” Kiba asked, genuinely, Hinata supposed, compared to the previous day when he was sarcastically speaking to him.

“Yes...They are a type of insect called the kikaichu,” Shino said, lifting up a hand towards them. Hinata leaned over, watching as Shino slowly and gently opened his hand. She had to root herself to the ground, conscious not to flinch back in fright from the small insect on his hand. “The female kikaichu releases a pheromone that the male kikaichu is coded to follow. No matter where I leave a female, the male will follow at my command- and so, if I have a target I want to find, I just have to leave the female insect on them. It would just require me to get close to our target...so in this case...that would be Kurenai-sensei.”

“Really…” Hinata said, slightly more interested after he explained the Beatles abilities, watching as the bug crawled around the palm of his hand.

“So, where do you keep your insects? Your pockets?” Kiba asked, jesting from his smile, and Hinata could see Shino’s face remaining the same neutral expression he always had.

“...We do not have time for me to explain it fully,” Shino replied after a moment, bringing down the joke, immediately putting his hand back in his pocket. “What are her weaknesses? Let’s come up with things we noticed from each of our fights with her.”

“Definitely her hand-to-hand combat,” Kiba said immediately. “If you can even call it that. She mostly avoids your moves and circles around you, blocking here and there.”

“I noticed that too,” Hinata chimed in. “But where she lacks physical attacks, she compensates by using your weight against you...She’s looking at dismantling your stance and pushes you to use your stamina.”

“Yeah, right?” Kiba agreed. “But I don’t think she’s good at accepting punches. And she’s not that strong- but she uses her nails to hurt you, and that shit hurts! She caught my hand earlier! See!”

Kiba lifted his hand, showing off the scars from his battle with Kurenai; the bleeding must have stopped and a scab was forming over the marks.

“Her punches aren’t that powerful to make you take a step back,” Shino replied. “I don’t think she’s the type to attack willingly.”

“W-Well...When I was fighting her, she used her clones first to attack,” Hinata replied, reflecting back to her fight- the way the first few Kurenais that attacked her were all clones that puffed into smoke. “Then, there’s her genjutsus…”

“Man, we all fought her, but we didn’t learn anything about her weaknesses,” Kiba moaned. “We have more disadvantages than advantages.”

“We have another disadvantage too.” Shino continued. “Say we manage to evade all of her genjutsus. There is the possibility that she might try to mess with us by using a Transformation Jutsu on herself.”

“...There’s also...Wait...Do you think...that she can also transform her clones?” Hinata asked timidly .

“...Yes, that could be a possibility,” Shino noted while Kiba let out an exasperated sigh. “It sounds complicated for us, but for a Jonin...it would be easier to do these things, especially with her experience. Therefore… there has to be a way for us to identify each other.”

“Would...a password work?” Hinata attempted to suggest, wanting to contribute to the conversation. In the corner of her eye, she could see Kiba crossing over his arms, glancing to the ground, thinking.

“That would only be efficient if we were planning to meet at a hide out or a meet up point outside of the battle,” Shino replied courtly. “In the middle of the battlefield...that would be harder to do. We need something that would be consistent and can be used as a quick identifier.”

“...There is always a scent,” Kiba suddenly spoke up, drawing both their attention towards him. His glance became wavered, looking between them rather than at them, and she could see the tips of his ears reddening suddenly. “Everyone has a unique scent; no two people have the same scent and there’s no way to replicate someone’s scent. It might change over time, but there’s always something unique to the person.”

“Our scent…” Hinata curiously repeated, interested in what he had to say next.

“You said you had a sense of smell,” Shino said evenly. “You can tell who’s who just by a scent?”

“Well yeah; I wasn’t lying when I said I had one,” Kiba replied, instinctively rubbing the tip of his nose for a split second. “It’s the safest way to know who’s who. Especially with Kurenai; she might try to make an illusion or use her clones to transform into any of us. I just…”

He suddenly became a bit quieter than before (it was still too loud for Hinata, but for Kiba, it’s probaby the quietest he has ever spoken), glancing away, before saying, “I just have to...smellyouforamoment.”

“What?” Hinata said, Kiba suddenly mumbling at the last part, to the point even Hinata couldn’t catch it.

“I said I ...havetosmellyouforamoment.”

“I know you can speak louder than this,” Shino interrupted promptly, his directness taking even Kiba back it seemed. “We do not have much time left...we need to make use of any advantage we have against Kurenai.”

Hinata felt an odd silence from Kiba for a moment, his glance still wandering as he grimaced, the blush from his ears never leaving. What was he so nervous about?

“I have to smell you for a moment,” Kiba finally exhaled, never making eye contact with them. Hinata didn’t know what to say, not really understanding what to make from his statement, and she glanced over to Shino for some sort of form of confirmation. However, Shino...actually nodded to this?

“It makes sense,” Shino replied. “We never were close during the Academy for you to be overly familiar with us in that aspect. You just need our jackets, right? That should suffice.”

“That...would be okay but I wouldn’t have all the details,” Kiba said, now crossing his arms in front of his chest, looking at Shino. “I need to...actually smell you.”

“Oh,” Shino replied.

‘Oh’ is right, Hinata thought, not knowing what to say, now feeling slightly nervous. When was the last time someone was that close to her? What did she even smell like to begin with? She was running around and rolling across the ground - she doubts she smells good, she was covered in dirt and sweat, and the jacket she was wearing hasn’t been washed yet, today was laundry day so-

“I won’t be long, I’m just going to be in your personal bubble for a moment,” Kiba said quickly, interrupting Hinata’s internal spiral. “Just from your elbows up.”

“...Since this is the only way to give us an advantage against Kurenai, then that’s fine,” Shino said suddenly, almost forcefully, and Hinata could feel his gaze towards her. “Well, Hinata?”

“I…” Hinata hesitated for a second, the nervousness of someone being so close, closer than her own parents had ever been with her, made her perspire even more than before. She glanced up towards the sky- the sun was slowly creeping forward in the sky, and every second they spend standing here is another second they can’t get back. If Kiba’s right, they only really had less than two hours left for this test.

I can’t hold them back, Hinata thought, determination seeping into her. It’s only for a moment. Don’t get too nervous, Hinata…

“Yes, that’s fine,” Hinata managed to say in an even tone, looking at Kiba. He looked more hesitant than Hinata was at that moment - nervousness tends to breed more nervousness, but it comforted her slightly that he was also uncomfortable, not wanting to invade her space.

"Just tell me if you don't feel comfortable, okay?" Kiba mumbled as he stepped towards her, directly in front of her, and Hinata rooted herself to the ground, trying not to subconsciously step back. She has never been this close to Kiba, and suddenly she noticed how much taller he was compared to her. "If you're too anxious, it might affect your regular scent."

"Oh, oh..'kay," Hinata said, glancing away, and Kiba held onto her left arm, gently, gentler than she expected him to. She caught a glimpse of his nails, sharper and longer than how boys usually kept their nails, chipping evident on some of his fingers.

He leaned over towards her arm, inhaling softly a few times, before going up to her shoulder, nearly touching the fabrig. Then he made his way to the back of her head, almost near the base of her neck but not quite.

Hinata felt red creep across her face, the intimacy a bit too much for her, but she held still, his hand never straying from her arm and his nose never touching her skin. Calm down Hinata...don’t get nervous...calm down… She could hear him mutter to himself, his voice low, and she could only pick up a few words. “Chamomile...soft yarn…”

“Alright,” Kiba said, immediately letting go and taking a step away from Hinata, further than he stood before. “Akamaru, make sure you memorize Hinata’s scent too.”

Akamaru barked in confirmation, and came up towards Hinata sniffing around her ankles. Hinata bent to the ground and held her hand out towards Akamaru, who nuzzled his nose against her palm. To this, Hinata felt herself swooning, and she let Akamaru use her knees as leverage to go up to her face, little sniffs here and there.

She glanced over towards Shino, who stood as straight as a plank, Kiba walked up to him, his face a bit harder compared to how he looked towards Hinata.

Shino raised a hand towards his face, palm up, and Kiba’s face contorted in offense at this gesture. “What, do you think I’m a dog?”

“Oh,” Shino replied evenly (maybe even...disappointingly?) and he immediately put his hand back in his pocket. “Do you have to come close to me?”

“You can, but...it’s harder to make it stick in me, you know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s just a few seconds, then I’m never gonna be this close to you again,” Kiba grumbled as he leaned forward, his nose levitating close along Shino’s shoulder. Hinata could see Shino’s shoulders tense upwards suddenly at Kiba’s gesture, but he didn’t move away. Kiba followed a similar path as he did with Hinata, taking his time, but was conscious to keep a distance when Shino would become rigid here and there.

“Alright, I got it,” Kiba said aloud, stepping away from Shino as well. Shino’s form stayed still despite the distance between himself and Kiba, and Hinata couldn’t see his face, covered by his jacket and sunglasses. “I think we have everything we need to go into battle. Now we need to find her. How do we do that?”

“...Well,” Hinata spoke up. “She did say that she will only be at the Hokage Rock and training grounds. The Hokage Rock is the closest to this training ground...should we...or would that be a waste of time…”

“That’s our best bet of finding a lead,” Kiba agreed. “She left her clock there too- that might have been a physical clock. Maybe, there could be a trace of her from there.”

“In the case we encounter her on the way, we should formulate a strategy right now,” Shino replied. “Considering all of your abilities, we should-”

“Hey, wait, who made you the boss?” Kiba interjected suddenly, eyebrows furrowing in. Now Shino’s head turned directly at him, the light from the sun making his sunglasses gleam sharply.

“We do not have time to decide on a leader, nor do we have time to argue over who should lead,” Shino replied sharply, immediately shutting Kiba down, who zipped his lips and didn’t say anything more. “Besides...I have a strategy that would accommodate everyone…”

---

They made their way onto the Hokage Rock, the sun shining brightly in the sky, illuminated the entire space in a way the morning sun didn’t. They had snuck around between bushes and trees on the landscape, making their way to the spot where the clock sat, ticking away every minute and...they were watching Kurenai at the picnic table where they were at the beginning, taking a bottle from a brown paper bag and...was that a wine glass?

"She was serious about drinking," Kiba muttered, peering through the leaves of the bush they hid behind, after she poured red liquid from the bottle into the glass, filling it. "Where did she even get that glass?"

"Maybe she keeps one in her bag?" Hinata replied, and Kiba shook his head.

"Wouldn't that get crushed?" 

“Well, maybe it’s sili-”

"Does it look like she cares about whether her glass gets crushed?" Shino asked, pausing for a second, and just as Kiba inhaled to reply, he continued, "No, she doesn't care."

"Yeah, clearly," Kiba said sarcastically. "And she  clearly  took a quick trip to a store, so she lied about finding her outside of the Rock and Training Grounds."

"I think she knew we'd be confused and stay in the training grounds for a while," Hinata added. 

"That, and she's a liar," Kiba grumbled.

"A liar and an alcoholic," Shino added as the Inuzuka hummed in agreement.

"T-that's kind of mean," Hinata said. 

"Fine, I detract from the liar part," Kiba said. "I-"

"It's retract," Shino quickly interrupted him abruptly, with Kiba giving him a quick scowl.

" Retract  the liar part," Kiba corrected himself. "I-"

"No, I think detract is the right word," Hinata unintentionally interrupted in a hushed tone, mostly talking to herself, not heeding Kiba’s words. She glanced towards Shino, who maintained his gaze towards Kurenai. "It means to pull back right?"

"Yes, but it specifically means to take away," Shino explained. "For example, I would say ‘I detract money from the bank’. Retract means to ‘draw back’ so it would be ‘I retracted my hand’ or -”

"Are we in a Language Class right now?" Kiba snapped. "Detract, retract,  whatever . She's pretty much an alcoholic-"

"That's a  really  heavy label to put on someone," Hinata mumbled to herself, hoping that they didn’t really hear what she had to say, but Shino was immediately on top of what she had said.

"Do you know what kind of people drink in the middle of the day, Hinata?" Shino asked, never straying his gaze away from Kurenai. Hinata didn’t bother answering during the slight pause, waiting for Shino to continue- and he did. "People with depression and alcoholics. And there is a  very thin line between the two."

“She doesn’t look like she’s depressed,” Kiba pressed, gesturing towards Kurenai as she finished off the rest of her wine with a satisfied sigh. “Look at her. She's having the time of her life."

“There’s more to a person than what meets the eye.”

“Alright, alright, enough with the philosophy talk-”

“Psychology.”

“Whatever!" Kiba snapped a bit too loudly, his voice cracking, causing Kurenai to twist her head instantly towards the direction of where they laid. Luckily, Shino had clamped a hand over Kiba's mouth and pushed them both down closer to the floor, Hinata already crouching to the ground at the same time.

"Be quiet!" Shino hissed to Kiba, his eyebrows furrowing deeper, his glasses slipping down his nose from the sudden action. His slipping glasses were close to revealing his eyes, but he managed to hold onto them with the tip of his free index finger. 

This was the first time that Hinata saw Shino like this, so direct and demanding. Usually in class he would just say what he had to say and go on with life - not arguing back necessarily, but simply giving his two cents, regardless of whether the other students were yelling or berating him. And usually, she had seen, whenever someone tried to give him a high five or come near him, he would shrink away. Kiba has found a way to push his buttons in a completely different manner, revealing a new side of the Aburame.

“I know you’re there,” Kurenai suddenly called out from her spot at the picnic table, nearly making Hinata squeak out a yelp in surprise. 

They glanced at each other, Hinata hesitating to make a move, before Kiba and Shino reluctantly stood up without another word, Hinata following them as they walked away from the bush onto the clearing. 

“The element of surprise is clearly not on your side,” Kurenai noted, borderline amusement in her voice, as she folded the brown paper bag, putting it to the side. She stood up slowly, walking towards them, stopping a good few meters away. “You should all work on that.”

“We don’t need the element of surprise,” Kiba yelled back, nearly barking out his words as Hinata stood by, and she was taken aback from how sharp he sounded, especially towards someone much older and much more experienced. To this, Hinata noted that one of Kurenai’s eyebrows was raised. 

"We? So you all decided to team up?" Kurenai asked as the realisation dawned on her. "Do you remember what I said at the beginning of this test? There's only one headband."

"Yeah, we know," Kiba replied before either Shino or Hinata were capable of saying anything. "But we don't care about that! As long as we get that stupid headband off your head, that’s all the matters. You can throw anything at us and we’ll throw it right back!"

“Kiba…” Hinata could see Kurenai silently repeat the word ‘stupid?’ to herself, seeming slightly at disbelief with the Inuzuka's choice of words.

“That’s only if you get my headband,” Kurenai replied, glancing between them. What was going to be her next move? “You have only seen a fraction of my genjutsu abilities. Manipulating what would be there in the real world. However...what would you do if you weren’t in the real world?”

