#look mom you raised me this must be at least partly your fault

[halffizzbin]

Mom: regret.jpg

[binniesthighs]

❀on a summer’s eve | reader x hyunjin | ❀

or, a sequel to on a winter’s day 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x hwang hyunjin 

Genre: the fluffiest smut 

Tags: confident!reader, shy!hyunjin, dancer au, college au, softnsubby!hyunjin, dom!reader,  fluffy established relationship, comfort fic, slow-ish burn, popsicle/temperature play, face sitting, orgasm denial, oral (m & f receiving), choking, nipple play, dressin’ up hj like the pretty boy he is, praising, unprotected sex (be safe loves!), cockwarming

Word count: 5k 

There are many things about Hyunjin that seem like they must be too good to be true. Often, you’d find a chuckle slipping past your lips thinking about how you must’ve done something world saving in your past life to deserve someone as unbelievable as him. 

Gone were the days when you would plead for him to stay just a little while longer so you could savor just a couple more moments with him. Now, he was all yours. The nuisances of your feelings for him had dissipated like the little snowflakes that would melt into his skin. 

“I want to stay with you like this forever.” 

Hyunjin would draw little pictures into your skin when you would hold him in your arms. It was otherworldly how his bare body felt against yours as your limbs would be woven into the thin sheets of your bed. The two of you would wonder at the glow stars on your ceiling as if they were real constellations, and he would tell you every little thing about his day, or the songs that he wanted you to listen to. 

During the cold months, he promised you that he would take you to see the real stars, not just the inkling of them that you could barely see due to the city’s glow. Hyunjin would actually make dozens of promises to you, so many, that you had lost track: 

I promise to never miss you dance 

I promise to share everything with you 

I promise to hold you as tight as I can 

I promise to keep you company when you are sad 

I promise to hold your hand when it’s cold, and when it’s warm 

I promise to take you to the sea 

I promise to take you to the stars 

✦✧✦✧

Hyunjin’s silvery blonde hair whipped at the slide of his face, getting little strands stuck in his mouth. Every once and a while you would hear him make little pah pah pah sounds to get it unstuck from his lips. It was partly his fault: he was the one that wanted the car window open. To your right, the great expanse of the sea stretched for as far as your eyes could fathom, and the foamy waves bubbled at the shore. It had been years since you had consumed the ocean’s aquamarine color. 

The summer warmth kissed your skin as you outstretched your hand out from the window to wave your hand in the airstream. The outline of our hand traced the shimmering waves, pretending that you had become one with them. 

You rested your chin on the windowsill, feeling Hyunjin’s hand reach out to you and squeeze your thigh. From the corner of your eye, you knew that he must have been smiling. His long fingers interlaced with yours and he pulled your hand to dote a tiny kiss on it. 

“This has to be my favorite place!!” Hyunjin raised his voice over the wind. “Do you like it?” 

“I love it!!!” you rang both of your hands in the air, motioning to the gorgeous scenery in front of you: it was the perfect little sea-town hugging the coast, built a little to hills which were adorned with blooming wildflowers and the greenest trees. 

“I can’t wait to share it all with you.” His adorable little smile shone back rivaling  warmth of the setting sun. 

✦✧✦✧

The waves were loudest in your ears once you had reached the beach with gravel crackling under the tires. Seeing as it was nearly dinner time, the beach had cleared out slightly, leaving only a few beach-goers with their rainbow umbrellas and neon colored folding chairs. In front of you was the most breathtaking sunset that you had likely seen in all of your life: it appeared to be so impossibly real that you surmised that your brain tricked you into thinking you had dreamt it into reality. 

“wow.” you gasped. 

For being one that loved hearing the sound of your voice, there were often times when you were left speechless, and when you were, you would never forget. 

Your fingers reached out to the glass of the windshield, following the way that the sky faded from sapphire blue, to azure, to burnt orange and red, then to pure white and yellow. A stripe of the sunset reflected upon the horizon that sparkled. 

“Are you ready?” Hyunjin tucked a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Mmhm.” 

ding-ding-ding went the opened car doors. 

Hyunjin slicked his sweating roots under a cap, then grabbed out his camera. The humidity that rolled of the ocean flooded your pores and made your whole body swell with warmth. Your boyfriend fiddled with his camera settings with the sunset behind him, and you thought to yourself for the millionth time: he really was pure art. 

His sleeveless shirt flapped at his sides where he held your hand and the heat from both of your bodies intertwined as you padded though the burning sand. You couldn’t remember the last time that you had felt the sand between your toes. 

“Is it okay if I can take pictures of you?” Hyunjin shyly asked, squeezing your hand. 

“Of course you can.” you allowed. “But! You have to let me take pictures of you as well! That’s my condition.” 

Hyunjin groaned a little in retaliation. “You know that I don’t like--” 

“--Jinnie, trust me, if you were in my head, you’d know how much I’m loosing my mind over how gorgeous you look here.” 

“Nooo...I don’t think so--” 

“I mean it!! Would you please let me show you?” 

Hyunjin worriedly crossed his brows. 

If only he knew what a fool for him you were.  

With little warning, you launched yourself into his arms, nearly tackling the both of you to the ground. 

“Hwang Hyunjin you are the prettiest boy that ever lived!! And I love youuuuuu!!” 

Your boyfriend’s flushed face wrinkled into a smile and the little smile lines around his nose made your favorite appearance. 

He laughed out, “And I love you tooooo!!!” then gave a peck to your forehead. “Fine, you can take pictures of me...but can we just keep them to ourselves?” 

“Oookay then, if that’s what you would like.”

Tenderly, he cradled your face in his hands, holding your eyes with his own, then pressed his forehead to yours. 

“Thank you for being my safe place.” 

His whispers faded into the sound of the ebbing waves. 

The setting sun warms your whole body when he leans in to kiss you with lips parted slightly. You must have kissed him hundreds of times, but it never changed. Each kiss with him was like the first: as if he cared for nothing else in the world, only you. When the two of you became one like this, you felt whole; bathed in the sense of utter peace that he would give to you. He found himself in you, pouring his love in every one of his fluttering kisses, and you would give it back, telling him wordlessly that he made up your world. 

Hyunjin’s tongue slowly tested your bottom lip, eliciting a tiny squeak from your mouth, barely audible. 

“Shouldn’t we save that for later?” You giggled into him. 

He returned with an embarrassed little smirk to you. “I just...wanted to kiss you somewhere beautiful.” 

You snuck your hand between the two of you, stealthily grasping the camera strap that hung loosely around his neck. 

“I wanna go first!! 

✦✧✦✧

Hyunjin tugged you out to the ocean, closer and closer until your feet sunk into the sand underneath you. By now, the red sun was nearly fully set into the horizon, and the two of you stood soaking up the last bits of its essence. 

You slung  your arm around Hyunjin’s waist, gripping hard. “Well, we’re getting in aren’t we??” 

“We’re what?!” 

“I hope you don’t mind getting wet!!” 

The blonde boy stumbled after feeling your hand grasp around his wrist to pull him into the water. 

“Wait wait wait!!!” He yelped with wide eyes. “My-my clothes?!” 

You stomped into the white crests, splattering droplets all over your jean shorts. “There’s towels in the car!” 

The deeper you got, the more shocked Hyunjin became, and only held tighter to your hand. 

“Come on,” you hushed, “I promise I won’t let go ‘Jinnie.” 

Your boyfriend adorably gulped, following your steps until the water adhered the fabric of his clothes to his body. Of course, you pretended not to notice how they hugged him, but this was no easy task. 

“It’s not as cold as I thought it would be.” Hyunjin nervously laughed out. 

The two of you walked on, at least until you were able to stand with the water draping over your shoulders. For a couple moments, you simply stood, letting the waves pass by you and the current suspend your bodies. He had wrapped his arms around you, holding on tight light you might float away. 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Your pruned fingers ran up and down his arms. 

He sighed out with a tiny smile, “I had to keep my promise.” 

“Can we...kiss again? I think it’s--ya know--really beautiful here too.” 

Hyunjin answered you by pulling you into his body and angling the back of your neck up to meet his lips. It was a little hypnotic even, feeling so lightheaded from his affectionate kisses and the water bobbing your bodies up and down lightly. Something about it all gave you goosebumps. Hyunjin’s lips tasted very faintly of the sea salt while he pressed smiling gifts upon yours. 

Distantly, you thought that you had heard the shriek of a seagull, but it turned out to be something much different: 

“Ewwww MOM they’re kissing!!!” 

✦✧✦✧

Hyunjin would go on to fulfill another promise to you that evening when he suggested that the two of you eat dinner outside: out in the little garden that looked as if it hadn’t been tended to in years, but still held some kind of whimsical magic to it. In many ways, how the weeds and mosses would cover the stone pathways and underbrush made it appear forest-like. 

The garden wasn’t the largest, and held no more than a couple flowering bushes, some lanterns and a well-loved hammock. As he grilled the vegetables for you both, he told you to sit back and just...look up. 

Dawn had faded into night, and blanket of darkness consumed the sky. However, it wasn’t desolate in the slightest, but rather was splashed with the most magnificent array of twinkling white stars. In the opaque city sky, you hadn’t ever seen them as brilliant. 

Hyunjin rocked you back and forth on the hammock, arm wrapped around your shoulder while you admired them together. 

“Miss the glow stars?” He breathed out a teasing chuckle. 

“-Nah, this puts them to shame.” 

“I wish we could always see them like this.” 

A contented silence filled between you, and your eyes traced the shapes in the sky trying to make out the constellations that you knew. 

“I think you’re making this my favorite place, Hyunjin.” 

He giggled, “I haven’t even shown you my favorite part.” 

✦✧✦✧  

“I actually...you’re the first one who I’ve ever shown this.” Hyunjin fiddled with the door handle at the end of the hallway, poking a key into the lock which was tied around a red string. 

“Huh, this feels a little familiar right? You hiding some kind of colossal mess in there like when I showed you my apartment for the first time?” 

He tittered sweetly, “No, it’s not like that.” 

“Ahhh come on, I’m dying to know!!” 

At last, he swung the door open with a creak, revealing the pitch black room. He flung the light switch on.

“When we would come visit here over the summers, this room was all for me.” 

Hyunjin’s voice echoed and bounced off the walls of the nearly entirely empty room. It was furniture-less, save for one corner which stored a velvety and cushy looking chair on a circular rug. A little basket next to the chair held a couple children’s books. There was yellow sticky-tack that had bled into the paper of the crayon-pictures that dressed the walls nearby the chair. 

“Did you...draw these?” 

“Mm-yeah, a long, long time ago...I know, I know, they’re super cringey.” 

“No, I think that they’re super cute.” 

“...thanks.” He blushed. 

“So was this like your playroom or something?” 

“Yeah, kinda like that.” 

“How come it’s so...empty?” 

Hyunjin looked out past you, to the windows on the opposite wall. The giant glass panels ran from floor to ceiling, and you could see nearly the whole sea-town from where his summer home was situated on a hill. The yellow glow of lights form other homes flowed down the hillside like a collection of fireflies. Further out, the crescent moon illuminated the ocean. 

From the light of the room contrasting with the evening’s darkness, the windows appeared mirror-like. 

Then, you knew. 

“Is this...where you would dance?” 

He nodded solemnly. 

“I think I figured out that I wanted to be a dancer here. I would look out there at night, and there was something deep down inside me that just knew. Before I even knew how to dance, I would sorta just, move around in here, listen to music. It’s kind of...embarrassing--” 

“--No! No, it’s not! I think, I think that it’s beautiful. Don’t feel embarrassed.” 

Hyunjin tangled his fingers among yours, “Can I dance for you?” 

“Yes. Of course.” You smoothed down a couple silvery strands. 

“Okay.” 

First, he tore off his cotton tee. 

“Woah there!!!” In your surprise, your eyes greedily ate him up as you stifled your laughter. “I thought you were dancing, not stripping.” 

Your boyfriend impatiently rolled his eyes at you. “It’s part of the dance.”  

“Ahhhhh.” 

“You’ll see.” 

He set to work finding the song on his phone, and you pretended to be heavily invested in your strawberry popsicle you had brought along. It was your own fault that you stung your teeth trying to take a bite, realizing that Hyunjin’s bare chest was just a little too distracting. 

He kicked off his slippers, saying, “This is the one I’ve been telling you about, the one that I’ve been choreographing for a while.” 

“M’kay!” You huddled down into the chair to fold up your body, now getting hotter by the second. Two more strawberry licks and you hoped to cool down. 

“It isn’t finished yet...so...” 

“Go ahead! I’m sure that it’ll be amazing.”

Hyunjin let out a determined little huff before inhaling deeply and flaring up every muscle on his sculpted chest. The music began to play, then his expression dropped to dead serious, just as it would every time he would start his movements. There was nothing but pristine focus in his brown eyes. 

It was nothing new to you, but every time that Hyunjin would dance for you, it was like you were seeing him do it for the first time. After all, his dancing was one of the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. 

He had a way of turning himself into the music. It was like he was no longer human, but fluid water, leaves in the wind, snowflakes wafting in streetlights. The inhuman way that he would tense every muscle in his body to lift himself from the ground almost like a sparrow was utterly breathtaking. 

Hyunjin’s bare feet hit the floor with a thud as he spun himself around, and his sharp inhales met each beat. The song didn’t have any lyrics, but it was as if his body was filling the room with words; telling a story with his body. 

Two drips from your nearly uneaten popsicle waterfalled down your hand. Conversely, two drips of sweat fell down Hyunjin’s body where he finished his dance curled into a ball against the floor. The room was filled with silence and his shallow breaths. 

“Hyunjin...oh my god, that was...” 

“I know, it’s really rough, I’m still working out the middle part--” 

“--I-its unbelievable! I-I mean, you’re unbelievable!” 

“Really?” 

“Yes! Really.” You rose to attack his sweating body with the biggest hug you could manage with one hand holding your cold treat. “You always take my breath away when you do that.” 

“You liked it that much?”  

“Would I lie? God, I don’t have a clue how you do it.” 

“I just...practice.” 

You lead him over to the velvety chair. “Tell me about it. What does it mean?” 

“Well, I was thinking it’s about breaking through what makes you vulnerable and insecure, and trying to find yourself when you aren’t sure who you are. Did you...get that?” 

Truthfully, he had lost you a little bit. What was more preoccupying was how enraptured he looked reflecting on something so personal to him. 

“That’s so beautiful ‘Jin.” Your fingers framed his face with a subtle brush.

“Hm-thank you.” He nuzzled into your hand. 

The urge to be as close to him as possible to him was suffocating, so you let your body lead your actions before your mind did: straddling him where he sat to circle your arms around him tight. He let out a little surprised “oh!” but held you back just as tight. You needed nothing more than for him to hold you like that for just a little while. 

Two more red, syrupy drips, fell down your wrist. 

“Y/n?” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I please have you tonight? You can do whatever you want to me, I just...want you.” 

“Oh, Jinnie...” 

He knew all he had to do was say please. 

“I wanna be...close.” 

You granted him the taste of strawberry on your lips, filling his wanton mouth with your answer. Your thumb rubbed into his cheek, where you felt one of his tears wet your skin. 

“Why are you crying my love?” 

He sniffled, “Because I’m so happy.” he giggled quietly, “I never thought that I would share this place with someone that I care for so much.” 

You blinked back tears of your own. “I promise to take care of you always Hyunjin, and to always make you happy, ’kay?” 

His needy fingertips dug into our hips, and you involuntarily found yourself grinding into his lap. You both sniffled a little more, but found comfort back by the corners of each other’s mouths. 

“You-you can use me...however you want.” Hyunjin moaned prettily into your mouth. 

The heat from your clit became overwhelming as you rubbed into his growing hard-on. 

“Okay my love. I’ll do that.” 

The cold of your popsicle in your hand fed miraculous little ideas into your head. 

“Let’s take these pants off, alright?” Hyunjin nodded, hastily unbuttoning his linen pants. 

You took two fat licks up the red length of your freezing popsicle, not breaking contact with his eyes. Just to make him whine, you flicked your tongue over the tip of the sweet treat, just like you would do to him. You used your free hand to palm at his bulge, sucking in as deep as you could down your popsicle. 

“You want my mouth, pretty boy?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Yes what?” 

“Yes please.” 

You let your hand trace down his gorgeously thick inner thigh to take your position between his legs, kneeling on the carpet. The tips of your fingers hooked under his waistband, tearing off his briefs. Nearly as pink as your stained tongue, his marvelously long dick twitched in his anticipation then shaky breaths quaked in his chest. With one hand, you tugged at his length rubbing his own pre-cum over his tip. 

“Fuck, you’re so cute.” 

Hyunjin’s biceps flared as he searched for something to grab onto to steady himself, settling one in your hair, and the other digging little crescents into the skin of his pearly thigh. You switched to give more attention to the popsicle, licking at it agonizingly slow all for him to watch. 

“You’d like it like this, wouldn’t you?” 

“Mmhm.” He whined with a little shake of his hips. “Please.” 

“Okay, you deserve it.” 

Streams of strawberry juice fell down your hand as you lent your mouth to his neglected cock, then you traced your freezing tongue up and down the skin. Hyunjin gasped in sharply, wincing a little from the sensation. A broken little “oh” reverberated in his chest. 

“Too cold?” 

“--No!” He interjected, “No, I-I love it, don’t...don’t stop.” 

At last you took in his full length, mixing the sweet taste of freezing fruit with the burning hot warmth of his veiny cock. Today, you’d let him hear you gag a little. As shy as he was, you still knew that his ego swelled by the hundreds hearing you choke on his dick. 

Your sugary drool fell down the side of his length as you let go, moving to return back to your mess of a popsicle in your hand. The loss of contact made Hyunjin whimper out helplessly. 

“Look at me,” You commanded, sucking in the popsicle several more times. By now, his eyes had entirely glazed over with his lust for you. It was that same look that he would get in his eyes when he danced. He was enthralled. 

“M-more?” He begged to you. 

You prowled over his hips, kissing the side of his dick as you let those red drops drip onto him, lapping at them after a few seconds. 

His entire body shivered viciously while he pitifully groaned into the room. 

Your devilish little laughs kissed into his inner thighs, where you bit into the skin. 

Your popsicle was then gone in seconds, then you ridded your hand from the sticky juice by providing them to your boyfriend who sucked at them greedily. After you felt as if your mouth had warmed enough for it to be tolerable, you kissed his tip, then resumed your work, bobbing up and down, just as you knew he liked it. 

“I’m gonna--mm--if you keep doing that.” Hyunjin threw his head back in his euphoria. 

“Let’s move this somewhere else then shouldn’t we?” 

✦✧✦✧   

There was nothing prettier than the way that your love bites would fade into Hyunjin’s skin after a while, fading from violet to lavender as they healed. You could still see a couple of them tracing his collarbones while your fingers tweaked at his angrily hard nipples. 

Little mewls from his mouth spilled into your dripping pussy riding his tongue. One pinch, two more pinches...and his hips buckled. He’d take one of his long arms to travel up your body and pinch at your own nipples and kneed your pretty breast in his hand. 

“fuck yes, fuck--your mouth feels so good baby.” 

His tongue flicked at your swollen clit, causing your whole body to jerk with each touch. He lent tender kisses into your folds, then would switch to fucking into your leaking entrance with his pointed tongue. 

“Go slower, slower...” 

You pleaded out your instructions, and he was always one to obey. With the combination of his tantalizing licks and the slow grind of your hips, he coaxed out your orgasm so naturally; he left your thighs shaking on both sides of his head. While you came down, Hyunjin would press careful little kisses into your twitching bud, just as you had taught him. 

“Your turn.” You huff out, then carefully shift to move off your boyfriend. 

“Please...I want you to touch me so bad, ‘hurts a little...” 

“Aw does it?” 

You kiss his lips wet with your slick. 

“I have a present for you though, before I get to that.” 

You can see how needy he is in his eyes, but he still puts on a thankful little smile for you. 

“Oh really? I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything...” 

“It’s okay! I wanted to surprise you anyway. Besides, you’re a gift enough for me.” 

He snickers, “That was kinda cheesy.” 

“I thought that you liked when I was cheesy!?” 

“I do, I do.” 

You dip into your duffle to pull out the tiny cardboard box. 

“What’s this?” He sits up to take it from your hands. 

Inside he finds the dainty white lace choker, woven to have little flower-like shapes on the top edge, and tiny fake pearls beaded into the bottom edge like little dewdrops. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Do you like it? I thought that it would look really pretty on yo--” 

“--I love it. Thank you so much.” He plays with the clasp. “Do you...want me to wear it right now?” 

“I thought that you could--” 

“--Can you help me?” He beamed at you coyly, providing you with the clasps. 

“Um-sure.” You find yourself getting flustered over your fantasy of seeing him in that choker for weeks finally becoming a reality. 

Before you sweep it around his neck, you press one kiss into his neck. 

“There. You look gorgeous.” 

Hyunjin’s cheeks turn rosy at your compliment. 

“Hyunjin, you’re absolutely mesmerizing. I promise to never stop reminding you.” 

His lithe fingers tangle up in your messy hair, and you kiss him all over his chest, renewing some of the hickies that had faded away. The sensation tickles him, and his beautiful giggles are like music to your ears. Slowly, your fingers trickle down to his hips where you take up his half-hard cock back in your hand. He hums a little “mm” once you do so. 

“I’m going to make you all mine baby boy, wouldn’t you like me to fuck you until you don’t know anything else?” 

“Yes!!” 

Harder you jerk at his cock while you take in the sight of his fluttering eyelids and the way that the veins on his neck pulsate under the pretty white lace. 

“Use your words my love, what is you want?” 

“-Want you to fuck me, fuck me so good, please, take care of me...” 

Hyunjin’s hips thrash this way and that from your teasing provided by your thumb on his slit. 

“Close! I-I’m close--” He chokes out the words. 

“Already? You’re that pent up for me hmm?” 

“Wanna cum...” 

You coolly remove your hand. “Not yet darling.” 

His whining moan is just a little too bratty for you--it’s not like your Hyunjin to be like that for you. You decide to try another method. 

“Wait just a little longer for me okay my love. Let’s not get impatient.” 

“Bu-but--” 

“No buts.” 

Your hand snakes around his neck to press into his airway, and his eyes roll back sinfully as you do so. In your palm, you can feel the pearls press into his skin. With your other free hand you take back to flicking his nipples in your knuckles. He must not have been lying: the head of his cock is angrily flared. Your grip loosens at his neck, and he gasps out with his moans getting tangled in his inhales. 

“ M’sorry, I’ll be a good boy for you.” 

Hearing him reassure you makes your head spin, and you feel your clit ache out horribly for stimulation. You want him just as bad he wants you, and you’re almost ready for him to know it. 

“Come ‘ere, sit on the edge of the bed.” 

He follows you, and those pretty pearls shine in the dim glow of his bedroom. 

You fall down to permit him a couple wet stripes to his cock and he’s already a mess once more. Mutterings of words muddle his lips, but you can see that he’s holding them back for you, trying not to pressure you or whine any more. 

“You are being a very good boy Jinnie, let’s give you what you want how hmm?” 

His eyes blow out with his realization then he eagerly watches as you mount his lap facing him, lowering your entrance over his dick, falling down bit...by bit. Your knees are planted on both sides of his legs, supported by the bed and his arms holding you nearer. 

There’s nothing that Hyunjin loves more than feeling how tight you are around his cock, it nearly turns his whole body into jelly with the first contact. For a couple moments, you simply exist connected in this way, letting the sense of intimacy consume your entire beings. 

“I love you Hyunjin.” You start to bounce, and it takes all of his will to say the words back to you. 

His arms fall back to prop himself up, and Hyunjin lets you bounce up and down on him as hard or as fast or slow as you like, taking his dick to pleasure yourself in any way that you see fit. It’s when you graze your g-spot the deepest that both of your bodies fold together, trying to maintain your upright position. Hyunjin’s arms start to shake and you push his chest back, and his body bounces a little on the mattress from your force. You pay no mind, spreading out your hands flat on his chest to ride him with every bit of energy that you have left. 

“oh god, oh god, shit-” He tries his best to hide his curses from you. 

You can’t help but obsess over his angelic form under you, topped with the beautiful choker that makes him look nearly fairy-like. The sense of possession that you soak up from his moans all for you drives your orgasm right up through your body, tearing through every nerve you think you must have. 

Hyunjin clenches his teeth, hissing air through with his eyebrows crossed tightly. 

“Cum for me baby, you can cum for me now my love.” 

Hyunjin’s neck flares against his choker with his spewing of nonsense words and erotic moans while he cums inside you, both of you throbbing against the other. 

He laughs a little, chest rosy and rising and falling for vital breaths to calm himself. 

“Are you okay?” 

He nods with that adorable little smile you love, “Mmhm.” 

“You want to say like this for a second?” 

“...Please?” 

“Okay. I need to catch my breath too.” 

You press your body flush against Hyunjin’s chest letting him hold your sweating bodies together. Every few seconds or so, one of you would shake with little aftershocks from your orgasms. 

