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slyvieselkie · 1 year

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Winx: Fate Saga writing ideas (Season 1)

Hi Lovelies, this is something I had been thinking of for quite some time and finally decided to release it.

So, I'm sure many people have heard and seen Winx: Fate Saga. Just like many of the fans who grew up watching the cartoon, I did not enjoy it a single bit. Winx to me was almost perfect the way it was, maybe a little alterations here and there, but the concepts and ideas they had were beautiful. And Netflix could not have fucked it up worse than they did with the dumbass Riverdale plot line.

Let me explain. Season 1 had some incredible ideas, most it revolving around finding your own identity and understanding it. While it's a cliche story, it's still a great start and connection to many young people nowadays who have no idea where they belong.

For things to take a darker turn, I would start with Bloom and casual discrimination. The world of magic is seen as an incredible and amazing world, this would be a good coming of age moment for Bloom. This amazing world of endless possibilities, combination of dreams and fairy tale seem too good to be true. And it is. Slowly Bloom comes to notice the glances she receive and the whispers of the students around her. She might be a fairy but she's still not one of 'them'. At first Bloom tries to fight it but with her fiery personality it never works out and soon she gives up on trying to fit in conflicted over whether she should just return to Earth as just another girl. She doesn't belong anywhere at this point.

Next up is one of the greatest story line that was skimmed over very briefly in the cartoon. Tecna and her understanding of emotions. This is an amazing and interesting plot. Young people nowadays believe that they feel too much and what to control their emotions. Tecna brings an interesting perspective to this as she has learnt to always place logic first, neglecting her emotions and therefore being unable to identify them, understand them, and truly express them. Throughout the story, she goes through many challenges with this new group where all of them are led by their hearts and emotions. Tecna begins to feel angry, to feel sad, and confused. She tries to distance herself worried about what it happening, actually she feels scared that her world is now being thrown upside down. Once Tecna finally realises this, she now feels jealous at the fairies who can express themselves freely.

Princess Stella...was a complete abomination in the Netflix series. This is how I would rewrite, a character that is beloved by all and yet not many know the real her. Her character was one that defied stereotypes, how the popular and pretty girl doesn't have to be a bully. She's bright, happy, funny and snarky. She's the personification of the sun. I would start with creating an image of Stella as the girl who Bloom wants to become. Then it slowly begins to crumble, the smiles drop and the snark turns into words of hate. Bloom comes to realise the Stella they've all been seeing is the princess, not the 16 year old girl who has problems of her own. And every time someone tries to reach out, Stella will build a brick wall between them. Using smiles and laughs. I think it would be better to leave Stella's problem for Season 2, to keep her mysterious.

Honestly I could not remember what Musa was like in the Netflix series. But Musa in the cartoon was a very interesting character. She's the fairy of music, her mother died when she was younger due to them not having enough money to buy medicine. She's a tomboy and puts on a tough front, despite being the most emotionally vulnerable. I would start developing Musa from her childhood of being the daughter of a successful food tycoon. That's all she's known for, having a rich dad. Who is never around by the way and pressures her to get good grades because she will be taking over the business one day. From childhood she had been used by so called 'friends' for her money, treated differently by everyone, and had very few adults to look up to. Because of this, Musa rejects everything related to her father. Except food and music. Because she still remembers the poor times when they sat around the dinner table picking at the humble dishes but still feeling full with each other's love. Why I chose food was that many second generation Asian imigrants have conflict with their Asian heritage and the way many reconnect is through food. This could also be the same for other cultures.

Lucky last is Flora. Flora is a gorgeous girl with the kindest heart and if she wasn't a fairy she would have to be an angel. Flora, unlike the other girls, does not receive her own story line in the cartoon. However, Flora is the eldest with a little sister. I imagine that as the older sibling, she would be raised to be responsible and be the perfect role model for her young sister to look up to. And she began to embody that as her personality. Flora stays in line and helps everyone out as much as she can. Meaning she starts to get taken advantaged off, and Flora knows it but only accepts it with her smile. Because this is her identity and she feels safe having an identity. But as the other girls begin to mature, Flora begins to understand how changing can be a good thing and starts to break out of her chains.

Mix this in with the core events from the cartoon and some mature fighting scenes, and you have a dark show that doesn't seem so stupid! Well to me any-wait! I forgot about the other characters! Stay with me just a little bit longer.

Onto the Trix (potentially my favourite characters)

For this season, I think I would chose Darcy as the main character with a dilemma of the trio. In the cartoon, Darcy in the first season is physically attracted to Riven (can't blame her) and uses her magic to manipulate him so he would become their spy. I would make this connection more romantically depressed. During his time being manipulated, Riven breaks out multiple times and insults her stating witches like her will always end up behind bars. Darcy grows frustrated that Riven is mentally strong and has no interest in her, not even through her looks and body. As their problems grow personal, Darcy rants to him about how the world and stupid boys always view witches as evil and fairies as good. Here her background is shown. Starting out as just a normal girl, Darcy begin to show signs of dark magic and accept her powers at a young age. Due to this Darcy grew up and begin to act more mature than her peers, dressing more provocatively, and the boys flock towards her. Young and rash, she does whatever they want and gives all of her only to be thrown away for a fairy when everyone begins to split between evil and good. Giving up on Riven, she puts him under her full control, miserable Darcy locks away her emotions and gets back on track with the plan. At the end she is led away to prison and Riven approaches her saying some sweet words to make her heart flutter. With a smirk, Darcy walks off.

Now for some Specialists!

Brandon (definitely my favourite) is Prince Sky's squire, essentially his servant, and merely Sky's shield. But while he is a servant, Brandon is smart, funny, and an amazing swordsman. He is dating the Princess Stella. The man is winning at life. But he is still a servant and that is all he will be for the rest of his life. Besides, Stella doesn't even know who he is. He and Sky swapped identity to protect Sky from a terrorist. Stella thinks she's dating a prince right now, she's not. Just like his girlfriend, Brandon locks all of his insecurities away with a bright smile. Until the secret is revealed and Brandon is back to being at the bottom of society. After this he tries to distance himself from Stella but after the attack begins and Stella is thrown into danger, Brandon charges in to save her and realise he loves her too much. He'll fight his way up, to a knight, a commander, someone important enough that will allow him to stand next to the princess confidently.

To those who read this whole thing, you are truly my lovelies! This is my version of Winx, mature and darker. Winx mixed in with reality to touch the emotions of it's audience which has now grown up or face the trouble of growing up. Please go ahead to add in your ideas and also do this for other shows as well! That's all from me 💋

#fate the winx saga #winx club #cartoon #fairies #rewrite #fantasy #fanfiction

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ninesugars · 2 years

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the way jade is so wildly mischaracterized as codependent is so bad. she grew up alone for the majority of her childhood on an island with nobody else around. why is it so commonly decided that what she longs for is romance? we've seen her feelings for davesprite, sure, but her relationship with dave is incredibly similar to that of roxy and dirk's- roxy didn't know if she wanted to be him or be with him and jade had the same dilemma. why did she envy him, anyways? jade is the "loneliest girl in the world", she feels deeply misunderstood on this fundamental emotional level that she doesn't even know how to begin to tackle- so she sees dave, someone who was raised to fight as she was and she sees the facade he puts on of this strength and wants that for herself. she wishes that what she went through made her strong, having to stuff her own grandfather's corpse and train shooting the wild animals she adored from afar for this hypothetical "purpose". It didn't make her strong. It just made her feel more alone. what she doesn't know, though, is that dave feels the exact same way. dave's trauma didn't make him any stronger, either. they dealt with their anger in different ways and jade admired how dave never hurt anyone or lashed out like she did. she thought, "man, dave is such a good person, he doesn't hurt others when hes hurting. i want to be more like him." but didn't know that projecting all of your anger onto yourself through flimsy masks isn't healthy either! jade doesn't love dave in the way she thinks, she's envious. she wants to be him. but not the him that's just as "weak" as she is. i really do think that as davesprite and jade got closer on the ship and his mask started to crack jade was visibly less interested whether she knew it or not, and that's why davesprite started to distance himself. he knew she didn't actually want to know him, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to know her just yet either. to go through that. to know jade's struggles would be more of a reason to feel like shit about her death in his timeline. davesprite and jade have one thing in common: they didn't get the closure dave did. the realizations he had that what he went through was wrong. jade doesn't know how to interact with this new dave. he's mellowed out, it seems, and she's only gotten more and more angry over time. what closure did she get? bec combining with her? what if that's not what she wanted? dave had all this "liberty" to choose who he wanted to be but jade never had a chance to think about who she was because she was just becoming somebody because of the game and when it was over her purpose was gone. jade is so angry, so so angry that she doesn't even realize it, but what about when she's on earth c? do you really think that anger would manifest itself into codependency, or would she begin to feel what dave felt when he forced all of his emotions down? jade post-canon would revert to being the loneliest girl in the world but not in the way she was before. surrounded by people this time. forcing herself to put on a smile. but when she'd return "home" she'd stare at herself in the mirror, this new jade, with dark circles under her eyes. after scrubbing her face just a bit too long and a bit too hard she'd lay down and stare at her ceiling. unmoving. what purpose did she have anymore? usually these thoughts would spiral until she'd just turn over and try to stop thinking about it, but one night. just once, she'd get a concerned knock on her door from an old friend. dave strider wasn't here to save her from herself. he was here to tell her one thing and one thing only and that was just a concerned word from a friend, not a question; an answer, "this is gonna sound funny coming from me" he says with a dry laugh, "but im worried that you arent as ok as youre letting on. we all are."

and her world crumbles.

#THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE EPILOGUES THIS IS MY POST CANON BRAIN PALACE WHERE I MAKE THE RULES #also this is just. so terribly long but i hope what im saying makes sense #i really love jade i think she deserved so much better #you can tell hussie didnt like her but i do. i like her so much. so im deciding that she gets an arc too #my ramblings #long post #homestuck #jade harley #character analysis #i think?#💬

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jiminiscricket · 2 years

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One last time

Summary: Life gives you a lot, but you should never forget that it can take back everything in a second.

Warnings: This is very angsty. It mentions accidents, and suicide. These are not subjects to be taken lightly, and if it triggers you please do not read.

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Somehow, I disappear during two years and come back with angst. If this doesn't show how the last two years have been for me, I don't know what will. But I am glad to say that I finally feel good again, and that's how I was able to write this. I must say, it is definitely not my best work but I kind of like it anyway. I am always open to criticism and comments so please feel free if there is anything wrong with this. Anyways, enough chit chat, thank you if you've read all that!

“Jimin, catch me!” you yelled as you jumped from the swing you were sitting on.

As always, Jimin caught you mid-air, always the strong, reliable pair of arms you needed and felt comfortable in. You laughed loudly, happy and in love. He kissed your face, showing you the love he had for you. Life had never been better.

But things never last. One day, you are happy and in love. The next, everything is taken from you.

The call came when you were playing piano. The soft music coming from the cords of the instrument interrupted by the shrill ringing of your cellphone. You could never have expected the reason of the call.

“There was an accident,” the doctor said. “We did everything we could, but Park Jimin was gone before he even arrived here. I am deeply sorry.”

The next steps passed in a blur. Living so far away from Jimin’s family, you were the one who took care of everything. Went and recognized him. Organized the funerals. His parents were there the next day, but they were devastated. You never expect your child to be gone before you. You put on a strong face and did all the administrative papers you had to.

Within a week, Jimin was buried in the nearest cemetery and gone for good.

You kept your strong face. It was holding you together. You didn’t cry in front of anyone, kept smiling, went to work. You didn’t want anyone to see how you were truly crumbling to pieces. Didn’t want to admit your sadness because then you would have to admit that it was it. Jimin was dead.

So, you kept going on. Got up in the morning, put on one of Jimin’s sweaters, used his perfume, talked to the shape of him during breakfast, went to work, came back, and bundled on the coach with his blanket. The one he used because you were never good at sharing a blanket, unless you were lying directly on top of him. Ate diner, then went to bed. Your eyes always avoided your ex-dear piano, the sight of it giving you instant nausea now, and that was the only thing you allowed to change in your life. You just tried to install a routine which you kept to religiously. Play and repeat. It wasn’t that hard once you let autopilot drive your life.