Hinata watched as Kurenai started to form a sequence of hand signs, triggering them all to take a stance, holding a kunai in her hand as Shino and Kiba held onto nothing. This is it. No going back for any of them.

I won’t be a burden,  Hinata repeated to herself as she looked around the parameters, for anything out of the ordinary, before returning to Kurenai.

 Behind Kurenai, there were shots of darkness stretching out, enveloping the background, covering the sky’s blue into black, the sun disappearing from their sight. Kurenai slowly stepped back into the blackness, her legs disappearing first and slowly, her torso and then her head, her black hair flowing gently before she fully disappeared. 

“What the hell,” Kiba grumbled, as Akamaru let out a bark, his little legs readying itself to pounce at his command.  

“Keep your guard up,” Shino said, as Hinata started to glance around, looking for anything that would indicate an attack. She saw from the corner of her eyes that Shino pulled out a few shurikens, and threw it in multiple directions towards the darkness. The spinning sound of the shurikens grew more and more distant. 

“Arf!”

“Yeah...the shurikens are still going,” Kiba said. “I didn’t hear them land on anything.”

Suddenly, the ground underneath them started to shake, and pieces of the ground as far as their naked eye could see started to break apart and fall into...nothing. It was black, a neverending pitch black pit, and the longer they stared, the faster the pieces of the land broke apart and fell. Hinata looked around, and the pieces that fell were encircling them from all directions, with nowhere to move except in towards one another.

“H-Hey! Where’d the ground go?” Kiba yelled as he picked up Akamaru from the ground, placing him immediately on his head, watching with wide eyes. With his panicked words, the pieces became larger, and within a few seconds, they were on an island of their own, forcing them to take a few steps back.

“Kiba, you have to calm down!” Shino commanded, taking another step back as a piece of land fell from his feet, nearly touching Hinata’s back. “This isn’t real. None of this is.”

“Real convincing when the  floor  is collapsing underneath our- AH!” A piece of earth fell into the blackness, Kiba stepping back against Shino, staggering on one leg now, his arms waving about as he tried to maintain his balance. Shino grabbed onto one of Kiba’s arms, the veins of his arm popping out as he held on to Kiba’s figure for dear life. 

Hinata knew what she had to do; the only other way to get out of a genjutsu was to find the exit. And the best way to do that is...

“Byakugan!” 

The clarity and sharpness of the world increased exponentially, her eyes tracing at all the details her eyes could see, all the outlines through the darkness that consumed them, and from the corner of her eyes she saw…

A light, a small tiny light from the physical world, peering through the screen.

“Follow me,” Hinata spoke up quickly, taking a deep breath in order to calm her nerves as she took a step forward, before Kiba held on to her arm quickly, tightly.

“Hinata wait!” Kiba exclaimed, alarmed at her motion, holding her back to the ground, however, Shino on the other hand, noticed her glance, and started to walk towards the light.

“Shino-”

“It’s okay, Kiba,” Hinata said softly, mostly to keep herself calm rather than them, as they watched Shino walk over the darkness, never falling through, as if floating on air. “It’s not real.”

Once Shino reached the light, she could hear a sudden sound of high-pitched chattering coming from Shino, squeaking as she saw movement surrounding him, before heading towards the light, covering it. Suddenly, the blackness started to fade away, blue and green seeping through as the darkness melded into itself, disappearing to reveal the Hokage Rock they were standing on before. Hinata could feel her eyes relax as she undid the Byakugan, her eyesight returning to normal, as Kiba let go of her arm quickly, looking around.

“Did you...use that Bakugan, or something to find that?” Kiba asked Hinata, wide eyes watching as the illusion dissipated. 

“Byakugan, yes,” Hinata said, smiling to herself at his words of astoundment.

“Good eye,” they heard Kurenai’s voice further away from where they stood, and Hinata found her standing behind a tree nearby. Kurenai stepped out from the shade of the tree onto the clearing, walking casually up. “Or maybe that was too easy.”

“Remember our plan,” Shino said after shuffling over to Hinata’s right side,  Kiba taking up her left side, who had taken up his stance once again. “Once we finish the first step, anything she throws at us - genjutsu or ninjutsu - will be easier to deal with.”

“Got it,” Kiba replied in a low tone. “You ready, Akamaru?”

“Arf!” “Let’s go.” Kiba quickly ran up towards Kurenai without missing a beat, throwing a quick jab towards her as she circled around. Kiba did not let her get around him, though, as Akamaru pounced between his legs towards Kurenai, forcing her to dodge and move further, as Kiba recalibrated and threw another jab.

While Kiba continued to spar with Kurenai, Hinata hopped to the side of the landscape where they would have ended up, watching carefully, a shuriken in her hand, holding it to the side of her body, ready to throw it.  Steady...steady...now!

Hinata threw the shuriken with as much force as she could, the shuriken spinning quickly through the as it got between Kiba and Kurenai, nearly cutting through both of their headbands if they didn’t move their head back during the kerfuffle.

“Watch it!” Kiba called out, as Kurenai punched his stomach quickly, making him grunt as he took a step back, falling in the process. 

Suddenly, Kurenai whipped her head as Shino came behind her with a kick, and she leaned back as they spared a bit more. Hinata watched as Kiba got himself up, taking a quick breath as he waited for Kurenai to have her back towards him, and he suddenly leaped out with a jump, reaching his arm out towards the back of her head, where the headband was.

Hinata watched, holding her breath as she saw how close Kiba’s fingertips were to Kurenai’s headband. Within a millisecond, though, Kurenai ducked to the ground without hesitation, almost as if she expected Kiba to come from behind her, and just as Shino was about to throw a punch towards where she was, Kiba’s foot caught on her arm from below, messing with his balance and trajectory and catapulting him downwards into Shino.

Hinata saw Kiba’s chin making direct contact with Shino’s headband on his forehead, a loud thudding sound emitting as they both fell to the ground, Kiba on top of the other. 

“Kiba! Shino!” Hinata exclaimed at the sound as she walked towards them, and she could hear their grumbles of pain.

“Can’t you see that I was right there!” Shino scolded, holding onto his forehead, as he slowly got himself back up to his feet, Kiba rolling on the ground in pain as he held onto his chin.

“You could’ve moved out of the way!” Kiba groaned loudly, remaining on the ground, as Shino dusted off his. “My chin…”

“Are you okay?” Hinata asked Shino, who nodded with a slight tip of his head.

“I think I’ll be fine. No concussion or anything,” Shino reported, glancing over to Kiba, who had managed to pick himself up from the ground, albeit, he never let go of his chin.

“That was close, I have to admit,” Kurenai said from further away, and they all quickly looked towards her. “I might need some...backup.”

Kurenai lifted her hands, her index and middle fingers straight up while the other two bent and touched the tip of her thumbs. She then placed her left fingers pointing horizontally, her right fingers pointing up and vertically in front of her left fingers, making a sort of cross sign. 

Puffs of smoke spurted and exploded beside her, revealing 3...no, wait, 5 replications of Kurenai in a default fighting stance, waiting until the smoke completely dissipated around them.

“A Clone Illusion Jutsu?” Kiba said, taking a step back towards Hinata and Shino, eyes never leaving Kurenai. “This time she’s using more than two. This might be bad, but at least there’s three of us.”

No  , Hinata thought, as she quickly made hand signs, a rush of chakra returning to her head as she pulled up a ram sign.  Byakugan!

 “No…” She moaned, the blue chakra swirling within each of the clones making her remember what she had just gone through. “No..not this again.”

“What’s up?” Kiba asked, watching and waiting for a queue as Hinata’s eyebrows pulled in deeper, lines etching in, her eyes squinting as she glanced over each Kurenai.

“She did this to me before,” Hinata replied quickly, stare never wavering. “Every single one of those clones are physical.”

“What?” Shino said, his voice louder in surprise, snapping his neck immediately towards her. “What do you mean by physical?”

“They’re not illusions like a typical Clone Jutsu,” Hinata explained. “These ones are not hollow shells...they have actual Chakra running through them, and they are able to attack and move like their own person. They’re not as good as fighting, but they can fight back.”

“What kind of Jutsu does that?” Shino said, most likely to himself, and Kiba let out a loud scoff.

"Doesn’t matter what it is! I’m just going to have to get rid of all of them,” Kiba growled through gritted teeth, his voice lower than before. Hinata glanced over towards him, for some reason expecting him to look unsure- but instead she saw a wicked, fanged grin grace his face.

Kiba clasped his hands together in a Tiger sign. Ninja Art of Beast Mimicry!  

Hinata watched him with wide eyes as blue wisps of chakra started to seep out of his body slowly from his chakra system, small and fine flames dancing around until it enveloped his entire body, a second skin. All Fours Jutsu!!

Hinata could feel her mouth open slightly as she watched a transformation before her, both taken aback and in awe, as her teammate started to look less human as the wafts of chakra thickened. His canines looked as if it had gotten longer, sharper, almost wolfish as his smile widened across his face. The tips of his nails started to elongate, acute and triangular, honed and claw-like. 

It was the way that his pupils widened, but also pinholed, honing into the targets that laid before him, never straying to stare at his peripheries... that made Hinata feel the hairs of her arms rise, the atmosphere numbing, not noticing how her breathing became shallow.

“Hinata,” Hinata heard Shino calling out to her, bringing her back to the situation at hand, and she knew this was it.

“I’ll back him up,” Hinata called back, nodding as she took a stance, targeting one of the Kurenais on the side with a swift strike of her palm.

Hinata kept track of Kiba’s movement, his speed seeming to increase with each swift swipe of his hands towards another Kurenai, his body twisting and turning in ways she had never witnessed before and expected from those who were more graceful, more acrobatic rather than...a brawler. Flexibility is a necessary skill that they learn during their youth. Though the most engaged in that art were the girls, practicing gymnastic tricks along with various mandatory dance classes they learned in order to integrate into their role as kunoichi. Hinata was never that graceful, she was nervous easily when so many eyes stared at her, evaluating her.

“Hinata, to your right,” Shino said, and Hinata quickly blocked the incoming attack from another clone.

“The one at the back,” Kiba growled, staring at the Kurenai hanging away from the brawl. “She must be the real one.”

Kiba jumped out towards the Kurenai that blocked his path towards the real Kurenai, and Hinata saw Shino make his way near Kiba, following his trajectory. Shino was now face to face with the real Kurenai, pushing off the ground and lifting his leg. Kurenai ducked as Shino kicked through the air where her head would have been, quickly moving back away from Shino, letting his own momentum spin him around and nearly fall down.

"You only have thirty minutes left," she said after flipping a few meters away from Shino, keeping her fighting stance.

Hinata shuffled over to Kiba, who was swiping recklessly through the air as the clone continued to dodge- up and down, left and right- and the fury on his face grew, a new surge of chakra running through his veins as Hinata watched. She could feel her eyes becoming weary, and she closed her eyes, slowing down her chakra, the temples of her forehead relaxing, her Byakugan vision clearing. The Kurenai clone poofed up into smoke, and Kiba stood there, hunkering over, his fangs and claws still there as he panted, staring at a spot to the ground.

Hinata could feel fright surge through her as she watched Kiba, afraid of approaching him. As if he were a beast that wouldn't hesitate to attack her haphazardly if she got too close. Hinata glanced over at Shino, who was much further away from either of them - she saw that both of his hands were behind his back, one of his hands holding up one finger.

The first step is complete. Now Kiba was in control of the next step...but he didn’t seem to make an effort to look up to Shino, panting harder, his jutsu clearly not receding.

Should I check on him? Hinata thought, hesitantly, her own fright getting the best of her. She took a deep breath, glancing between Shino and Kurenai, then back to Kiba, then back to Kurenai, who was waiting for Shino to move.

It dawned on Hinata suddenly how close they were to the finish line - how close they were to finishing the test. The clock was ticking, and they were in the last half hour - they were this close to becoming Genin, full-fledged shinobi. If the next few steps go according to plan...then they don’t have to go back to the Academy.

And then Hinata could prevent dishonouring her clan’s name.

Just this once, don’t hesitate, Hinata thought, as she walked quickly towards Kiba, taking deep breaths to calm her wavering heart, clenching her fists hard to muster the courage to move forward. “Kiba! Are you okay?”

She asked in a forceful tone, as forceful as it wouldn’t show traces of hesitancy and fright, and she stood near Kiba. Kiba didn’t respond immediately to her voice, and she lifted up a hand, slowly and steadily holding it towards him, waiting to see whether he would notice her or not.

Shino suddenly threw a kunai towards Kurenai, Kurenai standing still without a flinch as it skimmed past through strands of her hair, hitting the tree behind her. She slowly walked up towards the tree, pulling the kunai out from the trunk, sharply, almost menacingly, as she held it in her hand.

“You’re tired already?” Kurenai asked smoothly, and Shino stood, refusing to respond, holding his ground.

“Kiba…” Hinata repeated, and her voice must have gotten through to him as he immediately looked up towards her, still breathing hard, and she noticed that his face was reddened, likely from the adrenaline forcing his blood to pulse through his body with the increased flow of chakra from his jutsu. Yet, his pupils were bigger than they were before, though still near slits as they always were, and she could see that his teeth had returned to normal...or, what was normal for him.

“Yeah,” Kiba responded after a few pants. “Yeah...yeah...I’m good...I haven’t used this in battle before...so…”

His voice trailed off as his eyes wandered towards the direction of Shino and Kurenai, who had started another spar, now holding a kunai in their hands as they pushed it against one another, a stalemate that Hinata could tell will not last long, as Shino’s arm shaking a bit under Kurenai’s pressure.

“It’s your turn…” Hinata whispered, standing back as Kiba stood up immediately, perking up.

Kiba immediately let out a short, low whistle, pausing, before letting out another short, low whistle. The whistle fell onto Kurenai’s ears, who pushed the kunai harshly against Shino’s, making him trip backwards as she moved back. Kurenai squinted her eyes suspiciously as she looked towards Kiba, before asking, “What are you kids planning?”

“Remember sensei, Rule #8,” Kiba said, a smug grin on his face. “Under any circumstances, a shinobi must never divulge information-”

“Actually, that’s Rule #5,” Shino called out, making Kiba harden his once smug grin into a tight line. “Rule #8 is-”

“I don’t care!” Kiba sharply snarled, shooting a glare towards the other boy, before snapping his head back to Kurenai, who continued to stare cautiously. "We're taking you down! Now Akamaru!"

“Arf!”

Everything felt as if it had slowed down, as Hinata watched as the headband around Kurenai’s forehead suddenly fell, her eyes widening from surprise as the headband fell towards the ground- except, it didn’t fall to the ground. At the same moment as the headband fell, Akamaru shot from a few centimeters behind Kurenai, between her legs and caught the headband between his teeth, running towards Kiba quickly before Kurenai could make any movement.

“Yeah! Good boy,” Kiba chuckled as he knelt to the ground, and Akamaru dropped the headband onto his hand.