“Did I do okay?” Hyunjin asks you after some time. 

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, sweetheart” You give one last kiss on his forehead messy with stringy silver tufts. 

“Okay...

...I promise to always be good for you.” 

[arysafics]

be my baby (i’ll look after you)

for @bisexualbellamyblake. Happy birthday my love!

Summary:  Finn lets slip to Bellamy the reason he and Clarke broke up -- he wasn't into being called Daddy. Bellamy, however, is.

Rated E, ~3k words

It seems like a regular Thursday night shift at the bar for Bellamy. Suits lined up for a drink after work, girls flirting with him to try and get a free drink. But then, the last person he expects to show up at the bar he works at walks in, and plants himself at a barstool, right in front of Bellamy. Clarke’s ex, Finn Collins.

“Finn,” Bellamy says, trying not to sound too unhappy to see him. He’s presumably a paying customer, after all. Though why he has to come to this bar, Bellamy doesn’t know. “What are you doing here?”

“For a drink, obviously,” Finn says. “I’ll have a rum and coke.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes as he turns away to make Finn’s drink. He’s never liked the guy, from the first moment Clarke brought him home. He has no idea why they broke up. Clarke refuses to tell him. He figures it’s Finn’s fault. Clarke never cried about it though, and though it’s only been a couple of weeks, she’s already dating again. Maybe she just woke up and realised Finn’s a huge waste of space.

Bellamy places Finn’s drink in front of him. “Are you opening a tab?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’ll probably be here a while.”

“Okay, well—maybe get Josie to serve you next time.”

“But I came to talk to you.”

Bellamy stares blankly at him. What could he and Finn possibly have to talk about? “I thought you came here for a drink,” Bellamy huffs.

“That too.” He takes a sip, while Bellamy waits impatiently for Finn to speak. “It’s about Clarke.”

“I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”

“I think I want her back.”

Bellamy’s jaw ticks. “What makes you think she’d take you back?”

“Well, I’m the one that broke up with her. She didn’t want to break up.”

“She didn’t?” Bellamy repeats dumbly. His stomach twists. It shouldn’t matter to him, and yet it does. As hard as he’s tried not to think about her like that, his efforts have been futile. Of course, he’d been sympathetic when she told him it was over with Finn, but on the inside, he’d been celebrating, and not just because Finn happens to be the worst.

“Does she talk about me?”

“No.” It’s not a lie. Bellamy doesn’t think he’s heard her mention Finn’s name once since they broke up. But maybe she’s secretly pining in silence. The thought sours Bellamy’s mood even more.

“Can I ask you something?” Finn says. “Not as Clarke’s friend. Just as an impartial third party.”

“Whatever.”

“Would you think it was weird if a girl asked if she could call you Daddy?”

Bellamy manages to keep his face expressionless, thought his heartrate kicks up a notch. He’s not about to tell Finn Collins of all people about his kinks. And he’s definitely not going to give him advice on how to get back together with Clarke. Because he’s assuming Finn is still talking about Clarke. He has to be talking about Clarke.

“Is that why you broke up with her?” Bellamy asks cautiously. “Because she wanted to call you Daddy?” He has to know for sure.

Finn shrugs. “Partly. I thought that was weird enough. I don’t want to be part of her daddy issues. But she also wanted me to—I don’t know. Treat her like a little girl. It freaked me out.”

Bellamy feels like he’s about to combust with this newfound information. Clarke Griffin has a daddy kink. As if he wasn’t already attracted to her enough. As if he hasn’t thought about spanking her for being a naughty little girl, thought about her on her knees, calling him Daddy, begging to suck his cock. He always felt guilty about it before—after all, she’s his best friend, and his roommate. He shouldn’t be having any such thoughts about her. She’d be horrified. But now… well, maybe she wouldn’t be so horrified after all.

“So should I be concerned? Or should I just try to be into it?”

Bellamy’s mind whirs. He wants to tell Finn to go to hell. Instead, he says carefully, “Don’t force yourself to be into something you’re not. You’re both better off finding people you’re more sexually compatible with.”

Finn nods thoughtfully. Bellamy didn’t know he could think.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He downs the rest of his drink, then jumps up from the barstool. “Thanks, man. The drink was on the house, right?”

“No,” Bellamy says, but Finn is already leaving, and Bellamy can’t be fucked causing a scene over one drink. He’s just glad to see the back of Finn.

 -

 He’s not exactly sure how to act around Clarke after that. At first he kind of just… pretends he doesn’t know. Pretends like he’s not thinking about it twenty-four hours a day, even though he keeps fantasising about everything from fucking her so hard she can’t walk straight to tucking her into bed and kissing her goodnight. Most of all, he keeps imagining how it would sound coming out of her mouth. Daddy.

The thing is, he really, really wants to act on it. Wants to be her Daddy more than anything. But for one thing, he has no idea how to bring it up with her in a way that isn’t awkward and potentially friendship ruining, should she not be interested. And for another, he doesn’t want her to think he only want to be with her because of the Daddy thing, when in reality that’s just the icing on the cake, because he’s been at least half in love with her for years now.

A fact which he’s rudely reminded of right now, when she walks into the living room, fresh from a shower, dressed in a robe, running a comb through her wet hair. Something between affection and desire lodges in his throat.

“What?” Clarke asks, raising an eyebrow, and Bellamy realises he must have been staring. He swallows.

“Nothing,” he says, but his eyes follow her as she wanders over and sits beside him on the couch.

“You’ve been weird lately,” Clarke muses. “For like—a week.” She runs the comb through her hair again, tugging at it when it gets tangled at the end.

“Let me do that,” Bellamy blurts out, reaching for the comb. Clarke pauses, and Bellamy thinks he notices a faint tinge of pink appear across her cheeks. She slowly hands him the comb.

“Okay.”

Too late, Bellamy realises this isn’t exactly a good case against him acting weird. It’s not like he’s ever offered to brush her hair before. But changing his mind now would just make it seem weirder.

“Come sit on the floor between my legs,” he says, gesturing for her to move. She obeys, sliding to the floor then shuffling over so his legs frame her shoulders.

He combs her hair gently, starting from the ends, the way his mom showed him how to do with Octavia when she was little. Back then, he was just trying to be helpful son. Now, he can feel his cock stirring as he tries to fulfil his stupid primal need to take care of his baby girl.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Clarke says, filling the silence Bellamy hadn’t noticed had risen. Too focused on her hair, on how much he likes running it through his fingers, on how pretty she smells.

“You didn’t ask me a question,” Bellamy points out.

“It was implied.” Clarke waits for him to answer, and when he doesn’t, she prompts him. “Why are you acting weird?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You keep looking at me weirdly. I feel like I’ve got something on my face all the time. And I feel like you’re hiding something from me.”

“Do I have to tell you everything?”

“If it’s something to do with me, then yes. We’re best friends, it’s your duty to me.”

Bellamy finishes combing the tangles out of Clarke’s hair, and starts gathering up sections to braid. He stays silent for a moment, concentrating on the braid, while considering what he should say.

“I ran into Finn last week at the bar,” he says finally. Cautiously.

“That’s what this is about? If he has a new girlfriend, you don’t need to worry about telling me. I really don’t care about him.”

Bellamy tugs on her hair, a little too hard, and she winces. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay.”

“You’re sure you’re over him?” Bellamy asks. “Because he said he was the one who broke up with you.”

“Technically true,” Clarke says. “But it was for the best. We weren’t—compatible.”

“That’s it?” Bellamy presses. “I mean, you never really did tell me what happened with you two. Seems weird that he broke up with you. It’s not like he could do better, you’re already way out of his league.”

Clarke laughs, almost nervously. “Thanks. He, um, didn’t like some of the things I was into. You know, sexually.” She’s trying not to be embarrassed about talking about this with him, Bellamy can tell, but she obviously feels awkward. He wonders if she’d even say that much if she wasn’t facing away from him.

He doesn’t push her any further. He finishes the braid, and Clarke hands him the hair tie from around her wrist so he can tie it up. He strokes her hair, just like he’s smoothing it out, and Clarke leans into his hand.

“There we go,” Bellamy murmurs. “Good girl.” It’s an accident, a slip of the tongue, but he knows he doesn’t imagine her tiny whimper. He sweeps the braid over her shoulder, baring her neck. He rubs his thumbs against the back of her neck, then across her shoulders as she lets her robe drop a little. She hums in appreciation. “That feel good, baby?” Bellamy asks.

“Uh huh,” Clarke says, nodding slightly. If she notices his second slip of the tongue, calling her baby, she doesn’t let on. Though perhaps this time it was less a slip of the tongue, and more a careful test of the waters.

“Such a good girl,” Bellamy repeats, his voice low and soothing. Clarke tenses, and Bellamy pauses his ministrations, heart pounding.

“He told you, didn’t he? Why he broke up with me?”

“Yes,” Bellamy admits. Clarke turns to look at him over her shoulder, blinking up at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Are you making fun of me?” she asks quietly. Bellamy’s heart skips a beat. He doesn’t blame her for thinking that, of course, but she sounds so small and vulnerable that it makes him feel sick to his stomach that he could let her feel that way. He shakes his head.

“Clarke, I—” he starts, words sticking in his throat. How to tell her that he’s madly in love with her, and wants to take care of her for the rest of her life, without coming on too strong?

He cups her face in one hand, thumb brushing over her cheek. She doesn’t pull away as he leans down, and her lips are already parted for him when he meets them with his own, kissing her more gently than he knew he was capable of. His stomach flips over when she turns further so she can rise up to meet him, kiss him harder. He pulls away, and she chases his lips, on her knees in front of him, whining when she doesn’t find him waiting for her. She opens her eyes.

“What was that?” she asks, a little breathless.

Bellamy snorts out a nervous laugh. He’s never been good at expressing how he feels. “Um—” he starts, ducking his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He manages to meet her eye before he speaks again. It won’t seem sincere if he doesn’t. “I kind of—have feelings for you. For a while now. I was so jealous of Finn, you have no idea.”

Clarke gives a small, bashful smile. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a jerk.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy agrees. He lifts his chin, gaining confidence. “He wasn’t man enough to take care of you. But I am.” Clarke bites her lip, cheeks pink. Bellamy swallows. “Would you like that?” Clarke nods, and Bellamy feels like he can finally breathe again. He smiles, relieved, ecstatic.

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke says. Bellamy’s breath catches. Her voice is low, a cheeky expression on her face, like she knows exactly what the word will do to him. He manages to keep his composure, but his cock jumps, straining hard against the fly of his jeans.

“Come up here,” Bellamy says, patting his thighs. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap. Want to hold my baby girl.”

Clarke hurries to obey, eagerly climbing into his lap, and Bellamy’s arms guide her, then wrap around her as he cradles her in his lap. He’s never felt so giddily happy and so turned on at the same time.

He kisses her over and over, her lips urging him on, taking from him what she needs. He can’t keep his hands still, stroking her back and side through her soft robe.

“Are you wearing anything under this, baby?” Bellamy whispers, between kissing her. Clarke shakes her head. “Can I see?” Clarke nods, then buries her head into his shoulder as he reaches for the tie around her waist, pulling at it, then letting her robe fall open.

God, she’s gorgeous. Her full, round tits, pretty pink nipples, her soft tummy, the small patch of dark blonde hair between her legs, her swollen cunt, dripping with desire.

“So beautiful, darling,” Bellamy coos. “I’ve waited so long to see you like this. Can Daddy touch?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke says meekly, flushing under his admiring gaze. It’s strange for her to be so shy with him, but he can’t deny it’s a turn on.

He runs his hand up the side of her stomach to cup her breast, then rubs his palm across her nipple, feeling it pebble beneath his touch. He takes his time caressing her tits, allowing himself to really appreciate them before he dips his hand lower, watching her hold her breath as he trails his fingers down her stomach, stopping just above her slit. She squirms.

“Please, Daddy,” Clarke whispers, blushing.

He kisses her, drawing it out, sweet and dirty. He slips his finger a little lower, then sinks it into her folds, feeling her shift to open her legs for him. He runs his finger along her slit, gathering her arousal on his finger. God, he’s trying so hard to be cool, to be the one in control, but his heart his thrumming, his cock throbbing. He’s nervous and excited and so fucking aroused he thinks he might burst.

Clarke watches him with wide eyes as he brings his finger to his lips and sucks it into his mouth, tasting her for the first time.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You taste so good. I want to lick your cunt. Think my little girl needs her Daddy to make her come, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke nods frantically.

“Not here,” Bellamy says. He’s so not fucking her for the first time on their couch. Instead, he scoops her up into his arms and carries her to his bed. It’s their bed now. There’s no way he’s letting her sleep in her own bed again after this. Unless, of course, he’s there too.

He settles himself between her legs, and hooks her knees over his shoulders. He turns his head to press gentle kisses up her thigh, slowly, teasing, savouring every moment with her. Her noses her folds, breathing in shakily, her scent filling his nostrils.

“Daddy,” Clarke whines. Evidently, he’s being a little too leisurely for his baby’s liking.

“Impatient, aren’t you, darling?” Bellamy says. He’s not teasing, or even amused by it. He’s too aroused, too in awe of her.

His tongue slips between her lips, and he closes his eyes for a moment as he lets the sweetness of her arousal coat his tastebuds. He finds her clit, teases her with his tongue, her every tiny squeak and whimper a jolt to his cock. He licks into her, pushes his tongue as far inside her cunt as he can, and she tilts her hips to meet him.

He devours her, unable to fight his passion, and she only spurs him on, gasping for air, moaning, begging him not to stop. He thighs tremble around his head, and she cries out for him as a rush of liquid pours onto his tongue, her walls clenching around him as he laps up her come, the taste of her already becoming an addiction.

He waits until she’s stopped spasming to pull his tongue from her cunt. He presses his lips to her pubic bone, running his hands over her thighs.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Such a good girl, coming for Daddy like that. You taste so good, sweetheart.”

He slips her legs from off her shoulders, but remains between them, tracing circles on her stomach. Her flushed chest rises and falls dramatically as she tries to regain her breath. He’s hard as hell, but he doesn’t even consider asking her to suck his cock. Tonight isn’t about him. It’s about proving to her that he can look after her like she deserves.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she manages.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he tells her. “It’s my job to make sure my little girl has everything she needs, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clarke smiles. “Will you cuddle me?”

“Of course, baby,” Bellamy says. He scoots up the bed so he can spoon her, his big arms wrapping around her little body. He kisses her shoulder, and she wriggles back against him, a sigh of contentment escaping her mouth.

[artificialqueens]

Cold Drinks and Dusty Nights (Scyvie)—NeptuneViolin

Yvie hated places like this. Clubs with the music that was booming just a bit too loud, with people swarming the dance floor. Brooke, on the other hand, loved places like this. Well, mostly the girls (even though she’d denied it).

“Thanks for coming with me,” Brooke called, despite being right in front of her. The muffled sound of her voice barely made it to Yvie’s ears.

“No worries.”

She was lying. There were worries. Being an artsy hermit that never left her apartment, Yvie wasn’t exactly…built for places like this. She’d like to imagine herself as a futuristic robot that couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of clubs.

Brooke was quick to run to the dancefloor, already forgetting Yvie’s existence. She threw her small handbag at the artist before dancing oddly close to an, admittedly attractive, stranger.

(Come on look at her!)—Yvie imagined Brooke saying as she bit her lip and eyed a smaller, Latina girl by the glowing dancefloor—(She’s amazing!)

Yvie just decided to stand by the bar, barely resting her weight on the barstool. Thankfully, the bar was so secluded to the corner that the music seemed softer. She sighed into her hands.

Tequila?

Champagne?

No. Vodka. Definitely vodka.

She raised her hand to signal the bartender, the redhead girl rushing over. Her smile was unfittingly genuine.

“Hi, what can I get you?” before Yvie could answer, she was quick to answer for her. “Vodka I’m guessing?”

Yvie raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. How could you tell?”

“Your expression,” she shrugged, grabbing the closest glass. Yvie chuckled.

“This isn’t really my scene,” she admitted. “What about you…” she gazed down at her name tag. “Scarlet?”

“I just work here,” she scooped up ice and smoothly lowered some into the thickly-shaped glass. “But I wouldn’t exactly choose to be here either.”

They shared a smile while Scarlet swiftly swung over the glass of vodka soda in front of her.

“Cheers,” Scarlet called, clinking her knuckle against Yvie’s drink. The taller girl smiled and took a couple of sips, the warm sensation travelling down her throat. “So did you come here with anyone?”

“Yeah, my friend,” she took another sip. “But she likes to ditch me for hot girls.”

“She didn’t need to ditch you to find one,” she joked confidently. Yvie grinned at her mischievous nature, matching Scarlet’s playful expression.

“You’re confident,” Yvie quipped, taking a bigger gulp this time.

“I’ve been told,” she fanned out her fingers across her face, the campy gesture making the darker-skinned girl laugh. Like, properly belly laugh. Scarlet seemed slightly surprised at first, but joked, “Love that laugh.”

Yvie just smirked, eyeing down towards the other people impatiently waiting at the bar. “People are waiting for you.”

“They can wait.”

Yvie tried to hide her smug and intrigued expression with her glass.

***

Yvie wondered why she came back. She really hated the music (absolutely no variety either), and she couldn’t stand the type of people that would linger here. In saying that, no one came out on Tuesdays so she was virtually alone, other than some smaller groups of people.

And yet she willingly came by herself, dressed in slightly nicer clothes than before. The plain t-shirt was swapped out for a graphic tee, and the coffee stained jeans were changed to nice ripped ones. She supported the look with an unnecessarily colourful jacket and chunky platforms that made her tower over people.

Scarlet stood by the bar, wiping down some glasses. Yvie swiftly swung herself onto a chair, trying to mimic a confident gesture, as she asked for her “usual”. Scarlet just laughed.

“This is only your second time,” she pointed out the obvious. “I barely remember what you ordered last time,” Yvie hid her slight insecurity behind an awkward chuckle—that Scarlet was nice to everyone since it was her job and Yvie was just overthinking it. Despite that, Scarlet lowered the vodka soda in front of her. “Just joking.”

Yvie rolled her eyes and took a sip. It was just as bubbly as last time (it mirrored Scarlet’s expression perfectly). The warm sensation warmed her stomach, burning her body from the inside out.

“So what brings you out on a Tuesday night?” the redhead asked, grabbing a glass for herself. Don’t blame her—Yvie thought—barely anyone was here. They lightly clinked glasses as they simultaneously took a sip.

“My brain isn’t working so I needed a break,” partially true. Partly a lie. Yvie did need a break, but she always needed a break.

“Oh, you’re a college student, right?” Scarlet asked. Yvie quickly dropped that fact last time but she didn’t expect her to remember it. “Design technology…if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah,” she brightened. “Well, what about you? Do you do anything outside of this job?”

Scarlet’s face faltered for a moment but stammered to cover it, “No, but I want to get out of here as soon as possible and pursue acting,” there was a moment when she looked down at the counter, her eyes sitting still.

“That sounds cool,”

Scarlet sheepishly smiled, “Really?”

“Yeah. You should do whatever you want to Scarlet. And if it’s anything like your charisma, you’re gifted at it.”

Scarlet laughed. Genuinely. Somehow more than she did previously. She had a chipper giggle that boosted dopamine in Yvie’s robot head. Like sparks.

Yvie wasn’t into her like that though. Scarlet was just…nice. And pretty. And confident. And easy to talk to.

“Do you want anything else to drink?” Scarlet asked, her hands resting against the countertop.

“Yeah. I’ll take a cosmo,”

“Good choice.”

One drink couldn’t hurt, could it? No. Except one drink became two. Then three. And Yvie barely remembered what she said and why she said it, but she saw Scarlet laugh so she didn’t really care.

“I should call you a cab,” Scarlet said between fits of laughter. By this point in the night, Scarlet’s face was right in front of Yvie’s, just inches apart. Their noses were practically touching.

“It’s only…” she stared at the clock and waited for a moment for her gaze to readjust. “2 AM.”

Scarlet ran her hand down Yvie’s hair, caressing down to her shoulder, “I’ve had a great night.”

“Same.”

She whispered out, her words barley making a sound. Maybe because she didn’t want Scarlet to hear. Maybe it’s because she wanted the world to sit still around them for a second as she sat there with Scarlet, the low bass drowning out everything else.

***

Yvie was wearing even nicer clothes this time around. Everything was even more colourful, over the top and flamboyant. The length of her coat bounced along with her steps as she practically danced down to the familiar club. Did she like the music? Still no. But it was seemingly worth it.

Until she saw Scarlet’s scrunched up face at the bar. Yvie easily spotted it—how her eyes were bloodshot and lowered. The bounce in her steps stopped.

“Hey,” the darker girl said, trying to cheer her up. Scarlet instantly brightened, as if putting on a mask.

“Hey,” she bit down on her lip. “Do you want your usual?” even her joking tone wasn’t as lively as usual.

“I was actually wondering when you finished work,” Yvie watched Scarlet’s thoughts squirm.

“I can’t get out of work until 2 AM,” she said, her words flat-lining like an apology.

“Lucky I’m free all night.”

Neither expected Yvie to stay. But by Yvie’s fourth glass of lemonade and their fiftieth conversation topic, the time seemed to fly by. Scarlet was comfortably slumped over the countertop, talking to her non stop about her moms, her home life and her inability to dance. She got to know her inside and out basically. Yvie, for once, thanked her own procrastination.

They walked down the dead town after her shift. Yvie suggested a nearby 24-hour diner with Scarlet quickly agreeing. The place was darkly lit and barely functioning, but Yvie felt as if she was entering a palace.

They sat by the furthest booth and ordered pancakes at the oddest time of day. Scarlet joked she’d gain too much weight. Yvie joked that Scarlet would look good regardless.

“I realised something,” Scarlet suddenly stated it out of the blue. It was in the middle of their meals when they sat in comfortable silence. “I realised it today actually,” she lowered her cutlery onto the table. “I’m never going to be an actor. I’m never going to be able to get out of here.”

She said it rather casually as if she was joking. Yvie would’ve dismissed it if she was drunk. That’s when she realised that this was the first time she was sober around her.

“Why do you say that?” Yvie’s eyes never met Scarlet’s.

“Because I know that the dream is stupid,” she said in a belittling tone. “I like to think of myself as a princess but I shouldn’t expect everything to go my way.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Yvie said honestly. Scarlet snickered. “I’m being serious,” she turned herself over to her. “If knowing what you want to do in life and being motivated to chase it is stupid…well everyone else must be really stupid.”

Scarlet laughed, slapping the brunette lightly on the shoulder.

“Thanks but…” she shrugged, unable to properly end her sentence.

“I’m being serious,” Yvie said, force to her words. “It doesn’t matter how "unrealistic” your dream is. Just fucking go for it. At least you’re trying to sort your shit out. No one should fault you for that. Especially you.“

Scarlet pressed her lips together and took a moment to digest it. Then she took another bite, "You’re the best. Has anyone told you that?”

“Don’t need them to,” Yvie said, overtly poised.

“Good answer,” Scarlet joked. “But tell me, do you ever get offended about what other people think?”

“I do initially,” she truthfully answered. “But I try to not let it get to me. I want to brush it off as soon as possible,” Yvie sipped her coke. “I’d willingly drive away and never look back. Maybe look back to smile at Brooke once, but honestly.”

Scarlet laughed, “Cheers to that.”

By the end of the meal, Yvie suggested for her to walk Scarlet home. The redhead reassured her that she’d be fine, but eventually caved in to her persistance. The sunlight began to pierce through the buildings, both amazed by how quickly time seemed to catch up on them.

Scarlet stood by the front of her apartment, shoving her hands into her pockets.

“Thanks,” she said shyly. It was a complete 180 from the first time they met.

That’s when Yvie finally grabbed her and squeezed her tightly, embracing her as tightly as possible. Scarlet hugged her back, feeling the sun beat down on her back.

***

The last time Yvie came to the club was another uncomfortable Saturday night. It was the first time she visited in almost a year. She came with Brooke like the first night, except this time she brought along her new girlfriend. Guess that stupid dancing from the first night actually worked.

Scarlet waited for her by the entrance, her dark, work attire swapped out for a much flowier dress. She immediately embraced Yvie, placing a loving kiss by her lips.

“You ready to go?” Yvie asked, holding her new car keys in her hand. It was a rusty, second-hand car, but they were excited to get into it. Excited to see where it would take them.

“Anytime.”

The redhead swung herself into the passenger seat, passing all their packed bags in the back seats.

“Are you sure about this?” Brooke asked, resting her hands on her hips. Yvie smiled, full heartedly. “Okay then. Good luck.”

Scarlet turned up the radio, an unrecognisable song blasting through the car. Did Yvie like the song? No. Not at all. But she smiled nontheless. With Scarlet by her side and the road in front of them, she finally let herself free.