“Are you okay?” Jisoo, your best friend once asked. You scoffed.

“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t I be?” you answered as if her question had been absurd. She didn’t answer, because you made her feel like yeah, her question was stupid.

She dropped the subject, and no one asked you if you were fine again. You were glad because you didn’t know how many times you could lie on the subject.

One day, getting home from work, Jimin was sitting at the table waiting for you. You couldn’t believe your eyes, so you ran over to him, but you couldn’t touch him. When he saw your desperate expression, he told you that he was here by heart to support you, but you couldn’t touch each other anymore.

“That’ll be enough for me, just having you here,” you told him, and he gave you a soft smile, those that feel like a caress to the soul. You instantly felt better.

After this first time, you saw him all the time. He never came to work with you, but he was there when you woke up in the morning, when you came back from work, and when you fell asleep.

He talked to you like he had always done, cracking up jokes because he had always been such a funny man, it was part of the reason you fell in love with him all those years ago, in high school. And so you laughed together. You told him about your worries, and he listened as always, only giving his opinion when you asked for it.

One Sunday, you were telling him about this funny thing which happened recently at work when Jisoo came by. Jimin didn’t leave immediately when the doorbell rang, but when you came back from opening the front door, he wasn’t at the kitchen table where you had left him seconds ago.

“Who were you talking to?,” your friend asked. “I heard you laughing from outside. Thought I might have been interrupting something?”

“Oh, no you weren’t hmm,” you contemplated whether you should tell her about Jimin’s presence. He appeared behind Jisoo, shaking his head. You looked at him intently and nodded.

“What-“ Jisoo said, looking behind her shoulder to the imaginary point you were staring at. “What are you looking at?” she wondered, turning around to look at you.

You refocused on her. “Nothing,” you answered, but you couldn’t help looking at Jimin. He told you how unconvincing you sounded and made a face. You giggled at his mimics.

“Clearly there is something, Y/N,” she said, her tone growing increasingly worried. Jimin made a joke about Jisoo always believing she was Sherlock Holmes, and you laughed. “You are worrying me,” Jisoo looked over her shoulder once more, just in case she missed something, but there was absolutely nothing.

“It’s just Jimin and his jokes you know,” the sentence was out before you could think better of it.

“Jimin?,” Jisoo sounded surprised, and she frowned. “Are you- Do you see Jimin right now, Y/N?,” she asked, and now the worry was deep, it sounded too serious. You didn’t like the sound of it.

“It’s just- I think you should go, Jisoo. I am tired, it’s been a long week.”

“Y/N, Jimin’s been gone for five months now,” you definitely didn’t need the reminder. You clenched your fists and frowned. “We don’t see you anymore, all you do is work and sleep. We should go out to the movies or something, like we used to on Sundays!”

“Look Jisoo,” you started, gritting your teeth. “I appreciate the effort, but I really am tired. You should go. We will do this some other time.”

You knew how hostile you sounded and looked, if only by the intimidated look your best friend sported in her eyes. Never had you scared her before.

She left, but you knew that it was far from the end of it. And you were right, because only a few days later she came back. She came with the excuse of wanting teatime together, but you knew the real reason. She told you how she thought you should seek professional help. How you should not see or hear Jimin. How Jimin was dead, and life had to keep going on without him.

But she was wrong. Jimin was right there, and there were no reasons to change life as it was. Sure, not being able to touch him wasn’t ideal. But he was right there and it was enough. You told her so, but apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Instead of appeasing her the way it did for you, it made her concern grow stronger and stronger.

Until one day, you ended up in front of a psychiatrist. “These pills should help the hallucinations disappear,” the doctor said.

“But I don’t want them to,” you fought not to cry. “I want him to stay.”

“I understand the strong attachment you felt to your partner, Miss Y/L/N, but it is time to come to terms with his death and accept your grief.”

When you got home, you told Jimin everything about your doctor appointment, and how they wanted to separate you once again. He told you to not let them, and you agreed of course.

Half of your night was spent thinking over your different options to stay with Jimin. It was around 4 AM that the most obvious one stroke you.

You got up from bed, put on the first clothes lying around, and went to work.

Living in a bustling city like Seoul, you had the luck to work in a 45 stories skyscraper. The good thing about a city that never sleeps, is that you can come to work at any time. Going to your desk, you wrote a letter, that you left there before going to the rooftop.

The chilly wind that met you once you opened the door to the outside slapped your cheeks, and while you had never been too fond of the cold, you find you appreciate the sensation, for once. Like a sweet encouragement from nature. You don’t feel cold, you feel alive. The walk over to the edge of the roof seems unending, your feet getting heavier each step that brings you closer to your goal. Once you reach it, you can’t help but snort at the fact that you had always had a fear of heights, but not this time. No, this time you enjoy the beauty of the city spread at your feet, enjoy how light you suddenly are.

Back to the void, you softly say “Jimin, catch me,” before letting go.

“Mom, Dad, Jisoo,

There are no easy ways to write such a letter. I wish I could say that I am sorry, but I am not. Life here was just not worth a shot without Jimin around. That is not to say that you guys were not enough, I am so grateful to have been part of your lives, to have been someone you cared for so dearly.

But without him next to me, I just can’t do it.

I tried so hard to keep going, to pretend like nothing was wrong. But it was too hard, in the end.

I write this letter to tell you guys how much I love you. You were so good to me in this life. Let’s meet in the next one too, and live more adventures together.

Thank you for everything. Please, don’t be sad. I will be in peace, with the love of my life.

See you, but not too soon. I love you so much.

Y/N”

#bts #fanfic #bts fanfic #park jimin #jimin fanfic #angst fanfic #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic angst #bts fanfic angst #bts one shot #bts jimin #bts jimin fanfic #unbetaed sorry

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martelldoran · 3 years

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Oh hey...

Just going to leave this here for you....

bec pls 😩 i am one (1) weak woman and you come into my home and attack me like this? unacceptable.

i must simply flight fire with hidden blades fire. you have left me no choice.

#this is an attack #bec just wants to see me crumble #rude #seriously tho #who gave ben barnes the right?#out there looking like that #ben barnes has no right to look like this #it's true #look at all my established tags thirsting after bin bons #embarrassing #lmao #ben barnes #i've got mail #bec #mutual love and respect #except that there is none of that right now

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jikookiekosmos · 3 years

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Be Good For Me || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader

➥Summary: You’ve been best friends with Jeon Jungkook for the last several years, and you’d never really thought to look at him as anything other than that. At least, you hadn’t thought about it until that one night where some spilled drinks changed everything.

➥Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut

➥Rating: 18+

➥Content Warnings: making out, marking/biting (not much), oral (m. receiving), jungkook has a big dick, deepthroating, cum eating, thigh riding, praise kink, degradation (only happens twice), cursing (fuck is said a lot), dirty talk, aftercare, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader has conflicting emotions

➥Words: ~4.3k

A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut, so hopefully it’s decent. Special thanks to my Kenz for inspiring me to be more adventurous with my writing, and for giving me opinions and endless support. I don’t know what I’d do without you.❤

There will probably be at least one follow up chapter to this as well!

Thank you to anyone who reads this, I hope you enjoy it~

➥Masterlist

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You fucked up. Several years of friendship, and you’d just fucked it up.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, really. Jungkook was your best friend, and you both hung out rather frequently, practically living at each other’s apartments when you weren’t by yourselves. Never did you consider that there may be more to your friendship, until that one night when everything changed.

You thought about the events of the night that happened less than a week ago, remembering how his hands felt all over you...

You both went out to a bar, you drank, played some pool, listened to live music and had a good time. Something you’d done many, many times before.

However, a waitress ended up spilling some alcohol on the both of you when they were bumped into by another drunk patron. You knelt to help clean up what had spilled onto the floor-

-and that was when you knew something shifted.

You were on the floor, more specifically, you were on your knees in front of him. As you peered up at Jungkook, an innocent enough gesture, the look he was giving you was anything but.

Even in the dim light of the bar, you could see the how the look in Jungkook’s eyes had changed, and you started to feel hot all over.

That feeling only intensified when Jungkook leaned down some to caress your cheek, his hand curving around your jaw as you continued to look up at him from your position on your knees.

You felt vulnerable, but also safe. He was looking at you in a way you’d never seen before. And for the first time - if you don’t count dreams or fantasizing - you were also looking at Jungkook in a different light.

After the incident with the spilled alcohol, you both decided to stop by your place (you both had sobered up at this point) and change clothes before heading out somewhere else.

Then it happened.

When the both of you were in your bedroom and you were trying to change your shirt, you felt arms snaking around your waist from behind. Jungkook laid his chin on your shoulder and you reflexively covered up your chest with the shirt still in your hand.

He’d seen you half-naked before, and you’d seen him. He’d wrapped his arms around you countless times in the past. But something about this felt different.

You’d be absolutely lying if you said you found Jungkook unattractive. In fact, he was probably the most attractive man you knew.

But he was also your goofy, caring, best friend for many years, so any other kind of affection beside platonic had always been, well...

Let’s just say you’ve never seriously considered it. Thought about it? Sure. Maybe even fantasized about it once or twice or a few times? Who wouldn’t.

But, in that moment where he was so close, everything felt so much more intimate and you weren’t sure what to do.

“You know,” he started to say, and you could feel his chin moving against your shoulder as he spoke, “it is really hard to just stand there while you’re here like this.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, the sound of your heartbeat pounded in your ears. “Whatever do you mean?”

He laughed and moved back some. You didn’t know what he was doing until he placed a kiss on your shoulder blade. You gasped at the feeling. His lips were warm and they felt so nice against your skin.

He started trailing upward, leaving small kisses on your neck, and he only stopped when he was right by your ear. You had closed your eyes during the whole thing but you opened them now to see him staring at you through the mirror on your dresser you both were standing in front of.

“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” he said lowly, his lips right underneath your earlobe. You just looked back at him through the mirror, your resolve almost crumbling. You let out a small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper when he nibbled on your earlobe. He chuckled and you felt his chest vibrating against your back.

You held onto the dresser then, involuntarily leaning back in his hold. He smiled at you through the mirror and you were seconds away from losing it.

“I promise I’ll stop if this isn’t what you want,” you felt his hand moving down your stomach, ghosting over the top of your shorts. “But I need you to tell me.”

You just stared at him through half-lidded eyes, not sure what to say. Of course you wanted this, but you were also afraid. You were scared this could change your whole dynamic, and you loved how you both were now as best friends. But also, it could lead to something more.

Were you ready for that?

“Y/N,” Jungkook breathed right by your ear again. “I need to know. Because the more I keep going, the harder it is for me to restrain myself. I want you so bad,” he added the last bit softly at the end, his fingers trailed down even lower still.

“But I promise you, if you don’t want this at all, tell me and I’ll stop immediately.” He looked at you again through the mirror, his eyes sincere. You knew he would never hurt you, he always put your comfort first above everything else, no matter what.

You finally found the courage to speak. You knew what you wanted.

You wanted him the same way he wanted you.

“Don’t stop. Please,” you begged. That was all he needed.

Jungkook spun you around and lifted you up so your legs were around his waist. He wasted no time in crashing his lips against yours, moving them almost like a man that was starved. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him in more.

He sat you down on the dresser, his hands sliding up your thighs as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into it, loving the feeling of his lips on yours. It was a feeling that up until now, you’d only dreamt about, and it was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. He bit your bottom lip, asking for access and you let him have it.

“You have no idea what you do to me, you drive me crazy,” he told you in between kisses. He started trailing down your neck again, and you could feel him start to leave a hickey in the junction where your collarbone was.

“Ah,” you breathed out, the feeling intense. Everything with Jungkook was intense, and you loved every second of it.

You reached down to grab the hem of his shirt and tugged on it. He leaned back.

“Off. Please.” You tugged it upwards and he got the hint. He pulled it off with no hesitation, and he was standing in front of you then in all his shirtless glory. You let out a soft moan at the sight, even though you’d seen him like this before.

This was different, though, because he was here, with you, and you both were about to cross a line you may not be able to come back from.