“Good job, Akamaru,” Hinata said, feeling the excitement of what had just happened to her, and Akamaru came up to her feet, sitting down as he stared up expectedly, his little tail wagging away as he gave a little bark at her. Did he want her to…?

“He wants you to pet him,” Kiba explained to her. “Seems like he took a real liking to you.”

Hinata had to hold back her swoon as she knelt to the ground and started to pet Akamaru on his hand, his soft white fur running through her fingertips. Akamaru let out another bark, before rolling on the ground, showing Hinata his stomach, and Hinata immediately complied, rubbing his stomach.

“Akamaru! You’re not a pet!” Kiba scolded, but he didn’t say anything else, the soft grin he had on his face saying that he was fine with what was happening. Maybe just this once, since Akamaru did do a good job.

“Everything went according to plan,” they heard Shino say to them as he approached them, Kurenai trailing behind him as well.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think your plan would work,” Kiba said, standing up as he looked at Shino, now confidence written on his face. “But I guess, I’m just that good, huh?”

“Sure,” Shino replied mildly after a moment. “However, I think Hinata supported the plan very well.”

It was not an explicit ‘good job’, and Hinata did not mind; this is the first time she’s being complimented for her abilities, and she felt happy hearing it from Shino, especially, his implicit meaning clear to her.

“I don’t think you should be celebrating just yet,” Kurenai interrupted, and they glanced up towards her, her hand on her hip, watching them, her expression hard to decipher. “I told you guys. The first person to get the headband gets to become a Genin. You did listen when I was telling you the rules of the test right.”

The atmosphere suddenly ran cold, and Hinata could feel her smile falter at Kurenai’s words, glancing over to Kiba, his grin from earlier falling as he gritted his teeth.

“You said the goal was to take the headband off your head,” Kiba replied quickly, gripping the headband in his hand. “Well we all did it, so basically we completed the test.”

“Sure,” Kurenai replied just as quickly. “However none of you technically got the headband. I don’t know how the headband fell, but if anything, it was Akamaru who caught the headband first. Technically, I could fail you all right now, since none of you physically took it yourself.”

“What?” Kiba said. “How is that fair-”

“There’s no such thing as fair,” Kurenai interrupted harshly, harsher than Hinata has ever heard her speak so far. “The real world isn’t fair. And the shinobi world is not. On a mission, when your commander tells you to do something, you do. You follow the command, or else you’ll be jailed or worse, killed, for going against orders. By not following commands, you risk failing the mission and ultimately, you risk the lives of your comrades as well.”

None of them replied. None of them could reply. Hinata wasn’t sure what to say- in this moment, Kurenai was very convincing with her words.

“...I’ll leave it up to you three then,” Kurenai replied after a moment, watching them carefully. “Throughout this test, I have found that all of you were competent enough. Still...I would only prefer one student. So why don’t you decide who gets the headband- which means you decide amongst yourselves who passes to become a Genin.”

“We decide,” Hinata repeated, looking at the two other boys, Kiba looking at the headband in his hand.

They all wanted to pass. They all wanted to become Genin. They all probably would choose themselves in a heartbeat.

Would they? Hinata wouldn’t even choose herself given the opportunity. She felt as though she didn’t play a major role in the plan that-

“Hinata, you take it then,” Kiba said suddenly, breaking the silence, lifting the headband towards her.

Kiba...Hinata stared at the headband, the metal gleaming under the sunlight, and she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Kiba...wanted her to pass the test? He really thought...she contributed to this test.

“I-...I can’t,” Hinata replied quickly, shaking her head, holding up his hand as a stop sign.

“Why not?” Kiba asked, eyebrows pulling in at her response. “Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to find an exit to that genjutsu. And you saw that her clones weren’t illusions, and supported us while in combat and everything.”

“He’s right, Hinata,” Shino said. “It’s the little things that helped us out while we were in battle.”

“But still,” Hinata said, glancing down, now feeling the nape of her neck heating up, these compliments overbearing for her. “I think...it should be you or Kiba, to be honest. You both...you were in battle and were able to execute the steps that were needed to get the headband...Without either of you, working together with your skills, we wouldn’t have been able to get it...”

“...If anything, most of those strategies are because of Shino,” Kiba replied, not looking at him when he said that, and Hinata could see Shino turn his head to look at him. “So he should get the headband.”

Shino didn’t respond for a moment, his glance remaining on Kiba, who refused to look up from the one spot on the ground. He then looked towards Kurenai, and then said, “They both deserve to be here more than me. I think they worked best as a team and they collaborated together, helping each other out when they were in combat. Hinata and Kiba carried out the strategy I laid out for them, understanding their roles, and we were able to get the headband because of their own abilities and work. They should go on-”

“Nah, you know what,” Kiba interrupted suddenly, gripping the headband, pointing it at Kurenai. “You might as well just fail all of us. None of us wants to go on alone. So you should either accept all of us as your students or none of us.”

Kurenai stared at them, watching this entire conversation unfold, not ever interrupting. Just...watching...as if she was taking into consideration what they were saying.

“You would really do that?” Kurenai asked. “You would stay back for another year, just so the rest of your team can move on?”

“...Isn't that what this is all about, Kurenai-sensei?” Shino asked. “The ability for us to work together as a team? I think it’s pretty clear that...despite you trying to make us work independently...we decided to work together. Teamwork...that’s one of the underpinning of the village. It’s what makes a shinobi complete a mission - without one another, we would have failed.”

There was a silence that fell over them at Shino’s words, Kurenai staring at him for a moment, saying nothing. Then, Hinata saw the tips of her lips turn upwards, and she broke into a smile.

“Good answer,” Kurenai replied, and suddenly, her voice was warm and soft, unlike how hard and distant she had just sounded a second ago, making the cold atmosphere that fell over them lift. “You all pass.”

A pause.

“W-What?” Hinata whispered, stunned at her words, feeling her heart palpitations increasing as Kurenai gave a slight chuckle.

“You all pass,” Kurenai repeated, looking between them. “From now on, you’re all officially Genin of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.”

None of them could say anything, staring at Kurenai. It was Kiba who broke out in a whoop.

“ALRIGHT!” Kiba exclaimed happily, Akamaru barking by him, jumping on his little paws.

“You’re right, Shino,” Kurenai said, looking over at Shino. “I wanted to mislead all of you, to see what you guys would do. I wanted to not only see your individual skills, but your ability to work together as a team. There’s a reason why we start off with a three-man squad; it’s easier to develop a teamwork base, and it’s the core squad that yields optimal results on many missions, along with one squad leader if need be. However...the forces can’t just let anyone get in.”

“Like I said...the shinobi world is not fair,” Kurenai continued, her voice smoother, softer, almost intimate and reflective. “We can only depend on each other...on our teammates to carry out their side of the plan. There are even times when you don’t know your teammates that well...there are teammates who you thought were your allies, your closest friends...could betray you and the mission suffers. You need to trust one another, and work together in order to carry out the mission and accomplish your goal.”

"How did you do it?” Kurenai asked, an eyebrow raised, the tip of one of her red fingernails tapping her cheek, curiously. “How did you manage to cut off my headband without me noticing? I figured out when Akamaru left your side and hid underground. But I don’t recall anyone getting near my headband.”

“It’s because we didn’t,” Shino spoke up with a smooth tone, never moving his head to look at her, choosing instead a spot on the ground to stare. “Indirectly at least. My insects were the ones who cut it off. It was when we were sparring for the first time. I planted a kikaichu on you, in order for the other bugs to have a scent to follow. The kunai that I threw at you...I intentionally missed. It had a few insects on it...and it made its way to you, and slowly cut through the fabric of your headband. Hinata kept an eye on the headband, and when she could see it slightly cut through, she told Kiba to give Akamaru the signal.”

“I see,” Kurenai said slowly, nodding along. “You had to coordinate a signal with them as well...I didn’t notice you saying anything to them about it. You guys really did plan and coordinate this entire strategy...I’m actually impressed. I’m definitely making the right choice.”

Hinata felt a smile grow on her face, and she looked down, feeling shy all of the sudden and wanting to hide her face, her fists clenched tightly.

“Tomorrow, we’ll meet in front of the Hokage Office, where we will go over your contracts to officially inaugurate you on paper, and pick up the Ninja Registration Cards you guys should’ve signed up for after graduating,” Kurenai announced. “For now, go home and rest up.”

“Thank you, Kurenai-sensei,” Hinata said, bowing slightly, the other doing the same bow.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, sensei!” Kiba said with a smile, and they all started to walk down the path that led to the main Village floor.

Excitement, happiness, all of these emotions swirled inside of Hinata, but the biggest thing that she felt was ...relief. Her passing her test...her being an official shinobi of the Leaf...now her family might find her to be more dignified rather than pitiful, and her father might be less on her case for a while when he hears the news of her passing.

Maybe for now, she can breathe a bit easier...

[kristallioness]

The guardian lemur

Summary: When Momo starts acting strange around Katara, she turns to Aang for advice.

Word count: 2,544

Author's note: I don't remember whether it was a blog post I saw here, or an online news article I stumbled across.. But, I think it's adorable when sometimes cats can sense if their owners are pregnant, so they become protective of them and start acting motherly towards them (like their natural instincts are kicking in). This cute concept inspired the following story. By the way, my mom has told me stories about how her grandmother (my great-grandmother) used to have a cat who'd catch mice and bring them back into the house and then release them, which infuriated her to no end. So, I guess this tidbit with Momo is inspired by that kitty, who didn't exactly understand how to be a cat. *lol* Anyways, I hope you like it since 'keeping warm' was one of my prompts, which I submitted this year (and it got chosen, yay!). Oh, and a happy beginning to all of you for Kataang Week 2020! *throws glitter and confetti*

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The kitchen was filled with a mixed aroma of seaweed, herbs and noodles, all boiling in hot water. Katara added a pinch of salt into the broth and stirred the liquid with a big wooden spoon before taking a sip. From the corner of her eye, she could see the winged lemur, who'd quietly been sitting next to her feet for the past ten minutes.

"No, Momo. You can't have any until I'm done cooking."

Momo merely scratched the back of his ear with his hind leg, but otherwise didn't budge. Katara did feel bad for not giving him a taste before lunchtime. She wasn't even sure whether lemurs eat noodles, not to mention ones made out of seaweed..

And there it was again, the gentle rubbing against her shins. Momo began circling her legs in an attempt to persuade her to give him something to nibble on. Poor thing must be starving, she thought. If he was trying to make her feel guilty for not feeding him, it worked.

Katara released a heavy sigh and stepped away from the stove for a second, her small buddy padding right after her on the floor. She opened a cupboard door and grabbed the last moon peach from their dwindling fruit supply.

The constant following around nor the tiny gestures of affection weren't the things that had been driving the waterbender crazy. It was their pet's new habit of bringing live prey into the household. Last week, he'd caught dozens of bugs, five mice, three hamsters, two frogs and one unconscious bird.

Aang had nurtured the bird back to health and released it into the wild. The frogs weren't a problem either, so Katara had simply shooed them out of the house and they'd found a cosy habitat in the pond in front of their home. Luckily the bugs were also typical inhabitants on their little island, and the ones Momo brought inside eventually became dinner for the domesticated frogs.

However, it was the rodents who'd soon found their way into the pantry. Within a day, almost half of their pastry supplies were gone. Katara was furious. She had to ask her husband to buy more food from the market, and her brother to come up with ingenious traps to catch the annoying critters without killing them, like Aang had pleaded, before they could destroy their entire food supply, not to mention the vegetables in the greenhouse.

What really got on her nerves were the times the winged lemur would approach her with that proud smile on his face, something apparently dead caught between his small fangs or in between his paws, and release his catch right in front of her feet. Only for her to watch it scurry away before she could even blink, let alone catch it.

"This is the last one. Here you go," Katara said as she squatted down and extended her hand. She felt confused when the lemur pushed it back.

"Don't you want it? C'mon, it's your favourite treee-eat.."

She threw the peach into the hallway like a ball, in hopes that Momo would leave her alone to go fetch it. He did fly out of the kitchen for long enough to let her return to her cooking, but came back with the fruit fully intact between his fangs.

"Well, go on. Eat up!" Katara urged him with a wave of her hand, but Momo let out a disappointed moan and drooped his ears at that. He dropped the peach in his paws and with the utmost care, he pulled off a small piece and offered it to her instead.

"Thanks, Momo, but I'm not craving for a moon peach right now. You can have it."

The lemur hesitated at first, but under her watchful eye, he finally bit into the juicy fruit, allowing her to finish preparing lunch for herself and her husband in peace.

Speaking of peace, Katara couldn't recall the last time she and Aang had been given a moment of privacy in bed for the past couple of weeks. Often times when waking up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, Katara would discover that she'd inched further away from her partner, due to a scrawny furball who always managed to squeeze himself in between their tummies, no matter the positions they were in. Or if their intimacy wasn't being disturbed, she'd wake up due to the curled up, personalized heater sleeping on her belly whenever she was lying on her back.

Since when had she become a magnet for winged lemurs? Did she smell of something that attracted them to her? Had Momo grown fond of her and simply wished to spend more time by her side instead of hanging out with Aang all the time? Katara had no idea, but all of this was becoming a bit much.

As she poured the steaming seaweed noodles into two bowls, Momo leaped up and landed on her shoulders. He curled his tail around her neck for support, then held a leftover piece of the moon peach in front of her face.

"Oh, alright.." she chuckled, snagging the small piece from his paw and putting it in her mouth.

"Thanks, Momo!"

She scratched him from below the chin with her finger, earning a series of content purrs from the lemur. Once the bowls were full, she was ready to join her husband in the living room.

Aang was leaning on the windowsill, admiring the view of Republic City straight across the bay, when he heard footsteps coming closer.

"Lunch is served!" Katara announced as she joined him. The airbender grinned at the sight of two steaming bowls filled with delicious food, watching how she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch. The smell that accompanied her was mouth-watering.

"Finally! I could eat a whole barrel of noodles by now."

His wife giggled at that comment.

"Well, I hope we didn't keep you waiting for too long."

He walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a loving smile.

"Sweetie, I waited for you for a hundred years. I don't think you could ever top that record again."

Katara laughed wholeheartedly this time, letting him give her a quick kiss on the lips afterwards.

Aang tenderly ran a hand over her slight belly bump before beckoning her to have a seat on the couch with him so they could have lunch together. They both grabbed a bowl, along with a pair of chopsticks, and clinked them together like those snobbish citizens in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se would do.

"Dig in!"

While the couple indulged themselves, Momo hopped off Katara's shoulders and disappeared to a different room. She noticed the lemur fly off into the corridor, but didn't pay too much attention to it. At this point, she was grateful for any given moment she could get, just to be alone with her beloved.

"What do you think? Is it too spicy?"

Hailing from the Water Tribe, Katara had grown up with a blander range of foods available in the frozen landscape, with the exception of meat that was either cooked or fried, and seasoned prior to the devouring.