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Serendipity (C.B) | Chapter 13

Summary: Serendipity: (n) the chance occurrence of events in a beneficial way

Popular youtuber Isabella Hart, known as Bella to her audience, bends over backwards to separate her youtube life from her private life. Known for her overall clean content and her bubbly attitude, Isabella has a wild side to her that only those inside the youtube community know about. When Bella meets Colby during one of the trap house parties she finally meets someone she can be her genuine self with. When trouble arises after their meeting, will Bella be able to hand the pressure or will she destroy her relationship with Colby as well as herself in the process. [This starts in 2018]

Written: 2019

Word Count: 3,065

Warnings: swearing and suicide

(I  put a **trigger warning** right before the triggering part of the chapter and **trigger warning over** at the end of that part so you can read around it)

Serendipity Masterlist

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with?" Colby asks for the millionth time.

My mother asked to meet with me. When I told Colby, he was worried that something would happen like last time and he wouldn't be there to protect me. After texting back with my mother she assured me that it was only going to be the two of us. She even suggested meeting at the diner we used to go to when I was little. I only agreed because of that. I have a lot of good family memories that don't include my father at the diner it brings me some comfort that this will go well.

"Babe, it's fine. Just come over in like two to three hours and we can hide from the world together." I reassure him.

The leak only happened three days ago. I've spent the past two days locked in my apartment. I refused to see or speak to anyone. Colby only partly obeyed my wished. He stayed at the house to give me my boundaries but he would still text and call me constantly to check on me. I needed a few days alone to try to process everything and I can't do that properly if Colby is cuddling with me all day; that would only make me forget about my problems.

"Okay, I'll come over soon. If you aren't there I'll let myself in and wait for you."

"That's fine. I'll see you later."

I open the familiar door to the diner. It looks the same as it did years ago. Suddenly, I'm nine years old again and my mother picked up my brothers and me early from school to take us to the doctor's office for check-ups. I spot my mother familiar brown hair. A small smile appears on my face. Maybe this the time will be different. As I walk closer to her I make sure to hide my smile.

"Hello, mother," I say as I sit down across from her. She looks up from her phone and her seemingly constant disappointed face does not disappear.

"Isabella, I can't stay long." She says as she puts her phone away.

"Then, why did you say to meet at a diner? We could have met at a Starbucks or—"

"We saw those pictures and videos of you." My mother says flatly. She barely makes eye contact and stares mostly at her cup of coffee before looking at me. No, it's more like she's looking through me.

"Y-you did? What do you mean by 'we'?"

"All of us, your cousin was the one to tell me. The entire family has seen them at this point. We also heard about you being fired from your management company. " What she doesn't say but I know she means that everyone has seen them including him.

"The situation is more complicated than you think. I didn't know about them being taken."

"Do you really think I would believe a single thing you've said after what you've put this family through?" Her eyebrows furrow but she speaks in a hushed voice.

"Excuse me?" My slightly raised voice only seems to anger her more. She gives me a look that warns me to be quiet.

"After you... spread those lies about what your father was doing to you, that damaged our family image."

"I didn't lie. They actually did happen. Why would I—why would anyone lie in detail about that?"

"I've read about girls like you who lie about things just to get attention or because something is wrong mentally. We gave you enough attention growing up so it must be the latter."

"I have never lied to you in my entire life." My voice is low but my voice is strong enough for her to hear the seriousness in my tone.

"So secretly moving out of the house on your 18th birthday and tell me you were going to be out with friends isn't lying?"

"I had to get out of there. I had to put myself first and leave before things got worse."

"I don't remember raising such a selfish whore."

That stung. I pause for a second trying to call myself down.

"I needed a way to numb the pain and block out what was happening at home. I couldn't talk to anyone and that's my fault. I didn't want Joey and Benji to be pulled out of the house and have their lives ripped apart. I didn't want you to have to lose all three of your kids as well as your husband. Even when I was going through all that I put you and my older brothers first. I should have told grandma or a teacher or anybody else."

"Stop fixating on the story you created in your head. Your father is a great man who would never lay his hand on any child, especially his own daughter."

"You know what mom, for your sake I've been dancing around this because I didn't want to cause you more pain than this information. But I'm going to say it because it is no longer healthy for me. He raped me, mom. Repeatedly for six years, dad raped me in my own bedroom at night when you were fast asleep. Before that, for as long as I could remember, he molested me almost daily. I know that you don't want to believe it and that's it hard to believe but it's true. He threatened me to avoid me from saying anything and when I finally got the courage to tell someone, you didn't believe me. You called me a liar and told everyone in the family that I was mentally unstable and told them not to believe me if I told them what was happening at home. Now you're going to sit here, in one of the places that I have so many happy memories, and do it all over again?" My mother looked taken aback by my words.

As she is about to open her mouth to reply the waitress comes over to the table and places a water cup in front of me. She looks between my mother and I. Maybe she could sense the tension between us and tried to defuse it. Maybe she's worried that we're just going to sit here and not order. I turn to her and nicely say we're fine. I turn back to my mother and see that her expression of shock and hurt have not left her face. The waitress leaves and my mother clears her throat and sits up straight.

"Don't call me that?" She says suddenly.

"Don't call you what?" I ask confused.

"Mom or mother or any other variation of the word."

"I don't—"

"When I asked you to meet with me, it was to tell you that you are no longer welcomed as a member of the family."

"Excuse me? You're kicking me out of the family?"

"You're behavior as of late has been unacceptable. Accusing Steven of such things was horrendous and traumatizing for all members of the family. To find out that you've been running around Los Angles like a slut and spreading your legs for any boy with a cute face and partying doing God knows what else is where we have to draw the line. Think about your brothers, who are actually in college trying to do something with their lives? Or your cousins? Your aunts and uncles? You think that just because you're rich enough to ruin your life you can ruin all of ours? We've had enough. You're dragging all of us down with you and tarnishing our family name in the process. I should have aborted you when I had the chance."

"I wish you had, not being born at all would probably have been better than being born into this shit show. Not that you'd care but do you know how many times I almost killed myself before I told you about what was happening? Or how much those thoughts multiplied when you told me that I was lying? Just to make things easier for everyone, I thought it would have been better to die."

"Maybe you should have, you would have saved everyone from going through all that you put us through." I stare at her in disbelief as she brushes off what she just said and reaches into her purse to grab her wallet. I quickly pull at mine and grab a $20 bill and a $50 bill. I slam the $20 bill on the table in front of her.

"No, no Lisa. You invited me out, the least I can do is pay for your coffee. Keep the change." I say flatly before getting up to leave. Before walking out of the diner I place the $50 bill in the tip jar. If they had to watch that loving family moment, they might as well get a tip from it.

When I walk out of the diner I'm visibly shaking. My face is dry and it's like my body is about to burst from all the pent up emotion. I try my best to keep it in because the last thing I need is for KeemStar talking about me having a mental breakdown in public. My head isn't even controlling my body anymore. I start walking and don't stop until I'm inside a small liquor store. I walk around mindlessly for a few seconds replaying the conversation in my head over and over again.

When I snap out of it I'm in the section with medical supplies. I eye a bottle of sleeping pills and hesitate before picking it up and walking to the counter. The woman at the counter scans my bottle not even paying attention to me. While she does that I quickly order an uber to take me home.

"Anything else?" She asked, probably wishing I don't so she can go back to doing whatever she was doing before.

"...Yeah, give me a bottle of vodka. I don't care which one." I say as I pull out my debit card. For the first time in my life, she doesn't ID me. She just looks at me for a second and then goes and gets a bottle from behind her before finishing ringing me up. Maybe her day is going just about as great as mine is and she doesn't care either.

When I walk out of the liquor store my Uber was already waiting for me. It isn't until I sit myself down into the car that I realized I bought. The rational part of my brain that usually tells me to stop doesn't. It agrees with the irrational me. Or maybe, the rational part of me is the one controlling me right now. My own mother agrees and mother knows best I guess.

**TRIGGER WARNING**

When I get into my apartment that's when all hell breaks loose. I close and lock the door and slide my back against it and cry and scream. Not only are the emotions I was holding from the conversation with my mother surfacing, but it feels like every single emotion I've ever felt is making an appearance too. I made up my mind in the car that I was going to go through with it. The whole time there was a little part of the rational side of me that kept thinking about Colby. I couldn't do this to him or anyone else the little family that I made with his friends over the past few months. But another part of me argues that I always put others before me my whole life, I deserve to put me first for once.

After calming myself down a bit I managed to get myself off the floor and placing the two bottles on the coffee table before getting a few things from my room. I walk out of my room and placed what I grabbed on the coffee table too. I wipe my tears and examine everything in front of me. I grabbed the notebook where I document everything about mine and Colby's relationship, a piece of paper, a pen, and an envelope. I can't make the biggest commitment of my life without letting Colby know how I feel and how none of this is his fault.

After pouring all my feelings and thoughts for Colby I scribble his name on the envelope and tuck it into the notebook. I took a few shots from the vodka bottle before tearfully taking small handfuls of the sleeping pills until the bottle was finished. I sat on the couch with the vodka bottle in one hand and my phone in the other. I continue to take sips; the taste seems to be numb to my mouth but still burns my throat as I force it down. I scroll through pictures of Colby that you have in your camera roll. I want his smiling face to be the last thing I see before I die. He's not going to be smiling when he finds out but this is how I want to remember him. As I scroll I see that Colby is calling me. Without thinking I answer the phone.

"Hello?" I say slowly.

"Hey babe, I'm walking up to your apartment right now. Are you home yet?" I can hear the happiness in Colby's voice as he speaks on the other end. Part of me starts to feel sad.

"Y-yeah." I choke out. I start crying more than I was before.

"How did it go with your mom?"

"Colby... I fucked up...I'm sorry... I made a mistake." I couldn't help but slur a bit. The tears are falling faster as I thinking about Colby finding me and my last memory of Colby won't be a happy one.

"What are you talking about? Are you drunk?"

Before I could say anything Colby suddenly appeared in front of me. I start crying harder, this wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't want him to see you like this. To make matters worse I feel myself slowly slipping. I'm going to die in Colby's arms and ruin his life.

"Hey, why are you crying? What happened?" Colby says as he takes the bottle out of my hand and tried to wipe my tears.

"Colby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I cry out. My voice barely making it out of my throat.

"Speak up. I can't hear you and I want to help."

"Notebook..." Was all I could say while pointing behind him. I wanted him to get the notebook but I also wanted him to see the empty bottle next to it. I started slumping down on the couch. My eyelids were getting heavier with each passing second. This is not how this is supposed to go. I watch as Colby looks at me confused. He turns around and picks up the notebook. Before he turns back around he slowly picks up the pill bottle.

"Isabella... You didn't... Oh, fuck." I watch as Colby drops the notebook and pulls out his phone.

"I'm...s...sorry" I mumble out.

"Fuck! Izzy, don't close your eyes— Hello..." Everything drifts off into peaceful darkness.

**TRIGGER WARNING OVER**

****

I wake up to the sound of a constant beep. I open my eyes and quickly shut them due to the brightness of the room. I try to rub my eyes but both of my hands are tied to something. I open my eyes to see white, fluffy fabric around both of my wrist. For a second I'm confused but then everything comes back to me. The leak, my meeting with my mother, Colby coming to my apartment early— all of it came flooding back. I examine the room and see a familiar brown haired boy sitting this his head in his hands.

"Col...by..." I whisper out. My throat feels raw and I can barely talk. His head perks up and he stares at me for a second. I can see that his eyes are red and so are his cheeks. His face is still wet with tears. It breaks my heart that I did this to him.

"You scared the shit out of me." He says while walking over to me. He stares at me for a second before going in to hug me softly, not in the near body crushing like he always does. He hugs me as if he were to apply too much pressure I would break.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop worrying about me for a second. Listen, I don't have time before they realize that you're awake and they kick me out. I just don't want you to freak out but they might try to put you on a suicide watch and I wouldn't be able to see you for about 72 hours. I'm going to write my number on you because you are allowed to call me. You probably already know my number but just in case you get overwhelmed I'll write it for you. They're going to talk to you first to see if you need to stay." Even now when I've hurt him in probably the worst way possible, he's still taking care of me. I look at his face and see the stress from who knows how long he's been waiting for me written all over it.

"Colby—" I'm cut off by a nurse who walks in and tells Colby it's time to leave. I feel tears stream down my face. I can't cover my face or wipe my tears and now I have to let Colby see me like this again.

He said they wanted to talk. To evaluate me for now. I might be worse off if I had to stay here for 72 hours. When I saw Colby's face I instantly regretted what I did. The look on his face when he found me and the state that he was in, I instantly regretted my decision and I hated myself more for even doing it. I never wanted to hurt Colby. Somehow, at that moment, I thought that it would hurt Colby less if I left him a letter. As if a letter would make up for my lack of living. I would have given up on more than myself if I actually died. I would have given up on Colby, my friends, my education, everything I wanted for my life.

[the-lupine-sojourner]

Takara’s Hero Academia [S02 E06]

Well, well, well. Here we are at least! I finally got over some writer’s block and am back with a new chapter for you guys! I’m so sorry this took so long. I just couldn’t finish this chapter for some reason, but I think Season 4 kicked me out of that funk so here we are!

 Alright, lemme tag my wonderful supporters @dailyojiromashirao​, @elite-guard-hardygal​ (who is letting me borrow her OCs, the Teichidas, very sweetly as well as being basically a beta-reader for me cus they’re just that awesome!), and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99​! Sorry again for the wait! 

Here is the Masterlist for this story for those who want to reread/catch up on previous chapters. 

I now also have a Ko-Fi account if anyone wants to support this story. It should even mean you get chapters faster. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

My teammates were walking toward us and I wave at them. 

"Sorry about that, guys." I say, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. Chiharu smiles sympathetically at me. 

"No sweat. You okay now?" 

I nod. "I got gummies." I reply shortly, clearing my throat. "So...where’d we place?" I ask. Hiyoko sighs, her arms crossed and an unreadable emotion on her face. 

"We tied with Team Tetsutetsu." Hiyoko explains, almost listlessly. I nod. 

"Cool." Was all I could think to say. Hiyoko groans. 

"This was our chance and we blew it!" She huffs. "You need to take this seriously, Takara!" I was too stunned to acknowledge that she used my first name. She thought...she thought I was…

"Hiyoko, I am taking this seriously! It sucks! I hate it cus it’s partly my fault! I should have used my Quirk better so we would’ve had a place in the finals! I’m sorry! I just can’t let myself get hung up on the past or I’ll--I’ll break down again!" I exclaim. Silence reigned and I have to walk away or I’ll break down in front of them or say something else I’d regret. Shinso follows, motioning everyone to stay.  

"Your dad said there was an hour lunch break, so we better get food now before the line gets too long." He muses. Feeling as bad as I had when I went into the bathroom, I only nod, looking at the ground as I plod along, eyes prickling as a warning of advancing tears. Hiyoko was right; no matter how positively I tried to spin it, I couldn’t deny the fact that I failed, that we wouldn’t go into the final game. And it still sucker-punched me in the gut just thinking about it. "C’mon, you said it yourself; you can’t get hung up on the past. Let’s get lunch and- -"

"Shinso, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually." I interrupt, finding something to distract myself with; the way he used his Quirk on his teammates instead of letting them be themselves. He raises a brow as I stop and turn to him, crossing my arms. "You brainwashed your teammates." I point out sourly. 

He shrugs. "That’s what my Quirk does, yeah." I grit my teeth, reaching out and smacking his shoulder. 

"Baka! What were you thinking?!" I hiss, unsure whether this sudden frustration was at myself or Shinso, but either way, I needed to let it out. 

"Ow! So what? I want to show people what I can do! I don’t see the problem, Takara." Shinso replies, rubbing his shoulder. My eye twitches. 

"Dude! You want people to know you’re an aspiring hero, right? So don’t brainwash everyone you need to team up with! Let them be themselves and build up a mutual trust as equals! It looks bad when you go around just brainwashing people cus you need a team!" 

Shinso frowns. "I know what I’m doing." 

I glare back. "I don’t think you do!" 

"Okay, fine! Look, unless we’re in combat or something, I won’t use my Quirk again, alright? Happy?!" 

I sigh heavily, the emotions fading a little. "Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have exploded at you. I’m just...frustrated and...and I guess disappointed. I should have been able to think rationally and ensure we made it to the next game, but I blew it and now I’m stuck on the sidelines, without much hope for recruitment." 

"Based strictly on your performance in the Festival, maybe not.” 

I wince, knowing that blunt truth already. 

“But,” Shinso continues, stepping a little closer, “keep in mind, people also saw and heard that you were involved with that sludge villain attack a while ago, and then in the USJ incident. If they’re smart, they’ll look at your history and see how amazing you are and give you an offer for an internship. Plus, you did pull off some amazing moves in the obstacle course and in the cavalry battle." 

I take a breath. He was right. This doesn’t mean my chances at being a pro are gone. 

I manage a smile at him. "Okay. Okay, yeah. You’re right." He nods and we head back to our class waiting rooms to grab our wallets in silence, promising to meet at the entrance to the food court, where I assume we’ll run into my other teammates and maybe some of 1-A, too.

Suddenly, I hear someone growl "All Might." I pale and instinctively inch closer out of curiosity. 

"I haven’t seen you since that press conference ten years ago." Toshin-Oji replies.  "Been a while. I saw you and figured I’d say ‘hi’." 

Whoever Toshin-Oji is talking to huffs. "Did you now?" The person says in a mocking voice. "Well, if that’s all you wanted to do, we’re done." I hear footsteps receding and the grumbling male voice muttering to themselves, then Toshin-Oji laughs and I hear motion and then a fairly heavy landing. 

"C’mon, why the cold shoulder?" All Might asks. Did he seriously not pick up on the high level of ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ this guy’s giving off? Or is there a point my uncle’s getting at here? "You should be thrilled; after all, your son’s doing very well out there, just using half his power." Was Toshin-Oji referring to Shoto, cus Shoto has two powers? If so, was he talking to- -wait...he’s talking to Endeavor?! I didn’t know those two didn’t get along to this extent. "You must be a great teacher!" I blink. Was he serious? Did he seriously just want to talk to Endeavor about teaching methods? Was he that unsure of his own teaching abilities? 

"Are you implying something?" Endeavor growls. 

"No!" Toshin-Oji replies. "I want to know your secrets. How do we train the next generation of heroes?" 

"Do you really think I’d tell you anything I’ve taught the boy? You’re all flash and no brains as usual. Outta my way!" I almost come out of my hiding place and snap at Endeavor, but manage to stay in place and bite my tongue. It was very disrespectful to talk that way to your elders, no matter how deserving they are of a lecture.

"...Okay." All Might mumbles. He finally decided to stop pressing Endeavor into talking to him. The receding footsteps halt. 

"Let me assure you of one thing, All Might." Endeavor growls, halting. "Whatever it takes, that kid of mine will beat you someday." I blink. I wasn’t terribly close to Shoto, but hearing this exchange, I might have to change that. His dad sounds like a scumbag! "I’ll make sure of it. That’s why I created him." I have to put my hand over my mouth to suppress a gasp of shock and disgust. I didn’t like the sound of that at all! If that’s Shoto’s home life...no wonder the kid’s a bit...reserved. So this sleazeball just married and had a kid so his kid could do what he couldn’t? Good God! Poor Shoto! I decide that was enough and move to walk away. "He’s in a rebellious phase right now, but he will take your place." Is the last thing I hear. Slightly horrified and disturbed, I walk away and jog to get my wallet. That feeling didn’t go away.

"Hey, are you okay?" Shinso asks when I see him. I nod. Obviously, that conversation wasn’t meant to be public, so I shouldn’t spread it around. 

"Yeah, just hungry." We walk to the cafeteria, neither needing to speak.

I hope I can still get my food now before Mom and Dad get there- -I stop short when I feel a buzz. I’d gotten a text and reluctantly open it to find it’s from Dad. 

Oto-san <3333: 

Hey Tik-Tak! You rocked it out there! Your mom and I are heading down the food court! Mind meeting us there so we can eat together???? 

I wince. The more question marks, the less option I had. I bite my lip to hold in a groan. Mom and Dad meant well and surely they knew that not everyone could get into the final game, right? They wouldn’t be mad, right? I then jump a little as I feel a hand on my shoulder. 

"Hey." Oh shit! I was feeling...weird after everything that had happened today, and who else should show up but Eijiro?! I put a smile on (genuinely happy to see him) and turn. 

"Hey." I reply, putting my phone in my pocket. "Whassup?" 

He sighs. "Saw your team’s ranking." 

I bite my lip. "Yeah...um...congrats on getting second!" I say without a whole lot of emotion. I was too drained for that. 

He chuckles. "Yeah...I’m really sorry- -" 

"Let’s not talk about that, okay?" I feel bad for interrupting him, but Eijiro just smiles a little and nods. 

"Right, right. You getting lunch?" I smile. 

"Yeah. Mom and Dad wanna meet…" I then sniffle, feeling that damn prickling again. Crap why am I crying?! My parents won’t care, right? They just want to eat with me! I’m their kid, so it’s natural! 

"Hey, hey! Don’t cry!" Eijiro cries, thankfully not too loud as he moves to hug me and I break and clutch him to me. It was stupid, but here I was, crying again over this stupid Sports Festival! I look up to see that tears were forming in Eijiro’s eyes. "Takara, really, it’s gonna be okay. I know it sucks, but I promise it’ll turn out okay, just keep your head up." 

I try to get a hold of myself and nod, wiping my tears away. "Th-thanks, Eijiro." I mumble genuinely, sniffling again. I then spot a water fountain and take a long drink from it. Again, it made me feel a bit better. Now, to lunch. Eijiro walks with me and I find my hand inching toward his, wanting to hold it, but I refrain from grabbing it. We hadn’t crossed that boundary yet. He’d think I was weird if I just grabbed his hand.

And yet, he was here, just walking beside me and being there. 

Much as Shinso had been for me, but this was different. Shinso was an amazing help but Eijiro was a different but equally valuable type of support. 

We slowly make our way to the cafeteria, not needing words, just each other’s presence and then I saw both my parents and my teammates. 

I wave, feeling my heart skip in anxiety as I approach. Mom smiles at me, and Dad’s first to reach me, scooping me up and swinging me around. 

"You did awesome out there, Tik-Tak!" He exclaims. I blink as he sets me back down. I spot Shinso giving me a ‘told you so’ look in my peripheral vision.

"But...but I didn’t...I didn’t get into the final game." I mumble, my heart wanting to believe they weren’t going to be upset, but my head unconvinced just yet for some reason. 

"These things happen, Takara." Mom says, hand on my shoulder. "Next time, though, don’t let your emotions get the best of you and be able to think on your feet." 

"And don’t make yourself pass out!" Dad snaps, playfully smacking my shoulder. "That was really foolish, sweetheart!" I rub the smacked shoulder and nod. 

"Yeah I know." I blush at being scolded in front of my classmates and those I’d teamed up with. Mom then comes to my rescue. 

"Well, enough about that; who are your new friends?" She asks. 

"We’re not quite friends, Ma’am, but my name is Hiyoko Teichida and this is my stepbrother, Ryuji." Hiyoko replies before anyone else can. I roll my eyes. 

"Don’t pretend you don’t love me." I tease. Hiyoko scoffs. 

"I’ve never pretended to do or be anything." I laugh and throw my arm around Chiharu’s shoulder. 

"Suuurrreee...Anyway, this is my friend, Chiharu! She’s that third year I bumped into’s little sister." Mom and Dad nod. 

"We’re the Yamadas, if you didn’t know." Dad says, gesturing between Mom and himself. "We teach- -" 

"I know." Chiharu interjects gently. "You guys kinda have a rep around the school." Dad laughs. 

"I see." Mom frowns. 

"I understand Hizashi having one, but how do I have a rep?" I raise a brow, chuckling. 

"You expelled an entire class." I retort. Mom has an ‘ooohhhh’ face and nods. 

"Right." Dad puts his arm around Mom and I’s shoulders as I release Chiharu. 

"I don’t know about you guys but I’m starving!" 

I laugh. "Yeah me too!" We get food and find a table to sit at, but couldn’t find one with enough room for my friends, so I sit with my parents. We were close to the girls of 1-A, and I wave at them. 

"You okay after passing out?" Dad asks, hand on my shoulder. I nod, looking down. 

"Yeah. Um, I got gummies and water and feel better." 

"That’s good." Mom replies, thankfully not pressing me for details. "Eat." I do, and look directly at my parents. 

"...Thanks for not focusing on me in the commentary." I mumble. Mom nods. 

"I know the audience made things worse for me during my first Festival and I didn’t want to subject you to that if I could avoid it." I smile at her. 

"Thank you." I reply, feeling relief flood me. They weren’t upset at all that I hadn’t made it into the final game. Deep down, I’d known that, but it was so reassuring to hear it directly from them, in their own way of saying it. 

We enjoyed the rest of our meal in silence before it happened. 

At first, I thought nothing of Denki and the creep walking over to the girls’ table, though I noted it out of the corner of my eye and through my earth quirk. 