You trailed your hand down his defined abs, letting it rest right above his jeans. Your other hand was trailing along his tattoos on his arm. His skin felt warm and you felt yourself getting wetter with each passing second.

You started to unfasten his jeans then, and when he didn’t stop you, you reached down and palmed him over his boxers. He left out a soft groan at the feeling, hungrily kissing you again.

He stopped you from going further, moving your hand away. You were confused for a second until he moved his hands around your back to unfasten your bra that you were still wearing. He looked at you as if he was asking for permission.

“Can I? I mean, it’s only fair since you keep removing more of my clothes, don’t you think?” That cocky smirk appeared on his face and you didn’t have it in you to jokingly tell him off, like you normally would.

“Go ahead,” you responded, this time taking the initiative to kiss him. He fumbled with the clasp for a second, making you giggle into his mouth. He bit down on your lip again, making you shut up.

He finally had had your bra undone and it fell off your shoulders. He pulled it the rest of the way down and unceremoniously tossed it somewhere in the room. Immediately he brought his hands up to knead your breasts, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. You arched into his touch, not even bothering to try to stifle any noises anymore.

“Good girl,” you could feel him smirking against your skin as he placed more kisses on your neck. At this rate if he kept up teasing you like this you might come undone before you had the chance to even do anything. Jungkook was that good.

“Jungkook,” you whined, feeling your resolve crumble more with each passing second. He pulled away from you to look at your face. You were breathing heavily and he was starting to as well.

“What do you want me to do to you,” he asked. You thought about it for a second because shit, what did you want? You looked down and saw the bulge in his jeans, an idea coming to you quickly.

“I want to do something to you,” you responded, giving him a quick kiss. You felt him smile against your lips.

“And what’s that, hm?”

You looked down at him again as you palmed him once more. He groaned, the sound so sweet to your ears.

“I wanna suck you off,” you said softly, lips hovering over his. You heard a sharp intake of breath leave him before he was scanning your face.

“Are you sure? Because we can go slower-“

“Jungkook, please,” you pulled him closer again, your breasts brushing against his chest now.

“Yeah, fuck, ok,” he told you, running a hand through his hair. He looked flustered and you giggled again.

“How do you want to do this,” he asked, picking you up off the dresser and setting you down in front of him. His hand cradled against your waist and it was like no matter what he always had to be touching you in some way. You loved it.

“Well, how about I get on my knees for you. You’d like that, right?” Your tone was soft which was a drastic contrast from the thing you’d just asked him.

“At least,” you added when he hadn’t said anything, “you seemed to like it earlier.” You saw him gulp and nod.

“Fuck yeah,” he responded. You led him over to the bed and had him sit down, immediately dropping onto your knees in front of him.

He groaned at the sight. “Jesus Y/N, you look so fucking hot like this. All ready to take me.”

His praise made you even more wet, and you started to work down his jeans and boxers. When you had everything down, his cock sprang free.

Holy shit, he was big. You weren’t sure you’d be able to take all of him.

Jungkook seemed to guess what you were thinking because he said “Don’t force anything, take your time and do what’s comfortable.”

His concern made you even more aroused, somehow. You used that as motivation to take in as much as you could. Before you did anything, though, you used your tongue to give the tip a quick lick, just to see how he’d react.

Jungkook leaned his head back at the feeling, letting out a soft moan from above you. So, he seemed sensitive; this was gonna be fun.

You slowly took in more of the head, working your way down and hollowing out your cheeks as you went. You kept your eyes open so you could see him. His hands were gripping the sheets on the bed.

“Holy shit, Y/N. Your mouth feels so good,” he panted out. Your praise kink was really going into overdrive tonight. Every time he said something like that it just spurred you on.

Soon enough you felt him reach the back of your throat. You hadn’t been able to take him all in sadly, but he was loving it regardless. You could feel his thigh muscles tightening underneath your palms.

‘Ok,’ you thought to yourself, ‘you can focus on his thighs some other time, you have other matters to attend to right now.’

You picked up your pace and Jungkook started getting louder. He was loud enough to let you know he was really enjoying it, and it just made you more determined to do better.

You wanted him to come undone and you wanted to be the one to do it.

You saw one of his fists clenching and unclenching around the sheets. In a moment of daring courage, you grabbed that hand and placed it on top of your head. Jungkook’s eyes opened as he looked down at you, only to moan and close them again.

“God I can’t look at you or I’m gonna cum on the spot. Shit,” he breathed out, his hips bucking up. He tried to move his hand away but you brought it back.

If he wanted to use you, then you wanted him to use you.

He panted. “F-fuck, are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.” His sweetness made your chest feel warm, but you didn’t want to focus on that right now. You wanted to make him feel good, that was your top priority.

You patted his hand as confirmation, since you didn’t want to take your mouth off of him.

“O-ok,” he answered shakily. You could tell he was getting closer, and you wanted to bring him over the edge.

His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tighter the further you went down. Eventually he started pushing you down even more, which you were enjoying a lot.

Too bad you had to start gagging though. Stupid reflex.

Your gagging seemed to spur him on more so you didn’t mind too much.

“Fuck sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to-“ he started to say but he cut himself off with a moan when you hollowed out your cheeks more. You picked up your pace again and you felt his thighs shaking underneath your hands.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m so close, if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth tap my hand, ok? Otherwise - shit - I’m not gonna be able to hold back.”

You didn’t make any move to tap his hand. His noises started getting louder and he opened his eyes to look at you.

That was all it took.

“Fuck-“ he let out a loud moan and soon after you felt stripes of cum hit the back of your throat. You waited until he was done before you pulled off, swallowing as much as you could. Jungkook was breathing heavily, leaning back on his hands now as he watched you.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. His eyes were staring at you hungrily and before you could do anything else he pulled you up to sit on his lap. He kissed you hard and you wondered if he could taste himself on your tongue. If he did, he didn��t seem to mind it.

“These need to come off. Now,” he growled, tugging on both your shorts and leggings. You moved up so he could pull them down, leaving you in nothing but your panties which you had soaked through already. He rubbed your clit through the fabric and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, which made him chuckle.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he said as he continued. Shit, were you really about to cum from him just rubbing you over clothing? It seemed like a high possibility.

You started rocking your hips back and forth and he soon set you down on his thigh. He was probably thinking about what to do next, but since your eyes were closed, you didn’t see where he was placing you and you were still rocking forward. When you felt yourself move against his thigh, you gasped at the feeling.

You opened your eyes and looked at Jungkook, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh, I see,” he said as he gave you a devilish grin. Oh no.

“Let’s get these off, hm?” He asked as he tugged your panties down. You shifted so he could remove them and then he settled you back down onto his thigh. You didn’t know what he was planning, but he placed his hands on your waist. He made you rock forward once more and the feeling was so intense you had to grip the sheets to stop from falling.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, closing your eyes again. He kept moving you so that you were riding against his thigh and it was easily one of the best things you’d ever felt. You knew you wouldn’t last long at this rate.

“God you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook said, sounding far away. When you were moving fine by yourself, he just left his hands around your waist, no longer guiding you. He watched as you were coming undone on his thigh, of all the places.

“Hm, I wonder...” you heard him say before he flexed his thigh muscle.

“Shit!” You moaned out and almost fell down again. You heard him laugh and he did it again. Jeon Jungkook, for the love of fuck-

“You feel so good against me. Fuck, I’m almost hard again just looking at you.” The praise spurred you on once again and you moved faster. He took one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue lapping over your nipple and making you stutter with your movements. You wound your hands in his hair as he continued, his hands still on your hips.

“Jungkook, oh my god-“ you panted as he kept going, the stimulation driving you crazy. “Please don’t stop.”

He chuckled then. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he added in a low tone before switching to your other breast. Your own legs were shaking now, his actions making you feel unlike you’d ever felt before.

And you didn’t know if that’s because of what he was doing specifically, or if it was because he was Jungkook.

Before you had more time to contemplate that, he removed his hands from your waist, holding your hands and intertwining both your fingers so you could lean against his hands without falling down.

If someone had told you a month ago that you’d be riding your best friend’s thigh on a Friday night after coming home to change into different clothes, you would have laughed in their face. But, well, how the turn tables, right?

Jungkook leaned you forward some, changing the angle where you were moving against him so that he could kiss you again. You moaned into the kiss, feeling yourself start to come even more undone. It wouldn’t be be long now.

“You know that favor you still owe me,” he said against your lips.

You nodded vigorously, your moans increasing in pitch.

A few weeks prior you’d promised him you’d do anything he wanted if he left you alone to finish working on something; he wasn’t really bugging you, but you had a deadline you were trying to meet and you needed total concentration. Part of you was surprised he was bringing it up now, but it also didn’t surprise you at the same time.

“What is it,” you asked back, shakily.

“All I want,” he removed one of his hands from yours, still able to hold you up, and caressed your cheek, “is for you to be good for me.”

He kissed you softly and you almost came right then.

“Fuck, yeah, ok I can do that. I love being good for you.” you said the words without thinking and Jungkook groaned into another kiss.

“I fucking love hearing you say things like that. Love hearing you beg for me. You like begging for me?” He was moving your hips again now and you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Yes, I love it, I love being obedient for you,” you responded, again not knowing where the FUCK any of this was coming from but fuck it, you were going for it.

He leaned forward to kiss your neck again, trailing upwards so he was by your ear.

“Yeah, is that so? You love being a little slut for me?” He bit down on your neck as he said those words and you let out the loudest moan you had for the whole night.

“Only for you,” you breathed out, feeling your orgasm approach at an alarming speed. You never knew degradation was another thing you liked, but you guessed sometimes it just takes finding the right person to bring it out.

And if Jungkook was that person for you, that excited and scared the hell out of you all at the same time.

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear,” he chuckled against your skin.

Once again his praise washed over you and you were nearing your high. “Kook, fuck, I’m close-“

“Yeah? Go ahead. Cum all over me like the little slut that you are.”

Andddd that was that. You came hard and jolted forward, Jungkook catching you as you did so. He helped you ride out your orgasm, placing a kiss on your forehead when you were done, letting you catch your breath as he held you in his arms.

“Damn,” you heard Jungkook faintly say, “if I’d know spilling a drink on you would lead to this, I would’ve done it way sooner.”

With what little strength you had left, you smacked his chest, making him laugh.

“Not funny,” you muttered, a small smile etching its way onto your features as you closed your eyes and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“And yet, you’re still smiling,” his soft voice was right by your ear now as he placed a kiss on your temple.

When your brain finally woke up again you briefly thought about how embarrassing what just happened was before looking up at Jungkook, expecting him to maybe be disgusted or even mock you. Who the fuck rides your thigh during your first hook-up or whatever the fuck this was? There was no way you would live this down.

“Hey, look at me,” Jungkook held your face in his hands, his eyebrows downturned with worry. “You’re doing the thing again.”

“What thing”, you asked, still hazy in your post-orgasm bliss. Not hazy enough to feel any less embarrassed, though.

“You’re making the face you make when something’s troubling you. Please don’t tell me you regret what just happened because I definitely do not.” You were still sitting on his thigh and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer. You were still sensitive so the movement made you jolt, getting a chuckle out of him.

“It’s just...that was embarrassing-“

“What?” Jungkook looked at you, baffled. “Y/N, that was easily one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced, why are you embarrassed? Shit, I’m almost ready for another round, but I know you’re too tired.” He gave you a quick peck on your nose and you giggled. You believed him, and it helped you calm down some.

“Now, if you’re done thinking things that aren’t true, how about we get cleaned up, yeah? And if you want me to leave after that, I can, or if you wanna go somewhere else we can, I figured you’re probably done for the night, though,” he said as he rubbed your back. You laid your head on his shoulder again, too tired to even contemplate going out somewhere else.

“Please don’t leave. Please stay with me.”

“Always,” he responded softly. You both got off the bed then to go take a shower, and it was intimate but in a nice, comfortable way. When you were cleaned up you snuggled back into the bed, and he pulled you close, your back against his chest. Jungkook left out a soft sigh.