Hence she tried to spice up their plain meals, such as these noodles, by experimenting with adding various spices or herbs. Aang shook his head.

"Nah, I think it's really good. You might wanna go easy on the garlic next time. Otherwise, I'm afraid you won't wanna kiss me anymore if my breath stinks."

She laughed when he planted a greasy kiss on her cheek, after which she continued to slurp her own seaweed noodles.

Her attention turned to her feet when she spotted Momo, who'd returned from another one of his adventures. For a second, her heart dropped at the sight of a mouse caught between his teeth. Fortunately, it was just a toy he'd brought along.

"Momo, why are you bringing your stuff here? Do you wanna play?"

The winged lemur jumped up on the couch and supported his front paws on the waterbender's thigh, dropping the toy right into her lap. Katara stared at the fake mouse for a mere second before Momo flew away again.

"Wait! Where are you going? I was gonna play.. with you.."

She sighed, picking the toy up from its string of a tail. Aang could sense her frustration.

"What's wrong?"

Katara put her half-empty bowl on the table and continued to stare at the toy mouse hanging from her fingertips. She twirled the tail around, making the rest of its body spin.

"I don't know. Momo's been acting really strange lately."

"Strange how exactly?"

"He's always following me around and rubbing himself against me. Not to mention he's practically invaded our personal space in bed. I don't need to remind you that he's bringing all kinds of small creatures inside the temple every day.."

Aang's focus shifted from her complaining to the culprit himself. Momo had returned to the living room and he gleefully hopped beside the waterbender, this time dropping his favourite ball in her lap.

"..He brings me food even when I'm not hungry. And now, when I find a place to sit still for a little while longer, he keeps piling some of his toys around me."

Momo tilted his head and stared back at the airbender, almost as if he was trying to communicate with him. Tell him the motives behind his actions and all the mischief he'd caused within the last month. Katara picked up the ball he'd dropped.

"See?.. Aang, are you even listening to me!?"

"Sh-shh!" he hushed her, raising a finger to her lips so she'd quit yammering.

"What?"

He pointed down to her stomach. Both their eyes were fixed on the winged lemur, who lay down in the waterbender's lap and nestled the side of his face against her round belly, one ear covering it like a blanket. Momo looked up at the married couple, then shut his lime green eyes and began purring ever so silently. Aang started laughing, but Katara became even more annoyed.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Oh, Katara.. He can tell when you're in the family way. He's trying to take care of you and the baby in the only way he knows how - by acting as a daddy lemur."

Her face twisted through several expressions of anger, confusion and eventually, realization.

"So, that's what he's been doing this whole time? Tending to me as if I'm an expecting mommy lemur? Which I technically am, except for the lemur part.."

Aang reached his hand out to pet his caring companion. The winged lemur arched his back a bit and nuzzled his face against the fuzzy material of Katara's coat. His purrs become louder with each stroke.

"Momo can sense that there's life growing inside of you, so he's been acting like a proper papa lemur and looking after the unborn child and its mother. That includes bringing you food and stuff to play with to keep you well-fed and entertained."

Katara felt as if he'd opened her eyes to a whole different reality. She never thought that Momo's odd behaviour could be related to the fact that she's pregnant now. The timing fit, and Aang's reasoning explained the weird new habits.

"But, what about the snuggling? Why's he so keen on sleeping on my stomach?"

"He's trying to keep you and the baby warm. Also, since there are a lot of hormonal changes going on with you right now, your body's radiating more warmth in this area," Aang explained by running his hand over her bump, careful not to move the lemur's ear off of it.

"Which means your stomach is the perfect hotspot, literally. You're keeping him warm, too."

"Where did you learn all of that?" Katara wondered, her tone playful and curious at the same time. The cheeks on her husband's face turned crimson and he looked away for a moment, rubbing the back of his bald head awkwardly.

"I might've found some books about pregnancy on the top shelf of the bookcase in your office the last time I was waiting for you to finish work..."

She giggled and rewarded him with a soft peck on the cheek for being so caring and putting in more effort to understand this new "condition" of hers better.

"Thanks, sweetie. I appreciate you looking out for me."

Aang accepted her gratitude with a wide grin, and by snaking an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer. After that, she joined him in stroking the winged lemur, who seemed to be happily napping in her lap.

"Oh, Momo.. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He looked up at Katara and let out a short disgruntled screech that could've been translated into an 'I told you so'. She laughed at that.

"Oh, okay.. I guess you did tell me. I was just too oblivious to pick up on the signs."

Momo rested his head in her lap again and raised one of his ears above her belly bump.

"Why do you think he does that thing with his ear?" the waterbender wondered out loud, tenderly running her hand over the soft fur on the lemur's head.

"Maybe he's listening to what the little tyke is doing in there. Animals can hear sounds with a much higher frequency. Take my bison whistle, for example. We can't hear anything, but Appa always comes to me when I blow it."

"I doubt that Momo can hear anything else besides my stomach growling. I mean, the baby hasn't even developed a heart yet. Believe me, I've checked.. If anything, he might be able to sense its movements in my womb."

Katara was right. She was barely into the last weeks of her first trimester. As hard as she'd tried, she couldn't detect the baby's heartbeat through her healing abilities yet. And it was too early for it to start kicking her, too.

The only changes she could sense in her body were the slight weight gain, which led to her developing a subtle belly bump. Her breasts had become a bit tender, which meant that making love with Aang at night would be less fun for a while. Not that he wasn't being more gentle with her because of this.. And finally, some unusual cravings, which was probably why she preferred to cook spicier foods recently.

Either way, these slight changes were enough for Momo's paternal instincts to kick in. He rolled over onto his back and let the couple scratch his soft belly instead. The corners of his mouth curled into a content smile as he purred against Katara's tummy.

"Aww! I guess this is kind of endearing. Plus, this way the baby can get acquainted with one of its future furry friends, too. That's right! Yes, you can!" she cooed to the winged lemur, who rubbed himself against her thighs as he twitched with delight at her scratches.

"But no more mice in the house, okay? I'm capable of finding my own food," Katara said with a wave of her finger, to which Momo replied with another chirp. Translation - 'yes, madam'.

[lovelyirony]

Footnotes

it’s been a bit since i added to the bookshop au: time got away from me! 

We’re taking over the world/a little victimless crime -Do It All the Time, IDKHBTFM

Tony notices that Bucky doesn’t come into the store for a month. This is fine. Should be fine. Not like he wonders what Bucky will think of the newest latte, which is geared more to the warmer weather that has been breezing in cheerfully. The iced latte, flavored with caramel and coconut, had been a hit with MJ and Ned, who both loved it. 

But Bucky hadn’t come in and tried it.

His anxiety tells him that he is found out and are currently waiting until Tony leaves the building to set up a trap and probably blow up every single book and also him.

But that would be stupid. There’s no way that the Avengers know who Iron Man or War Machine is. Tony Jarvis is a nice guy who runs a bookstore, has a suspicious amount of money from inheritance, and got a degree in English from a local college. 

He even photo-shopped pictures there with Rhodey and everything. (Thank god for anti-aging technology and Rhodey’s genius.)

But he still kind of wants Bucky to come in and look at books. He even has a few records pulled just for the occasion.

“You are quite honestly the worst kind of person,” Rhodey says. “Who gets a crush on who is supposed to be their arch-nemesis and wants to make a custom coffee menu for them?”

“Not me,” Tony says quickly, pushing away the lemon-blueberry scone idea. “And besides if anyone would be my arch-nemesis, it would clearly be Black Widow. We match each other intellectually.”

“Not a chance,” Rhodey says with a snort. “Or did you forget the time you got so nervous you—”

“Hello?” comes a voice from the front. Rhodey immediately cuts off, going back to filing new shipments. Tony looks over.

“Hey, you’re back!” Tony cheers.

Rhodey makes a motion of gagging. Tony flips him off with one hand behind his back as he comes forward.

“Sorry I haven’t been in. Work has been…enlightening.”

“Usually code for ‘I-don’t-get-paid-enough’” Tony teases. “You wanna try an iced coffee drink?”

“I’m game.”

“Sit down at the table, I’ll get it out for you.”

Bucky has to admit that a good apron can do wonders for an ass. Or maybe Tony just has a really nice one. Either way, the view is spectacular.

“What has work been having you do?” Tony asks, pouring in syrup.

“Oh just…the usual,” Bucky says. He’s horrible at lying. He really, really is. “They keep twisting up what they want, it’s getting confusing.”

“Bookshops, luckily, are much simpler than that,” Tony says, smiling. He slides the drink over to Bucky. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

Bucky takes a long slurp. Puts his head back.

“Tony, you ever experienced a masterpiece?”

“Once or twice,” Tony says, smiling.

“This is the damn Mona Lisa of drinks.”

Tony grins. Bucky sips a bit more, sighing in contentment.

“Hey, I know that last time I learned that you sold records. What are, um, your favorites?”

“I’m glad you asked…”

Bucky learns about new music. He learns that he needs to google new bands. AC/DC is a clear favorite of Tony’s, who sings along. It’s a funny juxtaposition with his cardigan and old jeans, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

Bucky finds some of the old ones, which Tony doesn’t look surprised at.

“You have an old soul,” Tony says.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bucky mutters.

“Don’t I?” Tony teases. “You act as if you’ve never had iced coffee before.”

Bucky has to turn back to the player to stop from laughing in front of him. What Tony doesn’t know…well. He’s damned sure he doesn’t know that technically all of Bucky’s favorite records were either unable to be found, most likely questionable, or long disintegrated with time.

Oh, Tony knows. He knows for a damned fact that Bucky has never had iced coffee, most likely does not know who the hell Jimmy Carter was and knows how to disassemble and reassemble most weapons in under sixty seconds.

But it’s cute to mess with him. His brow furrows. Tony has a thing for furrows.

“Hey Tony?” Rhodey asks, head popping up from the upstairs. Bucky automatically looks up, finding the face to be vaguely familiar.

“What is it Rhodey-dear?” Tony calls back out.

“I have a computer glitch, you gotta come see it! Now!”

“This better not be a repeat of the pinball incident,” Tony mutters, turning back to Bucky. “I’ll be back in five minutes, I promise.”

“Take your time, love,” Bucky responds.

Bucky then immediately wonders if he bangs his head against the column near him if Tony and Rhodey will hear it. Tony also called his…person “Rhodey-dear.” Dear! Does he even have a chance?

But this brings him to think about Rhodey. He looked familiar. Bucky’s life doesn’t consist of knowing that you know someone from a certain social event and trying to place them. No, Bucky knows people because of two reasons:

1.)         He tried to kill them.

2.)         SHIELD has something on them.

He’s pretty sure that if he was faced with someone like Rhodey, he wouldn’t be able to kill him. Even from the head poking out, he could see a pretty defined shoulder and a look set to his gaze that read as very competent, entirely capable of taking down an authoritarian government, and also probably likes gourmet cheeses. The last one is a guess. But Bucky likes to guess pretty damn accurately.

Rhodey…

Rhodes. Colonel James Rhodes. Close with Tony Stark, who went missing. They thought he had something to do with something. He moved to New York pretty quickly after that, refusing to go into military service to a “previously unreported mental incapacity.”

Bucky smells bullshit.

Tony Stark. Another mystery in this puzzle. Bucky remembers trying to kill Howard and Maria Stark. It was the wrong person. Winter Soldier never missed his targets. Of course, Tony Stark wasn’t the target.

-

Rhodey is freaking out. Someone at SHIELD figured out there was a tiny bug in the system.

“When did they hire someone competent?!” Tony whisper-yells. “I thought they were two years behind schedule!”

“We made that schedule when we were drunk out of our minds from Moscato,” Rhodey hisses.

“Still! It was Moscato. It wasn’t like we drank vodka until we were shit-faced. That would’ve ended up disastrously and possibly given Dum-E and U a new sibling before Butterfingers.”

“Butterfingers wants a baby, just so you know,” Rhodey says.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Tony asks.

“Because you know what you’re doing and I figured you should know what your daughter is up to. It’s very important in developmental psychology.”

“Do not,” Tony hisses. “Let me fix this…”

With a couple more frantic curses, one eye shut, and a yelp, the problem is (mostly) taken care of.

“You think they can trace it?”

“It’ll trace back to a random e-café,” Tony says. “And there will be Justin Hammer who is currently trying to work out why his dating profile isn’t working. I’ll give you a hint: it’s the bio and the fact that he looks like he’s going to bail on paying for your dinner.”

Rhodey smiles, shaking his head and looking out the door.

“Get back down to Barnes. Don’t let him know what this is.”

“When would I?”

“You tend to be a terrible liar around people you like.”

“Why you—!”

“Thank you for helping with the pinball machine again!” Rhodey says, throwing his voice. He shoves Tony out of the office. Tony’s cheeks are bright red, he’s flushed, and he can barely walk down the stairs.

He’s not sure what exactly happened. He knows someone found out about them, tried to trace the bug back. That simply wouldn’t do because Tony runs a legitimate business. Pays taxes on April fifteenth and everything.

“Sorry about that, emergency with a pinball machine game,” Tony says.

“Understandable,” Bucky says. “What was wrong it? A bug get in?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Tony responds, body going tense for a moment. “You want to pick out a new record?”

“Yeah, sure…”

They find out that Bucky absolutely hates the pop, almost-fake music from the fifties.

“It’s…unsettling,” Bucky says, shuddering. “Gross.”

“Let me get some Benny Goodman then,” Tony says.

“How’d you know?”

“Everyone likes his music,” Tony says. “But then again, you did say you were an old soul.”

Bucky can hear the familiar music fill the air as he hums to himself.

“Hey handsome, wanna help me with something?” Tony asks. “I have some books that need to be shelved. I was wondering if you could help?”

“No problem,” Bucky says, grinning. “Can’t reach the top shelf?”

“Why you—”

“I’m shelving!” Bucky calls, grabbing one of the boxes.

Tony thinks that no one should be attractive when they’re lifting boxes. Especially when they’re holding what is essentially about forty pounds with one arm. His left one, but still.

There is also the matter of making sure that Barnes never finds out who he is. Tony has been quite careful about that, although the “bug” comment got to him. Does he know about them? Is he playing some sort of long game?

Answer: no. Bucky got distracted by a book title that he remembers from years ago.

“I forgot I read this,” he says, smiling. “It was forever ago.”

“Old books get to you like nothing else,” Tony responds. “I grew up with Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You read that one yet?”

“Add it to the recommended box,” Bucky answers.

He has his own box now. Technically a crate, but Tony’s been putting books there for Bucky when he thinks he’s found one that he’ll like. Which of course, Bucky will like whatever book is in there if Tony chose it. He likes anything Tony chooses. He would wear the worst outfit in existence if Tony chose it.

Shelving goes by with little conversation, although they both hum along to the music being played softly over the intercoms. Tony comes and goes, helping customers with different items, brewing some more coffee, and getting some more boxes.