Then I overheard what they said. 

Mom had gone to the bathroom and Dad went to get a refill on his drink. Seemingly by chance, the boys chose right then to approach the table. 

"Yaoyorozu, Jiro." I hear Denki call. I look over curiously. He sounded serious...

"Uh-huh? Did you need something?" Momo asks, turning to look at him as well. I sip at my drink. Mineta motions to the cheerleaders passing by. 

"Well, I’m sure you already know, since you’re, like, the class rep, but they said all the girls have to wear those uniforms for the big cheer battle this afternoon." That did it. There was no cheer battle! Those perverts just want to get the girls in those skimpy outfits. I slam the chair back and stand, stalking over. 

"Uh, h-hey, Takara!" Denki cries. They weren’t counting on me interfering, apparently. I cross my arms and tap my foot, making a show of thinking. 

"You know...I just can’t quite remember…" I mumble. Denki’s stupid enough to take the bait. 

"Can’t remember...what, exactly?" I whirl on him angrily. 

"Remember when either of my parents told me about this quote-unquote cheer battle!" I snap, arms stick straight at my sides, my anger clear on my face.

"W-well, they probably assumed you- -"

"Don’t try me!" I snap. "They said no such thing and you know it, you perverts!" The boys stutter and stammer for a reply and I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Go back to your lunches before I smack you two!" I growl. The boys slink off, muttering to themselves as I sigh heavily and put my hands on my hips. 

"God, they’re idiots." I grumble, turning to the table of girls. 

"Those little perverts!" Kyoka growls, crossing her arms over her stomach. 

"I almost fell for it. Thanks, Takara." Momo adds, hand over her chest in relief. I nod. 

"Anytime. Someone needs to put those two creeps in their place. Honestly, I’m surprised Denki was a part of the scheme, but I guess all boys have that side, to some degree." I mumble to myself, roll my eyes, then turn to the girls’ table and smile. "Enjoy your lunch!" I chirp, turning to walk off. It struck me then that Eijiro most definitely wouldn’t have been a part of that scheme. He’d have put a stop to it sooner than I did, if he knew it was happening. He was a gentleman who had respect for women.

"Thanks, Yamada!" Ochaco calls after me, interrupting my thoughts. I wave back and sit down just as my parents come into my field of vision. I sip at my water and pretend I hadn’t moved. 

"Something happen?" Dad asks as he sits down, chuckling. "Kaminari and Mineta look scared to death." 

I shrug. "They probably got called out on something." I reply, unable to help a smirk. Mom and Dad crack a small smile and chuckle. Figures they'd see through it.

"I see. Well, let’s hurry up and finish. I want a little nap before the finals." I bite my lip. I’d be stuck in the stands the entire time. 

"Yeah, you’re right." Dad replies, standing. He smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "We’ll see you later, Tik-Tak." He says, drawing me in for a hug. I hug him back. 

"See you." I briefly hug mom and walk over to the table Eijiro sat at after throwing my garbage away. He smiles at me and I feel warmer all of a sudden. 

"Hey, Kara!" He greets. 

"Hey. You all about ready to head out?" I ask. Eijiro nods, standing. 

"If you are, sure!" He grabs the last few bites and swallows almost without chewing, then grabs his tray and all his trash. I smile and hold up my hands. 

"Don't mean to rush you, Eijiro." I reply. He comes back to me, smiling. 

"Seriously, Kara, I was leaving anyway." He then starts walking and I catch up. This time, I swear Eijiro's hand inches toward mine, even barely touching it, and I can't help feeling like his touch was magical, warming the skin his hand touched.

=#=#=#=#=

“Get those hands in the air! It’s almost time for the last round!” Dad cheers from the commentary booth, and I can’t help smiling in amusement. He absolutely loved commentating. 

One of my favorite memories involved pretending I was saving an entire city while Dad played the part of the frazzled but awestruck news reporter who was caught up in the action with his cameraman, and man did Dad ever dive into the role. I shake myself and pay attention. “But before that, good news for those who didn’t make the finals!” I knew what he was about to say; there were games to play.

As soon as he explains the next game to the finalists, I’d leave. I didn’t feel like playing any games. 

“Have fun competing in those side games, everyone!” Dad encourages. The screen then displays a tournament-style ranking system, and I realize what the final ‘game’ is. It’s a sparring tournament. “After they’re over, the 16 students from the top four teams will be duking it out 1-on-1 in a tournament style competition! I promise you’re not gonna want to miss these epic matchups!” I smile. I’d be watching and cheering my classmates and Shinso on. 

“Aww yeah! Finally getting a chance to show what we’re made of!” I almost forgot I was so close to Eijiro, scooting just a little away to give him some space. His eyes and his expression shift into something like elation and excitement, the area seeming lighter as a result. I blush a little, accidentally staring at him. His eyes were locked on the screen, though, so he didn’t seem to notice. “I’ve watched these finals every year and now I’m finally in them!” I smile, feeling happy for him and his excitement. It was hard not to, given the look on his face.

“So, wait...is it always a tournament?” Mina asks curiously. 

“The final’s always a 1-on-1 competition, but they switch it up every time.” Hanta explains, smiling in excitement as well. 

I nod. “When my parents were in the Festival, they had to spar with foam boxing gear and could use their Quirks to distract or block their opponents, but not attack directly. It was a weird way to fight but it taught them new applications for their Quirks.” I add, not feeling a bit resentful or jealous of those around me who were finalists. 

“Come closer and draw lots to see who you’re up against.” That almost breaks my good mood, but I maintain it by thinking of getting to watch and take notes on all the amazing fights. It’ll be fascinating to see how each of my classmates and the other classes that were in the finals fight and interact. “Then enjoy the pleasure of the Recreational Games before we start. The 16 finalists have the option of participating in those activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I’m sure you all want to converse your stamina.” Oba Nemuri continues, then walks a little closer. “I’ll start with the first place team.” She says, but suddenly Ojiro puts his hand up. I turn to look at him, surprised. What was he up to? 

“Um...excuse me.” He murmurs, seeming nervous. “Sorry, but I’m withdrawing.” That sends a shock through everyone. 

“What? That’s crazy!” I exclaim before I can stop myself. 

“No way!” Izuku adds. 

“This is a rare chance for you to get scouted!” Tenya protests. Ojiro puts his hand down, staring into space. 

“It just wouldn’t be right.” I suddenly remember he was on Shinso’s team, if I’m not mistaken. “I barely remember anything from the Cavalry Battle until the very end of it.” I wince. He was definitely on Shinso’s team. “I think it was that guy’s Quirk.” Thankfully, he doesn’t point out Shinso. I spot him in my peripheral vision and meet his eye. I glance to Ojiro with a stern look to say ‘see what I was talking about?’ and Shinso looks only a little remorseful, but not terribly concerned about the consequences of his actions either. I sigh and refocus on Ojiro. “I know this is a great opportunity. I wish I could take advantage of it, but my conscience won’t let me.” I have to admit, I could see where Ojiro is coming from here, but at the same time…

“Just think about this.” Izuku pleads, stepping a little closer. 

“I have, okay?” Ojiro replies, and I can tell he was upset that it had come to this, but his mind was made up. “Everyone gave their all in Round 2, but I was just someone’s puppet. No way. I don’t want to advance if I don’t even know how I got here. It wouldn’t be far.” 

“That’s not true!” I chime in. “Ojiro, please. You don’t remember, yeah, but you still did good! You still earned a spot in the finals! There’s only 16 kids here that can say that! Do it for them if you have to, but please don’t waste this chance!” 

“Kara’s right!” Hagakure adds, shaking her gloved hands around. “You’re making too much of this! Just kill it in the finals and prove you should be there!” I nod my agreement. 

“Yeah, what the girls said.” Mina is next to speak, smiling. “I didn’t do much in the battle either.” Ojiro puts his hand over his eyes, seeming to shake slightly in emotion. 

“That’s not it.” He replies. I decide to leave the decision ultimately up to Ojiro. After all, we were kind of dog-piling on him. “I’m talking about my pride here. I refuse to give that up.” Everyone seems to join me in giving up trying to change Ojiro’s mind. Before Oba can decide what to do with Ojiro’s withdrawal, there’s another development. 

Another kid walked closer to the stage Oba was on. “Nirengeki Shoda from Class 1-B. I think I should withdraw for the exact same reason. Regardless of how strong I am, this isn’t how I wanted to get here!” I blink. This kid was as moral as Ojiro, unwilling to sacrifice his pride or personal values just to get into the finals. “It would go against the values of the festival to advance without earning my spot!” Ojiro seems more relaxed now he had someone agreeing with him and joining him. 

Beside me, Eijiro seems emotional, tears brimming in his eyes. 

“Listen to these guys!” He murmurs, “They’re so manly!” I chuckle and pat his shoulder. 

“No need to cry, dude.”

“I can’t help it.” He replies, wiping his eyes. “Sorry.” 

“You’re okay.” 

“Well now,” Dad says over the PA, unsure where this was going, “this is another weird turn of events.” Mom hums. 

“We’ll have to see what Midnight has to say about all this. She’s the one in charge.” 

For her part, Oba seems to be thinking it over. She then holds out her whip. “This sort of talk is incredibly naive, my boys!” She reprimands sternly, cracking the whip to punctuate what she was saying. “That turns me on!” I turn bright red. 

“Can she not talk like that on live TV?” I moan, facepalming as everyone takes in what she said. 

“Shoda, Ojiro, you’re withdrawn!” She doesn’t seem to be in the least affected by what she said. She then puts his hand to her chin in thought. “Let’s see...we’ll have to move up two students from the fifth-place cavalry team so we have enough contestants.” That was true. That was...Kendo’s team, right? Wasn’t she the red-head I took the headband from? 

Confirming my thoughts as if on cue, the girl I took the headband from raises a hand a bit. Yeah, she’s Kendo. 

“We were frozen most of the time.” She points out. “Honestly we barely did anything in the calvary battle, right girls?” It seems Ojiro and Shoda’s withdrawal inspired students to act on their morals and pride. Kendo looks to her teammates for confirmation, which was provided in nods. “You should choose from the group that kept fighting the whole time.” Wait... didn’t my teammates and I tie with Tetsutetsu? That means...maybe I have a chance! 

“Kendo!” Tetsutetsu protests, shocked his classmate would give up her chance in the finals too.

“I’m not doing this as a favor.” She explains, “It’s just fair.” Tetsutetsu seems as emotional as Eijiro had gotten. 

“Seriously you guys! Thank you!” He cries. 

“Hmmm,” Oba all but purrs, tapping her finger on her chin, “Team Teichida and Team Tetsutetsu were tied in the match.” She announces, seeming to think it over a bit. “Now...what to do about that…” She then snaps her fingers. “Oh, I know! We’ll add a thrilling wildcard and open four slots!” Everyone is shocked and Oba wriggles delightedly. 

“Wait what?!” Dad exclaims, “Midnight, what are you thinking!?” 

“Just what I said; a wild card element will be so much fun!” Oba runs a hand through her hair, licking her lips and making everyone uncomfortable, “Besides, it’ll work out as long as there are still an even number of contestants. It just means one extra match!” She explains, waving aside any concerns. “Now, Team Teichida and Team Tetsutetsu will have to vote who goes into the finals! Two from each team to make it fair!” She announces. “Teams, get together and discuss it!” Suddenly, Hiyoko was in front of me, Ryuji not far behind. I jump a little. 

“So?” Hiyoko asks, getting straight to the point. I notice Chiharu walking up behind the Teichidas and wave at her. Hiyoko huff impatiently. “Who’s going into the finals?” She presses, crossing her arms. I sigh. 

“Honestly, Chiharu can go. I screwed us up in the cavalry battle, so she should go.” I mumble. Chiharu instantly grabs my shoulders. 

“Are you crazy?! I’d be eliminated first round I fight in! I know that! I don’t have that much physical might. Compared to the others in the finals, I’m not up to the task.” She replies. I frown, gently peeling her hands off before she gave me whiplash. 

“Chiharu, really, I- -”

“You’re going, sis.” She interrupts, smiling at me. “Just kick butt for me, okay?” I look her in the eyes, really wanting to take her offer but wanting to make sure she actually wanted me to go to the finals. 

“You sure? This is a big deal...” It was a moment in the spotlight, and an opportunity to get recruited by pro heroes for an internship. 

“Yes!” She barks before I could press her further. “Honestly I know my limits and this fighting competition thing is beyond me. You do your best and have fun. Don’t worry.” I sigh. 

“If you’re sure, then...thank you.” She pats my shoulder. Hiyoko nods, then turns to her step-brother. 

“Alright, now that that’s settled, you go, Ryuji-boy.” Ryuji seems taken aback. 

“Wait what?” He asks. “Hiyoko-nee...are you...are you sure?” She nods. 

“Yeah.” It was clear she didn’t actually want Ryuji to go, but she was being a big sister. “This is your time in the spotlight, so don’t waste it, baka.” She grumbles. Ryuji looks his sister in the eye. 

��Hiyoko, seriously. I know what you’re doing. I want you to go.” 

“No! This is your chance to show yourself for once, you idiot! Now get out there and kick ass!” Ryuji shakes his head. 

“Not this time. Look, you need to do something for yourself here, Hiyoko. I know what this means to you. I promise I’ll be fine. You deserve this. Besides, there’s always next year.” Hiyoko seems to be trying to contain herself, but I think she appreciated the sacrifice Ryuji was making. She playfully smacks his shoulder. 

“Don’t get mad at me when I’m in the spotlight, okay?” 

He smiles. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I look to Hiyoko. 

“So, looks like we’re going to the finals.” I muse, smirking. 

“If we fight, and we might, I’ll take you down.” I scoff. 

“We’ll see.” 

With Hiyoko, sometimes you had to return fire with fire. We watch Team Tetsutetsu discussing which members would go, soon reaching the conclusion that Tetsutetsu and some girl with vines for hair were going to the finals. Together the four of us approach Oba. “So, you four were agreed upon unanimously?” Oba asks. I nod. 

“Yup!” She smiles, cracking the whip. 

“Perfect! It’s been decided that Teichida Hiyoko, Yamada Takara, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, and Ibara Shiozaki are to fill the open slots in the final round.” We all quickly draw lots and file them to see who we had to fight. She then points with her whip to the screen, where the lots were filled in. “Take a look at the brackets, my dears! That’s who you’ll be fighting!” The crowd cheers as they read the screen and who will be fighting who. I scan and spot my name...right next to Hiyoko’s. Crap! She jinxed it! 

I then continue across the brackets and spot Eijiro’s name and see that he’s fighting Tetsutetsu. I laugh. “Seriously?!” Eijiro growls. “How does this keep happening?!” Tetsutetsu was nearby since we were the finalists. I laugh harder. 

The other pairs assess each other, exchanging brief words of various subjects, mostly ‘I’ll do my best to beat you’ type talk. 

Appearing once again like magic, Hiyoko’s voice comes over my shoulder. 

“We’re against each other.” She murmurs, eyes on the screen. I jump. 

“I need to put a bell on you or something.” I grumble, hand on my chest. 

“Don’t be a whimp.” Hiyoko sniffs. “I expect a good fight, Yamada.” So she was back to calling me by my last name. Great. 

“Just remember you asked for it.” I reply, crossing my arms and smirking. “Tell you what; I win you call me Takara or Kara. I lose, you can call me Yamada.” She frowns. 

“What?” I chuckle. 

“I prefer Takara to Yamada, so let’s make a bet.” I explain. She chuckles. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll take that bet, Yamada.” She walks off before I can reply, and I shake my head. Always a mystery, that one. 

I then notice that Izuku is against Shinso. I look around and find Shinso walking over to Izuku. He acts casual, glancing at the board like that was why he was there. 

“That is you, right?” He asks calmly. “Izuku Midoriya?” Izuku jumps, startled but manages a nod. Shinso smiles. “A pleasure. So, you excited?” I notice Ojiro walking over like he knew what could happen. I walk faster to get over there. Izuku opens his mouth, but before I can call out or Izuku can speak, Ojiro has his tail over Izuku’s mouth. 

“Not so fast.” He grumbles, glaring at Shinso like he’d been about to hurt Izuku. I finish my approach. 

“There you are, Shinso!” I call. Ojiro is so startled, he releases Izuku. 

“Hey, Takara.” Shinso replies, smiling. “So you got in after all. Congrats.” I chuckle. 

“Yeah, pure luck.” Ojiro looks ready to pop from either confusion or anger. 

“Wait, Takara, you know this guy?” I frown at Ojiro. 

“Yeah I do. We went to middle school together.” 

“So you know his Quirk?” I sigh. 

“Yes. I do. He’s never used it on me, though. I know you don’t believe me, but Shinso’s a good guy.” Ojiro scoffs, then walks away. Izuku looks between us before going after Ojiro. I decided to stay with Shinso. 

“Thanks for that.” I sigh. 

“No problem.” 

“I know what you’re gonna say.” He says before I could say anything else. I raise a brow. 

“Oh?” I ask. 

“Yeah. It’s because of me brainwashing my team for the cavalry battle that the tail guy is suspicious of me.” I nod. 

“Well glad you know that.” I mumble. “Look, Shinso; you keep pulling stunts like that, people will never see past the Quirk. I’m sorry to be blunt but it’s true. You have to earn people’s trust, make them see how good a person you are.” He chuckles. 

“You keep saying that. I know that in my head, but sometimes I get carried away.” 

“That’s gonna happen but you have to keep a level head here. I get you’ll have to use it in these fights, but use it sparingly, okay?” Shinso smirks. 

“Takara, I’ll win. No one knows how to break my hold on them, so I’ll win easily.” 

“Unless you fight me. I know how to break free if you use it on me.” I point out. 

“Takara, I’ll keep my promise. I’ve been looking at fighting styles, so I’ll try my best at physical fighting if we’re paired up.” I nod. 

“To make it fair I won’t use my Quirk on you, either. It’ll be a normal fight.” Shinso ruffles my hair. 

“Trust you to play fair even when you know it’s not the smart play.” He notes. I roll my eyes. 

“Whatever, dork. You’ll see what I can do when I fight.” 

“Yeah yeah. See yah around.” I wave him off. I then went to find Izuku. 

“Okay, let’s push pause for a momentary interlude!” Dad cheers. “Before the battles begin, it’s time for some pulse-pounding side games!” I take that as a cue to leave, not interested in the games. The less my blood sugar yo-yos the better. 

Arriving in the 1-A waiting room, I find Izuku and Ojiro there. 

“Can I beat something like that?” Izuku was asking as I take a seat as if I were meant to be here. The boys look surprised, but they accept my presence readily. I tilt my head. 

“Sorta. If it were any other circumstance than 1-on-1 fights, you could be able to.” I explain automatically. Then realize the question was at Ojiro. “Sorry.”

“No you know him better, apparently.” He replies. I nod. 

“He’s actually pretty powerful, in a way. People who don’t know his Quirk wouldn’t be able to break out of his control. You answer a question, you’re his, but there is a way out. Simply put; you need external stimuli, like a push or pinch. Something to jolt your adrenaline and stimulate pain. It doesn’t need to be something extreme, just a little.” Izuku nods. 

“Which means I can’t rely on that.” I nod. 

“That’s what I meant by you maybe winning in anything but a 1-on-1 match.” I reply, sighing. “Honestly, your best shot is saying nothing to him and fighting him hand-to-hand.” I then run a hand down my face. “I don’t know who to root for, but I guess I wanted to even the playing field.” I continue. Izuku sighs. 

“Even though you know him, thanks for telling me.” 

“Don’t sweat it. Understand if Shinso asks I’ll tell him the basics of your power.” Izuku seems to pick up what I was saying (I wouldn’t reveal his secret but I’d give Shinso something to go on) and nods. 

“Of course. Thanks again.” I smile. 

“Good luck. He’ll try to get you to talk.” 

Izuku fist-bumps Ojiro and I and we walk together back out to the arena. 

“You told him?” Shinso asks after I separate from my friends. I stop walking. 

“It felt fair. I’m sorry.” I reply softly. 

“You know what doesn’t change my strategy, right?” 

I nod. “I guess that’s why I told him. I knew it wouldn’t matter to you, but I felt it fair to warn him.” 

Shinso sighs. “Fair or not, it’s done. Honestly, it won’t matter. I’ll still find a way to make him talk and get him under my Quirk.” 

I smirk. “You’ll try. I’ll watch you. Honestly, I don’t know who to vote for.” 

“I don’t expect you to vote for anyone. It’s enough that you’re watching and not judging me by my Quirk.” I ruffle his hair. 

“You know it!” I then wave and make my way to the Class 1-A seating and sit down, sighing contentedly. 

“I saw your ranking, Takara. It’s fortunate you got into the final round.” Comes Tenya’s voice behind me. I start a little and turn to look at him. 

“Yeah...congrats on getting into the finals too!” I reply, genuinely happy for him. He deserved it. He smiles a little. 

“It was thanks to Todoroki’s leadership.” He says humbly. “But thank you.” I nod. 

“Anytime.” One of the things I liked about Tenya is that he never forced conversation, always saying what he wanted to say then leaving it at that. I turn to watch the games, almost feeling bad for skipping them, but I needed a rest. I still felt a bit tired from all the excitement of the day. 

“I saw you’re up against someone from your cavalry team, that right?” 

I nod. “Yeah. She was the leader of our team She’s a nut, but I like her.” 

Tenya smiles. “Trust you to make friends of your enemies.” 

I roll my eyes. “She’s not an enemy. No one here is really an enemy. This is a friendly competition at heart. This isn’t meant to divide people.” 

Tenya chuckles. “I suppose so. Still, it is a competition. You have to treat it like one.” 

“I know.” The relative quiet of the arena settled between us again. I watch Cementoss begin to create the platform for the coming matches using his Quirk. “I hope to have that kind of control of my Quirk one day. I mean he’s not even trying and he’s making an entire structure.” I’d spoken without thinking, leaning back in my chair in the row with the best view of the arena. 

“Hmm, full control of your Quirk is an admirable goal, Takara. I think you have the drive to achieve it, based on what I’ve seen so from you.” I smile, looking him in the eye. 

“Thanks, Tenya. That means a lot.” I tell him. I then see Cementoss create the last little bit of the platform and stand. 

“That’s it. I’m pretty much done here.” He says. 

“Thank you, Cementoss!” Dad cheers, the screen showing him smiling happily, waving his arms, and in general being Dad. “Hey, sports fans! Are you ready?!” The response is instant and loud, the cheering almost rattling the entire stadium. “After all the action you’ve already witnessed, it’s time for the real battles to begin! Can you feel the excitement! Our competitors are on their own now. Sometimes heroes only have themselves to rely on. Heart, skill, strength, wisdom, courage! They’ll have to use all these things to rise to the top!” My class had been filtering in while I was focused on what was going on, I notice, as Dad pauses for the cue that the fight could start. It comes fairly quickly, Dad having timed things fairly well. The cue, flames from the corners further from where the actual fight would be held. “Alright, audience! Let’s cut to the good stuff and not delay these finals any longer!” Dad spreads his arms. “Welcome our first fighters!” 

The screen displays Shinso and Izuku. We’d had our picture taken before being shown to the waiting room. We were all decidedly nervous, but Izuku showed it a bit too much. He looked like someone had threatened him. “Whoa! He looks kinda scared in that picture, doesn’t he?” Dad teases as the boys walk toward the platform. “It’s Izuku Midoriya from the Hero Course, versus Hitoshi Shinso from General Studies, a guy who hasn’t done anything to stand out yet. The rules are simple! Immobilize your opponent or force them out of the ring! You can also win by making the other person cry ‘Uncle’!” Dad smirks. “Bring on the injuries cus we’ve got our very own Recovery Girl waiting on standby! So put your morals aside and don’t be afraid to play dirty!” I sigh. Did he really have to talk like that? “But of course no life-threatening crap, folks. That’s not allowed! Real heroes use their powers to throw villains in jail, not kill them!” 

Cementoss sits in the referee’s chair, waving a little as he did. “I’ll stop anyone who gets too rough.” He murmurs. Izuku takes a deep breath, preparing for his match. 

“So you can just give up, huh?” Shinso asks. “In a way, this is a test of how strong your spirit is. If you know what  you want your future to hold for you, you can’t worry about what other people think.” I smile proudly at him. I think I said something very similar to him once. I’m glad he’s taking it to heart. 

“Ready?!” Dad cheers, about to officially start the match. 

‘That monkey was going on about his pride earlier,” Dad talks over Shinso to start the match, but neither fighter moves to engage the other, “but I just think he’s an idiot for throwing away his chance like that.” 

I bite my lip. Shinso had said he’d try to get Izuku to talk, but this seemed over the top in some ways. Talking so negatively about Ojiro was a harsh way to get Izuku to talk and fall under his Quirk. 

Unfortunately, Izuku was taking the bait, eyes narrowing in anger. He starts walking forward, livid. I bite my lip, knowing what was about to happen. 