“Hey,” you heard him ask as you were drifting off to sleep. “Was it ok that I called you that? A slut, I mean. It was kinda just in the moment and it slipped out but I don’t mean it and I hope you know that-“

You turned slightly so you could see him. He looked genuinely worried. You gave him a soft smile.

“Jungkook, I liked it because it came from you and it was an in the moment thing. I know you don’t mean it. You can’t go around doing that in public, though, or I promise I will kick your ass.”

He laughed then and snuggled deeper into your back, nuzzling his nose along your neck. “Got it, I just wanted to make sure. Sleep well,” he finished, placing a kiss on your shoulder blade (which is how this whole mess started, you thought to yourself).

You had no idea what just happened or where this left the two of you, or how this would affect your friendship. You didn’t really have the energy to put a lot of thought into it right now, either.

“Love you,” you heard Jungkook softly say behind you. The three words you’d heard from him so many times over the years suddenly made your heartbeat quicken.

You both said this to each other almost daily, it was as instinctual as breathing at this point. You loved each other very much, as best friends tend to do. But now these words were hitting different. Really different.

And it scared the absolute fuck out of you.

Your brain was on high alert now, trying to sort out your feelings in your sleepy, still slightly fucked-out state. As you finally drifted off to sleep, the only thing you wanted to focus on was how nice it felt to be in Jungkook’s arms.

#bts #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios

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felikatze · 3 years

Note

give me the a brainworms i am deeply invested in this man

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okay first of all you asked for this. second of all if i am a little off track from the game that is explained by me just building thoughts like building blocks without looking back. third i was supposed to be studying for an exam but this counts as practice right? it's character analysis anyway lmao.

buckle the fuck up, my dearest anon, because I have sub headings.

1. A as the Player Character

Let me begin with why I am obsessed with this horrid little guy in the first place: he's a silent protagonist. I am always obsessed with protagonists. It's a law of nature. I love taking hollow characters and dissecting them for scraps. It's a long standing practice of mine.

Being a silent protagonist, A, as X, does not have a set personality. However, there are patterns. Firstly, as any semi-silent protagonist, A is a reactive character. He does not start incidents, he only responds to situations, presented by the Sephirah, as they arise. He does not actively seek out new information, merely going about the routine of expanding departments, but expresses curiosity when information is presented to him.

I'm aware fandom likes to characterize X and A differently, likely because they are initially presented as different characters. I, on the other hand, would like to pose the theory that they are more similar than expected.

I believe that A is also a reactive character, rather than active. Despite the fandom wiki describing him as stubborn, the goal A pursues with such fervor, the completion of the Seed of Light, is not actually a goal he set for himself. Carmen is the one who set this goal for him by leaving him her legacy.

Throughout the backstory we get relating to the Cogito Project, A is Carmen's assistant, whereas Carmen is the driving researcher. This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be; going with the flow of goals set for them by superiors. Yes I will get into his attachment to Carmen later.

The above is not to say A isn't stubborn. Once he has accepted a goal as his own, he will pursue it at all costs, as is obvious from any and all flashbacks leading to horrible deaths. But the point isn't his pursuit of the goal, but where that goal comes from. Even Lobcorp itself supports this, despite what Hokma may say; A as X follows the "simple" task of managing the Corp's day to day activities, and executes any mission given to him by the Sephirah. He outranks them, and doesn't actually need to do their missions, but does so anyway. Players are driven by the reward offered by those missions, of course, and A might be the same in that regard. Nonetheless, at no point in gameplay do you do anything somebody else hasn't told you to.

The overarching narrative of the Script would be the most obvious example. Every single person in the game follows the script, whether they know it or not.

Lastly on this note, a phrase we hear attributed to A, "Machines must behave as machines." Now, Angela may be attached to this phrase because it bears significance to herself as a machine, and informs most of A's unjust treatmeant of her. However, what if it doesn't just apply to machines? The phrase reads as such, "Everyone must act according to their own role."

2. A, Carmen, and the disease of the mind

So, A will at any cost pursue goals Carmen set for him. Question is, why? The obvious answer would be saying he's in love with her, which like, true. But also, how did Carmen come to be so precious to him?

Let us return to the comparison, "This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be." We don't really know why exactly most characters joined Carmen, excluding mainly Daniel and Benjamin. But this does not mean we can't have theories.

Carmen's ideal was curing the "disease of the mind." What is the disease? Complete hopelessness. The inability to form aspirations and dreams, to think of a better future. A is a very reactive character who does not set goals for himself. Therefore, I personally conclude, that initially, Carmen's ideology resonated with him because he could identify with the disease.

This is the point where I start rewatching Lobcorp story clips. Dear god.

So, by briefly binging day 27 onward, I've come up with lines that very much support this lil theory of mine:

First, from Carmen, a description of the disease, "People lock away their own potential."

Second, a line from Angela, after the memory synchronization, "You've locked yourself in this prison without bars."

Carmen describes A as humble, and Benjamin thinks he is warm. If I suppose A was one of the diseased initially, Carmen would be the catalyst for this change. Carmen was someone with big aspirations, with plans to heal what is wrong with the City, and it gave him hope. He was one of the diseased, but through time with Carmen, with that relentless optimistic spirit, he may have been cured, for a time. It's not a stretch to say that she was his light.

But lor shows us what happens when the seed of light sprouts wrong, doesn't it? It distorts. A grasped hope for the first time and then it is ruthlessly crushed. Carmen was everything. Yes, A is described as a jack-of-all-trades, as a genius in all pursuits he puts his mind to, but what does that matter in the face of someone who can unite people? Who can give them hope of a better world? Who can inspire them to actually use the talents they have?

And what kind of pressure is it to put the legacy of a messiah in the hands of the diseased?

3. A and the Perception Filter: A is weak to White damage

No, I am serious about that. He's extremely weak mentally. Obviously death of a loved one is a changing experience for absolutely anybody, but Carmen's death destroyed him.

Not only did he refuse to confide this grief to anyone and bottled it up, now everybody looked to him to lead the project, but he just isn't Carmen. He isn't an ambitious person, he doesn't have the same optimism, he can't bring people together, but people expected him to, and he failed. Hard.

While he was without a doubt talented in science, he was also just an average guy.

After her death, A grew to hate humans. He lost trust in them. He refused to confide in anyone, and be confided in by anyone. Thus, the team fell apart.

In both lobcorp and lor, we get interesting tidbits about precations taken to protect the manager.

Firstly, Lobcorp's perception filter. The cartoony art-style of the game is a result of the game being in first person. Through the eyes of the manager, everything is cartoony!

This is a measure undertaken to specifically protect the manager's psyche. Angela tells us that, before it was deployed, the manager would frequently go insane, one notable incident including the manager trying to hang himself. When we first hear this, the previous managers and X are still separate in our minds. However, they're all A! A went insane multiple times without it.

This is understandable, considering that employees also frequently go insane and try to kill both themselves and others. But they're there in action, confronting the Abnormalities directly. Just watching them made the manager go mad. They could not handle the responsibility for the employees' deaths.

In lor, Angela explains why she picked the Rabbit Team from R Corp as their main contractor instead of any other team. One team was simply too big for L Corp's narrow hallways, and the other team... dealt in psychic damage. It was simply too big of a risk for the manager. But the manager is always secure behind the cameras. Would that teams methods just be that brutal visually, or would their attacks have reached the manager?

Combined with his immense grief at all of his friends and coworkers dying in part because of him, A cannot bear to look at death.

4. A's greatest flaw: Avoidance

A common thread during Core Meltdown flashbacks: A refuses to look at suffering. He just can't. Whether it be looking away from Elijah writhing on the floor or hanging up on Daniel's panicked report of death.

This is actually the thing Angela takes the biggest issue with, and what hurt her most. A would never look at her, acknowledge her, and she did not understand why. But I think A did not refuse to look at her out of maliciousness. Rather, it was out of grief over Carmen. He could not look at her without being reminded of what he lost.

Angela's creation came about because A wanted someone to guide him, someone like Carmen. He threw himself into the project to the point it made Benjamin happy that A was passionate about anything again. But as soon as the project he distracted himself with is complete, he is filled with regret. Carmen cannot be replicated, and he breaks again.

Furthermore, tying this back to my first point about A being a reactive person, we see Angela take charge over A. She's the one recruiting employees and leading the business. It was likely a relief for him to be able to step down from the leading position.

But avoiding it made everything worse. He did not act when he saw Elijah's unchecked ambition, he did not act beyond a simple check at Gabriel's decay, he gave Giovanni the same hope he clung to to no avail, et cetera et cetera.

Avoiding his problems is making them worse and sending everything down the drain (including his psyche), so he deals with it the only way he knows how, avoiding them more!

Biggest example of A's big avoidance problem as his psyche crumbles: the memory wipe. A, in perhaps his one singular moment of acknowledging his emotions, recognizes that he is incapable of fulfilling the Script in his current state. His grief is just too much.

By erasing his own memory, he could start fresh without his grief, because he might've really killed himself otherwise. His suffering became bigger and bigger, and he coped by avoiding it.

The memory wipe allowed him to distangle his problems. Through his interactions with the Sephirah (which I will not individually detail for the sake of my sanity and because I dumped all this on a friend on discord already), he can deal with and actually process his issues one at a time.

As the motto describes, only by facing the fear can he build the future. Only by finally facing his grief and acknowleding it, seeing that the past cannot be changed and he has no choice to move forward, can he actually do so.

5. The Sephirah as ghosts

Lobotomy Corporation feels like a ghost story. I've touched upon this in my previous A post.

As you reach the Corp's lower levels, there are less Sephirah. First there are four. They act like normal employees, and do not breach into the story's underbelly until you reach their core supressions and the facade breaks. Second, counting Tiphereth as one, there are three. They still go about their duties, but they know what they are. Third, there are two, and the facade is gone. They know what they are, and they will tell you about the sins of the past.

And finally, you reach Keter, and there is only one.

This gradual decay of the facade is what really gets to me. I said that by interacting with the Sephirah, A deals with his issues one by one, but that's what the Sephirah are, in this case. Representations.

The people the Sephirah used to be are dead, and the Sephirah are their ghosts. The core supression involve putting these ghosts to rest. Doesn't it match the progression of a typical ghost story? Find the ghost, find what they used to be, and help them move on.

So, if everyone is a ghost, then A is alone.

But, behind the scenes, the Sephirah are still there. They are still people, and they have changed for the better, too. As always, A simply does not look.

(Does he even see the good others see in him? Does he look away from praise, too? Did he even realize Benjamin's admiration for him? Will we ever know?)

6. A's end.

A's progression of moving on would be fine and dandy if it did not end as thus: A does kill himself.

A sees himself beyond the point of no return. Everyone is dead. He is alone. Carmen is never coming back. He can't call it quits now, or else everything has been in vain. (Even if the last days show us a part of him wants to just quit, so badly.)

So, there's only one thing left to do: follow the Script to its ending. Fulfill Carmen's legacy at all costs. Death as the ultimate release.

This is the point where I admit I do not like the death as release trope. But the game does a good enough job as presenting it as the only option A had, or the only option he saw himself as having.

However, I've mentioned it before, I'll mention it again: A was not alone. Death was his release, but he left wreckage. In order to end his own suffering, he inflicted the same pain he went through on others.

Throughout the game, he moves on and pushes through. The ending shows that in reality... he didn't.

At least in lor the characters stick together and help each other heal.

This has been most of my thoughts on A, amounting to my longest analysis post ever, having taken me approximately two and a half hours to complete, and clocking in at 2337 words including up to this paragraph.

Thank you anon for giving me the incentive to verbalize all of this, so I can finally be at ease having inflicted my thoughts on everybody else.