Bucky likes the routine.

He’s sad to go, taking his books with him and waving a soft goodbye. Tony’s leaning against the doorframe, a fond look on his face as the bookshop light floats out onto dark pavement. He wishes he could be there all the time.

And then, of course, people are in his apartment.

“Bookstore again, huh?” Steve asks. Natasha’s looking through the pile of receipts on the kitchen counter.

“You go there a lot,” she murmurs.

“I like being literate, gives me a headstart on Clint,” Bucky answers glibly.

“Even if someone liked reading this much, they wouldn’t be buying obscene amounts of books and coffee.”

“I don’t buy every book. To—the owner lets me take some home if I return them the next day.”

“You’re on a first name basis?” Natasha asks, eyebrow arched. “Just what bookstore are you going to?”

“One that’s none of your business,” Bucky says.

“It says it on top of the receipt,” Steve says.

Bucky curses.

Steve laughs at him.

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Seven

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

May. 17. 2020

"You should go on the Great British Bake Off!"

Henry's idea came through the speakers on my laptop from where it sat on the counter. We'd been chatting on the phone for over an hour and at some point along the way, I'd decided to make cookies. It was late so everyone in my house had long retired to their bedrooms and since I needed my hands free for the baking process, we'd decided to switch to a video chat. It was actually quite nice just having our casual conversation while I did some baking and he sipped on some whiskey.

"Everyone says that," I laughed at his suggestion as I sipped my glass of wine while my cookies baked in the oven. "But I couldn't handle the pressure. Don't get me wrong, I can bake efficiently when I need to, but it must be so stressful on the show. I do cry quite easily too so if they said anything bad about something I made I would probably just burst into tears."

Henry chuckled before sticking his bottom lip out in a dramatic fake pout.

"Awe, can't take criticism?"

"I can!" I protested with a smile. "But they can be really harsh sometimes! And they give them such short time limits and then act like they're shit bakers even if they knew exactly where they went wrong, but they just didn't have time to start again."

"But surely there are times when you're in that situation when baking professionally?"

"Not really," I shrugged. "I wouldn't take a custom order if they wanted it done in an unreasonable time and as far as the basics go, I always made sure I went in early enough before we opened that I could get everything done properly."

"That's very professional of you," He nodded approvingly. "And I'd say it's a fair criticism of the show, but they probably need that time crunch to make the show exciting for viewers."

I gasped dramatically at that comment.

"Are you saying that regular baking wouldn't be exciting?"

"I'm sure some of it would be thrilling," Henry smirked. "But I would also assume that parts of it could be comparable to watching paint dry."

"Hmm, sounds much like the list of movies you've been in..."

I tried to keep straight face as I made that quip, but I cracked up as Henry tossed his head back laughing.

"Wow, Brooke," He chuckled, shaking his head. "That was harsh."

"I'm just teasing," I smiled. "And I am sorry if this impromptu baking show hasn't been very exciting."

"Hey now, that's not what I said." Henry smirked. "It's been delightful. Honestly, if all bakers wore outfits like that then it would never be boring to watch."

I blushed and subconsciously pulled up the straps on my silk cami pajama top to make sure it wasn't too revealing. The shorts that matched it were currently hidden from view by the counter, but I was sure he got a good look at them when I'd bent over to put the cookies in the oven.

"It's not very practical though is it?" I asked, trying to seem nonchalant and unaffected by his comment. "There's a lot of exposed skin that could get burnt..."

"So if the outfit isn't for baking, is it for my benefit?"

I took a big gulp of my wine as he waited for my answer, his eyebrow raised questioningly. Of course I'd made sure that I looked nice, even a bit sexy, before suggesting we switched to video, but I wasn't going to admit that so easily.

"No," I shook my head. "These are just my normal, everyday pajamas."

"The ones you save for special occasions must be very impressive then."

"That depends," I shrugged with a smirk. "If it's a really special occasion then I usually don't wear any."

Henry practically choked on his whiskey and I was pleased to get under his skin a bit.

"Wow, that is..." He cleared his throat. "Fair enough."

Before I could do anything but smirk at watching him squirm, my timer beeped signalling the cookies were done. I mumbled a quick 'just a minute' before turning around, slipping some oven mitts on and bending over to take the cookies out, well aware that I was giving him another show.

I checked the cookies quickly to make sure they were done before setting them on top of the oven and turning back to Henry.

"Those look amazing," He praised. "I can practically smell them through the screen."

"They do smell pretty good," I smiled. "But I've learned the hard way how important it is to let them cool."

Henry laughed, but at the same time a tiny voice from the doorway drew my attention away from the computer.

"Aunt Cookie?" Molly asked. "Can I come in?"

At her age, there were times when I was shocked by how big and how grown up she looked, but now she seemed the opposite. With her teddy bear tucked under her arm, her frilly pink pajamas and her eyes red from crying she looked small and fragile. 

"Of course, sweetheart," I smiled. "Can I call you back, Henry?"

He agreed and I quickly hung up before going over to Molly who was still lingering by the door and squatting down to her level.

"What's wrong?"

That was all it took for her bottom lip to start wobbling.

"I'm just...I'm just..." She took a deep breath before letting out a sob. "I'm just so sad."

My heart broke at the sight so I held out my arms and she instantly rushed forward, wrapping hers around my neck. Her whole body shook as she cried, but I just squeezed her tight and rubbed her back until she'd got it all out of her system. Once the sobs had subsided into sniffles, I leaned back and gently wiped my thumb under her eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, giving her a moment to think before she nodded. "Would a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and some ice cream help?"

Her teary eyes widened in delight at that.

"But I've already brushed my teeth..."

"I think it'll be okay just this once," I winked, earning a quiet giggle. "But don't tell your mum, okay?"

She nodded frantically and I scooped her up into my arms before carrying her over to one of the bar stools at the island. The cookies would have cooled off enough to eat by now so I put two on a couple of plates before adding a big dollop of ice cream. We ate in silence for a few moments before I pressed her.

"So, what's got you so sad?"

"The big virus..."

She mumbled her words around a mouthful of ice cream, but it was what I'd been expecting so I understood.

"It's pretty scary," I agreed. "But what's bugging you right now?"

"Nana and Pops were watching TV and the man said that lots of people died," She confessed and I made a mental note to remind everyone to be careful what they watched when Molly was in earshot. "And that a bunch more people were gonna get sick still."

"Well, unfortunately, that's true," I reluctantly admitted, not sure how much she really knew or really should know. "That's why we came here because not so many people are sick in Jersey so we're safer."

Her lip wobbled again, but she took another bite of her cookie to hide it.

"But what about daddy?"

"He's being super safe," I assured her. "He's being extra careful so he doesn't get sick, but he's being really brave and helping all the people who do get sick so they get better faster."

"I know," She sighed. "But on the TV a doctor said that they needed more masks 'cause there wasn't enough for everyone so what if daddy doesn't have a mask?"

"Your daddy does have a mask." It was a fairly empty assurance to make as I really wasn't sure, but from what I'd seen no first responders were completely out of supplies just yet. "And there's lots of people working really hard to make sure that they don't run out."

She stared me down for a moment, trying to suss out if I was telling the truth, but eventually gave up and looked back down at her cookie.

"Mummy's really sad too," She told me. "So I try to be brave and not be sad so she doesn't get even more sad, but sometimes I just have to be."

If the sight of her crying hadn't crushed my heart before then that comment certainly did. I put my spoon down on my plate and went around the counter to sit next to her. She didn't look up so I reached out and took her tiny hand in mine.

"Look at me for a sec," I requested, my voice soft. She did as I asked and I saw fresh tears in her eyes. "You don't ever have to be strong like that, okay? Not around me or your mum or your nana and pops. If you're feeling sad or worried or upset at all then you can talk to any of us. We're all a little sad and scared right now, but it's always better to get through things together, right?"

She nodded and I wiped away a tear that was sliding slowly down her cheek before kissing her forehead.

"Thanks, Aunt Cookie."

"Anytime, monkey," I smiled. "Was your cookie good?"

She grinned at that and nodded frantically.

"Can Mr. Teddy have one too?"

I laughed at her cheeky request knowing that Mr. Teddy was just a cover for her wanting another, but I shook my head.

"How about Mr. Teddy just finishes mine?"

There were only a few bites left, it wouldn't be as bad as her having a whole new cookie so as she nodded in agreement, I slid the plate over and let her finish it.

"Are you feeling better now?" I asked after she was done as I wiped her fingers and her mouth with a cloth.

"Yes," She said quietly, clearly with something else on her mind. I waited to see if she would elaborate and after a quiet moment, she did. "Do you think we could call daddy?"

"I think we probably can," I nodded. "Why don't you get back in bed and I'll go ask your mummy if he's working tonight."

She agreed and scurried off back towards her bedroom, leaving me the less than pleasant job of telling Cassie about what had happened. I knocked on her door, knowing she would still be awake as it was only eleven o'clock and went in once she answered.

"Hey," She smiled, putting her book down on the bed beside her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured her. "But Molly's having a tough time. She just came into the kitchen crying because of some things she overheard on the news."

Cassie paled at that information.

"What did she say?"

"She just asked about people getting sick," I told her as I sat on the end of the bed. "And she heard something about the doctors running out of supplies so she was worried about Josh having a mask."

"Oh god," She sighed. "What did you tell her?"

"I said that I knew her daddy would be careful and that I was sure he had a mask." I braced myself for the next part as I knew it would be hard for her to hear. "But she also said that she knows you're sad so she can't show that she's sad too because she doesn't want to make things worse for you."

Cassie's face fell again at that news and for a moment I thought she was about to cry herself.

"Oh my god, I'm the worst mother in the world," She groaned. "I thought I was hiding it well. I can't believe she didn't think she could talk to me about this."

"It's not your fault," I assured her. "She's too smart for her own good."

"Yes, she is," She laughed half-heartedly. "Is she okay now?"

"I think so," I nodded. "She definitely calmed down, but she was wondering if she could talk to Josh. I told her I'd ask you if he was working."

"He's not," She sighed again. "I'll go have a chat with her and we can give him a call. Thanks for helping her, Brooke."

"Anytime. It's nice to be around when she needs a hug."

Cassie swung her legs off the bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

"She really looks up to you," She smiled. "I'm sure it meant a lot to her that you talked it over with her."

I almost teared up at that as it had meant a lot to me too that she trusted me enough to come to me when she needed comfort.

"I just hope I helped a bit," I shrugged as we headed out the door. "And if she says anything at all about a cookie and some ice cream, she's definitely lying."

"I knew I could smell baking!" She laughed. "I'll be down to get some after I'm done with Molly."

I promised to save her a few as she cracked open Molly's bedroom door and I headed back to the kitchen, hoping to catch Henry before he went to bed.

****

Once I got back to the kitchen, I opened my laptop again and poured myself another glass of wine as it turned back on. Once it was ready, I called Henry and he answered almost right away.

"Hi there," He smiled. "Everything okay?"

I took a large sip of my wine before I nodded.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I think so. My niece apparently heard some things on the news that shocked her and with her dad being a paramedic she needed a bit of assurance."

"Ah, yes, I could see how that makes things more complicated..."

"It was brutal," I frowned. "She's sitting there crying because she heard about all the deaths and how there's a shortage of protective equipment, but it's hard to explain to her. I don't want to lie, but I also don't want to say 'yeah, thirty-five thousand people have died in the UK and loads more probably will before this is all sorted out so keep washing your hands or you will too'."

Henry chuckled at my dramatic simplification of what was happening.

"Yes, I would imagine that's probably not wise to say to a child under ten," He smiled. "But I'm guessing you handled it well?"

"I hope so," I took another sip of wine. "I managed to stop her crying, but the warm cookies and ice cream might have had more to do with that than my words of wisdom."

"I'm sure you did your best," Henry assured me with a smile. "We had a similar issue here the other day. George was just very fed up with the whole situation and demanded to know why he wasn't allowed to see any of his friends. It took ages to calm him down."

"It's so hard!" I sympathized. "They're all going to end up so traumatized from going through this in their formative years."

"Probably, but hopefully they'll come out stronger because of it."

I couldn't help, but smile at his positivity as I took yet another gulp of wine.

"I hope so because otherwise there's going to be a generation of emotionally stunted people who are scared to get within two metres of each other."

"Let's hope that's not the case," Henry laughed. "But I have another pressing question."

I raised an eyebrow at that.

"Oh, do you?"

"Aunt Cookie?" He questioned. "Is that some play on you being a baker?"

It took me a minute to realize what he was talking about and then it dawned on me.

"No, it's not," I laughed. "My mum calls me Brookie and Cassie struggled to say it when she was little so growing up she always called me Cookie. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but that's why Molly calls me that."

"That's really cute," Henry smiled. "And a very fitting nickname for a baker."

"It is," I agreed. "It used to drive me insane when I was a child, but it's grown on me over the years."

"I always wanted a fun nickname, but all I got was Fat Cavill!”

I burst out laughing at that as it was so unexpected from the muscled man in front of me, but I covered my mouth, realizing it was rude to laugh at such a cruel name.

"Were they being ironic?" I asked, shaking my head. "How could anyone think you're fat?"

"I haven't always looked like this," He admitted. "I was chubby when I first went off to boarding school and kids can be very mean."

"That is true, but now you're Superman so fuck them all."

Henry laughed and nodded his head.

"Exactly!"

I smiled at his proud grin before glancing down at the time.

"Well," I sighed. "I should probably get some sleep. Sorry our conversation was interrupted."

"Don't worry about it at all," Henry assured me. "Sounds like it was for an important reason."

"It was," I nodded. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," He smiled. "Goodnight, Cookie."

I stuck out my tongue at the nickname before saying goodnight and hanging up.

I had the usual sense of contentment that I had after a conversation with Henry, but there was a heaviness to it tonight. It was easy sometimes to block it all out and focus on the good that had come out of this pandemic. Meeting Henry, having time to relax, getting to spend time with my family. But in the end, the bad stuff always crept back in. The worry about the future, the sadness of how many lives had been lost and how many would be by the time this was over and now, the impact it was having on Molly and other children like her. She was a pretty tough kid and it was hard to see her crumble like she had tonight. She had a good support system though and I knew in the end she would come out of this mess okay so I picked my laptop up off the counter and headed to bed, trying to keep my thoughts positive and hoping that tomorrow would be a brighter day.

[drowninginblox]

Thrown into it

Part: 1,2,3,4

Part 6

I just want to say, whoever shopped for my change of clothes- thank you so fucking much. I mean I really thought I wouldn’t be able to pull off ripped jeans but.. I think I look great! Especially how the shirt contrasts how light they are. Oh wait let me clarify. In the bag were some light blue jeans, a white shirt that was a little big on me, some black shoes with orange butterflies, a hair tie, the necessities, and a letterman jacket. Don’t worry I’m all dressed! The only thing missing from this outfit is the jacket. But I'm a little perturbed by it. Like- the more that I look at it, the more I wonder if this is Mirio’s. I mean it's dark blue with white sleeves and white symbols on it. Or are they logos? What I mean is that it looks like the one he wore to the school’s culture festival at the end of season 4. 