“Don’t you talk about him that way!” Izuku roars, slowing and appearing listless as Shinso’s Quirk takes hold. Shinso smirks as Izuku eyes gloss over. 

“That’s it. I win.” I sigh. It was just like Shinso said; he’d get his opponents under his Quirk, and then it would be over. With no one close enough to jolt Izuku out of Shinso’s control, Shinso could secure victory fairly easily. 

He might even be able to win the entire festival just using his Quirk. As long as he could get people to talk to him he’d win. 

“Aaahhh! I warned him not to say anything!” Oijiro groans, hands on his head. He was hoping he’d helped Izuku win against Shinso. 

To be honest, I’m not terribly surprised at this outcome. Shinso knows how to get people to talk, even if it is a bit harsh. 

“Hey, what’s the dealyo?!” Dad cries, “This is the first match, and it’s started with a bang! The fight has just begun and Izuku Midoriya is completely frozen!” 

I watch as Izuku remains still, awaiting Shinso’s order to walk out of bounds. If something doesn’t change, Izuku will lose this match and be out of the tournament!

[sprnklersplashes]

weathering the storm

AO3 

Janis x Gretchen one shot.  Janis comes to Gretchen's rescue as she tries to walk home on a miserable afternoon. Being in her old/new friend's house is odd, but nowhere near as odd as the growing feelings inside her; both new and unfamiliar. But maybe there's more to her daring and bold classmate than Gretchen thought; and maybe there's more to herself too.

Rain pours down over the suburban streets, even heavier than the news had warned, accompanied by claps of thunder that seem to shake the sky. As she tries to make her way home through the near-flooded streets, Gretchen pulls her jacket tighter around her, although if she’s honest, it’s not much of a jacket. It’s thin and flimsy, held together with a silver broach and used more for decoration than any actual warmth. But it was the only garment she was able to find in her closet that morning that went with her blue top and knee-length white skirt. All of which she is fiercely regretting now. Even with her tights, her legs are covered in goose bumps and rain clings to them like little kids in stores clinging to their moms. The rain hits the back of her neck and head hard, mussing up her carefully-styled dark hair, and her back and shoulders ache from shivering. And all that is without thinking about the pain in her ankles from trying to navigate the uneven street in her heels when she can barely see in front of herself. In short, Gretchen a lot like the weather. Completely and utterly miserable.

She rolls her shoulder around, trying to ease the pain that the weight of her bag brings. She decided to bring more books than she needed today, hoping to get into some studying after the library. She needs to get some sort of grasp on chemistry, otherwise she’ll have to face another D, and the workload for English is getting greater with every passing class so that even with dedicating her free periods to it, she feels like she’s watching her classmates speed ahead of her and leave her in the dust. Part of her begins to wish she had left some books in her locker, despite having never opened her locker since freshman year. She left a book there by mistake and ever since, the idea of opening her locker has forms a heavy weight in her stomach.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when she feels a wave crashing over her; cold water attacking her side and nearly toppling her. It’s partly her fault; these shoes were definitely not made for walking in. Gasping, she pushes a thick clump of wet hair away from her face just in time to see a small dark blue car speeding off into the distance, as well as a large grey puddle rippling beside her.

Gretchen feels her face crumple. Hot tears spill over her cheeks, a startling contrast to the cold of the rain and wind. The puddle attack had already left her breathless, but now as her chest tightens and sobs wreck through her sore body, it’s feeling next to impossible.

She tenses as another pair of headlights roll up beside her in her peripheral vision and make two bright yellow circles on the puddle. She tenses even more as the truck the headlights belong to slows down. She’s heard horror stories in assembly of kids who are offered lifts home from school. At least her heels are probably sharp enough to use as a weapon. And her bag heavy enough to use as a bludgeon. And she has her phone on her.

Except the window rolls down and she doesn’t see a man with a kind face but cunning eyes; she sees Janis. Her classmate, slash old friend, slash possible new friend, half leaning on the window of her pick-up truck, in all her purple lipsticked, thick mascara-ed glory.

“You okay there, Gretch?” she asks.

“Fine,” she says, shouting a little over the rain. She blinks are more tears make their way down her face.  “Just.. bad weather.”

“Yeah, it’s a bitch,” Janis replies. She slaps the side of her truck. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Oh, no,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s fine, really. I-I like walking.” Janis raises an eyebrow. “Okay, well, maybe not, but I don’t live that far away.”

“Yes, you do,” she replies. “Unless you moved in the last five years.” Gretchen curses under her breath. Janis went to her house plenty of times back when they were still friends. She’s sat in the back of Gretchen’s mom’s cat as they drove back from the park to her place. “And you are not walking that distance. Come on, get in. You can even pick the music.”

“No,” she says again, shaking her head. “It’s fine. Thanks, Janis, really, but I don’t need a ride.”

“Gretchen,” Janis says sternly, looking at how her wet clothes cling to her. “Either you get in or I will go out there myself and drag you in here.”

“Okay,” she sighs, cringing at the idea of Janis tossing her over her shoulder and pushing her into the passenger seat of her truck. “Fine.” She scurries around to the passenger door and climbs in, much to Janis’ pleasure. She’s smiling triumphantly as she closes the door.

“There we go,” she says, turning up the heat on the dashboard. Within seconds Gretchen feels warm air all around her, as though it’s wrapping her in a tight hug. She has to hold herself back from sighing in relief as Janis pulls away from the kerb. She’s frowning at the scene in front of her, window wipers moving frantically in a race between them and the weather. The sky is completely grey, just as it was when Gretchen woke up this morning. “Beautiful weather. What were you even doing walking in it?” She asks bluntly, no intention of holding back even a little, and for some reason it makes Gretchen smile.

“Well, Regina left school before me,” she explains. “She’s usually my ride home but I wanted to stay in the library. And Karen couldn’t stay either. And the buses have been cancelled.”

“Why? Regina’s not around,” Janis states, a broad grin on her face.

Gretchen falls against the back of the chair, covering her mouth with her hand as high pitched giggles fill the car. She knows it’s rude to laugh about what happened to Regina; she feels bad about it now and she’ll definitely feel worse later. But… well that was funny. And she does have the beck brace off now.

“It’s because of the weather,” she tells her.

“Yeah well maybe they were right there,” Janis says, leaning forward in her seat. “Can’t see shit out here.” She rolls her purple lips into a thin line, her brow furrowing in thought. She turns to look at Gretchen just in time for a shiver to run through her body. “Hey, I live a lot closer than you do. Why don’t we go to my place, you can dry off there, and then maybe call your mom? I’m pretty sure Sabrina here is going to short out if I try to take her that far.”

“Sabrina?”

“My truck.” She shrugs, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world for a white, slightly rusted truck to be named after a TV witch. “So my place?”

“Sure,” she says, curling her hands into tight fists so that her long nails press into her palms. Truthfully, she doesn’t want to go to Janis’ house and take up space there and use up her towels. But she also doesn’t want to walk out all the way to her house. And she’s not sure Janis would let her. “Thank you. So much.”

“I’m just letting you crash in my place, Gretch,” she says softly. “Not giving you a kidney.” Gretchen huffs a small laugh. Janis drums her fingers on the steering wheel, singing along to the Alanis Morrisette song coming from her CD player and bopping her head along. Janis walks through the halls like she’s in her own world, like Gretchen is on the other side of some glass wall watching her paint rainbows on the walls, taking up as much space as she likes and making all the noise she wants and not caring when people roll their eyes at her. Sometimes she wishes she could join her.

“Here we go,” Janis says, pulling up in front of her house. “Casa Janis. Or Maison Janis.” The house looks fairly familiar, not having changed much since she was here last. Small and white with a black painted roof and a flower box in one of the downstairs windows. Those flowers are being well fed now. Janis jumps out of the truck and opens the back to lift a heavy looking A3 folder out of it before running up the path, Gretchen following tightly behind her.

“I’m back!” she calls as they step into the hallway. The light is on and warmth seeps into Gretchen’s bones even with her wet clothes clinging to her skin.

“Janice!” a voice from further into the house, followed by a long stream of French that Gretchen can barely hear, never mind understand or translate. Janis responds in French as well; it rolls so perfectly off her tongue you’d think she had grown up in Paris.

“Oh that’s right! Your dad’s French!” As soon as she’s said it she regrets it. Despite weeks of trying, she still can’t seem to get herself under control. Something comes into her head and races out her mouth before she can even think about it. She steps back, goose bumps prickling on her arms that aren’t from the cold. Even Janis’ light giggle and fond smile doesn’t dispel her worries.

“Yep. But the rule is we speak English when there’s friends over.” She turns back to where her dad must be and calls again. “Dad! I’ve brought a friend over!” With that, Janis begins climbing up the stairs. She’s up four when she turns and motions for Gretchen to come with her.

“Okay!” he replies. “Which friend?”

“Gretchen,” she replies before running up the stairs, taking two at a time, and leading Gretchen into the first door on the right; her bedroom.

Just like the girl herself, Janis’ bedroom has changed dramatically since they were 13. The once blue walls are painted purple now, her single bed gone and replaced by a queen sized with a red and black check cover over it and about four plush, soft looking pillows. In the midst of all those pillows is a small toy cat, probably no bigger than Gretchen’s hand, with black fur and little white paws.

“Purrlock!” she exclaims, picking him up. Janis turns from where she stands at her open closet and laughs slightly as Gretchen holds her little cat. “Aw, I remember him. God you used to take him everywhere. Like to my sleepover when I was 11. The one for my birthday.”

“He’s my little kitty,” she answers, crossing over to the bed with a fluffy looking navy towel in her arms. She scratches Purrlock’s back with her finger. “I had to take him with me.” Gretchen’s sure she’s imagining the pink hue in Janis’ otherwise pale cheeks as the other girl hands her the towel. “Here, dry yourself off.” Gretchen takes it gratefully and runs it over her hair first before drying off her neck and rolling up her sleeves to get at her arms. Janis cocks her head as she watches her, concern flickering in her brown eyes. “Although… maybe, here you can borrow some of my clothes.”

“Oh, no it’s fine,” Gretchen argues, even though Janis is already up and at her wardrobe, one hand on her hip. “I mean these are comfortable enough.” It’s an outright lie; the skirt is sticking to her legs and coming away red and her top is clinging to her stomach like a limpet, but she’s already in Janis’ house and using her towel. There’s a line. She stands up, stumbling and falling slightly on her shaky legs, weakened by the cold and rain. She probably just proved Janis’ point to her. “That’s really nice of you Janis, but I can’t take your clothes too.”

“Sure you can.” She struts back over to the end, handing her a small dark bundle of clothes. “You’re about my size anyway. I’ll give you some privacy to change.” Gretchen can barely get another feeble protest out before Janis flounces out, clicking the door shut behind her. She’s left alone in the room, shivering in her soaked clothes, holding Janis’ ones in her hands. They’re certainly a lot drier. And warmer, heat seeping into her frozen hands. And it would be rude not to wear them now.

With a sigh, she peels her jacket off and flips her top over her head, gasping lightly as the cold air hits her damp skin. She hastily dries herself with the towel before pulling on the t-shirt Janis lent her and then pulling the grey plaid shirt on over it. The skirt is thankfully easier to get off and the gets the jeans on with a surprising amount of ease. They’re skinny, but not at all like the skin tight ones she’s grown used to wearing; they hug her legs and chase away the cold. The t shirt is soft and thick against her skin and the plaid shirt might as well be a blanket around her shoulders, the fabric impossibly soft and the sleeves falling just past her hands. As she folds up her own clothes, she bites back a laugh-and a blush-as she sees what’s on the bed; Janis left her a pair of impossibly fluffy white socks. She puts them on, immediately warming her blue toes.

She sits back down on the bed, feeling awkward and agitated as she hears Janis and her dad moving around downstairs. She looks around the room for a distraction; drawn to the canvases that hang on the walls. She guesses they’re Janis’ work, the brushstrokes strikingly similar to the ones she’s seen in the art rooms on the rare occasion she’s been in there. They’re all a bit well… not traditional; a picture of a pale girl purple hair and red eyes and pointed fangs, one of a fairy with crimson wings trapped in a jar, one of a mermaid with a shark’s tail. There’s less fantastical ones too; she spots one of Janis, Damian and Cady, all caught up in a moment and laughing with bright eyes. She forces the flicker of envy inside her to die down, not really being able to remember the last time she and Karen and Regina laughed together without Gretchen then feeling guilty for it.

She taps her toes against the purple carpet as she waits for Janis, growing more anxious by the minute. Maybe she’s meant to go downstairs and tell her she’s ready? Maybe she’s meant to text her? She takes her phone out of her bag and holds it in her lap her thumb hovering over it. The tapping of her toes gets faster.

“Gretch?” She jumps as Janis’ loud voice calls from the other side of her door. “You decent?”

“Y-yeah,” she says, jumping off the bed and running to the door to open it. Janis beats her to the punch and swings it open, a plate with two cookies in her hand and a smile on her face.

“You look good,” she says, crossing over to the bed and sitting down. “Here, I got you a cookie.”

“Oh, thanks.” It’s soft and gooey in her mouth, warm chocolate spreading over her teeth and tongue.

“Also I was talking to my dad downstairs,” Janis goes on, turning to face Gretchen and tucking one leg underneath her. “He said that a lot of the roads have been closed because of the rain. Lot of flooding and shit. So I thought… Maybe you could just hang here for a while until the roads clear up? We can study together. You can have dinner here if you need to. My dad always goes overboard with the cooking. He loves having company.”

She wants to say no. But she also knows that if she does, Janis will press her until she agrees. Anyway, it’s not like she can say no. The rain pounds against the window, the wind scrapes loudly against the glass and a clap of thunder makes Gretchen squeak.

“Okay,” she agrees. “Thanks. So much.”

“I’m just letting you study here, Gretch,” Janis tells her. “It’s nothing.”

“You also lent me these,” she reminds her, gesturing to the clothes. “They’re great by the way. I really love them. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Janis says fondly. She gestures her hand at the shirt. “You know, sometimes the stereotypes are true.”

“Stereotypes… Oh, you mean the lesbian one.” Not for the first time, Gretchen kicks herself, especially when Janis’ smile falters a little. Those two words that Regina keyed into Janis’ locker those years ago are still fresh in her mind, and no doubt in Janis’.

“Yeah, the lesbian stereotype,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “Not all of them are true though. I don’t know jack shit about DIY.”

Gretchen doesn’t entirely get what Janis means, but she smiles and nods anyway. She sends a quick text to her mom before picking up her bag and taking out her notes, picking up where she left off in the library. She looks through her annotated copy of Hamlet, trying to do what her mum suggested and make mind maps of the important stuff.

“Ugh, English is killing me this year,” Janis says, nodding to her book.

“Yeah, but you’re really good at it,” Gretchen reminds her. “Remember you wrote all those stories in middle school?”

“Yeah writing’s the easy part. Not so much all that reading. Doesn’t help that Mr McKenna is an ableist bastard.” There’s something so compelling in the ferocity of her voice, the way she so casually slips out a swear word the way anyone else would casually call someone a friend. “He’s not very dyslexia friendly.”

“I know. Or just friendly in general.” She does remember a rather intense panic in sophomore year following one of his classes. “Ms Boyle’s an angel though.”

“Don’t I know it. She lets us use her classroom for the LGBT+ society meetings.”

“Oh, I heard about that. I mean I always mean to go, but I’ve been so busy.”

“You should come on down,” Janis tells her, propping her plastic-covered canvases against the wall. “Next week me and Aaron are doing an ace introduction workshop. For the little baby aces. Or just anyone who wants to know about it.”

“I’ll try to make it.” Gretchen wonders if she’s imagining the elephant in the room. Janis doesn’t seem to notice, humming something only she knows as she takes a ratty looking notebook out of her beg and starts flipping through it, clicking a pen absent mindedly. If she went to the LGBT+ society then that would make her…

She doesn’t know. Well, she kind of knows. She knows girls are pretty and she wouldn’t mind kissing them and that boys are… less so. No one else knows, except maybe Janis now. She studies her more than she studies her Shakespeare, taking in her furrowed brow as she tries to make sense of her maths notes. She can’t think why she told Janis. Maybe it’s because she’s never push her. Or maybe part of her holds on to middle school where Janis was trusted with Gretchen’s deepest secrets.

“Maybe I’ll just get Caddy to help me,” she sighs. “She gets all this stuff. She loves it. Sometimes I think she’s more into math than she is Aaron.”

“I mean, she grew up doing math,” Gretchen offers. “And her parents are… math people? Don’t zoologists do math?”

“I think so,” Janis says, wrinkling her nose. “Imagine if we all took after our parents. Bleh.”

“You don’t want to be like your parents?”

“Aw, not like that,” she says, leaning back on her arm. “I mean, I love them. But my dad does human resources and my mom’s a museum curator. None of that says me, you know. If I end up in a museum, I want it to my work that ends up there.”

“It will! You’re so great at art.” A little pink blush glows on Janis’ face.

“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been looking at art colleges and stuff. Somewhere cool. Big city. Like New York or something.” She takes another notebook out of her bag and pulls a face, showing it to Gretchen. It has “GEOGRAPHY” written in block letters and red pen on a label, but what draws Gretchen’s eye is the phrase “The Lesbian Agenda” printed across the front for all to see. “But I still have to pass this shit too.”

Janis turns on the music on her phone, letting Gretchen scroll through her library and pick a playlist, and they study with Sara Bareilles in the background. As each song plays, Gretchen feels the tension in her stomach lighten more and more, to the point where she is sitting up against Janis’ wall with her legs crossed, giggling at the faces Janis pulls at her calculus notes, which Cady is attempting to explain through text messages.

“So I never asked,” Janis begins. “What are you thinking of doing? In college I mean.”

“Um…” Gretchen taps the top of her pen with her fingertip. “I mean… I’ve kind of started looking at social work.”

“No way, that’s awesome!” she replies. “My aunt’s a social worker, and she’s a complete badass.”

“Yeah, my cousin is too. It just looks great, you know. Getting to help all those little kids.” There’s so much more on the tip of her tongue, begging to be said, but she holds it all back, the image of Regina rolling her eyes at her sharp in her mind.

“That’s what my aunt says,” Janis agrees. “So do you know where you want to go?”

“Not too far,” she says. “Maybe just stay in Chicago.” Janis hums, her wrist moving quickly as she doodles in her notebook. “But I won’t go anywhere if I don’t get my grades up. My dad will kill me if I get another C in English.” She pulls Hamlet back into her lap and frowns at it. Janis scoots closer to her on the bed, rolling onto her stomach.

“Hey, maybe we can study together,” she suggests. “Help each other out.”

“Okay,” Gretchen agrees. “But I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“Oh you’ll be fine,” she says, sitting opposite her and crossing her long legs. “Fetch, even.” She opens up her own copy of Hamlet, her scribbles sprawling out all over the pages, each one in a different coloured pen. She leans over and lifts her backpack onto the bed, pulling out her English notebook. It has pink and white stripes on the front, and it embarrassingly takes Gretchen a moment to realise it’s the lesbian pride flag. Janis wears who she is wherever she can; on her stationery, her clothes, her bag. It’s beautiful, how fearless she is. She remembers after those months when she didn’t come back to school, when she marched back in September with Doc Martens and heavy make-up. From then on she was loud and unapologetic, her middle finger her new best friend. People compare Regina to a lion; the queen of the jungle that is their school, but Gretchen secretly thinks that if anyone is a lion, it’s Janis. Fearless and proud, a stunning beauty you’d never want to cross.

She takes her notecards out of her folder.

They work through each act of Hamlet, Gretchen showing Janis her mind map for act one and Janis being so impressed with it she decides to have a go at doing one herself, the artist in her loving it and even drawing a little picture next to each sub-heading. Gretchen walks her through it, a thrill running through her as she keeps talking and Janis just nods, filling it in as she tells her. In return, Janis helps her with the character biographies, making her laugh by referring to Hamlet as a “tricky bitch” and then promptly Tip-Ex-ing it out. They’re interrupted by Janis’ dad, who comes up with two plates of vegetable omelettes with sweet potato, asparagus and a bread roll on the side.

“Thank you so much,” Gretchen says as she takes the plate from him. He also hands two cans of Diet Coke to Janis and she sets them between them.

“You’re welcome, Gretchen. Long time, no see. Isn’t that the expression.”

“Yeah,” she says, discomfort slithering around her. “Been busy.”

“Of course. Happy studying.” Janis nods, a piece of asparagus hanging out of her mouth.

“Got to love how he still acts like he can’t speak English,” she chuckles fondly. “He speaks better English than me.”

“Still, do you always get dinners like this?” she asks, thinking about her and her mom eating oven cooked chicken and fries or microwaved rice.

“Yeah,” she says. “He works part time, and he really likes cooking. Guess it’s the French in him.”

“What part of France is he from?”

“The south. Brittany. Here…” She leans over and lifts a framed photo off the bedside table, turning it around so Gretchen can see it. It’s Janis, her hair much shorter and more blonde, with her natural black just beginning to creep into it, sitting next to a red-haired girl around the same age on a grassy hill, a sparkling blue ocean behind them. “Sun all day, ocean everywhere.”

“It looks beautiful,” Gretchen says. The Janis in the photo is laughing, carefree as the breeze that blows her short hair away from her face. “I remember when you got that haircut. It looked amazing.” Of course, she’s talking about when Janis walked back into North Shore, making her grand return with shoulder length half-blonde, half-black hair and her chin up.

“I did it myself,” she confesses, her tone uncharacteristically shy. She rakes a hand through her longer hair. “It was just time for a change, I guess.”

There’s a lot Gretchen wants to say. She wants to say that she’s sorry for her part in it, that she never stood up and stopped Regina herself. She wants to say that she thinks Janis is amazing and that she wishes every day that she could be more like her. She wants to say that she’s worth ten of Regina.

“This food’s really good,” is what she says instead.

They start on Act Three after they finish eating. Janis’ phone pings as they work and she texts back quickly, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Damian,” she explains. “Just asking about my suggestions for a movie night for the LGBT+ thing.”

“What did you suggest?”

“I wanted Jennifer’s Body,” she explains. “But Damian thinks it’s too gory for freshmen. So I’m suggesting Pride.” She grins as her phone pings again. “And Cady’s on my side.”

“Pride… that’s the one about the coal miners in England, right?” She vaguely remembers seeing the title on Netflix. And remembers suddenly looking away and feigning disinterest when her mom looked at it.

“Well, Wales technically, but yeah,” she says. “It’s so good though. My mom said she’s trying to put up an exhibit in her museum about that part of history. But there’s pushback, as per usual.” She takes another drink of Coke and taps her pen against her notebook. “We were meant to have agreed on the movie last week, but… shit happened. We’re not good at this.”

“I think you are,” Gretchen assures her. Janis looks up, her mouth falling open just slightly. “I mean, you said you and Aaron are doing that workshop thing. And I see all the posters for the stuff you do around school. All the fundraisers and things like that. It looks like you guys are handling it really well.”

“We’re like swans,” she explains with a grin. “We look beautiful and graceful, but in reality, we’re paddling for our lives. It’s me, Cady, Damian and Aaron, but we’re going to start recruiting juniors pretty soon so they can keep it running when we graduate. And then they’ll recruit juniors to run it after they graduate and then they’ll recruit juniors and it will go on and one and on until the sun burns out of the sky.”

The sun doesn’t show any sign of burning out of the sky right now, the rain continuing its attack on Janis’ window and the sky a dark shade of grey. Janis follows her gaze, pulling a face at the scene outside.

“Nice weather for ducks,” she comments, shrugging when Gretchen looks at her with a confused frown. “It’s what my mom likes to say.”

“Oh.” She checks her phone and finds no messages from her own mom. Maybe she’s stranded herself; stuck in her office building thanks to the downpour. “Maybe I should start getting home-”

“The roads are still closed though,” Janis points out.

“I can walk the rest of the way,” she says, getting up. “Thank you so much for the clothes and the food and everything, I’ll get them back to you as soon as I-”

“Gretchen.” Janis gets up and closes the space between them, placing her hands on her shoulders. Gretchen wonders how someone’s touch can be firm and also soft. That actually encapsulates Janis perfectly. A combination of fierce and gentle that shouldn’t exist but does. “You can stay here as long as you need. Or as long as this storm keeps up for.”

“I appreciate that. So much.” The words tumble and fall out of her now with no control. “But I’ve already used your towels and eaten your food and I’m wearing your clothes, and I don’t want to bother you-”

“Gretch, I invited you,” she reminds her. She hesitates for a moment and then pushes her hair away from her face, her fingers trailing down her cheek and jawline. “You’re not bothering me. Or anyone.”

Her cheeks flame red and she opens her mouth, hunting for the right words to say. Even if she could, her chest and throat are too tight for her to even speak. All she can really do is smile and nod a little and let Janis lead her back to the bed.

“You know, studying’s pretty boring,” she sighs. “What do you say we take a break? Go see if there’s any cookies left, maybe watch a little Netflix?”