#Feli gets asked #lobotomy corporation #ayin #library of ruina #also i saw apparently another fandom besides lc uses the ayin tag which is just fun to watch honestly #many characters could rival this word vomit probably but as i said i already inflicted most of my thoughts abt netz on my good pal borgor #thank you borgor for dragging me back into projmoon stuff. also curse you terribly #long post #Feli speaks

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 3 years

Note

you opening your requests is an instant serotonin boost for me 🥺 anyway the world needs more yuno so i was thinking a fem golden dawn member who he barely talks to but one fateful night they randomly met by the HQ gardens bec both of them cannot sleep. they talked TALKED for the first time and yuno found solace in her then they started being around each other more then end up falling for each other yeAH

Hiya~! ^_^

Awwww 🥺😭💕 I'm so happy to hear that! Sorry to keep you waiting, but I do hope you like this ^_^

Pairing: Yuno x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

You took a deep breath, filling your lings with clean, crisp, cool night air that smelled like grass and dew. It all made you feel light, as if a weight had crumbled down from your shoulders, now scattering behind you as a cape of ash while your steps carried you forward. You had never been much of a talker, finding a good spot to participate into a conversation, learning all the social cues that seemed to be so clear to everyone else. But to you most of the words they, most of the others, spoke were hollow and without purpose. They were there to only fill the silence, or so it seemed, because most often there was no need to say much.

But then again, perhaps it was better that there were those able to fill the silences. Perhaps it was better that there were those who could speak when no one quite knew what to say. Perhaps it was better that there were those who didn’t worry about being able to say the perfectly right thing every time, and just say something in an effort to help. But you weren’t one of those people, to you this was far more comfortable. Being able to just walk in the garden of the Golden Dawn’s Headquarter, with just the sound of crickets chirping and the rattle of pebbles under your feet as you walked down the path.

Then you felt it, the swirl of mana, like a dormant storm, flowing around you, flowing past you. And as you turned to look at the source of origin, you saw a pair of golden eyes looking at you. That stoic expression you’d recognize anywhere, that swirl of mana, was all too familiar for you.

You raised your hand to your side, giving him a hesitant wave, expecting him to maybe give you a nod and continue down a path of his own. But instead, he made his way to you, without haste, without hesitation. He just walked, as if it was just that easy.

“Hey,” he greeted, as if keeping his words still to himself, just as he usually did.

“Hey,” you replied, feeling uncertain of how to continue, but since you were out, taking a walk, because you couldn’t sleep, perhaps that was why he was out as well. “Can’t sleep?” You inquired with a tender tone, as if a breeze of your own.

“No,” he agreed while gazing up to the clear skies.

“Something troubling you?”

He wondered about it for a moment, but whether he was thinking about what to tell you or if to tell you, you didn’t know. “Probably,” he finally concluded, implying it to be the former. “You?”

A faint smile tugged your lips up, but honestly, you didn’t have an answer. “A lot has happened lately, but I can’t really say what it is that’s troubling,” you admitted.

He nodded, and it made you feel a sense of odd tranquillity. Most often that silence you would have thought to be awkward, something to steer away from, but this time, it was almost as if that nod was of understanding.

“It’s a nice night,” he commented. It seemed so loose. So out of context. But it was true, it was a nice evening.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Reminds me of home,” you continued, not really sure why.

He let out a faint hum of agreement, which was followed by a pause. “Me too. It reminds me of playing outside as kids,” he continued.

You smiled to yourself. He didn’t seem like the type to go out and play, but perhaps he was different as a child. So, you asked him about it. He replied, and you asked another question. And little by little, you started making your way down the path together while continuing the conversation.

Never had you expected to hit it off with him so well. Never had you expected him to open up to you in the way that he did. But. He did. And so did you.

“I didn’t really expect opening up about all of this,” you admitted after a good while, as you saw faint rays of the morning sun climbing up the sky.

“Me neither,” he agreed with a hint of a smile over his lips. “But… you’re easy to talk to,” he continued.

You felt your heart skipping a beat, you felt a swirl in your stomach, and you felt warmth climbing up to your cheeks. He glanced at you, and in that smile of his, you saw careful apprehension, but that apprehension was full of hope. Hope of something that just might be. Neither of you were quite yet sure of what it meant, but you both wanted to find out about it. You both felt the delicate flutter and anticipation of seeing what future might hold.

But for now, you had to settle to seeing each other again. You had to settle to having another long, long conversation, about everything, and nothing, and everything in between.

#yuno grinberryall #yuno x reader #black clover #black clover fanfiction

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retro-memo · 3 years

Note

HERE IS A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU MY FELLOW WRITER FRIEND! WE SHALL PREVAIL OVER BLOCKS TOGETHER!

Prompt: Choked.

SEE YOU AROUND 😍

Okay, first off, giving me such an angst prompt was such a bad idea and I decided to make it worse by also throwing mind-control and character death into it because why not?

Also, everything gets a bit graphic, if that makes you queasy, look away. I showed no mercy with the angst. I warn you.

St*rkers DNI. You monsters touch this and I'll set your hands on fire before shoving them up your ass.

It was like a hazy fog lifted from Tony’s mind as he tried blinking away the dark spots rapidly darting across his vision. He didn’t know when it got there nor realized it was there in the first place.

Groaning, he rubbed his hands over his eyes, startling when he felt the cold metal of the Iron Man suit instead of normal calloused fingers. It was strange because Tony was pretty sure he wasn’t in it the last time he checked.

Deciding not to dwell on it, Tony pulled his hand away from his eyes and immediately regretted it.

There were a lot of scenarios jumbling through his mind of what he expected to see but all of them were easily overpowered by the scene before him.

A part of him didn't want to believe it.

"Kid?" Tony stumbled clumsily forward, his legs wobbling worse than when he was drunk up to his eyeballs at some college party in his youth because a few meters away from his feet was Peter.

Who was crumbled against a cracked wall into a broken heap. He was unnaturally quiet, way too quiet for someone like Peter, who should be bouncing around with energy that could rival that of a sleep-deprived bunny on caffeine.

Even during the often routine visits to med-bay when Peter's face took a nasty beating from patrol, the kid would smile so bright with blooded teeth that shouldn't normally be an honest expression but despite everything, always was.

Peter shouldn't be so still. His chest wasn’t moving, head rolled to the side while blooded curls hid his face and his Spider-Man suit, the one Tony had designed for him — to keep him safe, was scorched and torn as if had gone through a shredder.

A large part of Tony was hoping the red splattered across the kid’s chest was the color of the suit. He didn’t want to think of what else it could really be.

"Peter?" Tony tried again but didn't get any response. Not even a sleepy mumble that he'd grown accustomed to when he carried the kid to bed after binging a bunch of Star War movies.

He took another step forward, hand hovering awkwardly over the kid's prone body, not willing to touch yet, afraid everything would shatter if he laid his hand on his mentee's shoulder.

"Underoos?" Tony softly coaxed again, trying to get a response, any response really. He gently curled his fingers around Peter's chin as if it was the most delicate glass, tilting it up towards the light and—

Empty eyes stared back at him.

Not the eyes that would light up whenever Tony ruffled the kid's hair nor the ones that would sparkle with enough sass to rival his own. They were just empty, no sign of life behind them.

"Peter." Tony wheezed, breath leaving him all at once and lungs squeezing impossibly tight because — This had to be some stupid-ass vision his brain was playing on him. This wasn't happening.

Not to Peter. Not to his kid.

“No, no, hey, kid, no.” He desperately grabbed Peter's way too pale face, ignoring the clumsiness and trembling of his hands. “Peter, bambino, don’t do this to me.”

That was Tony when saw it. The horrible angle of Peter’s neck, the dark bruises that resembled a hand — as if some choked his kid. Someone had the audacity to choke his kid and snap his neck in half—

It wasn't until Tony finally looked down, at his own gloves, did the pit of his stomach collapse and a horrible sound forced its way out of his throat. He ripped his hands away from Peter’s body, his own kid’s body, as if it suddenly became molten lava and he’d been burned.

“No —” Tony choked, scrambling away because his own hands, on his Iron Man’s gloves there was blood. Not just any blood but Peter’s blood. It all came back too fast. Someone had been in the lab and decided to use him as a puppet.

He remembered the bright flash that overwhelmed him, took control of his very body while his own subconsciousness could only helplessly watch as he was made to attack Peter.

Tony remembered Peter frantic and strained pleaing, how he desperately yelled at himself to stop or for Peter to not hold back— to fight back.

He remembered wrapping his hand around his kid’s throat, his Spiderling, the person he’d sworn to protect.

He choked Peter.

He snapped his kid’s neck in half as if it was a twig.

“No.” Tony’s back hit a solid surface behind him and he sank down to his knees, hand covering his mouth as he sobbed. It felt too hard to breathe. He couldn't breathe. He killed Peter.

Another sob forced its way out of him and for the first time in years, Tony Stark cried. He cried for what he lost. He killed his kid. His kid was dead because of him.

He did this. Peter's blood was on his hands and it all was his fault.

He wasn’t strong enough and now his kid was dead.

"I'm sorry." He sobbed again, it was all he could do, caring little for the tears streaming down his face.

I'm sorry I failed you.

#i'm sorry #i made myself cry #major character death #prompt ask #irondad #irondad and spiderson #spiderson #what have i done??#angst #mind-control #tony stark #peter parker #sorry not sorry #anti st*rker #i regret everything #You gave me too much power

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ellewords · 3 years

Note

At Osamu’s wedding, no one can really figure out why Atsumu is being so distant. It’s his brother’s big day! He should be celebrating, living it up, having a great time! Instead, he keeps mostly to himself before the ceremony, only returning to the group to calm ‘Samu down when he has a bit of a freak out because a few more people than expected showed up and they aren’t sure if they’ll have enough food for everyone (they manage just fine, but not without a lot of grumbling). The rest of the time before the wedding starts, ‘Tsumu stays away as much as possible going over his best man speech. During the ceremony, he manages to keep up a happy air because he is happy, he is. He’s just also feeling a little off.

During the reception, Atsumu gives an absolutely stunning speech. It has the crowd in tears and laughter, Osamu’s partner looks like they might start crying happy tears, and Osamu himself looks really touched at the entire thing. He had thought Atsumu was opposed to the entire wedding because of how he was acting earlier, but now he can see that Atsumu is happy for them, sincerely, genuinely, so happy for them. There’s only one line at the very end, something about Osamu moving on, that strikes a bit of a cord for the people that really know Atsumu, but it’s just vague enough that no one else can tell if it’s a throw-away line or if it has his entire heart on display. Osamu gives him a strange look, like he can tell what it really meant, but he says nothing.

After his speech, Atsumu spends a bit of his time getting congratulated and praised for his speech by the wedding party, and then by the crowd as he slowly makes his way out to a secluded corner outside. He stares at the moon and the stars for a few minutes before his walls finally crumble. He doesn’t cry, but he looks like he’s about to at any given second, eyes shining with unshed tears, cheeks red, trembling lips, deep, uneven breaths leaving his mouth.

It hadn’t hit him until earlier that morning that Osamu getting married meant a lot of things for the both of them. It meant ‘Samu was starting a new life. It meant ‘Tsumu had a new sibling-in-law. It meant they had a bigger family now... but it also meant that they were moving on. From the past, from each other. He’d gotten the same feeling when his brother had decided to stop playing volleyball all those years ago. Loneliness in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. It had taken him months after finding out for Atsumu to realize that just because they were apart didn’t mean that they were alone. They were still twins and they could still interact and clown each other and be just as close as they had been all their lives. They could still depend on each other even if they weren’t following the same path and around each other all the time. But this... this feels different. Osamu has someone new to depend on, now. Atsumu wouldn’t be his only crutch anymore. He’d realized that he never actually was Osamu’s only crutch, but Osamu was definitely his, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to lose that. But he wouldn’t say any of that out loud. He wasn’t that selfish.

Atsumu nearly shits himself when he realizes that Osamu has wandered out and is now standing beside him, eyes directed at the sky, knowing that Atsumu would hate to be seen like this. So he doesn’t look. Instead, he just stands there, a plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other. They don’t exchange any words; they just wait for Atsumu’s breathing to even out. Then, Osamu hands him the food and drink and sits next to him, still looking at the stars. Atsumu tries to urge him to go back inside, he’s the man of the hour after all, but Osamu just shrugs. It’s simple, and so Osamu, but it’s just enough that Atsumu knows what he means. He cries then, eating his food in hopes of smothering the sound, but Osamu doesn’t mind.

It looks like his crutch is sticking around longer than he thought.