Wait.. what if this is Mirio’s? What if he gave this to Mic so he could give it to me? My face flushed at the thought. Me wearing Mirio’s jacket.. What would it feel like? What would it smell like..? I hesitate to grab the jacket, eventually doing so and lifting it to my nose. Wait a minute- what the fuck am i doing? This could be his jacket and here I am being a creep! Why am I like this? He might be cute but no way in hell am I gonna turn into Toga! “Stop thinking about him!” I throw the jacket over my shoulder before hiding my face in my hands. “Stop with that shit!” I remind myself. “He is out of our league! Real or not!”

“Who?” I jump at a familiar voice. “What the fuck man!” I turn to see the hot mess known as Present Mic along with a smiling Nezu in the doorway. Fuck that blonde bastard and shit eating grin. I inhale sharply at the scene I just made all the while silence hangs over us. “Im so sorry.” I mumble, my head hanging down. “I- If I knew you were there I wouldn't have sworn sir.” The small principal laughs light heartedly while Mic chuckles at my suffering. “Y/n, my name is principal Nezu of UA.” He says calmly. I raise my head to properly see him. “Some of my staff have met you and you seem to know them. I can not interfere in the government’s  investigation of you, however I am allowed to ask on behalf of my staff how you know them along with some other questions in order to assist.” The mousy man explains. “For example, we will be escorting you to a safe place for you to stay.” He looks up at Present Mic with a smile. “Can you escort Y/n to the car?” He asked. Well, it’s framed as a question but it sounded more like an order. But Hizashi wasn't complaining, at least as far as I know since he nodded with his signature, enthusiastic smile. Once Nezu left the door frame, Mic turned his attention to me. “Got what you need?” Mic asks. I glance over to the jacket, abandoned on the bed. “Hold on.” I say as I go to get it but when I get to the bed it isn’t there. “What the..?” I begin to question only to be stopped by light. Not white light, it was a light yellow- almost gold in color- forming around my chest in the shape of the jacket. “Uhhhhhh-!” In a matter of seconds the light fades and the jacket appears on me. It's a little big but so warm. Almost like a hug from a family member or friend that you haven't seen in awhile. I look back to see Mic in awe at what I just did. “What did-?”

“Dude dont ask me cus I have no idea!” I say to defend myself. From the lower, right hand corner of the door frame, Nezu popped his head back into view. “Did I miss something?” Mic nods his head while I shake mine, both of us dumbfounded at what just transpired. He looks between the two of us and chuckles, leaving us once again. “I-” I start but he just shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Nope. Not right now. Let’s just go.” He decides and leaves. Seeing as I have nowhere else to go, I follow him.

Walking through the hospital is weird in itself. Partially because I don't remember entering along with the fact that seeing people with animal or alienistic attributes to them isnt something I’m used to yet. Accompanied with all the smells and sounds that come with hospitals, it just is a big nope for me. Some people don't like heights, some people don't like tight spaces, others dont like bugs- “Hey are you okay? You sound like one of my students.” Speaking of. “Huh?” I look around. Couples, families, some people alone sit in chairs while women at desks work quietly. In front of us is a sliding, glass door leading to the world I seem to be stuck in. “Are you coming?” He asks with a hint of concern in his voice. “Oh-um.. Y-yeah. Just grapelling with this again.” I try to calm myself with a laugh. “Again?” He prompts, lowering his shades a little. Woah look at those eyes. Since when did he have heterochromia? I thought he had red or green eyes..? “Uh, kid? You’re spacing out again.” He points out. I jump “Fuck- sorry!” I apologize. “Hey, hey, it's okay! Just got worried that you were trying to bail on us.” It takes me a moment to register what he said but once I did snort at that. “Me? Try to bail on pro heros? Does it look like I am insane?” I ask. The blonde takes a moment to stare. He sighs, taking his shades off to stare at me. Again what are those eyes? He looks up and down at me before I break the silence “You’re a Christmas boi.” I mumble under my breath. He narrows his eyes as a smile teases his lips. “W-what?” He says through a laugh. “You have red and green eyes! You’re a Christmas boi!” I smile wide at my declaration. The sleek, black, car beside us opens a door. Once again Nezu poked his head out for us to see. “I’m sorry to interrupt but we are on a schedule.” He reminds us. We apologize and rush into the car. 

This car is packed for what it was. Mic was in shotgun while I was behind the driver. It’s so weird having everything be backwards. Nezu sat right beside me and on his right was pro hero Snipe. Nezu faces me- which was weird in itself since I’ve only seen three- fourths of his face most of the time- and smiles kindly. Before I could say anything he turns his head to Snipe. “Y/n, this is Snipe. He is a teacher at UA. If the government allows it, you will be seeing him again.” The pro remains straight laced from what I can tell. His gas mask leaves much to the imagination. “And if you don't mind looking at our driver,” Nezu adds with a point of his paw. I look through the right rear view mirror to see the helmet of none other than arbor day himself. “Woods!” I shouted, starling everyone in the car to the point of jumping in their seat. “You know him too?!” Mic exhorts, his shades crooked from my excitement. “Of course!” I confirm. “Dude is amazing! So underrated, so little screen time!” Kamui sighs and sits up. “And to think I was getting away from fangirls..” He mumbles. “Sorry! I’ll tone it down. It’s bad enough Mic is in the car.” I apologize with a smile at what I did. “Hey!” Mic yells. From Nezu’s side Snipe gives off what I can only assume is a snort. “Not you too!” The blonde whines. Kamui only starts the car with a sigh, pulling us out of the hospital and out onto the open highway. “The kid has a point Hizashi, you know damn well it's true!” He says through his laughter. “It’s not! Nezu back me up here!” Mic pleads. I laugh when I turn to see the tiny principal with comically wide, Allmight headphones covering his ears. Snipe laughs louder while Mic continues to call on Nezu to help only for it to fall on deaf ears. Kamui- from what I can see- just taps his fingers on the wheel muttering about the situation he’s in. Poor man needs a couch and a blanket. “Hey, um.. Mr. Woods? Woods?” He sighs. “Kamui is fine.” He assures. His eyes glance back at me through the mirror. “What made you want to be a hero?” I ask with a cock of my head like an airhead would. He chuckles a little. “Its a long story..” He assures. “And it isn’t all that interesting. And I don't think I should tell you.”  I shrug my shoulders. “Doesn't matter if it is or isn’t interesting. I only know you for your quirk. And your pro hero status. There is always more behind a title.” He rolls his head for a minute and exhales. “Okay but you could be a little brat who could tell everyone.”

“True, but I don't know anyone outside of UA, and surely you've been asked this before?”

He takes a moment and sighs again. “Well, okay. But only because it’s gonna be a while. It's not that interesting though.” He restates as if to ask me if I’m sure. I scoot up a little in my seat like a child, making him chuckle again. “Okay! Okay!” His slumping spine is straightened again. “I didn't really know what I wanted to be when I was younger. My dad said I should be a carpenter.” I chuckle. “Really?” He nods. “Yeah, either that or a fireman. But looking back on it-”

“Fire and wood?” I questioned with a look. He laughs. “I know! If it wasn't for the money that came with being a hero he would’ve insisted. And I would’ve been one too if it wasn't for my sister.” I put an elbow on my knee. “Now what did she do?” A noise of amusement makes its way out of him. “It wasn't all her fault!” He defended. “Well what happened?” 

“On Christmas eve, I was about 13. My sister comes running in saying that the family cat ran away. My dad was drunk on the couch and my mom was still making dinner so she didn't hear her. She begged me to help her find the poor thing. So me, being the amazing brother I am- put on my coat and walked out into the freezing cold with nothing but a flashlight. My family lived right next to this deep forest and in that forest is a lake. I walk to the lake to see the cat meowing at some frozen water.” I nod along. “I look too over at it and see a person banging against the ice! So without hesitation I grow a branch larger than anything I have ever made at that point and shatter the ice with it. Later helping out the guy who was trapped under there.” My eyes widened at that. “Woah! Who was the guy?” He shrugged. “He told me he was a friend of one of the neighbors. There were some parties around so I didn’t question it. He went on his way, and I found satisfaction in helping him.” A smile found its way in his voice, now warm and calm behind the wheel. “I guess you could say without him you wouldn't be here.” I conclude. He nods his head. “Wow woods. I didn’t know that was why.” Snipe commented, making me jump. “Y-You-!” Woods stumbled over himself. “Since when did you guys-”

“A third of the way into your story.” Mic pipped. “That's very selfless of you.” 

“O-Oh.. Thank you.” Arbor boy mumbled. “Oh! We’re here!”

[missyriver]

The Gift (fanfic)

Merry Holiday's Friends:

This is my official first Kdrama fanfic (be kind). I got to play Santa for @eunsjisoo by @kdramanetwork. I'm a huge fan of Fight For My Way and this OTP. Here is a little holiday fluff to enjoy. Follow me her or for more kdrama love @kdramama​

Also tagging some of my favorite Kdrama addicts.  @mel-loves-kdramas @kdramaxoxo @kdramaomo @sirlairla @tea-and-autumn​ @so-jjang​ @florence-bubbles​ 

"I need you," the voice desperate on the line.

"I know what you want and I can't help you," she said slightly distracted. 

"You can't or you won't!?" He demanded.

"Three days before Christmas it's the same thing. This is your problem, you need to figure it out."

"You are the only one that can help me. She is your friend."

"You've known her longer than I have and she is you wife." 

"It our first Christmas together as a couple. Last year I gave her a CD and a bag of chocolate. She threw the CD at me and ate the chocolates. How was I supposed to remember I gave her the same CD for her birthday." He whined.

"That is exactly why I am not helping you. She'll know if I helped and then we will both pay for it. She been extra moody lately and I am not going to get on her bad side."

"Seol-Hee," he drew out her name his voice high.

“Dong-man,” his long time friend mocks in a sing song voice.

“Give me a hint? Has she said she wanted anything? I new rice cooker? A toaster? Coffee Maker?”

“Are you kidding? Do you want Ae-ra to kill you? You said everything you definitely should not give. I’m surprised you didn’t add treadmill,” she sighed over the phone.

“Did she say she wanted a treadmill?” He asked hopeful. He was starting to make good money training at the gym. 

“No!” Seol-hee yells into the phone. “Give her something from the heart and she will like it.”

“That is not helping,” he groans.

“Well it's the best I can offer because I will not, can not help you.”

She hung up the phone and his last chance of easy shopping was lost. Dong-man cursed under his breath and looked around. He has known Ae-ra for most of his life and he has never been able to give her a gift she really wanted. He had no idea how he has been able to convince her to marry him. 

As soon as she agree he rushed them along to get married scared she change her mind. They moved into a her bigger apartment and Seol-hee took over his. He retired from fighting as promised and started coaching. People were coming from all over the country to work with him. Ae-ra announcing career was off to a promising start. The talent he’d always know she had been recognized by others. He always made sure to make video recordings of everyone of her broadcast. 

Dong-man knew he needed to get her something special but no matter how many years he knew his best friend Ae-ra he was still getting use to his wife Ae-ra. They still argued, still teased each other but now fights ended with kisses and teasing leads to the bedroom. 

The store he chose had everything from home goods to cosmetics and not one thing screamed his wife. Frustrated he shoved his hand in his sweatshirt and hunches his shoulders to stomp out of the store. A flash of light stops him. He looks down into the glass counter his heart beats faster. 

For the first time in twenty years he had found the perfect gift and she would not out do him.

Dong-man was the first one to wake up Christmas morning. He looked down at his sleeping wife. Most days she’d be the first one up demanding the first shower in the last few weeks she started sleeping in. Fighting a stomach bug the drained her and messed with her appetite. He made her promise to go to the doctor after the holidays are over if she did not get better. 

He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before crawling out of bed. The dark circles under her eyes worried him and he wanted her to sleep as much as she could. They had plans to meet up with their friends later and a visit to her father this weekend. All in all, it was the perfect way to spend their first holiday together. 

An hour later Ae-ra dragged herself out of bed. Her hair stuck up in different angles. She rubbed a hand over her stomach and grumbled. She sat down at their small table and shoved the plate of eggs and rice away. 

“Just toast, I can’t even look at eggs today,” she mumbled. 

She took small sips of water and small nibbles of toast. 

Dong-man reached out and pressed his hand to her forehead. His body relaxed when she didn’t appear to have a fever. 

“Did you make an appointment for the doctor?” He asked concerned. 

“Already went early this week. I should be fine in a few weeks.”  

He dropped his spoon. “Weeks, he said weeks. Is this a real doctor? Did he give you anything to help you keep food down? Or tell you what’s wrong?”

She shoved toast in her mouth, eyes wide and nodded.

“I’m fine, I promise. What time are Seol-hee and Joo-man coming over?” 

Dong-man scowled at his wife's attempt to change the subject. He was not ready to let go of the idea that she could be sick and there is nothing he can do to help her. His biggest fear is losing her and watching her get sick day after day was driving him crazy.

“After noon I believe. They were going to make a few deliveries around town first. I think they just wanted to give us some private time.”

Dong-man stood from his chair and reached out his hand to her. She took his hand and stepped into his warm embrace. His chin resting on her head. 

“In case I don’t tell you enough, I love you. I am the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side and I will spend my life loving you.” 

She snuggled closer tightened her arms around his waist and sniffled. 

“Why you have to go and make me cry first thing this morning?” 

“Hey, don’t cry Ae-Ra. Come here,” he coaxed her toward the couch. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. She snuggled into him rubbing her nose on his shirt. 

Dong-man smiled, he dragged and hand over her hair. Laying the curls down and calming her emotions. He reached under the pillow and pulled out the small box and placed it on her lap.

“Merry Christmas,” he said with a kiss on her forehead. 

“It better not be another, EXO CD.” She said with a chuckle.

“You like EXO and this is too small to be a CD.” 

“If this is an MP3 player with EXO I will also kick your ass.”

“Again I know you like EXO so stop pretending and just open it.” Dong-man grumbled.

Impatient she tore the brightly colored paper. A small velvet box sat in her hands. She slowly lifted the lid and gasped. 

Inside was a rose gold microphone pendant encrusted with tiny diamonds on a rose gold chain. The microphone was delicate. Ae-Ra started to cry again. 

“Those are good tears right?! I did good? I can go get the new EXO album you’ve been dancing too.” She shakes her head and flingers her arms around him.

“It’s good, it’s very good. I love it.”

“I am so proud of you and just wanted everyone to know.” 

“You are at every one of my announcements and I believe you cheered louder for me then anyone there for the actual fight. No matter how many times you deny it I know you created the Ae-ra fan club on Instagram."