Gretchen allows herself to nod and smile. She lets Janis take her by the hand and lead her into the kitchen, stealing two more cookies before slipping back upstairs. The whole way down and up the stairs, their hands stayed intertwined, palm to palm. Janis made no move to separate them, so why would Gretchen?

“Come on.” Janis lifts her tablet and settles down on the bed, motioning for Gretchen to do the same. She sits down next to her, leaving just enough space so that she can still see the tablet screen if she cranes her neck. Janis looks at her sideways, her mouth turning into a slight frown. “Is it okay if I move a little closer? Just so you can see it better.”

“Um, sure.” Janis scoots a little closer. There’s just a hair’s breadth between their knees; Janis’ fishnet tights against the grey jeans she borrowed from her. Gretchen’s heart picks up and that shouldn’t be new to her, but it’s not out of panic or fear. Something flutters in her stomach, something light and soft. When Janis is this close to her, the feeling radiates throughout her whole body, tugging the corners of her mouth into a smile and making her melt onto Janis’ bed.

“So what do you want to watch?” Janis asks.

“I don’t mind, you pick.”

“Aw, come on, Gretchen, don’t do that to me. There’s got to be something you like.” She taps out her password and opens up the tablet, revealing a sketch on a familiar character; the long red hair and green tail were a favourite of a young Gretchen.

“Ariel!” she squeaks. Immediately her face flushes, especially in front of the “too cool for school” Janis. She clears her throat. “So… did you draw this?”

“Yeah, this is my art page,” she explains. “I do Disney stuff sometimes. This one’s going on my Redbubble.”

“Redbubble?”

“It’s an online store, basically,” she explains. “Once I print this out I’ll make stickers, I’ll put it on laptop skins and notebooks. One is going to be a present for my little cousin, but the rest I charge for.”

“Cool,” she replies. “That’s really cool.”

“Hey, since you’re an Ariel fan, how about we watch some of The Little Mermaid?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Of course I do. Ariel was little Janis’ crush.” She opens up Netflix. “Yeah, one day it just all fell into place and I realised why I watched this movie so many times as a kid.”

Must be nice, Gretchen thinks. To have it all worked out. Whereas for her, the more she’s around Janis, the more confused about herself and her feelings and Janis herself she gets.

Together they watch the brightly coloured underwater adventure unfold before them, and it’s nice. It’s more than nice, really. Gretchen stopped watching Disney movies when she hit high school, hiding her DVDs in the back of her closet. Even her stuffed Flounder was hidden away under piles of coats, skirts and jeans after Regina had raised an eyebrow at him. She wishes she had him now. Maybe Janis would find him cute. Her own stuffed animal, Purrlock, lies across her lap, her finger running down his fuzzy back.

Gretchen’s hand slips from her hand as Prince Eric’s ship begins to go underwater. She doesn’t think much of it until she realises her fingers haven’t landed on the fabric of Janis’ bed, but on her warm fingers and cool metal rings. Her heartbeat pounds loudly in her ears. She should pull her hand away, but instead she just freezes and lets Janis wrap her fingers around her hand.

When Janis turns and smiles at her, she manages a smile back, and hopes she doesn’t look as freaked out as she feels.

She tries to do what her mom tells her to do when she’s feeling like this; break it all down to its bare essentials, try to work out why she’s feeling like this and what she can do to stop it. Take it apart and lay it out in front of her, count and total everything up until she finds the part of her that doesn’t work like it should.

She’s watching The Little Mermaid.

She’s in Janis’ room.

She’s wearing Janis’ clothes. Because hers got soaked by the rain which hasn’t shown any sign of changing; the frantic storm outside matching the one inside her head.

Janis’ dad made them dinner.

Janis invited her here. And she had said yes.

There it is, she realises. There’s the faulty bit. She’s sitting right next to her, long legs and dual-coloured hair and purple lipstick. She’s spent all afternoon with her and doesn’t really know why. But there’s more. Maybe there’s a reason she tends to avoid Janis; something to do with a racing pulse in the art room and sweaty palms as they stand outside the movie theatre waiting for Cady.

How long had she known? How long had she ignored it, denied it, pretended it doesn’t exist?

It’s only when Janis turns and looks at her that Gretchen realises she’s been staring at her. And biting her lip too, a habit she’d gotten so close to kicking. It makes her teeth look gross.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Warm brown eyes dusted with navy eyeshadow.

“I…” she begins. “I don’t know.”

“What is it?” She pauses the movie and pushes the tablet away, turning her body to face her. “Gretchen are you okay? If you want we can chance it and I can drive you home. Or maybe you can call your mom?”

“No.” The bed suddenly feels too small, Janis’s body so close to her making her claustrophobic. She jumps off the bed and runs over to the window, her reflection half-visible in the misty window. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She hears Janis come up behind her. “Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

No, she thinks.

“Why did you invite me here?”

“Because of that.” Out of the corner of her eye, she fees Janis pointing out the window. “Because I couldn’t let you walk home in that.”

“Why?” she asks again. Her fingers dig into the fabric of the shirt. It feels like Janis; unique and daring, but soft around her.

“Because you’d have gotten pneumonia if you stayed out there,” she explains, but it’s half hearted and her voice shakes. When Gretchen turns around, she sees Janis driving her fist into her palm and taking in a deep breath. She stays quiet as she watches the cogs move in Janis’ head. Somehow the girl who towers over everyone else, both with her impressive height and her fierce personality, shrinks down, her walls stripped away, the fire extinguished until it’s steaming embers. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Janis sticks her hands in her back pockets, her eyes glued to the window. Her jaw is clenched so tightly it might never open. And the more sick Gretchen feels, the more she regrets ever getting off that bed, she hopes it doesn’t. “Maybe… maybe I like you.”

“Like me?” she echoes softly. The words hang between them, written in the steam on the window. Janis gives a tiny nod, her shoulders hunched over. Gretchen’s knees nearly give out when she realises when she’s seen that look on her before; in middle school, the day their friendship was knocked down.

“I mean, it’s not that I just invited you because I like you,” she explains quickly, her voice just that much too loud. “I’d have done it for anyone. Well, not anyone. But any of my friends. Like I’d do it for Cady. Or Karen. But I don’t like them. Well, I do, but not-not the way I like you.” She scrunches up her face, letting out a groan and running a hand over her face. “I’m sorry, Gretch, I shouldn’t have-”

“Why?” Every part of her is shaking; her hands, her voice, her heart. She feels like a clockwork toy that’s been wound up too tightly and is overworked to the point of breaking.

“Why?” Janis asks. Her own cheeks turn red. “Well, because you make me laugh. And you’re thoughtful. You look out for people. You want other people to be happy.” She shrugs, her eyes wide and honest and clear. “Why wouldn’t I?”

A lot of reasons.

Gretchen swallows the lump in her throat, daring to glance up just long enough to look at Janis. She’s not sure what she expected; some movies have tear stained faces, others have nothing except for raised eyebrows and a nonchalant shrug. Janis on the other hand is squirming awkwardly from foot to foot, wringing and stretching her hands, wearing an apologetic and fearful look that Gretchen knows so well she may as well be looking in a mirror.

“Gretchen, I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to tell you-then I was. Damian said it’s better to tell you, but I didn’t plan for it like this.” She waves her hand, gesturing to the space between them. “Believe me, I’d have invited you here even if I didn’t like you… that way.”

“Janis.” Gretchen’s brain seems to turn on autopilot, because she closes the distance between them almost completely, tilting her chin up to look at her. She does have the bizarre idea to jump out the window, run and never speak to Janis for the rest of the year. Her feet stay firmly on the floor though. “It’s okay.”

“It is?”

“Yeah.” She pulls the sleeves of her shirt down over her hands. Janis’ shirt. “It’s fine. I’m not-I wouldn’t think of you like that.” She wants to look down and avoid Janis’ eyes, but she can’t. Janis reaches out, her finger brushing against Gretchen’s wrist, and her heartbeat spikes. Words flee her brain. “It’s okay. I-”

I like you too. Four words she couldn’t get out if she tried.

“Gretchen.” Janis’ hand stays against her wrist. The other girl bites her lip hard. Another habit she seems to share with Gretchen. “Tell me-tell me if I’m wrong.” She hesitates and takes a daring move closer. Daring-that’s Janis through and through. For one minute, the phrase her Janis crosses her mind. Janis’ eyes flit down to her lips. “Gretchen-tell me if I’m wrong.”

“You’re not,” she whispers. “You’re not wrong.”

Janis’ lips are warm. Warm enough to chase away the chill in the air brought by the storm outside. They’re soft too; Gretchen has no problem melting into her. Her arms come up around Gretchen’s shoulders, one hand tangling in her hair. She thinks that Janis must have experience in this; she knows exactly what to do and when to do it, knows how to leave her just slightly breathless. It’s not exactly Gretchen’s first kiss, but it’s the first one that matters.

Janis is grinning when she pulls away, laughing that full, bright laugh of hers and slipping her hand into Gretchen’s back pocket. Gretchen’s first instinct is to say ‘thank you’ but she beats it down quickly.

“Wow,” she breathes. She leans a little forward so that her forehead rests against Janis’. “That was… really good.”

“Thanks,” Janis replies, her cheeks pink. They dissolve into quiet giggles. The rain patters against the window, just as harshly as before, and Gretchen burrows into Janis. The other girl takes her hands out of Gretchen’s pockets and takes her hands with a heavy sigh. “Look Gretch, I don’t know how long you’ve known or how comfortable you are or how slow you want to take it. But I’ll be here. Every step of the way.”

Every step of the way. That makes her smile more than the kiss did. Well, almost more.

“Can I keep your shirt?” she asks. Janis snorts a laugh.

“Yeah. You can keep it. It’ll give me an excuse to see you again.”

“Have you ever needed an excuse for anything though?”

When Janis’ lips touch hers again, Gretchen takes her phone out of her pocket and throws it at what she hopes is the bed. The wind howls and scrapes at the window, the rain beating down harshly against the walls, and even a clap of thunder rolls through the sky. But Gretchen doesn’t mind. As long as Janis keeps kissing her like this, it can rain for as long as God wants.

[gasters-story]

Fallen's Chapter 2

Word Count: 1,805

Chara got along well with the two skeleton brothers. They almost became like siblings with how close they got. After a few days l, it was normal to see them around the lab. Fallen got use to them exploring or watching after the boys after a few weeks. He was able to finish his security system because of it too, yet he's left it off for a few reasons. One was so he didn't get in trouble with Asgore. He did, however, leave the alert on for when someone enters or exits on. He'd get it on a small pocket device so only he'd notice for now, and not who happens to be entering or exiting.

Fallen was nervous the first time it went off. He expected Asgore to be the one who walked in, but to his surprise it was Asriel instead. Either way, Fallen had to at least have Chara hide away from the prince. If Asriel is anything related to Asgore in personality, Chara probably wouldn't be safe if found. Fallen made sure to remind them of that, even if the scientist had partly raised Asriel.

Fallen watched over the kids while he reread a book nearby. He had warned them not to say anything about Chara for the human child's safety, but he wanted to make sure. He wasn't suspecting any of the brothers for being bad, he just expected their mistakes, especially when they're having fun. Luckily, they managed to not spill the beans. Only problem was Fallen's worry about Asriel coming in without him realizing it, since Asriel is now becoming more independent acting as he got older and didn't announce his presence like his father. Mischief waiting to happen. 

Worst part is Asriel actually did once decided to roam the labs without permission. Fallen never noticed since he was taking a nap during the time Asriel entered. He expected his kids to be responsible enough, by apparently that wasn't the case. Instead, Fallen found the four of them, Chara, Sans, Papyrus, and Asriel, all talking happily in the main common room of the lab. Fallen thought he was still asleep at first, but once he realized he wasn't, he decided he'd ask later how it managed to work out. He just watched from afar for now.

They talked casually like old friends. The first one to notice Fallen was there was Papyrus, being as observant as usual. He ran up to the scientist for a hug, bouncing into his arms.

"How are you all?" Fallen asks and gives a small smile to play off his worries. Chara gave a skeptical look at first but just played along.

"We're doing great!" Papyrus exclaims happily. Fallen picks up the small skeleton, allowing for Papyrus to pay the other's head gently. Fallen smiled more, this time more genuine, and hugged Papyrus as best as he could while he's holding the small child.

"That's good then." Fallen says and takes a moment to glance at Asriel. He didn't seem to act like he entered at a bad time.

"How did you rest, Dad?" Sans asks. He seemed to see more problems with the way his smile seemed more on the nervous side. 

"Well enough so far. We'll see as the day continues." Fallen put down Papyrus and looked at Asriel as the kid spoke up. 

"Can we go play together now? Sans and Papyrus said they weren't sure if I could." He explains. That fits a few pieces together.

"Well, you're already here. Might as well let you." Fallen couldn't just turn him away now. At least they all got along. 

Fallen supervised while reading one of his old, favorite books, just as he had always done. He was more attentive to the kids though. Whatever happened while he slept, it was settled now but Fallen wasn't sure how settled it really was. 

Of course there was the point where Asriel had to go home. As skeptical and cautious as Fallen was, he confronted Asriel before he fully left the labs.

"What do you think of Chara, the human?" Asriel jumped a bit in surprise and turned to face the skeleton. This was kind of new from Fallen, so the prince took a moment to respond.

"They're nice. And friendly. What about them?" His facial expression showed his unease, from shifting eyes to his attempt to smile.

"Because after taking care of them for as long as I have, their safety is important to me. If you really do want to hang out with them more, you must not say a word about them to your father. That risk must not be taken." Fallen's height and stare made for an intimidating figure to Asriel. While he understood every word clear, he wasn't sure how to respond. It was clear he knew his father's faults when it came to humans, to put it lightly.

"I-I understand, sir…" Asriel mumbles. He had never before referred to Fallen like that, only his dad when he got into some kind of trouble. Fallen sighed, letting his intimidating figure go, and gave Asriel a pat on the head. He couldn't help but feel guilty for scaring the other.

"I apologize, but I'm sure you understand why." The scientist starts. "Just know I'll be proud if you can keep this a secret and you can continue to hang out at the labs with us anytime." 

Asriel softened his stance a bit and gave a sheepish smile. "Alright." He was still quiet when he spoke but it was at least a bit louder than before. He was probably just still shaken up from the moment before.

Fallen let Asriel leave, leaving him alone with his anxiety to haunt his mind. There wasn't much the scientist could do besides reread a book and hope his trust in Asriel doesn't cost him.

Fallen assumed that since the royal family hadn't stopped by at all, especially Asgore and Asriel, that so far they were in the clear. If they weren't, Asgore would be storming in here, that's for sure. As long as that didn't happen, they were safe for the time.

Asriel would visit the day after, almost making a system of every other day, but it wasn't exactly routined or in a system. He was like that cousin that occasionally came over with little warning which is pretty much what the skeleton brothers at least saw him as nowadays. 

After a few months, Asriel didn't come over as joyous as he usually did. He was quiet, never answering anyone's concerned questions. Fallen offered him things to eat and drink, yet Asriel rarely took any of it. He was there physically, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

Asriel stayed the night for the first time, making Fallen wonder if something happened at the castle. Was he even allowed to be here? He was sure he'd know soon enough, but he decided that sleeping wouldn't be easy. Asriel seemed to silently agree.

Fallen checked on Asriel when he couldn't sleep yet the other kids were. The prince laid in bed with his eyes open, like he gave up long before. The scientist tried to talk to the young goat monster.

"May I know what's wrong?" Fallen asks.

"She's… She's gone…" Asriel mumbles with little change in his expression.

"Who is?" While Fallen didn't know much of Asriel's life outside of the labs, his soul ached at the possibilities it came up with.

"Mom left and I don't know where she went…" Asriel buried his face in his paws as he let out a whimper. "They got on another fight because they don't know what to do and she just… left this time… and now Dad won't leave his room…" 

Fallen gently rubbed Asriel's back to comfort him as best as he could. He thought that the couple had things settled and decided on what they would do, but then again, hey hadn't seen a human in years. Things must've changed because of that. Now Toriel just cut herself out of the scenario completely, which made it worse for Asgore. He was already struggling heavily in the emotional bonds he holds for his people as their king. Now his family split because of it.

It was a lot Fallen didn't want to entirely get involved in. He didn't just want to leave Asriel like this, though. "Asgore must be taking it hard as well. Do you think you can help him? It might help you move on as well." He accidentally made it sound like she passed away. While Toriel may not be, Queen Toriel in a sense was.

"It'll be weird without mom there." Asriel mumbles as he slowly pulled his paws from his face.

"I know, but unless she plans to come back, there is not much you can do. Try what you can." Fallen's advice wasn't as good as he wished, plus it's the best he had.

Asriel seemed to understand, bhut he stayed silent. After a moment, fallen decided to leave it at that. "Get some rest." He says as he gets up. "I'll try to do the same." He gave the best smile he could muster before he left the room.

Asriel was gone by the time he woke up. Fallen wouldn't know the situation until Asriel decided to come back to the labs. Fallen wasn't planning to go find out himself anyways. Who knows how that would turn out.

The labs became a bit more solemn while Asriel was gone. He wouldn't come back for a while either. Fallen worried a bit, so he did take the trouble to look for Asriel to make sure he was alright. Fallen didn't bother him though. He just wanted to be reassured in his safety. The anxiety was killing him.

Papyrus would ask where Asriel was after a few days. Fallen would just say he's been busy instead of giving the real story. Chara knew this but they decided not to call him out on it. There wasn't a need to, even if they could also tell Fallen didn't like doing such a thing.

Everyone just hoped everything would pass.

When Asriel finally came back, he wore the best smile he could and tried to hang out like old times. While it wasn't exactly like before, it was better than nothing. Sometimes Asriel even stayed long enough to have sleepovers, perhaps to make up for all the time he was gone.

Fallen was at least glad Asriel was feeling fine enough to manage a fake front compared to before. He should get better with time, especially in a place not as affected by Toriel's absence.

Yet, somehow that's not how it went. Within just a couple of weeks, the Underground would change drastically from the prince's next choices.

Reborn Arc End

First | Previous | Next

[werewolfdays]

Angst prompts ❄️ 🔹 and ☄️ for Jayde and Nadya please!! And maybe nonverbal prompts [taste] or [sing] to lighten up after all the angst 😅

Ok for the angst questions first:

❄️ What is (one of) their biggest regrets or biggest mistake they’ve made? Is there anything they can do to fix this or is it so far gone there’s no point anymore? Is this something they dwell on a lot?

this is an easy one for Jayde. She feels at least partly responsible for the death of her father. When the hunters caught her and her parents, she provoked one until he started choking her which prompted her dad to get really defensive and attack the hunter. Chaos ensued with the rest of the hunters panicking and thinking he was going to turn so they shot and killed him. Most of the guilt Jayde carries is for that specific event because he didn’t need to die. In fact, the hunter he attacked was pissed because killing one of them made the group of hunters lose out on a bigger payday. 

For Nadya I’d say her biggest regret is not fighting harder to save Jayde when she thought she was killed. Nadya got to Jayde when she was bleeding out in the middle of a street, but was so consumed with panic that she just didn’t know what to do and there wasn’t time. Toby had to drag her away since a group of soldiers were almost on top of them and all Nadya managed to do was kick and scream (she even gave Toby a black eye). Then Jayde came back like 6 months later when she thought she had been dead the whole time so that just made her guilt worse because that meant that Jayde only suffered far more. But it’s okay now cause Jayde helped her forgive herself. 

🔹 Has your OC ever had to leave something behind or abandon something they didn’t want to? Have they ever had this happen to them? How has it effected them over the years?

Nadya basically had to leave her whole life when she went on the run with Jayde. Her school, her job, her apartment, all of it. She put a lot of work into getting where she got, so it really wasn’t easy for her to do even with her life at risk. There was a period of time where she thought that it was all for nothing, but Nadya is a very determined person and she obviously found her own way to work towards her goals. 

right after Jayde escaped captivity for the first time and was on her own, she wound up staying with a mechanic and working at his shop as his apprentice. It started out as just a means of survival, but she ended up really liking it and it had the potential to be a new life for her. Unfortunately, hunters caught her trail and she had to run for her life again when her mentor was killed trying to cover for her. She has a lot of guilt for that too and rarely ever talks about it, but she still has the motorcycle that was given to her to help her escape and she uses the knowledge she gained to maintain it and also other cars 

☄️ Does your OC struggle with their emotions and trauma? Do they find it easier to open up to strangers or those close to them if at all? Do they tend to hide their pain from everyone? 

They both obviously have a lot of trauma that they still struggle with, but they do it a bit differently. On the outside it might seem like Nadya doesn’t struggle with it nearly as much as Jayde does, and she might even think that too, but the truth is she’s buried it incredibly deep and opts to pretend like it doesn’t exist, rarely ever acknowledging it. That’s where a lot of her anxiety stems from because that can leave her with a feeling of dread pretty often, and she deals with that by keeping busy. sometimes to a fault. 

Jayde’s struggles on the other hand are way more obvious. She suffers panic attacks and nightmares and flashbacks, etc. Her PTSD is something that she has to deal with on a daily basis and has tried to suffer in silence for a long time, but she’s slowly finding out that talking about her trauma with people she loves and trusts has been helping the healing process along. 

now for the fluff to make up for the angsty feels:

[ sing ] for your muse to sing to mine

(x)

“Hey,” Jayde’s voice said, pulling me out of the world I was immersed in while reading my book. 

I looked up to see her standing in front of where I was sitting on the bench, the gentle breeze blew some strands of blonde in her face so she ran a hand through her hair to brush it back, giving her the usual attractively unkempt style that she could pull off so easily. The sight of it still made me blush every single time. 

“Hi, Jay.” I greeted with a smile.

She sat next to me, causing the bench to shift slightly from her weight, “What are you reading?”

“Oh, this,” I folded the page to mark my spot and closed the book, handing it over to her, “It’s a story about a heist.” 

Jayde raised an eyebrow at me while she inspected the cover, “You planning on robbing a bank?”

I gave her a mischievous smile, “Only if you join me.”

“That’s a given.” She replied with a crooked grin, then she returned the book to me, “I was actually looking for you.”

“Yeah?” 

She nodded, “If you’re not busy, I’d like to show you something.” 

“What do you want to show me?” I asked, getting up when she did. 

“Guess you’ll have to follow me to find out.” Jayde answered with her head tilted playfully. 

I shook my head while still sporting my smile and followed her to wherever she was leading me. We eventually found ourselves in the library and music room. I looked around at the space, but nothing had changed that I could see. Jayde walked straight towards her piano.

“You know, I’ve seen this room before, right?” I stated sarcastically, “I was one of the people that helped set it up.” 

Jayde glanced over at me and said, “Okay, I guess it’s more accurate to say there’s something I want you to hear.”

“You’ve been practicing.” I noted and settled myself beside her on the piano bench. 

“Mhm,” She confirmed with a hum and gave me a look that was both shy and excited, “I’ve been practicing something special. Only Skye knows I can do this. It was something we did with our dad.”

I gazed at her in awe, “And you want to share it with me?”

“Of course, Nadya.” She replied with a small laugh, “I want to share everything with you.” 

My cheeks grew hot and I bumped my shoulder against hers, “Go on then.”

Jayde straightened her spine and moved her hands to hover over the keys, “This was a song my dad used to sing to my mom. He played it on guitar, but I figured out how to do it on the piano.”

She started on the first notes, carrying a tune that sounded calm, but upbeat. I followed the movements of her fingers over the keys, getting lost in the sounds of the piano filling the room. Then, all of a sudden, Jayde opened her mouth and started to sing. My head snapped towards her in shock and I guess this was what she was talking about. I had no idea she could sing. More than that, she could sing very well. I listened to her harmonious voice pair beautifully with the music of the piano and I was unable to form a coherent thought as I became completely drawn in.

“You were hoping for so much more, but it’s not too late, no, it’s not too late. I can give you so much more, but it’s not too late, no, it’s not too late.” 

So many things ran through my mind, all wanting to escape and as questions or comments, but I simply remained quiet so I could watch her. I could see how much this song meant to her, hear it in her gentle voice as it carried the melody. 

“Like the ocean breeze, the passers by, the giant redwood and sugar pine. It shakes the branch and takes the leaves, I feel the burden of defeat.” 

There was a specific expression I noticed on her face as she played and sang. The small concentrated furrow in her brow that softened at specific verses. The way her lips were only parted just enough for the words to flow out of her mouth. How she started to sway with the beat, bumping into me lightly. 

“And I don’t know what I can offer, but I would offer it to you.” 

I closed my eyes to let the song consume me further, trying to picture Jayde’s father strumming a guitar and singing the same words to her mother. It was a picture that warmed my heart, so I could only imagine what it must make Jayde feel like. I could hear the love in every word she sang. Both for her parents and for me as well. A smile of contentment came across my lips after I released a relaxed sigh when Jayde repeated the chorus one last time.

“You were hoping for so much more, but it’s not too late, no, it’s not too late. I can give you so much more, but it’s not too late, no, it’s not too late.”