— from elle ! okay anon, just...wow. i'm literally breathless just from reading this. the way you put emotion into words...just nothing short of amazing. and i can totally see it happening too which i guess makes it all the more heartbreaking? aaaah idk this just—- i love your take on their relationship so much. picking up where you left off for my quick little addition, all under the cut, and i focused it a bit more on samu since yours placed an emphasis on tsumu. and also bec you captured tsumu so perfectly that i don’t think i can add anything more hahaha thank you so so much for this anon and I hope you're having a wonderful day. <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

the loud music that played throughout the reception hall had been reduced to a dull thud, a distant melody that rung in osamu’s ears as his brother scarfed down the plate of food he had brought him. it started out as a single tear, that developed into two, and seconds later an entire stream had been running down atsumu’s face.

osamu didn’t know what he had been expecting when he wandered out into the cold night air, essentially throwing his spouse out all alone into the pushy aunts and uncles, all the relatives who wanted nothing more than to converse with them alone for just a few minutes.

“ 'm needed elsewhere.” he had explained, hoping that his partner would understand where he was coming from, why he had to step out for just a few minutes.

and lucky enough, his spouse did. they give him an encouraging smile, gaze scanning around the reception area for any sign of their new brother in law, only to be met with nothing. “go ahead, i'll hold things down for now.”

osamu watched as his brother practically demolish the plate of food, gulping down the drink alongside it in just a few minutes. it’s silent, probably the most silent things have been between them, save for atsumu’s occasional sniffles or the yelling from the reception. a more upbeat song had begun playing, the kind that raised one’s heartbeat and made it almost impossible not to move to the beat.

“you’re missin’ out on all the fun.” atsumu mumbled, wiping the corner of his lips with the sleeve of his shirt.

osamu’s nose crinkled at the sight, handing atsumu a tissue from his pocket, “i know, but it’s a nice time to be out, isn’t it?”

a cold breeze blew past the two of them, threading in between their hair, through the fabric of their button-ups, sending chills down their spines. he took a deep inhale, closing his eyes in an attempt to steady the beating of his heart. atsumu followed suit, trying to get himself to relax a bit more. osamu’s exhale was much shakier than atsumu’s had been.

“things are different now, aren’t they?”

there was no need to answer the question, not with both of them having known the answer for quite some time now. things had been changing for years, with each day that passed, with the general passing of time. it had changed when osamu expressed no longer wanting to play volleyball, it had changed when atsumu began to play professionally, it had changed when osamu admitted to his brother that he planned on marrying his partner. the wedding itself wasn’t the sole catalyst of it all.

“they are. but is that so bad?”

osamu’s surprised, whipping his head towards atsumu’s so he now faced him. raising a brow, he gestured for his brother to continue.

atsumu smiled, small and somewhat wistful, as he stared out into the starless night sky, “we’re livin’ the lives meant for us, aren’t we? me with volleyball, you with onigiri miya. and yer married now too, and they’re fantastic. but i'll still have ya, and you’ll still have me.”

osamu nodded along, it was something that he had been thinking about for a while now, maybe since the day he stopped playing volleyball; the distance and difference in the lives that they wanted to live.

but here atsumu was, on a grand spiel about change and constancy, how both could be things that coexisted, how the two of them were pretty much proof of that idea.

osamu smiled, any ounce of doubt slowly disappearing. atsumu might still need him, but he needed him back just as much. and they’d be a constant in each other’s changing lives, whether they liked it or not.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what would the hq characters be like at a wedding? | written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot

join my hq taglist here. <3

#atsumu pls—- 🥺#you too osamu 🥺#gosh i love these two sm #and i love !! this !! so thank you anon #written on the margins 🔖#atsumu headcanons #atsumu scenarios #osamu headcanons #osamu scenarios #🎐 — anon! <3

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suituuup · 3 years

Note

Potential angsty prompt? Beca gets a phone call about her mom dying. Chloe offers to go to the funeral with her even though Beca is reluctant. When they get there, Chloe realizes how shitty of a parent Beca’s mom really was.

through thick and thin

rated: T

word count: 2,600

ao3 link

“Bec?” Chloe calls out as she steps inside their apartment, dropping her keys in the bowl by the entrance. She shuts the door and shrugs off her coat, venturing further inside on a search for her girlfriend.

Unsurprisingly, Beca is hauled up in her office, headphones on her ears as she messes with her mixing program.

“Babe?”

Beca’s chair pivots, and she lowers her headphones, smiling softly. “Hey.”

Stepping closer, Chloe leans down to press a kiss to Beca’s lips, smiling against them when Beca reaches up to cup her jaw, keeping her there for a beat longer. “Any special request for dinner?”

“Nope. I’ll be there in a sec to help you.”

“I’ve got it, you can keep working.”

After peering in the fridge for options, Chloe decides to heat up the lasagna leftovers, washing the salad and making a vinaigrette while it’s in the oven. Soft footsteps make her look up, and she smiles as Beca kisses her cheek on her way to the fridge.

“So um, I need to fly back to Seattle tomorrow,” Beca blurts in the middle of dinner.

She’s been quieter than usual, pushing her food around in her plate instead of eating it. Chloe was about to ask her what was wrong when Beca spoke up.

“How come?”

Beca clears her throat, shifting in her chair. “My aunt called earlier today, um, it’s my mom. She died this morning.”

Chloe’s eyes widen in shock. “What?” She sets her fork down, pushing her plate away. “Oh my god, baby…” She’s about to go around the island to hug Beca, but Beca is already on her feet, carrying her plate to the sink.

“So um, yeah. I should be back on Sunday.”

“Bec…” Chloe murmurs, crossing the kitchen and wounding an arm around her fiancée’s waist. She props her chin on Beca’s shoulder. “I’ll call my boss and ask for a couple days off.”

“That’s really not necessary, Chlo. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Beca doesn’t talk much about her mother; Chloe knows their relationship was strained, without ever finding out the reason behind it. But still, she just died, and Beca will surely need someone to lean on.

“Baby, I don’t think--”

But Beca pulls away before she can finish her sentence. “My head is killing me, I think I’m gonna go lie down.”

Chloe watches her go, her heart feeling heavy and torn as to what to do. She cleans up the kitchen to give Beca some time to herself, then heads down the hall with a steaming mug of Beca’s favorite herbal tea. Beca’s curled up on her side with her back to the door when she steps inside their bedroom, and Chloe rounds the bed, setting the mug on the bedside table.

She sits down on the edge of the mattress, bracing a hand over Beca’s upper arm.

“M’sorry I snapped,” Beca mumbles, glancing up at her.

“It’s okay. Do you want me to pack your bag? What time is your flight leaving?”

“Eleven, I think.” Beca shifts to sit up, Chloe’s hand falling to her lap. “My aunt asked me to speak.”

“You don’t have to if it’s too hard,” Chloe murmurs, tilting her head to the side.

“That’s the thing; it’s not hard. It’s…” Beca sighs. “I don’t feel anything. And I should, right? She was my mom. I should be sad or something. She just…” Beca’s jaw clenches, her eyes shutting for a moment. Chloe slides her hand into hers in wordless encouragement. “We never got along. She had an alcohol problem when I was a kid, and I never really had the whole love and affection kids are supposed to get from their mom. But she was still my mom.” Beca inhales sharply. “But then... I told her about you. About us. The summer after Worlds, after we got together. I think she was shocked that I was with a woman, but the things she said, Chlo…” she shakes her head, puffing out a breath. “She told me to leave. That was the last thing she said to me. Our relationship was strained ever since I went to live with my dad and Sheila, but it crumbled that day.” Beca’s eyes find Chloe, a mixture of hurt and uncertainty swirling in them. “I don’t have anything nice to say about her, because I don’t think she was a good person. Even in the rare times she was sober, she was just-- she brought people down.” She swallows, squeezing Chloe’s hand. “Does that make me heartless?”

Chloe shakes her head, lifting their joined hands to press a lingering kiss to Beca’s knuckles. “No. Absolutely not. And you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. In fact, you don’t even have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t, but there’s a shit ton of stuff that needs to be dealt with and I can’t let my aunt handle everything.”

“I can help with that,” Chloe says. “You don’t have to go by yourself.”

Beca sighs. “You’re gonna regret coming… her side of the family isn’t fun.” She skims her thumb over Chloe’s knuckles. “But I guess it would suck less if you were by my side.”

Beca has always had trouble showing her vulnerable side, so Chloe knows that’s the closest she’ll get to I need you.

“Okay. I’ll call the airline.” She leans in to peck Beca’s lips. “Right after I draw you a bath.”

Beca groans. “I don’t deserve you.” She chases Chloe’s lips in another short kiss. “You’re joining me, right?”

“You bet.”

They land in Seattle just after one the next day. Beca’s aunt picks them up from the airport and drives them to Beca’s childhood house. Chloe’s never been there, and she can’t quite suppress her amazement when she first steps inside Beca’s old bedroom.

“The Spice Girls, huh?” She asks with a shit-eating grin, tilting her chin towards the poster hanging above Beca’s bed.

“Shut up,” Beca mutters, rolling her eyes. “I’m surprised she kept my room as is.” She walks to her dresser, picking up a picture of herself as a toddler, with her mom and dad. Seemingly catching herself, Beca sets it back down, clearing her throat. “I need to sort through everything. What’s trash and what can be given away.”

“You’re not keeping anything?”

Beca shakes her head. “No. I already took what mattered to me the day she told me to leave.”

They spend the rest of the afternoon packing Beca’s childhood things into boxes and make a trip to the dump for the things that need to be thrown away.

Around six, they head to Beca’s aunt’s for dinner.

“I’m sorry if this is awkward,” Beca mumbles as she reaches up to ring the doorbell. “Hopefully it won’t drag on.”

“Beca, Chloe,” Annie greets with a small smile as she opens the door. “Come on in.”

They’re led to the dining room, where Beca’s uncle Jerry is already sat. “Hey there, Beca.”

“Hey uncle Jerry,” Beca says with a nod, then points to Chloe. “This is my girlfriend Chloe.”

She doesn’t miss the way her aunt and uncle glance at each other, and her skin crawls in discomfort.

“Have a seat, girls, I’ll bring out the dish.”

Chloe sits down next to Beca, casting her uncle a polite smile when she catches him looking at her. Beca and her aunt exchange small talk about Beca’s career over the first fifteen minutes, before Annie’s focus shifts to Chloe.

“And what do you do, Chloe?”

“I’m a vet, ma’am.”

“Oh, how fun!” The older woman gushes. “Well you’re such a good friend for being there for Beca through such a challenging time.”

Beca clears her throat. “Chloe’s my girlfriend, aunt Annie. We’re living together as a couple. Surely mom told you that.”

Annie purses her lips, setting her wine glass down. “She simply said you were going through a… phase.”

Beca scoffs, her eyes rolling through the ceiling before she stabs a piece of carrot a bit too hard. “Of course she did.”

“Beca honey, your mom just wanted you to be happy. She loved you.”

“Telling me she doesn’t want to see me anymore isn’t my definition of loving your own child.”

“She was hoping it would make realize this…” she motions between Beca and Chloe with her fork, as though unable to say it aloud. “Is not something that would last. That you’d come to your senses and go back to dating men.”

“Fuck this,” Beca mutters, throwing her napkin on the table. “You’re really no better than her.”

The way Annie’s eyes darken shakes Chloe to the core. “Beca, that is not an appropriate way to talk about your dead mother!”

Beca ignores it, pushing to her feet. “We’ll see you at the funeral tomorrow.”

Chloe follows her girlfriend towards the exit, catching her arm as Beca walks towards the driver’s side. “Gimme the keys, I’ll drive.”

Thankfully Beca doesn’t put up a fight and nods, handing Chloe the keys and wordlessly slipping in the passenger seat. Chloe backs out of the driveway and takes a right, driving for a couple minutes before pulling up on the side of the road when it seems like Beca is on the verge of a panic attack.

She unbuckles herself and twists in her seat, resting a hand over Beca’s back as Beca leans forward, struggling to breathe.

“It’s okay, let it out, baby.”

A sob wretches itself from Beca’s throat and Chloe’s heart cracks as Beca breaks down, fat tears rolling down her face.