He rolls his eyes and shrugs,  "I will always be your biggest fan."

She kisses him soundly on his lips then each cheek. Before crawling off his lap. He reached up for her trying to pull her back down for more kisses. She dodged his outstretched arms and grabbed a small box out from under their tiny tree. 

"There is no way your going to top my gift this year. You may have reigned supreme for years but I have this one in the bag," he bragged.

She handed him box a smug smile on her face. 

"We will see about that, just open the box."

Dong-man open to box. Under the lid was a black and white blurry picture he couldn't make out. He pulled back the tissue paper. Inside is two little red shoes. A folded white shirt tucked under  the shoes with big bold letters saying "hi daddy." 

He dropped the box and jumped to his feet. His eyes wide, mouth open words trapped in his chest. Tears welled in his eyes and fell to his knees in front of her. He pressed kisses to her stomach while wrapping his arms around her. 

"Seriously!? Really your preg.." he choked on the word. His throat closing up with overwhelming emotions.

"I'm eight weeks and the doctor said the baby and I are fine." She lifted the box up and pulled of the picture he ignored. "Here is the first picture of our baby. No bigger than a blueberry."

"A blueberry," he said in awe. "You win, I can never beat this gift."

"Technically you gave it to me first." She said with a slight smile.

Ae-ra drops down to wrap her arms around him. They are laughing, crying though their sloppy kisses. Dong-man lifts her up into his arms walked back into their room and gently places her on the bed.

"Can we still…?"

"We can definitely still do that." 

Dong-man kick the door shut and spent the rest of the day celebrating the world's best gift and the woman that made it possible.

"You don't think he gave her another CD and she killed him?" Joo-man asked. 

They had been standing at their friends door for almost 20 minutes knocking with no answer. The phone calls sent straight to voicemail. Seol-hee had avoided the newlyweds home unless invited scared she walk in at the wrong time.

"I doubt it, at least I hope so. I am terrible at lying and haven't updated my alibi list since they got married."

"Want to go get something to eat and watch a movie?" Joo-man offered. 

"I pick the movie." She said with a toss of her hair walking down stairs toward the main street.

"Yes, of course, whatever you want."

Joo-man dropped the gifts at the door knocked once more before chasing after her. The small box burning a hole in his pocket. 

[cluttermind]

Without A Parachute (5/?) - Never Alone

Summary:  Emma worked tremendously hard to give herself a better chance. From group homes, to living in her car, to ivy league student, this English Major’s only solace was escaping her reality through books. One night, Emma comes home to find a small package with only her name on it written in beautiful calligraphy. The package contains a thick, brown leather journal. Emma soon learns that the fiction she writes in the journal eventually becomes reality. Will Emma learn to control this gift, or will she fall too fast into the temptation to change too much? With the help of her good friends August, Robin, and Elsa, and the mysterious, intriguing bartender of The Jolly Roger, Emma discovers just how easy it is to lose control, and how difficult it is to pick up the pieces.

Rating: M

Words: 17,806 total / 3,675 Ch 5

Read on ao3: Beginning | Current

Note: Thank you all for reading! I really appreciate it! I struggled SO MUCH with this particular chapter, rewrote the ended 4 times and before even writing it I had plotted multiple different ways this one could’ve gone. I hope you enjoy the sweet moments between Emma and Elsa and Emma and Killian!

//

Chapter 5

“Never Alone”

When the good times go bad

When the tears start to flow

You can ever be glad

You're never alone

You're never alone

And when you're lost out at sea

And the winds chill your bones

You can count on me

You're never alone

- Nathan Angelo, Count On Me

I was in the library. The mutterings in the halls that day were filled with news that Ivies had started to send out decisions. A mix of my classmates had been accepted, rejected, and waitlisted. All I wanted was to get out of this town on her own accord, make her own decisions, and finally have control.

I was at one of the computers, email and password typed in. I couldn’t bring myself to hit enter. I didn’t want to face the likely disappointment that waited for me on the other side of the log-in screen. What Ivy League would want an orphan who had to live in her tiny Bug just to have a consistent transcript? What Ivy League want’s a girl who’s gotten busted for shoplifting more times than she could count because she needed to eat? What Ivy League would want someone like me?

“Emma dear, what’s wrong?” I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard her voice behind me.

“Mary Margret.” I sighed, turning to her. Mary Margret was the one who helped me apply for application fee waivers, fill out my college applications, study for my AP exams and SAT exams. She was the only person who ever really cared about me. “Ivies apparently started to send out decisions.”

She set her hands on my shoulders. “Let’s find out for ourselves, shall we?” I clicked the log in button and held my breath.

Congratulations, Emma Swan! We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted to . . .

Yale.

Columbia.

Harvard.

Cornell.

My eyes were wide. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Mary Margret nearly yelled behind me, releasing her grip on my shoulders only to wrap her arms around me. Tears began falling down my face.

“I got almost a full scholarship to Cornell.” I had to say the words out loud. Otherwise, it would’ve felt too much like a dream.

“I told you, Emma! I’m so proud of you!”

Proud. No one had ever told her they were proud of her.

“I have something for you.” Mary Margret said before scurrying back to the librarian desk. She returned with a small black jewelry box. “I wanted to give it to you for your graduation but I just can't wait!”

I opened the box and inside was a beautiful, dainty 14K gold necklace with a gold book charm. “It’s beautiful. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to. You’re a very special girl, Emma.”

***

Emma didn’t remember much as she started to come back to herself. Her dream had brought her back to a time where she was happy, a time where she felt loved and safe. The last thing Emma remembered was Killian’s eyes. Her eyes felt heavy as she struggled to open them and her throat felt dry as she struggled to speak.

“Killian?”

Elsa looked up from where she was sitting in a chair next to the bed Emma was in. “It’s Elsa,” she said, gently. “Killian’s just outside with August.”

Emma finally opened her eyes to see her friend. She was wrapped in comfortable sheets and a fluffy comforter. Sitting up in the unfamiliar bed, she looked around the room and didn’t recognize anything. “Where am I?”

“You’re in Killian’s apartment.” The curtains drawn over the doors threw her off. The last time she was in his apartment they were open and the glass doors gave the illusion that the apartment was bigger than it was. Elsa moved to sit on the bed next to Emma. “Do you remember anything that happened last night?”

Elsa had changed. She was in leggings and a sweatshirt. Her roommate had brought her a bag with a change of clothes along with Emma’s bag that was left in their dorm. Emma, however, was still in her dress and jacket from last night. Last night. She had a few drinks, over a few hours, enough that she was tipsy but not enough that she was drunk. Except she was, when she left. And a man . . . Her head was killing her, every inch of her body was in pain. She felt like she had been hit by a truck.

Emma swallowed hard, pulling her jacket tighter around her. “I don’t know.” Elsa handed her the glass of water that was on the nightstand. Emma slowly took a sip and set it down again.

“Emma,” Elsa took a deep breath, her tears pooling in her eyes. “You left the bar, you said you had a headache. You left your phone on the bar though. Killian ran out once he noticed it and tried to catch up to you. He saw some guy holding you and . . . dragging you along with him.” Elsa took a deep breath, trying to be strong for her friend. “God, I heard him scream over the music. He said the guy tossed you to the ground and you hit your head. You passed out and we brought you up here.”

Everything was rushing back to Emma faster than rocks fall during a landslide. She felt like she was being buried under the weight of the fear, the pain, the guilt that consumed her. “I didn’t drink that much,” Emma said, defensively, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Emma. No one is blaming you. None of this is your fault.” Elsa sighed and gently rested her hand on top of her friend’s. Emma couldn’t stand to be touched though. She felt wrong. She felt dirty. She felt like a shell of the person she was before. Because that’s what this created. It was a wall that divided her life, her being, her soul. There was a before. Before she let herself feel free for a night. Before she let herself lose a little control and dress a little sexier and let herself feel happy. Emma realized that she was in the after. After being unable to fight back. After choosing to leave alone. After the damage. Damaged. The word kept popping back up into her head, poisoning the memories that, on any other occasion, would be on constant replay like a new favorite song. Flashbacks of kissing Killian on a make-shift dance floor. Damaged. Flashbacks of his arms wrapped tightly around her. Damaged. Flashbacks of their shameless flirting. Damaged. Flashbacks of the desire she had seen in the deep blue of his eyes. Damaged.

Elsa watched as her best friend battled a war behind her eyes. There was nothing to say in that moment could have made anything better. The light was out in Emma’s eyes. Her green eyes usually shined bright, as if Emma had something to prove in every single thing she did, as if she was always in control, as if she was always simultaneously day dreaming and living a life she had dreamed of. It was a light that was unique to Emma. That day, that light was trapped behind a new darkness.

“You’re okay, Emma. You’re safe now. I promise,” was all Elsa could manage.

“If Killian hadn’t . . .” Emma’s voice trailed off.

“But he did. And you’re safe.”

Emma nodded and her gaze turned to her hands. Elsa sat with her friend for a while in silence before finally speaking again. “Do you want me to get Killian?”

Emma hesitated before shaking her head no. She wasn’t ready for him to see her this broken. All at once she needed more time and needed him with her.

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

Emma shook her head again.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Emma squeezed her eyes shut as tears started to fall. She shook her head no and leaned into Elsa, her head resting on Elsa’s shoulder. Elsa’s arms wrapped around her, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let it out, Emma.” Emma’s entire body shook with sobs. Tears started to escape from Elsa’s eyes as well. She was crying with and for her friend. They were best friends nearly instantly. They danced out their feelings together. They aggressively binged Grey’s Anatomy together (hence the dancing it out). Emma went to protests and rallies just to support Elsa. Elsa was always the first person who read anything Emma wrote. They mocked sexism in literature and praised classical feminist authors together. They ate lunch together as often as possible. When one of them was hurt, the other was hurt.

Killian and August heard Emma crying from the other room. Killian swore he felt his heart break in his chest.

“She’ll be okay,” August noted.

***

Elsa eventually emerged from Killian’s bedroom when the sun was starting to set, closing the door behind her. Killian immediately stood up and turned to her.

“How is she?” He asked. He hadn’t slept at all. His hair was tousled from running his hands through it all night. He, August and Elsa had taken turns sitting with Emma while she was out so that they could each try and get some sleep and so that someone was always with Emma. Robin tried to come when he finally emerged from his rendezvous with Regina but Elsa convinced him they had it handled and that he should enjoy his Sunday. Of course he was incapable of that, though, and unbeknownst to the rest of them, spent the day perusing the internet on his laptop in the pub, waiting for one of them to eventually come down. None of them were able to stomach the thought of eating anything.

Elsa sighed. “She’ll be okay. She probably needs food and a shower, likely some Advil. She shouldn’t go to class tomorrow, she really needs to rest.”

August’s stomach growled. “I think we all need food.”

“Why don’t you guys head downstairs and eat something? It’s on the house. I think Ruby should be managing.” Killian said, pulling his phone out to text Ruby to give them anything they want for free. “I can stay with Emma and make sure she eats something.”

Elsa nodded. “She was asking about you before I left. I think August and I can head out if you think you’re okay here? I put her bag in your room. There should be a change of clothes and shoes, her journal, her laptop, and her macro textbook but don’t let her read it. Tell her to take a break for once.”

“Thank you,” Killian said. “I’ll keep you updated.”  Elsa threw her bag over her shoulder and they said goodbye. When the door to his apartment closed, Killian slowly opened the door to his bedroom, poking his head in. “Emma?” He asked, softly, his accent thick with concern. Closing the door behind him, Killian walked to sit at the foot of the bed.

Emma was laying on her side curled up under the covers, her face nearly buried in the pillow. She breathed in the faintly familiar scent of Killian lingering on the pillowcase. “Killian?” She managed when she finally found her voice. The way his name felt on her lips gave her a shimmer of hope that this darkness enveloping her would fade eventually.

Killian let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and rested his hand over her foot. “I’m here, love.” Emma turned to look at him, all the words she wished she could day racing around her mind. Thank you, she thought. Thank you. Don’t leave. I need you. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t . . .

His voice pulled her out of her spiral. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll find you some fresh clothes to change into,” he suggested.

She nodded, slowly sliding out of the comfort of the covers. Everything hurt when she stood. A hot shower was exactly what she needed. Killian motioned to the door that led to his bathroom.

“There’s a clean towel on the back of the door. Just turn the knob towards you to make the water hotter and use whatever’s in there.”

Emma made her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The feeling of being alone started to sink in as she turned the water on in the shower, allowing it to get hot before she’d step in. She slid her jacket off and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That’s when she saw it.

Her hair was a mess and her eyes were a little red from crying. On her upper left arm there was a large bruise, wrapping almost entirely around her bicep. Her hand moved to gently brush over it. On contact, Emma winced and remembered. She remembered him grabbing her arm, holding her against him. She remembered how he tightened his grip multiple times. But now, looking in the mirror that was slowly starting to fog, she realized that he had both taken her necklace, the only gift she had ever gotten in her entire life, and branded her. He had marked her and taken a token. He damaged her. Damaged. The realization that he had left his mark on her made Emma sick. She dashed to the toilet, violently throwing up, as if her body was rejecting any remnants of his touch.

Killian was pulling out some pajamas for Emma to change into when he heard her. Emma. Instinctively he ran to the bathroom, throwing the door open without bothering to knock. He kneeled behind her and pulled her hair back and out of her face, holding it with one hand while the other rubbed her back. Before she knew it, Emma was crying again, cheek resting on the cool porcelain of the toilet in front of her. Killian left a comforting kiss on the back of her shoulder. “You’re safe Emma, I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“He hurt me,” Emma choked between sobs. “He marked me.” Saying the words made her vomit again. Killian continued rubbing her back

“What?” While Killian’s voice was soft, he felt rage racing through his entire body. Then he noticed the bruise on her arm. “Oh Emma.” He rested his hand lightly over the mark. He wanted to kill the bastard who did this to her, who hurt her and he wanted to hit himself for letting him get away. “It’ll fade. You’re going to be okay. It’s just a bruise.” Emma froze at Killian’s touch. Warmth ran across her body. The gentleness of his hands was in stark contrast to the grip that bruised her. Emma wanted to bury herself in that touch and never have to feel that pain ever again. That’s what Killian’s touch was to her in that moment - safety, comfort, and a feeling of a promise that he would never hurt her. But how could someone like him ever want someone as broken, as damaged , as she was?

Killian reached forward, flushing the toilet before shifting his position so that he could pull Emma into his lap. He held her close against him, rocking her gently as she cried, stroking her hair. Emma clung to him, her hands fisting the material of his shirt and her face buried in his chest. “H-how could you - everything’s ruined,” she said between sobs.

“Love, what are you talking about?”

“Talk to me. Please.” Killian pleaded when Emma didn’t respond.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted. Emma knew there wasn’t really anything for Killian to leave exactly, but that kiss meant something in the before . She wanted it to mean something in the after too.