I opened my eyes and her fingers continued to slowly dance across the keys, giving the song a warm goodbye. After the final notes echoed through the room, everything grew quiet. 

“You have a beautiful voice.” I almost whispered since I was afraid to break the silence, “Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“It was hard enough for me to even start playing this again.” Jayde motioned at the piano, “I think singing was harder because I can barely remember what my dad’s voice sounds like anymore. The way he played is easier to remember because I can play the same songs he did, but his voice…” she shook her head and ran her finger over the length of a key, “I can't replicate that.” 

“I understand.” I said, reaching out to hold her hand in both of mine.

Her gaze drifted over to me and she gave me a warm smile, “I like playing the piano for you though. So I figured I should try to sing for you too.” 

I met her eyes, feeling so utterly grateful that she wanted to share these things with me, “I can’t tell you what that means to me, Jay.” 

“I can’t tell you what it means to have someone help me bring this back. I know my dad wouldn’t have wanted me to give this up like I did, but you helped me find it again and honor a part of who he was.” Jayde continued to stare at me meaningfully for a couple seconds before she cupped the back of my neck and pulled me into a passionate kiss. I fell into pace with her quickly after being taken off guard, getting lost in her kiss as easily as I got lost in her song. Then she pulled back enough to whisper, “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.” 

There weren’t words for how profoundly happy that made me. So I just pulled her in for another kiss to convey it wordlessly. Jayde returned it with an understanding, curling her fingers at the back of my neck, tangling them in my hair and pulling me closer. I involuntarily reached up to grab her shoulder for something to hang on to when she deepened the kiss. It was enough indulgence to be intoxicating as we were getting on the verge of being carried away. 

When we broke away from each other, my thumb came up to trace the lips that had just graced mine. “Does this mean you’ll be singing often now?”

Jayde looked momentarily too lost in me to give me an immediate answer. She shook her head slightly to shake herself out of it before answering, “Whenever you want me to.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[lilacflamesss]

V

Kirishima Week Day 8 (July 8th): Hikari & Arata

Summary: The five stages of Hikari’s life. (3.2k words)

A/N: That V is a 5 and not the organization. I just have to put it out there. Look who’s fucking late for Day 8 of @kirishima-week. I still have the submission for Yomo day as well. I’m sorry. What better time to finish of my Kirishima family fic collection than Kirishima Week itself!

This was suggested by an anon some time back, who asked me to write one fic for every member of the family. All the stories are not necessarily linked and can be read independently of each other. They don’t involve every single member of the family as well (eg. the siblings’ stories are about themselves rather than their parents). Read the others here: Touka | Ayato | Renji | Arata

It’s late and I’m sleepy so forgive my typos and grammar mistakes. Please do reblog if you enjoyed this fic!

Preview: 

She stands facing the Reaper as her family leaves behind her. Her ears ring from hearing Ayato calling out for her, clearly unhappy that it’s his father carrying him now and not his mother. She wants to turn back, but she doesn’t. Hikari knows that if she does, she’ll just lose all courage and strength; she’ll break down right there and then.

They’re further now, but she can hear Touka’s questions as well. She pictures the young girl grabbing her father hand, desperately trying to keep up with his pace while wondering aloud why her mother isn't following them.

Arata must be so scared and worried. He must be hating himself right now for having to leave her behind. But what can they do when there is other things to worry about? Their world doesn't revolve around them anymore. There’s more. They have to give themselves up, they have to give anything up, if it means that Touka and Ayato can live.

Please… she prays, but to whom she’s somewhat unsure, give them the good life they deserve.

The Reaper raises his scythe and Hikari’s heart races. She wonders if the rush she’s feeling right now is what her parents and older brother felt all those years ago. Protecting their family, they fought with their utmost strength— just like she’s on the verge of doing.

Ah. Ren��

She probably should have gone to visit him more recently. Living a peaceful life had made her too comfortable. She had begun to take a lot of things for granted. The last time she saw her brother was probably months, or even years, ago.

I’m sorry, Ren, but Sis has to do this.

She knows he’ll understand, but she knows the pain will still kill him.

Don’t hate Arata. He did nothing wrong. Don't hate the Touka and Ayato. They’re kids.

Don’t hate yourself. It’s not your fault you’re not here.

i.  Brother

"Sis...”

Hikari forces herself to smile, and turns to Renji. Renji shrinks into himself, hugging his legs close to his body as he buries his face into his knees.

“What do we do now?”

She remains silent, turning away to look at what’s before her. The place is bleak and gloomy. Rain pelts down hard against the miserable shelter they have above their heads. It sounds as if the zinc ceiling might fall apart anytime and Hikari wonders what she’ll do if that happens. She’ll be fine, but Renji’s much younger and so much frailer and weaker.

He needs to toughen up.

“Have you ever played in the rain before?” she asks. She looks at her brother and he looks back at her, face scrunched up in doubt and worry.

“No. It’s cold and it hurts when it hits me,” he complains.

“You’re wasting your life away,” Hikari scoffs. She gets up and reaches for his arm. Renji gives out a soft whine of protest but concedes to his sister’s tugging. Hikari shivers slightly as she feels the rain pelt down on her, soaking her clothes in icy water. Renji squeaks, jumping at the feeling and tightening his hold on her.

“Sis, this is— WAAAAH!” His words were cut off with a scream as Hikari pulls him forward and leaps into a puddle, splashing water all over themselves. She takes both of his hands and pulls him forward, spinning both of them in the puddle. His face is largely obstructed by his long silver hair, plastered on his face and curtaining his eyes. Yet, she sees the beginnings of a smile on his face and she pulls him again, running forward. Renji scampers to keep up with her.

“On the count of three, we jump!” Hikari says.

“H-huh? Wait… S-sis?”

“One…”

“Sis???”

“Two…”

“SIS WAIT—”

“Three!” she cries out, cutting into his words. Despite his protest, Renji leaps a long with her. The puddle before them splashes almost to dryness as they land, only to be filled once again with they falling droplets. Both are on the knees on the ground, practically a pile of mess.

“S-Sis… Our clothes…” Renji whines, tugging on one of the sleeves of his black hoodie.

“They’ll dry!” she laughs. Hikari reaches over to the side, before cupping her hands to scoop some water up. By the time Renji notices it, she had already flung her hands towards him, sending the water flying right at him. It splashes right on his fact, eliciting a surprised shriek and an annoyed whine.

“Sis!”

“I’m gonna dunk you in,” she sang playfully.

“Wah??”

“C’mere, you!”

She lunges at him but he manages to scramble away with a slight scream. Renji gets to his feet, before he starts jogging away and Hikari runs after him, shouting and screaming playful curses and threats. Renji continues to run, occasionally glancing back with victorious glances and giggles. Eventually, Hikari catches up to him, winding her arms around him and unintentionally pushing him to the ground. Renji squeals from the fall, laughing at they both lie by each other’s side.

They’re a mess, surrounded by a greater mess, but Hikari doubts she’s seen Renji smile this wide, especially not after they lost their family. His smile brings her more joy than their mini game had and she resolves to keep that smile on his face.

They only have each other, at least for that moment. He only has her and she’s the only one who can be there for him.  

I promise you.

ii. Husband

“Hikariiii!”

“What is it?” she cries out, walking towards the sound of Arata’s exasperated voice. She leaves the house and sees him crouching over by a couple of paint tins.

“Why are they purple?” he asked.

“Those are for the baby’s room!” Hikari explains.

“I wanted pink!” Arata cries out. “It’ll look pretty if our child’s a girl. We can design her room just like the room we saw in the catalogue.”

“Except, we don't know if it’s going to be a girl,” Hikari sighs. “Besides, pink isn't that nice a color.”

“BUT—”

“I like purple,” Hikari says. “Anyway, it’s a shade that’s a mix of pink and blue so isn't that nice?”

Hikari’s tone is tinged with bitterness at her husband’s idealistic perfection, but he seems to be honestly considering her words. Arata reaches over to an opened paint tin and looks in. He nibbles on his lips for a moment and scratches the back of his neck for another moment. After a period of silence, he sighs and stands up.

“Well, whatever you want,” he chuckles. “It’s time to paint!”

It’s just the two of them and setting up a house is a lot of work, especially with a pregnant woman in the midst. But even then, they take it one step at a time and despite other possible areas, the room they start with is none other than the baby’s room. Arata does move of the work, partly due to his insistence that too much manual labor might be detrimental to the baby and his wife, but it’s not like he’s the strongest of men either— in fact, it’s quite the contrary. Hikari eventually ends up helping with the walls as well, slowly dipping the rollers in paint and spreading them on white patches. Arata takes the top, standing on ladders and stretching his body in awkward angles, while Hikari takes the bottom. It takes them hours, practically the whole of the day, but when it’s done, husband and wife stand by the entrance to the room, exhauster, perspiring and with bodies stained in paint patches. Yet, looking at their accomplishment makes them swell with pride, even if it is mere empty purple walls.

“We’ll give her the best room ever,” Arata announces.

“Or him.”

“Or him,” Arata laughs.

They have no idea if their child is going to be born as a boy or girl. They have no idea if the child is even going to be born or if it’s going to live to see the room they’re working hard for. But as such is the life of a ghoul— they can never foresee everything. For all they know, the child might survive but they might not. But whatever it is, Hikari vows to live in the moment, for the moment. She doesn't know what the future holds but she can still enjoy what’s before her.

Hikari reaches to wind her arms around Arata’s shoulder and he leans forward to capture her lips in his. His hands cup her cheeks and he pushes forward, kissing her harder. She returns the force, lightly pushing him till he’s leaning against the door.

“I love you,” he murmurs against her lips, before pulling her in for another kiss. “I love you, now and forever.”

His words are cheesy and Hikari had never used to find such things enjoyable. They made her cringe and made her skin crawl as her face twists in disgust. Yet when it’s said in his voice— his gentle, soothing voice that makes any word sound like it’s being sung out in a lullaby— it makes her heart race and her stomach twist in a very different manner. It’s calming and enjoyable and despite all the troubles and worries she has plaguing her mind, Hikari can relax and drown in it.

She loves it. More than anything, she loves him.

“Now and forever,” she murmurs.

iii. Daughter

“Mom!”

“What is it?”

The younger girl looks up at her, cheeks puffed out and arms stretched out. Hikari sighs a little and reaches down to scoop her up into her arms. Touka grins at this, wrapping her small arms around her mother’s neck as she cheerfully kicks her legs. Hikari smiles at her, yet groans inwardly at how heavy Touka’s starting to get, especially with how difficult it is for Hikari to lift her up in her current weakened state.

“Weee! I’m so high up now!”

“You sure are,” Hikari laughs along.

“I’m gonna be super tall one day! Taller than you! And even Dad!” Touka announces. She reaches her hands upwards, grasping at air in kiddish amusement.

“Then, I’ll look forward to that day,” Hikari replies. “You can start doing all the work.”

“Huh?”

“Because Mom’s too short to reach high places, Touka can clean them instead!”

“I don’t wanna!” Touka cries out.

“You have to help Mom soon you know,” Hikari sighs. She places Touka back down, standing up straight to stretch her now-cramped back. Touka looks up at her, pouting with crossed arms.

“Whyyy?” she whines. “I don't wanna clean. I wanna play!”

Hikari laughs at Touka’s insistence. It’s nostalgic, watching her daughter live and grow. It’s strange for her to admit it herself, but Touka’s a carbon copy of her, so much so, Renji had once wondered if they were clones instead. Of course, having a daughter that looks and acts a lot like her isn't necessarily a good thing. It also means having to deal with her difficult moments and Hikari mentally salutes her own parents for dealing with her when she was a kid.

“Mom’s going to get really weak soon, you know,” Hikari explains, getting to her knees so that they are both levelled. Touka tilts her head in confusion and Hikari reaches over for Touka’s hand, before placing it on her tummy. Touka’s eyes widen instantly.

“Is it because you’re getting fat? Maybe you should exercise more!” Touka exclaims.

RUDE.

Hikari sighs, playfully patting Touka’s cheek— almost like a slap, but still not quite. “It’s because Mom’s pregnant, silly.”

“Preg… nant?”

“Yeah, Touka’s going to have a little sister or brother soon,” Hikari explains.

Touka’s eyes widen a little more, this time sparkling from the hearing revelation. A smile starts to spread on her face, her chubby cheeks dusting pink in an excited blush.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” Hikari mimics her excited tone and Touka bounces a little on her feet, squealing and giggling. She presses her other palm onto her mother’s stomach as well, marvelling at her new discovery.

“Is my sister in there?” Touka asks. “Is that why Mom’s getting fat?”

“I’m not getting fat, silly. I’ll go back to normal when your sibling is out,” Hikari explains, ruffling Touka’s hair a little. “Touka wants a sister, huh?”

“Yes! A girl! A girl!”

“But Mom wants a boy. I want a little chubby baby boy who’s sweet and gentle just like Dad,” Hikari playfully sighs. “Now, what do we do?”

“If that's what Mom wants, Touka wants it as well!” Touka cries out, clasping her hands together. “I want a little brother who’s just like Dad!”

Hikari grins, scooping Touka up in her arms as she gets up again. Her back screams in protest, but she holds her daughter close anyway. Touka giggles and leans her head against her mother, humming happily.

“So if you want your brother to be healthy when he’s born, you have to help Mom out. If not, he’s going to be weak and really sick.”

Hikari looks down at Touka, who was visibly contemplating her mother’s words, eyes scrunched up and lightly nibbling on her thumb. After a while, she looks up and grins widely.

“Okay!”

iv. Son

“Ah… Ahhh… Waaahhhhh!”

The house almost shakes from the piercing scream once more and Hikari slaps her forehead in exasperation. She pushes herself up from her seat and walks over to the source of the screams— the playroom a room away from her bedroom, cursing her fate of never being able to ever watch her favourite shows in peace. By the time she arrives there, Arata is already there, watching the two kids inside with a slight twitch of an eye.

“What’s going on here?” Hikari sighs.

At the sound of his mother’s voice, Ayato scrambles to his feet and scampers over to her, his body swaying slightly, still unstable from having just learnt to walk. The moment he reaches her, he clings onto her leg, burying his face into the fabric of her pants. Hikari sighs and looks over at the other child— a grinning girl, who’s obviously guilty of something, yet feigning innocence by having her hands behind her back.

“What did you do this time?” Hikari asks.

“Nothing!” Touka chuckles. “Ayato’s being a baby.”

“Actually, he still is a baby,” Arata says as Hikari bends over to pick the crying boy up. His face is damped with tears, his nose running a little as well. Ayato continues sobbing, but Hikari’s glad he’s no longer screaming.

“What’s that you have behind your back, Touka?” Hikari asks as she reaches over to the side for some tissue. As she cleans Ayato’s face up, Touka sways on her feet with a cheeky grin.

“Nothing, Mom. I found Ayato a gift and I wanted to give him,” Touka replies.

“That’s nice,” Arata says, nodding towards Hikari and Ayato. “Give it to him then.”

“Okay!” Touka says. She runs over to Hikari and stands before her with a wide, obviously feigned, innocent grin. Touka’s radiating mischief and Hikari knows that whatever the older sister has in her hands is no gift.

“Touka,” Hikari says warningly. “You shouldn't bully your brother.”

“I’m not bullying him. I found a pet for us!” she says and she moves her hands to the front, unveiling the little creature she has in her hands.

“Waaaahhh!”

Ayato bursts into screams again at the sight of the brown roach standing silently in the palm of his sister’s hands.

“Touka!” Hikari cries out in annoyance.

Touka grimaces at Hikari’s tone and she pulls her arms back, dropping to cockroach onto the ground. The insect scampers away from her, probably towards some dark corner of the playroom. Hikari makes a mental note to find it later on— it’s not like she can trust Arata to do it anyway. Fixing Touka with a hard enough glare to make the girl whimper out an apology, Hikari walks out of the room, leaving Arata to comfort Touka from her mother’s stern reaction. Ayato has fallen silently, though occasional sobs still spill out of his lips.

Hikari heads on to her room, though to her despair, she enters it in time to see the credits roll out on the television screen. With another sigh, she turns the television off and places Ayato on the bed. Sitting silently now, he looks up at her with wide eyes, a thumb finding its place between his lips.

“Seriously, what am I going to do with you?” she complains. “You can’t just cry because your sister showed you a roach. You need to be braver.”

Ayato stares at her in silence, eyes still as wide. They maintain eye contact for a moment before he starts looking around and soon, his attention is completely caught by something else— the rabbit plushie that sits at the back of the bed. Ayato gasps, before he turns to crawl over to it.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Hikari snaps. Her son pays no attention to her. He reaches for the plushie and grabs it with tiny arms. It’s almost as big as he is and he tumbles backwards taking it. He holds it close to his body, giggling as he looks at her with gleaming eyes, lips stretched into a smile to wide that his already-chubby cheeks puff up even more. Hikari sighs, climbing over to join him in bed. She takes hold of him and pulls him closer to her, making Ayato squeal and laugh for reasons beyond her.

“Hey, you little brat, isn’t it time for your nap?” she sighs.

Ayato squeals in response, wiggling in her grip and pulling himself away a little. He laughs, puffing up his cheeks and Hikari wonders how his cheeks are so chubby in the first place.

“C’mere you,” she snickers, catching him again. She leans over and when she presses a kiss on one of his cheeks, Ayato cries out in glee.

v. Self

It feels like she’s reliving her memories again right before her eyes. Hikari wonders briefly if she’s truly remembering things right or if she’s simply deluding herself into thinking of merely happier times— to fool herself into thinking that she’s lived a happy life.

She stands facing the Reaper as her family leaves behind her. Her ears ring from hearing Ayato calling out for her, clearly unhappy that it’s his father carrying him now and not his mother. She wants to turn back, but she doesn’t. Hikari knows that if she does, she’ll just lose all courage and strength; she’ll break down right there and then.

They’re further now, but she can hear Touka’s questions as well. She pictures the young girl grabbing her father hand, desperately trying to keep up with his pace while wondering aloud why her mother isn't following them.

Arata must be so scared and worried. He must be hating himself right now for having to leave her behind. But what can they do when there is other things to worry about? Their world doesn't revolve around them anymore. There’s more. They have to give themselves up, they have to give anything up, if it means that Touka and Ayato can live.

Please… she prays, but to whom she’s somewhat unsure, give them the good life they deserve.

The Reaper raises his scythe and Hikari’s heart races. She wonders if the rush she’s feeling right now is what her parents and older brother felt all those years ago. Protecting their family, they fought with their utmost strength— just like she’s on the verge of doing.

Ah. Ren…

She probably should have gone to visit him more recently. Living a peaceful life had made her too comfortable. She had begun to take a lot of things for granted. The last time she saw her brother was probably months, or even years, ago.

I’m sorry, Ren, but Sis has to do this.

She knows he’ll understand, but she knows the pain will still kill him.

Don’t hate Arata. He did nothing wrong. Don't hate the Touka and Ayato. They’re kids.

Don’t hate yourself. It’s not your fault you’re not here.

Just like her family, fighting to protect the rest of their family, Hikari knows that day is her last. Choosing to see the light in her life gives her strength, but it pulls her back a little when she thinks the ones she left behind will look back at these moments with sadness now.

This is the kind of life we live…

They’re predators-turned-prey.

We can only live like this…

She wonders what exactly was so wrong about her existence. The answer is right there, but she questions it nonetheless. After all, what’s the difference between the killer in her and the killer in the Reaper before her.

She knows there’s no way out, but she fights with her all, pushing through with the love and strength of a woman so desperate and driven— that of a sister, a wife and a mother. She has a family to protect and protect she shall, even at the cost of her life— Renji, her timid and shy little brother; Arata, her stupid but caring husband; Touka, her cheeky but sweet little girl; Ayato, her pampered baby boy.

No matter what…

I will protect you.

Once again, please please do reblog if you like this! It’ll really help me out. ♡

[soldierwinterthe]

Celebrate

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1154

Warning: Little Angst, but Fluff in the end.

A/N: I Written this for the #BecasBigCelebration, by this beautiful girl >> @jensen-jarpad ! I hope you like it! ;D

Feedback is always appreciated.

21 years. It doesn’t happen many times in life. But for a person is an important event: you are actually an adult. Nobody will ask you for the identity card in the bars to know if you are too small to drink. You are an adult now.

Too bad I hate my birthday; my parents died on my birthday. I was 12, and my life changed, worse. And partly, in small part, in the best. I met John Winchester, I met Bobby Singer and Rufus, who grew me up and educated me in the best possible way. And then I met Sam, and Dean Winchester.

They became my new family, and I became what they are.

A hunter.

In the last nine years, I didn’t celebrate my birthday, not once. And what’s ‘fun’?

Nobody knows when it’s my birthday; nobody knows that my birthday is the day when my parents died. I remember my first eleven birthdays being one of the nicest of the other; Once, my father gave me a book of fairy tales he read to me every night; Another year, he and my mom brought me to the sea for a weekend; Another year, my parents took me to Disneyland. The most beautiful years of my life. Then came that night nine years ago; My parents had arranged a simple dinner at home, only all three. I was discarding my gift, excited to find out what it was, then the lights went out, and I only heard the screams of my parents, my father screaming at me to run away, to hide and hide. And I was just a little girl, and I was afraid... I abandoned my parents. I was a coward. And they are dead.

The tears flow over my face as I watch the sun appear from behind the mountains. Watching dawn and sunset always makes me feel free, and without thought.

I dry my face, when suddenly I feel a presence behind me; I turn around, and I see Sam approaching me.

“Y/n, is everything okay?”

“Yes, Sam. Don’t worry.”

Sam knows that every year, when it comes this day, I always get sad, and I talk as little as possible; nine years have passed, and it still hurts. I believe it’s normal, they were my parents; it’ll always hurt.

“I and Dean found a case, but if you don’t want to come...”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine; what did you find?”

Wendigo. Our case was a simple Wendigo, nothing that I, Sam or Dean, didn’t already see. After killing the monster, we went back to the bunker; Sam and Dean decided to take a shower and then go to sleep.

Instead, I came into my car, and went to the first bar I found; although I have never celebrated my birthday in the last few years, I feel the 'thrill’ to get into a bar and ask for something alcoholic without extracting a false document. And maybe a hangover will do me good.

Entering the room, I try to keep a low profile, so I sit at a table in the corner where I don’t see anyone, and no one - except the guy behind the counter - see me. After a few minutes of 'loneliness’, the boy who was behind the counter came to me, and greeted me, he asked me what I wanted to drink.

“I think tonight I’ll drink a glass of whiskey.”

The boy smiles, but he furrows. Here, he’s going to make the sentence that is made to me every time.

“You’re old enough to drink?”

I roll my eyes, but I’m trying not to get bored with the boy, and I give him a happy smile.

“It’s the case that today is my birthday, and I’m twenty-one years old. So yes, I’m old enough to drink.” the boy didn’t respond. He smiles, and goes away, intending to take what I have asked.

“You never told us that today is your birthday.”

I jump, recognizing the voice immediately behind me; slowly, I turn around as I see the person who spoke approaching me, and sit down. I sigh, but I say nothing; I wouldn’t even know what to say.

“Y/n... why didn’t you ever say that?”

“What did you expect Dean? 'Today is my birthday, but pretend nothing, because I don’t want to celebrate it because today is also the day my parents died.’”

Tears are slowly forming in my eyes, but I try to turn them back, and avoid crying in front of Dean. I hate when I’m weak, and people see me crying.

Dean swallows, not knowing how to answer my words. After a few minutes of silence, the boy behind the counter returns to our table, and after offering me a glass of whiskey, he asks Dean what he wants to order; he takes the same as I took it.

“You don’t have to blame yourself for what happened.” Dean says suddenly. I look up, and I look at him, trying to understand his words.

“I don’t feel guilty.”

Dean sighs, and then keeps talking.

“You think it’s your fault what happened to your parents. And you feel guilty because you couldn’t help them; But, you were just a little girl, Y/n. You couldn’t do anything.”

And then there it is; the tears. The same tears I poured so long ago, the night of my parents’ death; I know I was just a little girl, and I couldn’t save them, but at least I could try to save them. But I was hiding like a coward; I will never forgive.

Dean gets up from his chair, and approaching me, he shakes my hands between his, and he asks me to follow him. We go out of the bar, and then we go to his car; Dean sits on the bonnet of the Impala, and tells me to do the same.

“Listen, I know what it’s like to lose your parents. But that doesn’t mean that our lives must stop at that day. Your parents will always stay in your heart, but you have to move on. They would like this; they would like you to be happy, and that your life might be beautiful.”

I close my hands to my face, and I wipe the tears as Dean wraps my arms around my waist and embraces me. “Thanks Dean. I don’t know where I would be without you and Sam.”

Dean smiles, and places his forehead against mine.

“So now you want to celebrate your birthday?”

I raise my arm, and I look at the watch on my wrist. It’s midnight gone by now.

“It’s no longer my birthday, Dean. We should wait another year.”

“Can I at least give you my gift?”