“Breathe,” Chloe reminds her, rubbing soothing circles over her jacket. “Inhale, exhale.”

It takes Beca a few minutes to calm down. She sniffles, wiping her cheeks with the hem of her sleeves. “God, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, babe,” Chloe murmurs, reaching out to tuck Beca’s hair behind her ear. “They’re the ones in the wrong here.”

Beca nods, puffing out a breath. “Can we leave right after the service tomorrow?” She croaks out. “You think— we could drive down to your parents’? We haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Of course.” Chloe smiles. “They’ll love that.”

Beca has been a part of the family ever since Chloe introduced her just over three years ago, and Chloe’s pretty sure they love Beca more than her.

(she secretly loves how obsessed they are with her girlfriend.)

The funeral unfolds as it should the next morning, and a service is held in Beca’s childhood home shortly after. Chloe helps however she can, putting aside her irritation towards Beca’s aunt so things can run as smoothly as possible, because Beca doesn’t need any more drama.

“Babe?” Chloe calls out as she makes it to the top of the stairs. Everyone’s left save for Annie and Jerry, and Beca disappeared a while ago. She finds Beca leaning against her empty bedroom door frame and wraps an arm around her waist from behind, propping her chin on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Beca whispers, inhaling sharply. “Just… memories.” She turns around, looping her arms around Chloe’s neck and pecking her lips. She looks like she’s been crying, but Chloe doesn’t bring it up. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Of course.” She rubs her nose against Beca’s sweetly. “You ready to go? If we leave now we should be on time for dinner. Mama Beale is making her famous salmon risotto.”

Beca hums. “Sounds amazing.”

She hits the lights and shuts the door behind her, linking her fingers with Chloe’s as they head out of the house.

The first half of the ride is spent in silence, Beca’s playlist drifting through the speakers on low volume while Beca stares out the window, absentmindedly stroking Chloe’s knuckles back and forth with the pad of her thumb as they hold hands over the console.

“Sometimes I’m terrified of having kids,” she blurts out, cutting through Chloe’s thoughts. “I didn’t have any role model growing up and part of me is scared that being a shitty parent is like-- a genetic thing.”

Chloe’s head shakes, and she glances away from the road for a second to cast her a soft smile. “It’s not, babe.”

“The rational part of me knows that, but I can’t completely shut down those thoughts that I’m bound to screw up. But then I think of you and-- how I’m the best version of myself when you’re around and I know our kids -- whenever we decide to have them, seriously there’s no rush -- will have the same effect.”

These moments -- the ones where Beca cracks herself open -- are still rare despite the trust she holds in her heart for Chloe, and they never fail to bring tears to her eyes. Especially when it deals with an important subject that they’ve never brought up before, one that is very dear to Chloe, as she’s always wanted to be a mother.

“You’re serious about wanting kids?” She asks, unable to completely tame the emotion leaking in her voice.

“Yeah. Someday. You know, when you and I married and in a good place with our careers.”

Chloe’s heart trips at the imagery, and a wide smile breaks across her features. “Okay,” she croaks out, squeezing Beca’s hand. “Sounds like a great plan.”

They make it to the house a little over an hour later, and Chloe’s mom wraps Beca up in a warm embrace as soon as they make it across the threshold.

“What a lovely surprise,” Alice gushes as she waves them in after hugging her daughter next.

“Thank you for having us last notice,” Beca says, smiling genuinely for the first time in the last couple days. “What’s up Mike?” She asks when they step inside the kitchen, where Chloe’s dad is setting the table.

“Hey!” Mike exclaims, a beaming grin stretching across his features. “You guys have a seat. Beer?”

“Please,” Beca sighs, shrugging off her coat and scarf and draping them over her chair before easing down on it. She smiles and leans against Chloe’s lips when she kisses her temple, quietly thanking Chloe’s dad as he sets a chilled bottle of local beer down in front of her. “Smells great, Alice.”

“Fresh salmon caught by Mike yesterday,” Chloe’s mom informs them as she sets the dish down in the centre of the table.

“Going back tomorrow, if you wanna join,” Mike states, his tone teasing as Beca is not really one for the outdoors.

“You know what? Count me in,” Beca says, surprising everyone at the table. “I think I could use some fresh air.” She glances at Chloe. “I’ll need spare clothes, did not plan a fishing trip when I packed.”

Chloe chuckles. “Sure thing, babe. Can I convince you to go for a hike as well?”

“Let’s not push it, Beale,” Beca mutters, smirking. “But I won’t say no to a walk to the beach tomorrow morning before breakfast.”

It’s a Beale tradition to go on a morning beach walk after both Thanksgiving and Christmas, holidays which Beca spent in Oregon the last two years.

After a delicious dinner and helping out with the dishes, they head up to Chloe’s bedroom just after ten.

“And you made fun of me for liking the Spice Girls,” Beca quips as she slides under the covers, eyeing the Pussycat Dolls poster hanging on Chloe’s opposite wall.

Chloe giggles. “I had a huge crush on Nicole Scherzinger.”

“Can’t blame you.” Beca sobers up, curling up close to Chloe and cupping her cheek tenderly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She kisses Beca softly, holding her waist under the covers. “Turn around, I’m the big spoon tonight.”

Beca chuckles and does as she’s told without objection, lacing their fingers. “Night, Chlo.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

#bechloe #bechloe fic #chloe beale #beca mitchell

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massivedrickhead · 3 years

Note

Hiiii can you pretty please do a follow up to the one shot of chloe hitting Beca which her car?!

Read part 1

Read on AO3

Beca limped her way towards the front door of her apartment, fumbling with the keys as she tried to get them out of her pocket.

“Let me,” Chloe said, taking them from her.

“Thanks,” Beca said, leaning heavily against her crutch. The pain in her ribs and pelvis were really starting to make themselves known now.

Chloe unlocked the door and held it open for Beca.

Chloe wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Beca’s apartment was nice, if not a little bare.

Knowing what Beca’s mental state had been like before the accident, Chloe had been picturing a bit more of a mess, but the apartment was clean and tidy. The only thing that looked out of place was the note on her coffee table.

Chloe looked away, and tried not to imagine what was written on it.

“Thanks for the ride,” Beca said. “Do you wanna stay for a coffee?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, smiling, putting Beca’s bag on the floor.

“Can you, uh, help me make it?” Beca asked, embarrassed.

“Yes,” Chloe said, grinning even more, glad that Beca was actually asking for help. “Of course.”

Chloe followed Beca into the kitchen, and switched the kettle on.

“The mugs are in the cupboard above the microwave,” Beca said. “I can’t stretch up to reach them.”

“I got it,” Chloe said, taking down two mugs. “Sugar?”

“Yeah like, half a tea-spoon,” Beca said. “Do you want milk?”

“Please,” Chloe said, finding the cutlery drawer and adding instant coffee to both cups and sugar to Beca’s. Beca grabbed the milk out of the fridge and placed it on the counter. “Great teamwork.”

Beca laughed. “Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“Well that was adorable,” Chloe said, laughing as she added a splash of milk to her mug. “Milk?”

“No thanks,” Beca said, putting it back in the fridge.

Chloe picked up the two mugs and followed Beca back into the living room. Beca eased herself onto the sofa, and then picked up the note she’d left. She held it in her hands for a few seconds without unfolding it, before she crumpled it into a ball and tossed it towards a small waste paper bin near her desk.

It missed by several feet.

“Good shot,” Chloe said, laughing softly.

“Give me a break,” Beca said, laughing too. “Several parts of me are broken.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Chloe said, moving towards the crumbled ball of paper. She felt Beca’s hand close around her wrist.

“Please… Please don’t read that,” Beca said, the smile gone from her face, her voice quiet.

“I won’t,” Chloe said, softly. “I just don’t want you to have to bend over to pick it up later.”

Beca nodded and let Chloe’s arm go.

Chloe tossed the note into the trash, and returned to the sofa.

They drank their coffee and Chloe told her all about the animals she treated that day.

She could see Beca sinking further and further into the sofa, her grip on the mug beginning to slacken. The caffeine clearly couldn’t compete with the strong pain medication she’d taken once they’d sat down.

“Let me take that,” Chloe said softly, taking the mug out of her hands and setting it on the coffee table. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Beca said, laughing and rubbing at her eyes. “Sorry.”

Chloe cocked her head. “Why are you sorry?”

“I’m falling asleep in the middle of your story about… hamsters?”

“Gerbils,” Chloe said, grinning. “It wasn’t my most exciting story, I’ll admit.”

“No, it was great,” Beca said. “I’m just…”

“On a lot of pain meds?”

“Yeah.”

“And if this was any other day you’d be riveted by my story about gerbils?” Chloe asked.

“Of course,” Beca said, laughing. “I honestly think Universal will be on the phone trying to buy the movie rights.”

“Good to see the drugs aren’t affecting your sarcasm,” Chloe said grinning.

“My personality is like 80% sarcasm so that’s a good thing,” Beca said, feeling her eyes wanting to close again.

“You want some help getting to your room?”

Beca nodded, and Chloe helped her to her feet.

“You’re a really good person, Chloe,” Beca said, as Chloe helped her to her room and onto her bed.

Chloe smiled but shook her head. “I’m not that great. I have this thing where I run people over with my car. Do you wanna change into some pyjamas or something?”

“Oh, am I not your first victim?” Beca asked, grinning.

“No, you’re my first,” Chloe said. “But I think I’ve got a taste for it now, you know?” Beca laughed and winced. “Pyjamas?”

“Bottom drawer,” Beca said, her eyes momentarily screwed up as she waited for the pain to pass. When she opened them, Chloe was holding out some pyjamas for her, a look of concern on her face.

“I’m fine,” Beca said. “And anyway, it’s a good job you did hit me, remember?”

“I remember,” Chloe said, softly. She turned around so Beca could change. “Do you… Do you wanna talk about any of that?”

“Not right now,” Beca said, struggling to change without hurting herself more.

Chloe was itching to turn around and help, but she knew she had to let Beca ask for it. She had to draw a line somewhere.

“Can… Can you help?” Beca asked after a few minutes of struggling.

Chloe turned and helped Beca change.

“You should have been a doctor or something instead of a vet,” Beca mumbled as she lay down and Chloe pulled the blanket up so it covered her.

“I thought about it for a while,” Chloe said, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of Beca’s face.

“How come you didn’t?” Beca asked, closing her eyes at the contact.

“I get too attached to people,” Chloe said, softly. “Too involved. Harder to do that with animals.”

Beca didn’t reply because she’d already fallen asleep.

Chloe left a note on her bedside asking her to text her when she woke up, and to call if she needed anything.

She went into the kitchen and took some mugs, bowls, and plates that were all in the higher cupboards and placed them on the counter so Beca wouldn’t have to stretch up to reach them.

She then headed back to the living room to put on her coat and shoes, and her eyes fell on the small bin which contained Beca’s note.

Chloe wondered who it had been addressed to, if anyone.

She thought about what it might say, even though she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know.

She took a step towards it before remembering the look on Beca’s face when she asked her not to read it.

She left the apartment and pushed it from her mind. If Beca wanted her to know, she would tell her.

Beca: Hey, just woke up. Thanks again for helping me last night. Once I’m fully healed I’ll have to think of a way to repay you xx

Chloe: You could take me out for dinner? Or let me take you out for dinner? xx

Chloe: Either way, I want to eat dinner and I want you to be there xx

Beca: It’s a date xx

Beca: Did you move all my shit out of the cupboard so I didn’t have to reach to get it? xx

Chloe: Yeah, that’s okay right? xx

Beca: It’s like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you xx

Chloe: You’re welcome :) xx

Chloe: Morning sunshine, how are you feeling? xx

Chloe: It’s been a few hours, can you give me a text back so I know you’re okay? xx

Chloe: Bec, I’m freaking out, please answer my calls?

Chloe: I’m coming over.

Chloe was feeling sick with worry as she drove to Beca’s apartment. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Beca had seemed fine when Chloe left the night before, but it wasn’t like her to not text back or answer Chloe’s calls.

She’d been out of the hospital for a week now, and seemed to be doing a little better, physically, but she still hadn’t talked to Chloe about any of the other stuff going on with her.