He kissed the top of her head and whispered, just loud enough for her to hear over the still-running water from the shower, “I’m not going anywhere. None of this changes anything.”

***

After Emma brushed her teeth and showered, she came out to find clothes that Killian left out for her neatly folded on the bed. He had left her a pair of plaid pajama pants and a soft, worn grey University of Oxford long-sleeve t-shirt. She had to roll the waistband of the pants a few times so she wouldn’t trip on them and the shirt’s sleeves were long enough on her that she could clutch the ends of them in her hands. Comfort washed over her when she was dressed, but a simple change of clothes, even Killian’s clothes, couldn’t erase the trauma replaying over and over again in her head.

So she crawled back into bed, slipping under the covers that she pulled up to her chin trying to hide from both the world and herself. Killian poked his head in moments later carrying two bowls, each with a fork in it. “Hey. I made you dinner, you should try to eat something.” Killian took the chair Elsa had been sitting in next to the bed and handed her a bowl of pasta. Emma sat up and took it, suddenly realizing that she was starving.

“Thank you,” she said, taking a bite.

“It was no trouble, love.”

“No.” Emma looked at him. “I mean thank you. For . . . “ her voice trailed off. Killian understood what she was saying. It was a thank you for everything: for protecting her, for letting her stay here, for taking care of her. For saving her.

“It’s no trouble, love.” They continued to eat in silence. Killian checked his phone a few times, answering texts from Emma’s friends and letting them know that she was okay, that he had gotten her to take a shower and to eat something. When they were finished he brought the bowls back into the kitchen. He needed a shower and a change of clothes desperately. Killian made his way back to the bedroom where Emma had curled into herself, hugging one of his pillows tight to her chest. After grabbing pajamas to change into, he slipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower and brush his teeth. He let the hot water run over him, relaxing his tense muscles for longer than he had planned.

Eventually, he emerged, dressed with damp hair that he pushed off his forehead. Emma hadn’t moved from her position on his bed. Killian walked over to place a gentle kiss on her temple. “Try and get some sleep, love.”

Emma looked up when he started to walk away. “Wait,” she said as he reached for the doorknob. Killian turned to look back at her, a little startled at the sound of her voice. “Please don’t go.”

“Emma -”

“I don’t want to be alone.” She couldn’t be alone with her thoughts conjuring up too many what ifs. When Killian was near, her mind calmed down. The what ifs that ended in the worst possible ways started to become the what ifs any girl with a crush day dreamed about. He was a welcomed respite from her fear, a beacon of light in what felt like endless darkness.

Slipping into bed next to her, he was cautious of the walls he knew she had put up. Killian laid on his side, facing Emma’s back. He rested a hand on her back to let her know he was there. Emma reached around and grabbed his hand, pulling him close to her as she held his arm tightly against her.

“You never have to be alone Emma,” he said. Her hair smelled like his shampoo. All he wanted to do was make her feel warm and safe. If he could take away all her pain he would.

When Killian finally fell asleep and after Emma had failed miserably to fall asleep, she snuck out of bed, grabbed her journal, and slipped out of the bedroom. The wave of emotions washing over her as she ran her hand over the soft, brown leather made her want to give into that darkness and drown in it. She couldn’t handle any of it anymore. Give it to the page, she thought. And so she did.

***

The one who will never be good enough. The one who never got the perfect job. The one who was stood up. The one who messes it all up. It was as if everyone could see clearly through their present dreams to their future realities.

If X is the one who’s rejected, whose career might be on the line, and Y is the one left waiting alone in the restaurant, whose heart breaks with every passing second, and Z is the one who drank too much to remember the night, whose clouded mind hurts the one next to him, then I am the one who’s never going to be good enough for the one next to me, whose damage will will make realize that she should be nothing more than a ship passing in the night soon to be forgotten amongst the rest of his mistakes.

***

Soon, Emma felt like she was able to breathe again. Although when that finally happened, she realized how exhausted she was from everything she had been through. So she crawled back into the bedroom, quietly as to not wake Killian who had rolled onto his back in his sleep. Emma smiled when she saw him, his features soft in sleep, his chest gently rising and falling with his breathing. It was then that Emma knew she was damned to keep falling for him and that there was no safety net to catch her. All either of them needed to do was jump.

Tiptoeing through the room, she slipped back under the covers and curled up against Killian, resting her head on his chest, comforted by the repetitive sound of his heartbeat.

“Hey,” Killian sighed sleepily, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close to him, too tired to open his eyes. “You okay?”

Avoiding the question of whether or not she was okay because, to be perfectly honest, she wasn’t entirely sure, she simply responded with “You’re warm.”  

Killian chucked, a soft, sleepy, comforting sound. “Are you cold, love?” Emma didn’t answer verbally. Instead she pressed a cold hand to his neck that he lazily swatted away. “Aye, you’re definitely cold.” He pulled the sheets and comforter up to her shoulders. “Try to get some sleep, Swan.”  

It didn’t take Emma long to fall asleep in Killian’s arms. After all the memories and the what ifs that had played over and over in her head all day, Killian must’ve been her dream catcher because for the rest of the night Emma didn’t dream.

[obwjam]

hear me out- Bucky having made friends with a borrower, and that borrower being tortured by HYDRA in order to bring back the winter solider

i have heard you. and i shall answer you. i actually LIVE for the “tiny comes from a place of torture and is rescued by a big friend” trope. like, absolutely obsessed. the dynamic is A++++++

(tw: mentions of blood, torture, guns)

taglist: @nightmarejasmine @burrpoetry @thepoolofthedead @the-original-space-cowboy @gttrash @smolkuriboh27 @bittykimmy @misfitsgalaxygt @a-black-pegasus @smol-jar-of-pickles @sanderssidestrash27 @snack-at-midnight@haveyouheardofborrowers @pomelo-chan @sammigruber @gttrash@tiefling-trickery @bittykimmy​ @random-sanders-dragon

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Bucky blamed himself.

There was no one else to blame. If he had never talked to you, you would have gone your whole life without getting into trouble. You would have kept borrowing peacefully, blissfully unaware that he knew your every move. He had been watching you for so long and you had no idea. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to finally meet the tiny that lived in his walls.

When he first saw you, he had no words. He had never seen something like you before. He watched in the shadows as you carried grapes in your arms like a giant beach ball. He was hardly upset; it was a treat just watching you do what you do.

He watched you for weeks. He found that you came out at the exact same time every night, because at that point, he was usually asleep. He never left food out on the counter per se, but he made sure to be a little extra clumsy while cooking from time to time. 

He was enthralled. He couldn’t stop. At some point, he figured, it bordered on creepy to watch you without knowing anything about you. It was hard pinning you down the first time he met you -- literally, he tried to pin you down -- but eventually, he found out the best way to talk to you was no grabbing and no looming.

You two were surprisingly similar. You were both pretty quiet and reserved, both had tough pasts. You both knew what it was like to lose friends and family. You knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t belong. 

Now, it all felt like a trap. Hydra had been hunting Bucky for months. They knew he now had the protection of the Avengers, so swooping in to attack him was no longer an option. Somehow, they needed to lure him back to their base.

And you were the perfect bait.

During a failed attack, Hydra had at least managed to bug the place to keep tabs on Bucky’s habits. They were pleasantly surprised to discover that he had a tiny companion that he seemed to be very fond of.

“P-please, s-stop-stop... “ you begged, but you knew it was worthless. You were going on your fifth--no, sixth?-- hour of torture. The first few hours, you just sat in a cage in a dark room. Complete and total isolation. The growing anxiety of when, who and what was coming for you next drove you into a panic so frantic that you spent a half hour trying to rip away at the cage’s wiry bars. 

Finally, when someone did show up, their presence was enough to make you cry. They opened the cage and lifted you up by your shirt, dangling you higher and higher in the air once they saw how furiously you kicked your legs. They moved their fingers from your shirt to your torso, spinning you around in the air as they observed you.

“What a sad little creature…”  they whispered, squeezing you incrementally harder and smirking as your face contorted from the pain. Your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your head as the air flew out of your lungs like a vacuum sucking up air. 

You were dumped onto tables, prodded with tools, flicked by fingers, gazed down upon by dozens of eyes and held in place by pieces of tape. Oh, the tape was the worst. All you could do was look straight into the eyes of your captors. They would rip off the tape and replace it with new strips for fun, just to watch the tears leak from your eyes. 

You knew exactly why they were doing this, too; Bucky had told you just about everything. There was a part of you that was begging him to come and save you -- you had never felt this kind of pain before. But that was Hydra’s intention. You had to be stronger than this. Your best friend’s life was at stake.

Bucky’s hair was whipping so fast he thought it might fall out. He hadn’t eased his grip on his handlebars since he got on his motorcycle. How could he let this happen? Why didn’t he just let you come with him on his grocery store trip? To think that your safety was his concern…

He kept repeating your name under his breath. To say it out loud, it was his only way of convincing himself you were still alive.

You cringed underneath the magnifying glass being held over you. The heat from the lamp above you and the way it filtered through the glass made you feel like you were sitting next to the sun. You could feel your clothes soaking with sweat.

There was a loud bang somewhere off in the distance. Men were screaming, guns were firing and boots were thumping.

He was here.

Bucky hadn’t felt this kind of fervor in a long time. He was barely thinking as he knocked out agent after agent. He didn’t even feel like he could be touched right now. He wouldn’t allow himself to be. He knew it was a trap, but his only goal was to rescue you.

“Where ARE THEY?!” he screamed as he fired bullets into the chest of another agent.

The doctors who were handing you looked up. They almost couldn’t believe the anger in Bucky’s voice. They knew you were important to him, but they may have underestimated just how important.

“BUCKY!!!” you screamed, knowing full well you’d be punished for it. “BUCKY! IN HERE! BUCKYYYYYYYYYYY!”

You suddenly felt the force of a giant hand over you. One of the doctors slammed his entire palm over you, intentionally pressing it against your body. You tried to scream, but couldn’t open your mouth. You were lucky to get some breaths in.

Bucky heard something small. It sounded like his name. He thought it could be even more of a trap -- that whatever voice he was about to follow wasn’t actually yours. But in this dark, damp facility, it was all he had to follow.

“You little rat,” the doctor hissed at his hand.

“Take your hand off them. If they die then he’ll go mad,” the other doctor insisted. 

“If he hears them, he’ll come in here,” the first doctor said, sounding nervous. “And we don’t want him to--”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. The door burst open and Bucky ran through, gun pointed. The two doctors cocked their guns in response, finally giving you some air. Bucky immediately saw you.

“What have you done to them,” he growled. He could see the glint of blood dripping from your head. 

“Nothing permanent,” the doctor snarled, chucking his gun aside to lunge at Bucky. Bucky blocked every punch and dodged every kick, holding his own in this two-on-one fight in the small room. He put his gun back in his pocket so he wouldn’t accidentally fire it at you. 

As the giant men fought, you squirmed in the tape. The more you wiggled, the more you could feel the stickiness wearing off. Even though the tape dragged and pulled at your skin like a dog pulls on a rope toy, you managed to get one of your legs free.

“Longing,” one of the doctors yelled in Russian. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“No,” he whispered, taking a swing at the doctor. He missed.

“Rusted,” the other doctor yelled next.

“NO!” Bucky took another wild swing.

“FURNACE!”

“STOP IT!” Bucky swiped, missing the head of the doctor narrowly. His force propelled him forward and he smacked into the desk where you were pinned down. You looked up in horror as the bookshelf on the desk started to shake. Luckily, nothing fell.

“(Y/N!)” Bucky gasped before the doctors spoke again.

“Bucky, what’s going on, what are they saying, what’s--”

“DAYBREAK!”

Bucky clutched his head, his breath picking up. He looked down at you, bleeding, sweating, crying and shaking. He hadn’t seen someone so roughed up in a long, long time.

“I’m sorry buddy, this shouldn’t have happened,” he breathed. “I should have just-- I should have protected you.”

“Stop,” you said, hiccuping between breaths. “Stop, stop. Don’t blame yourself. I’m glad you found me.”

Bucky smiled -- the closest thing he’s come to a smile in a long time, anyway -- as he turned his attention back to the doctors.

“Seventeen,” one of them said. Bucky’s hand was shaking as he reached for the gun in his pocket.

“Bucky, whatever it is, don’t listen to it,” you pleaded. “Please… please, I need you!”

Bucky shut his eyes, repeating your name in his head over and over. He felt the cool surface of the gun’s handle scrape his fingertips.

“Benign.”

A flash of pain went through his skull. He gripped the gun.

“Nine.”

“Homecoming.”

“One.”

“Freight c--”

Boom.

The first bullet flew right through the chest of the first doctor. Blood began slowly leaking from the circle wound as the doctor clutched his chest and staggered backwards. The other doctor was taken aback, giving Bucky enough time to put a bullet through his chest before he could utter the last word.

In an instant, the two doctors were slumped on the floor, lifeless. Bucky dropped his gun and ran over to you.

“Please, hold still,” he said, raising his shaking fingers to the edge of the tape. You closed your eyes and gritted your teeth as he peeled it back.

“OwowowowowOW!” you said impulsively. 

“Sorry, little guy,” Bucky muttered, moving over to the next strip. He felt guilty for hurting you.

“This--ah!--isn’t your fault,” you said, reading the guilt all over his face. Your jaw was quivering at the sight of his giant trembling fingertips inches from your face.

“Stop saying that,” Bucky said snidely. “Just let me get this off of you.”

You wondered why it hurt less getting the tape off your leg, until you tried to stand up. You had lost all feeling.

“Woah!” Bucky stuck his hand out, extending his pointer finger. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Well, I guess I can’t feel my left leg,” you said, pushing on his finger and using it to stand up. “That’s new.”

“Aw man,” he said, starting to twist his hands underneath you. “Can I…?”

You nodded, letting him take the pressure off you as he lifted you slowly into the air. You fell back into his palm and leaned back on his curved fingers. Staring up at his billboard-sized face freaked you out for a moment, if only because you were still reeling from what just happened.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Bucky mumbled as he stepped over the bodies of the doctors. He looked back down at them one last time, just to make sure.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said, staring down at the bodies with him. You had never seen a dead body before and you hoped you’d never have to again. “Y-you had no choice.”

“I should have never dragged you into this mess.”

“Bucky…” you sighed. “You, someone with a sick metal arm and literal superpowers, wanted to be friends with me. You thought I was cool. I still can’t believe that. And now you’re… you’re my best friend. I didn’t care that these goons took me. I only cared that you might get hurt trying to find me. Or that I’d never see you again.”

Bucky didn’t realize he was smiling, probably because he forgot what it felt like to do that. What you didn’t know was that Bucky thought you were much stronger than him, in all the ways it counted.

“I won’t let anything like this happen to you again, (Y/n),” Bucky said quietly.

You smiled. “Just let me come to the grocery store with you next time.”

Bucky laughed the smallest of laughs. 

“Only for you.”