I frowned, and before I know what’s coming, Dean’s lips pressed against mine.

Maybe it’s not so bad to celebrate my birthday.

Forever Tag: @hotwinchester - @doro7winchester - @iamthenewthor - @cirunia - @frickin-bats - @giftofdreams - @ria132love - @flirtswithdanger @littlenerdgirl16 - @nanie5 - @crownedloki - @im-a-fandom-slut - @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester

Supernatural Tag: @jensen-jarpad - @27bmm - @mogaruke - @supernatural-jackles - @just-another-busy-fangirl - @notnaturalanahi 

Dean Tag: @love-charmer-sketch - @castiel-angel-of-sass - @catstielanddeanthedog

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just ask me!

[bbfanfic]

16. "If I could, if I could tell you About my longing for you, that grows like hair"~If You (Nu'est W, Eng.)

​I walk down the street to the pharmacy, resisting the shop windows that call my name thanks to the little money shouting in my pocket that I got nothing to spend more than for the medicine for a friend. ​​I walk into the right place and ask what's best for treating cold, then pay for that and walk out. I take a look at my watch. I still got a little extra time before the next class, I think to myself, so I stay window shopping and admiring all the luxurious jewelry in front of a expensive-looking shop. As I stare at the golden necklaces and lean a bit closer, avoiding not to let my nose touch the glass, I suddenly hear a familiar voice behind me. ​​"It's you again," Minhwan's cheerful tone gets my attention and I turn around to greet him with a nod. ​​"Hello, Michael," I use his American name. ​​I see his round eyes travelling down to look at the plastic bag in my hands, then focusing on my eyes with worry. ​​"Are you sick?" he asks and I let out an awkward laughter, shaking my head rapidly. ​​"Oh, no no! It's for a friend," I smile. I could tell him the friend is YoungBae but that’s unnecessary, I guess. ​​He lets out a relieved sigh and nods his small head. I can't ignore his small and cute features and gestures, wondering if he has ever think of becoming an idol. He would suit well as one. ​​"I'm on my way to buy some food as my mom told me to," he gives me a sweet eye smile. ​​"Would you like to join me?" ​​I take a look at my watch again and since I still got time, I nod as a 'yes' and begin walking beside him. ​​"I could get some banana milk too. To drink after dance practices," I say as we walk. He glances at me and insists to pay it for me. ​​"No, I will pay for it myself." ​​"No," he shakes his head and nudges my arm lightly. "My mom always gives me extra money to spend on candy since I was a little kid and, to be honest, I don't even like candy that much anymore. So, I've been saving that extra money for Playstation games and such. I don't mind using it to buy milk for a future star," he addresses me so sweetly and blinks his eyes a few times at me that I have to be okay with his offer. ​​"Alright, alright," I give in defeated. ​​Minhwan tells me that he's a stylist and actually helped to pick out the clothes for our teasers, although they don't show well because the pictures are only shadows after going through the edit but maybe the originals will be released later. I have no idea. ​​I encourage him to tell me about his mom he mentioned before and it happens to be that she's very sick and the fact that he's taking care of her, well… He is taking the scores home from me. I think it's nice of him to do. He tells me how he used to walk her by hand to a food market when he was just a small child and now he always does her grocery shopping because she can't leave the house anymore. I assume he's still living at home. And now he's afraid that he has to cut down his job as a stylist, being very lucky to get to work less hours but having to still work a specific amount of hours for him to get paid of course. It’s just that taking care of his mom takes him so much time, it's sometimes a real challenge. He's very brave and hard-working, I think to myself as I listen to his story. It makes me think about my mom as well and how much I wish that she would still be living and breathing in this world. ​​"Can I hold your hand?" he asks me, offering his palm to me. I look at it, pondering. I've been in the center of scandals before but the warm heart of his has gotten me in so much better mood. ​​"This is how I would go shopping with my mom," he adds as he stares at me with his button eyes and I grab his hand without a second more of hesitation. And he looks at our hands, then giving me such a precious happy smile I wish I could give it back. ​​​​In the middle of our shopping round, Taeyang calls me and wants me to explain what kind of medicine I got for him because of an allergy he has but I had gotten just the right one he had asked for. ​​And as I in the evening, more like at the nighttime, take a bus to get to his place and bring the medicine to him like a real savior, he thanks for it deeply. Tae is a funny-looking sight but so adorable too, depending how to look at him, as wherever he goes in the apartment he's carrying a thick blanket around himself which drags partly along the floor, not forgetting a box of tissues in his arms. His hair too is a bit of a mess, although still kind of on fleek after last night's partying. ​​He sits down on his sofa and tells me to come and keep him company for a moment. I leave my shoes near the door and walk to the living room, relaxing on the massage chair after a rough session of dancing. Tae takes a tissue and cleans his nose before throwing the pills in his mouth and gulping them down with water. He pulls the blanket up until his ears and makes himself look like a well-wrapped burrito. ​​"Poor Young Bae-ssi," I chuckle silently at the sight. "How did this happen? Were you at a pool party in the winter or what?" I grin but Tae just huffs at me and snffs. ​​"Pfft... I felt a bit sick last night already. I guess it's just this small break before next concerts that my body thought it would be a great timing for a cold. But I'm not pleased," his face crumbles as he says so and it makes me laugh a little at his misery. ​​"But at least you have a saving angel like me to fly you some medicine," I joke and gasp as the massage chair finds a good spot on my legs. It hurts so much... But in the silence, I notice Tae looking at me suspiciously. Just staring from the dark. I raise my eyebrows at him. He humms. ​​"How are you nowadays?" ​​And there it comes, the question I expected from him. I just shrug casually like I had nothing special to tell him. ​​"Maybe you can fool the others around you but I can see that there must be something. When you laugh, it doesn't sound authentic," he tells me and I stare at his bare face in confusion. My laughter? I didn't know he would pay attention to such a thing. ​​"Really?" I only ask with a slightly quieter tone than before. ​​"Mm," he nods firmly. I look at my legs momentarily and sigh. ​​"I guess I'm just tired," I try to avoid talking about it for my own sake but he doesn't leave me alone. ​​"Is it because of your mother?" ​​"Not really," I answer and admit at the same time that yes, something is wrong. I hear him pulling a tissue out of the box and emptying his nose before he continues roasting me. ​​"Just before you persuade me to talk," I stop him with a confident tone in my voice. "Don't pity me, will you?" ​​I raise my chin and look at him. ​​"I'm kind of done with that already. The whole company seems to have sad eyes on my back where ever I go because of my mom's death." Young Bae stays still, looking at me calmly and letting me do the talking. His throat must hurt too. I take a deep breath. ​​"I don't know if you've heard about my ex from Ji, or if you even care to hear," I shrug by myself as I settle better on the massage chair and close my eyes because it feels easier to talk that way… ​​​​"I wish I could hug you right now," a deep sigh escapes his mouth when I'm done with my story. I've cried a few tears, staring at the ceiling of his apartment. ​​"I wish I could hold you," he says again silently and I shake my head a little. ​​"It's alright." ​​"It's just not always alright, okay?" I hear his calm voice talking. "What's alright is to feel weak and not alright sometimes." ​​"Sometimes," I repeat the word he used. "But if I went the way and always showed my feelings like they really are, I would be weak and desperate all the time. It was," I breath out. "A big thing for me to let Ji leave the country. That's when I thought I had become crazy, literally. I started seeing a psychiatrist... And the person who took a good care of three kids including me with the little money she had for it, left so suddenly. And now this thing that is clearly my fault," I gasp for air as I start to feel uneasy again. "And that's not who I can be. I can not be a weak leader now. I must be a strong one." ​​And all I can hear is Young Bae agreeing to my words with silence.​

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Letting Go - Part 10: Family Don’t End In Blood

Characters: Claire Novak, Ben Braeden, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lisa Braeden (mentioned), Mary Winchester (mentioned), John Winchester (mentioned)

Pairing: Claire/Ben

Warnings: mention of parents’ death

A/N: So I finally got around to edit this. Last part of my little Claire x Ben series and thanks to everyone who has stuck by it. I hope the ending is to your satisfaction. 

Masterlist

Claire was leaning against the truck as she watched Ben kneel in front of his mother’s grave. He didn’t move when the black Chevy Impala pulled up behind the Ford. Claire barely did either, but she did look over her shoulder. She was a little surprised to see both Winchester’s and the angel get out of the car. Apparently they hadn’t wanted Dean to go alone. Which she was a little relieved by to be honest. Sam and Castiel hung back at first as Dean approached Claire.

“Hey,” his voice was lower than usual, and she immediately took a few steps forward and embraced him, which he returned.

“Hey Dean.” Claire gave his arm a small squeeze before looking over her shoulder to Ben.

“How is he?” Dean asked without looking at her. His gaze was focused on the young man kneeling a few feet away from them.

“Honestly,” Claire looked up at him, and Dean’s eyes found hers. “I am not sure. He seems to be doing better.”

Dean nodded, clearly relieved. “Thanks Claire.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder before he slowly made his way across the cemetery to Lisa’s grave.

Claire watched him as he approached Ben, and she felt Sam and Castiel behind her. Claire felt nervous, unsure if she had made the right call. Sure she wanted them to talk, but she also loved Dean like an older brother or maybe even a father. Ben was… she was in love with him. She couldn’t bare if this moment was what would break their relationship for good.  

“Why here Claire?” Sam asked quietly out of nowhere.

Claire shook her head. “I don’t know, Sam.” She looked up at him, seeing the concern in his eyes, and she looked over at the angel on her right. “I did the right thing right? In calling him I mean?”

“I don’t know, Claire. I hope so.” Castiel looked at her and forced a smile before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Claire leaned into his touch, seeking comfort as she watch her boyfriend and Dean approach each other just out of earshot.

“I guess we are about to find out,” Sam spoke again, his voice riddled with worry while his eyes remained laser focused on his brother.

****

“Ben?” Dean tried carefully getting his attention as he walked up behind the young man. Ben slowly got up and turned around to face Dean. His eyes were red. He had been crying, but he wasn’t anymore. “Are you okay?” Dean dared to take a small step closer to the boy. Dean’s heart was in his throat. This was his fault. He had stayed away to protect Ben, but now the boy had to go through life without his mom. If Dean had only been there Lisa might still have been alive.

“Yeah” Ben’s voice was low as he fought to keep back the tears when he spoke, “it just hasn’t gotten easier you know?”

Dean thought back to his own mom. The way he had lost her so many years ago, how he still dreamt about her, and how he woke up almost every single day wishing she would come back to them. “I know buddy,” Dean nodded. “I wish I could tell you it will be one day but…”

Ben looked surprised. Dean wasn’t sure if it was because of his honesty or if Ben had forgotten Dean had lost both his parents too.

“Mom’s sister she… She pays for this place. I don’t see her much anymore. It is like she is from a different life now.” Ben talked as he turned to face the stone again. “I figured you wanted to say goodbye to her since you… Well I just thought you wanted to say goodbye.”

Dean looked at Ben as he spoke, partly to try and figure out how to act around the kid, but also because he had been avoiding looking at the name on the stone.

“I will give you a minute.” Ben looked him in the eyes and sent him a faint smile as he walked past him, making his way to a bench nearby.

Dean looked after him for a second before he took a deep breath and turned to face the gravestone in front of him. Her picture was embedded into the rock just over the writing Lisa Braeden beloved mother, sister, aunt. Rest in Peace. Dean felt the tears press against his eyes as he knelt down in front of the stone. Lisa had been there for him when he needed it. She had been his strength and she had shown him love when he thought he was the least deserving of it. Dean had loved her more than he had loved any other woman and now she was gone. He had failed her in life but he was not going to fail Ben too.  “Lis, I’m so sorry honey. I never meant for this. For any of this to happen. I will take care of him the best he’ll let me. I promise. I am so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me,” Dean slowly got up and wiped the tears away from his eyes, his voice full of determination even if it was stick thick with grief. “I will look out for him Lis.”

Dean turned around to see Ben sitting on a bench not too far away watching him, and Dean slowly started walking towards him. He sat down beside him. They sat like that for a while, staring out over the cemetery before Dean finally gathered enough courage to break the silence. “I’m sorry Ben.”

“For what?”

Dean turned his head to find Ben watching him. He didn’t seem like he started to pick a fight or like he was angry. He just simply wanted to know.

“For taking your memories. For not being there when you needed me. I should have been there to save her Ben. I am sorry I wasn’t!”

Ben studied Dean’s face for a while before he looked back out over the cemetery. “I believe you, Dean,” he said quietly. “Claire was right. You did what you thought was right, and it couldn’t have been easy. I forgive you.”

Dean let out a breath of relief and smiled. “I guess I owe her another beer!”

Ben laughed. “Or just tell her she was right that will make her day.”

“So you two huh?” Dean smiled as Ben turned his head looking at him, eyes wide with surprise.

“How did you know?”

“With age comes wisdom,” Dean smirked making Ben snort.

“Then you must he a regular genius Dean!”

“Funny! I don’t remember you being such a smart ass.” Dean raised a brow trying to look annoyed, but he was too happy the kid was finally talking to him, and more than that, genuinely seemed to have forgiven him. When Ben just laughed, Dean smiled asking him, “Now what?”

“Well, if you want too…. I mean I don’t really have much family now. Claire said you guys live in some big bunker?” Ben tried, seemingly afraid to ask what he really wanted to.

“You are more than welcome to come stay with us if you want too,” Dean offered, sparing him from having to form the question. “I would like to get to know you again Ben!” Dean smiled when he saw Ben look over his shoulder at Claire. “She can come too,” Dean added, and Ben smiled at him before his face turned serious.

“We are not going to stop hunting Dean. Just so you know!”

Dean took a deep breath, not thrilled about the boy’s statement, but he also knew there was little he could do about it. “If that is what you want, Sam and I will train you. Don’t argue!” Dean added quickly when Ben opened his mouth.

Ben seemed to be a little surprised by Dean’s harsher tone, but then he smiled and reached out his hand, and Dean took it. “Deal.”

Had they been a few steps closer to the cars, they would have been able to hear the collective sigh of relief drawn from the man, young woman ,and angel that had been watching them for the past hour.

Other SPN Characters Tagteam:

@mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @crushing83 @sleep-silent-angel @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @fuckyeahfeysand @thewhisperingfox @hexparker @faith-in-dean @blanketmadeofstar  @feelmeroarrr @tas898 @mogaruke @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @supernatural-jackles @adriellej @dance4angels @charliebradbury1104 @mouselovesmusic @nothin-after-79 @dudalleo @ivvitm1109 @captainradicalpassion @mrswhozeewhatsis @brooke-supernatural16 @atc74 @mamapeterson @winchesterswoonathon @roxy-davenport @sonofabitch-spn @deansleather @chaos-and-the-calm67 @aiaranradnay @angelsdeadromance @secretsandlove81199 @angelsdeadromance @muliermalefici

Letting Go Tag Team:

@maddieburcham1 @waywardimpalawriter @growningupgeek @sprintangel924-blog @sdavid09 @twoboys-and-afallenangel @msdooos @anamarieswift2194 @ellexirmalfoy @percywinchester27 @spn-fan-girl-173 @ijspn @like-gabriel-and-castiel @adriellej @mysupernaturalfics @chelsea-winchester @a-broken-hunter@chelsea072498 @supernatural-official @livelylaynie

[jeichanhaka]

If Any Would Avenge: 19

Chapters 01-10|| Chapter 11|| Chapter 12|| Chapter 13||

Chapter 14||Chapter 15|| Chapter 16|| Chapter 17||Chapter 18|| Chapter 19|| Chapter 20|| Chapters 21+||

Her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon, Snow White glanced over at Neal playing with his figurines and plushies. And a warm smile graced her lips whenever he glanced back at her, offering reassurance. She felt anything but reassured though as she recalled the stranger who'd just showed up in her living room. The cloaked woman may have left without doing anything, but that didn't reassure her. Not when there was a new threat running around without any qualms against harming children.

Glancing over at Sadie slumbering in her bassinet, Snow sipped at her hot chocolate and tried to settle her nerves. Not wanting to worry Emma and distract her from tracking down Storybrooke's latest threat, she had texted David instead and now waited for his reply. Every muscle in her body was tensed up and her bow from the Enchanted Forest was nearby, in case of another visit from the strange woman or worse.

"Come on." She muttered and glanced at her cell phone, wondering when her husband would respond. Picking it up to send another message or call, she jumped when the front door swung open and the phone fumbled from her hands. It hit the floor with a loud clattering noise. And Snow immediately reached for her bow.

"Mom?! Is Sadie okay?!" Emma called out as she entered the house, David close behind her attempting to reassure her.

"Emma?" Snow lowered her bow as her daughter and husband approached, heart thumping with surprise. "I texted David, why…."

Emma flashed her mother an annoyed look before heading towards Sadie's bassinet, and sighing with relief. "You seriously expect me not to come make sure my daughter's okay after you texted that some stranger suddenly appeared inside the house?!"

"I…." Snow bit her lip, slightly irritated by her daughter not trusting her to keep Sadie safe, but also understanding Emma's worry. Sadie had nearly died five nights ago from being born too early. Not to mention what happened to Gideon. The sudden arrival of a stranger with magic was definitely cause for concern, at least until they found out who the cloaked stranger was. "What about finding these...assassins you texted about? The ones you and Regina believe were behind Gideon's…." Snow bit her lip, fumbling over mentioning the toddler's death. Though such things had happened back in the Enchanted Forest, not to mention out in the Magic-less Land outside of Storybrooke, nothing as horrid as a child's death had ever happened in town.

"Regina messaged us on our way here. Maleficent convinced Rumplestiltskin to return, and they encountered one of the assassins by chance and captured him." David explained while Emma focused on Sadie, making sure the five-day-old was fine and healthy. The worry on her face was more pronounced than any other time over the past few days.

"That means that he must know now that Killian wasn't responsible for what happened. So..." Snow ventured, growing expectant - hopeful - that her son-in-law would be released from jail.

"Well…." David crossed his arms, scowling. A critical gleam in his eyes as he thought of the pirate. It was identical to the same disapproving expression he wore when he first became aware of his daughter's and Killian's burgeoning relationship. "The accident not being his fault, doesn't change the fact Hook was driving drunk that night."

"David." Snow reprimanded her husband, not missing his referring to their son-in-law as Hook rather than Killian. A verbal indication of just how much his acceptance and trust of the pirate had regressed.

"What? He broke the law and endangered lives, just because this time he wasn't at fault, doesn't mean…."

"That's not why I…." Snow replied, glancing towards Emma doting over Sadie across the room. It was evident in her body language that Emma was deliberately trying to ignore David's comments and Snow's.

David's expression shifted to incredulous when Snow grumbled that he said 'Hook' rather than 'Killian' "I'll call our idiot son-in-law what I want. He drove drunk. What if one day he does so with Sadie in the car?! What then?"

Alarm and horror painting her cheeks a vivid white, Emma tensed and held her daughter tight and snug against her breast. David's words filled her, reverberating in her thoughts. Before she could respond, her cell phone beeped indicating a new text. Placing Sadie back in her bassinet, while David and Snow continued arguing albeit in hushed tones, Emma read the text message.

Her eyes widened reading what Henry had written, that he wanted to fix things. And that he planned finding out someway to do so by asking the previous Author Isaac. The last sentence of his message proclaimed that he was going to make things right even if he had to give up his power as the Author.

'Henry….' Emma bit her lip and sighed, rereading the text with mixed emotions. She glanced at Sadie in the bassinet and then at a letter from the hospital she'd received the other day.

Standing in a vacant patient room a distance down the hall from where she awoke, Belle touched her stomach, her lips and fingers trembling as she recalled her dream. Its vividness etched into her brain, as was its meaning. At first muddled by her sudden waking and brief uncertainty of where she was, the meaning of her dream and the page with the words 'find me' written on it was obvious to her.

The child - her child - was calling for her. Calling for her to remember and find him, and the page that once depicted him. Her eyes teared up as she remembered that cottage, its image much clearer since waking. Long since erased along with the rest of its book, that cottage was the home Isaac had written her and Rumplestiltskin. And the child was the one he'd written them.

A child she had never truly forgotten, despite the erasure of the Heroes and Villains storybook. Nor had she fallen fully into her husband's thinking, that the baby Isaac wrote for them was Gideon. The maternal instinct beating within her kept telling her the erased baby and Gideon weren't the same. Although, with all that happened since then, she had thought about the child and its fate less and less.

It pained her now to think that she may nearly have forgotten him entirely.

"I'll find you." Belle whispered, clenching her fists to keep her hands from shaking, while determination filled her moist eyes. "I…."

She paused, distracted by the sound of voices and footsteps out in the hospital corridor. One was Dr. Whale's voice, noticeably harried, and though she was too far away to clearly make out what was being said, she recognized the other voice as her husband's. She chewed on her lip, listening to the familiar sound and found herself halfway to the door before she halted.

'Why are you running to him?' Her inner self chastised, its tone as vehement as that of her reflection in the Snow Queen's cursed mirror years back. 'He left you alone, unprotected, which allowed Fortunato to kill your unborn baby and your father!'

Belle shivered, her eyes tearing up.

'He hasn't even talked to you the past few days! Too busy with his own grief. Too busy coming up with ideas to hurt Hook in revenge is more like. You know he'll twist his words and find a loophole to his promise like he always does.'

She shut her eyes tightly, listening to the inner voice, a few tears spilling from beneath her lids.

'Give himself the satisfaction of revenge. But what about you?! What about what you want?! What you need?' Its tone grew more livid. 'He has the luxury of seeking revenge while you are stuck being the 'good' one.'

Belle clenched her teeth and fists, considering her inner self's tirade more thoroughly than ever. She wrapped her arms around herself, scowling. "Can't I be the selfish one for once?" She muttered, considering how she felt five nights ago after hearing about Killian's drinking while driving. Though quickly stifled, she had wanted to make the pirate pay. Even now, despite knowing that Fortunato and his ilk were responsible, she wanted to hurt Killian for failing to protect Gideon.

She backed away from the door, shaking from a tumult of emotions: anger, pain, despair, longing for reassurance that she wasn't wrong for wanting to lash out. For wanting to blame Killian, Emma - someone, anyone - for Gideon's death. She had trusted them to watch and protect her son, and they'd failed.

'I bet they wouldn't have failed if it was their own child.' Belle muttered under her breath, her chin trembling. Her eyes blurred with tears, she didn't notice as the patient room door opened suddenly and her husband stepped in.

"Belle!" Gold hurried to his wife's side, relieved upon finding her safe. Denied the satisfaction of crushing Kidd's heart - at least until the bastard spilled the location of his fellow assassin - Gold had decided to check on Belle. Partly to comfort her, and partly to verify the truth about her having been pregnant before the attack. He wanted nothing more than for Regina to be mistaken about Belle's pregnancy.

"Don't." Belle backed away and raised her hands in a halt gesture as Gold approached. Eyebrows oblique and blue eyes moist, her cheeks glossy with tears, she avoided even glancing into her husband's face.

"Belle, I...Regina mentioned you were attacked. That you lost…." Spoke Gold after he tried to approach and hold his wife only to be rebuffed again; his gaze strayed towards Belle's abdomen, his brain and heart burning with hope that the mayor was mistaken. His legs nearly gave out when Belle covered her mouth with a shaky hand and started crying, knowing the truth before she even nodded yes. "No…." He braced himself against the wall, struggling not to break down. It took reminding himself that while his pain at their loss was severe, Belle's was likely worse. He had lost a son - Baelfire - before, and though he tried not to think about it, since he was immortal he always expected to outlive Belle and whatever children or grandchildren they had. Glancing back at his wife, he approached again. "Belle, I'm sorry. I should've...I…."

Belle just pulled away, her shoulders hunched and face downcast.

Gold hesitated, unwilling to force Belle to look at him or let him comfort her. Though he prided himself on his knavish ability to manipulate others simply with words, he could think of no words to comfort his wife. All his responses froze in his throat as he thought of his most recent vision and how it felt seeing his wife's future self threatening the pirate's daughter. It unnerved him to see such a cold and unkind version of Belle, and all he could think of was how to prevent it. He'd wanted revenge, but not at the cost of Belle's goodness.

"Belle, I…." He started to say but stopped, a chill running through him along with the sensation of something tugging at him; tugging at his dagger. Bristling, he instinctively grabbed at the Dark One Dagger, kept snug beneath his suit jacket, and his jaw clenched feeling the heat radiating from it. His eyes narrowed, recognizing the traces of a strong, but not strong enough, summoning spell. One aimed for his dagger. He swore.

"...Rumple?" Belle glanced up at her husband, sensing the shift in his demeanor. When she saw him holding his dagger, anger shining in his eyes, she flinched and stepped back another step. The only thing that she could think of seeing the dagger was Fortunato's attack, and the sharp bite of his tanto as it stabbed into her abdomen. She backed away further, struggling not to hyperventilate as the flashback strengthened, and missed Gold muttering something before leaving; her husband either missing or misconstruing why she pulled away.