The elevator ride seemed to last a lifetime, stopping on every floor to let people in and out.

When she finally made it to Beca’s door, her hands were shaking as she knocked.

“Beca?” She called, pressing her ear to the door to see if she could hear any sound of movement. “Beca, please open the door. I don’t know if you’re mad at me or what, but I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” If Beca could hear her, she didn’t answer. Beca had given her a spare key for emergencies, and although Chloe didn’t know if this constituted and emergency yet, she didn’t want to take the chance.

She unlocked the door and entered the apartment.

“Beca?”

Chloe could hear the sound of running water and followed it to where Beca’s bathroom was. She knocked on the bathroom door. “Beca?”

“C-Chloe? Chloe is that you?!”

“Can I come in?” Chloe asked, relieved to hear her voice, but terrified of the way it was shaking.

“P-please,” Beca said. “I n-need help.”

Chloe opened the bathroom door and found Beca in the bathtub, the shower on, spraying water everywhere, the shower curtain on top of her.

“I s-slipped,” Beca said, her teeth chattering.

“Oh my god,” Chloe said, rushing in and switching off the shower which was now freezing cold. “Jesus, Beca, how long have you been in here?”

“S-since this m-morning,” Beca said, shivering violently. “I c-couldn’t g-get up.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay, we’re gonna get you up and get you warm.”

“S-sorry,” Beca said.

“Shh, don’t be sorry,” Chloe replied. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I s-should have b-been more c-careful,” Beca said, watching as Chloe grabbed a towel. “It’s t-too f-fucking hard trying to shower w-with this th-thing on my a-arm.”

“It’s okay,” Chloe said. “I’m gonna move the shower curtain okay? And then I’m gonna cover you with the towel. I’ll try not to look.”

“‘K-kay.”

Chloe pulled the fallen shower curtain off Beca and wrapped her in a towel, trying to keep her eyes averted as best she could. Water had soaked the bathroom, so the clothes Beca had brought in with her were drenched.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Chloe said, crouching down to lift Beca out of the tub. “Put your arms around my neck. I’m gonna try and do this without hurting your ribs, but I apologise in advance if I do.”

“I-it’s ok-kay,” Beca said, putting her arms around Chloe’s neck. “T-too numb t-to f-feel anything a-anyway.”

Chloe placed an arm under Beca’s legs and one behind her back and lifted her up. Beca bit down on her lip hard as the pain in her ribs spiked. She was lighter than Chloe expected and Chloe could feel her trembling against her. She took her into the bedroom and gently lowered her to the bed.

“Th-thank you,” Beca said.

“Are you hurt?” Chloe asked, grabbing pyjamas out of the drawer.

“H-hard to t-tell,” Beca said. “Th-there’s a l-lot of pain but I d-don’t know if a-any of it is n-new.”

“Did you hit your head or anything when you slipped?”

“I d-don’t th-think so,” Beca said. “I s-sort of f-fell on my s-side. M-my arm t-took the b-brunt of it. E-everything else k-kinda l-locked up. I c-couldn’t m-move.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, tears burning her eyes. “It’s okay, you’re out now. Do you think you can put these on? I’m gonna make you a hot water bottle. You should eat something too. And take your meds.”

“N-not h-hungry,” Beca said. “I j-just w-wanna get w-warm and sleep.”

“You’ve been in there for hours, Becs,” Chloe said. “You have to eat something. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She grabbed Beca’s hot water bottle and headed for the kitchen. She made a grilled cheese while she waited for the kettle to boil, and tried to control her tears. She thought about what would have happened if she hadn’t come over to check on her. If she hadn’t been given a spare key. If she hadn’t offered to help Beca in the first place.

How long would she have been in there? Would her strength have come back to her eventually, or would she have stayed in there until someone found her? And who would have found her? The same person she left that note for?

Her thoughts were spiralling as she watched steam start to rise from the kettle, and the sound of it clicking off made her jump.

She filled the bottle and made Beca a mug of chamomile tea. She grabbed her meds, tucked the bottle under her arm, and carried the tea and grilled cheese through to Beca’s room.

“Here you go,” Chloe said, putting the tea and sandwich on her nightstand.

Beca had managed to change and had climbed into bed, her hands still shaking. She gratefully took the hot water bottle and wrapped her arms around it.

“How bad’s the pain?”

“B-bad,” Beca said. “A s-solid e-eight out of t-ten.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“N-no,” Beca said. “P-please. I j-just want to s-sleep.”

“Okay,” Chloe said with a sigh. “But you can’t take any painkillers unless you eat something first or you’ll get sick.”

Beca let out a small huff of resignation and picked up the plate with still shaking hands.

While she ate, Chloe went into the bathroom, re-attached the shower curtain, and cleaned up the mess.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Beca said, setting down the empty plate. She swallowed some painkillers with a mouthful of tea and settled further into the bed, warmth spreading through her chest.

“I know,” Chloe replied. She sat on the edge of Beca’s bed and pressed a hand to her face. It was still cold, but not as bad as it was before. The shivering had died down too.

“Thank you for coming to check on me,” Beca said, putting the half-empty cup on her nightstand. The meds were doing their work, and Beca could feel the pain easing off. “I don’t know how long I’d have been there if you hadn’t.”

“I’m just glad you gave me a key,” Chloe said, her hand now stroking through Beca’s slightly damp hair.

“That feels nice,” Beca mumbled, closing her eyes.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Beca,” Chloe said. “I was really scared when you didn’t reply to any of my texts. I… I really like you.”

Beca didn’t answer immediately, and Chloe assumed she’d fallen asleep. When she stood up to leave, she saw Beca’s hand reaching for her. Chloe took it and held it.

“Stay,” she mumbled, her eyes blinking open slowly. “Please. Please stay with me.”

“Of course,” Chloe said. She kicked off her shoes and lay down on the bed beside her, hoping this was what Beca meant.

Beca rolled over and cuddled into her as best as she could. “Is this okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, smiling as she put her arm around her. “More than okay.”

“I really like you too,” Beca said, before she relaxed into Chloe’s side and fell asleep.

Chloe: I’ve had a really bad day, can I come over? xx

Beca: Yeah of course. Just let yourself in when you get here xx

It was a few days after the shower incident and Beca had just about recovered from it. She’d started texting Chloe before she went in the shower, and as soon as she got out. They had a deal that if Chloe didn’t hear from Beca 45 minutes after going in the shower, Chloe would come check on her. Luckily that hadn’t happened yet. Just in case it did though, Beca had started timing her showers for when she knew Chloe was out of work. She really didn’t want to be in a situation again where she was either trapped in the bathtub or causing Chloe to get in trouble at work.

Around 20 minutes later, Beca heard the key in the lock and she looked up from her laptop screen to see Chloe letting herself in.

“Hey,” Beca said, shutting her laptop and putting it on the coffee table. “Are you okay?”

Chloe shook her head, her eyes red and tear filled, a smudge of mascara on the top of her cheek.

“Come sit down,” Beca said, a look of concern flooding her face. “Do you want tea or anything?”

“No,” Chloe said, sniffing and wiping her eyes as she dropped onto the sofa beside Beca. “Sorry. I’ve just had the worse day.”

“What happened?” Beca asked, wanting to comfort Chloe but not knowing how to.

“It was just… Just really sad. This old guy came in with his dog, this… this beautiful 12-year-old Labrador. He was just the sweetest boy,” Chloe said, her eyes filling with tears again. “He had a limp and this man just assumed he’d hurt his leg when he’d been running around the garden. I did an x-ray and it was a tumour. He had… He was full of them.”

“Oh no,” Beca said, softly.

“He… He thought everything would be fine. That his dog would get some meds or maybe a shot and then they’d take him home. He said he’d got the dog after his wife passed. He didn’t have any kids or relatives that were still alive. This dog was all he had and he… He had to say goodbye to him today.”

“That’s really sad, Chlo’,” Beca said, placing a hand on Chloe’s arm, rubbing up at down softly. “But I bet the dog had the best life with that guy. And even though it might not feel like it, you helped that dog. He isn’t in pain anymore because of you. He didn’t suffer.”

Chloe wiped her eyes again but new tears replaced the old ones almost immediately. “I know,” she said, trying to control her crying. “And I know I shouldn’t get so involved. But it just broke me. The thought of him losing his only companion. Of him going back to his home with just a leash instead of his best friend. Having to get rid of all the dog stuff. It’s killing me.”

“Come here,” Beca said, pulling Chloe into a hug. She didn’t know how Chloe did it. How she managed to feel for other people so deeply. How other people’s pain became her pain. How she carried it with her as if she was the one suffering. She didn’t know how she could stay as strong as she did.

She’d been friends with Chloe for a few weeks now, but this was the first time she’d seen her truly break down. It kinda scared her.

“I gave him my number,” Chloe said, once she’d managed to stop crying. “In case he needed someone to talk to or grab a coffee with.”

“Of course you did,” Beca said, laughing softly.

She wondered if that’s how Chloe saw her too. As just another unfortunate person who needed help. Not a friend, just someone she felt sorry for.

She tried to push that feeling away, but with her mental state being what it was, it lingered.

She tried to focus on the fact that Chloe had come to her for help this time. That their friendship wasn’t one-sided.

“Do you ever get tired?” Beca asked once their hug ended.

“Of what?”

“Of taking on everyone else’s emotions? Of feeling them so strongly?”

“Of course I do,” Chloe said, letting out a teary laugh. “Look at me, Beca. It’s part of my job to put animals down when they’re sick and dying, I do it every week, more than once a week usually, and I’ve been crying about this for hours. If there’s a way to… to dull these emotions, I don’t know how to do it. And I wouldn’t want to.”

“You wouldn’t?” Beca asked, tilting her head.

“No,” Chloe said. “These feelings… These connections, they… They make me want to help people. They make me want to be a better person. They helped me meet you.”

“I think your car helped you meet me,” Beca said, laughing lightly, ignoring the vicious voice in her head which whispered you’re just another one of her projects.

She doesn’t feel the same way about you as you do about her.

“Fair,” Chloe said laughing. “But if I didn’t have this… obsessive thing, I don’t know if I’d have fought so hard to meet you properly.”

“If you hadn’t felt sorry for me, you mean,” Beca said, the negative voice in her head getting louder.

Chloe frowned. “I didn’t say that. I didn’t want to meet you because I felt sorry for you. I wanted to meet you because I’d hit you with my car and I needed to apologise and see that you were okay. Becs, we’ve been through this.” Chloe took Beca’s hands and felt relieved when she didn’t pull away. “I’m not here because I feel sorry for you. You’re… You’re not like the other people I’ve wanted to help before. I like you, Beca. I really fucking like you.”

Beca sniffed slightly and tried not to look at Chloe. “I really like you too,” she said. “Sorry for… for being this way. You came here upset and I shouldn’t be questioning your motives all of the time. I just… I get paranoid. I can’t believe anyone as good as you would want to spend time with me because they enjoy my company.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Chloe said. “I just want you to believe me, Beca. I want you to trust me.”

“I’m trying,” Beca said with a strained laugh, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m really trying, Chlo’. But every other person in my life left as soon as I let down my guard. I don’t want that to happen with you. I don’t… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Chloe said, her hands moving to cup Beca’s face, thumbs sweeping across her cheeks to brush away the tears that fell. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But-”

“Beca,” Chloe said, cutting her off. “Look at me.” Beca did. Her eyes were full of fear and pain, preparing for rejection. She swallowed hard when she locked eyes with Chloe. Chloe’s eyes were full of a fierce determination. Chloe leaned forward so their foreheads pressed together, her hands were still cupping her face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Beca closed her eyes, letting more tears fall. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her breathing felt laboured. “I’m not good at this.”

“It’s okay,” Chloe said. “Open your eyes.” Again, Beca did, her chest still heaving. “Relax. Everything’s okay.”

Beca nodded and tried to control her breathing.

“Beca, are you having a panic attack?”

“No,” Beca said. “No, I’m fine. I just feel like I’m about to do something stupid.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Chloe asked, moving her head back slightly so she could look at Beca properly.

“Uh huh,” Beca said, her eyes dropping to Chloe’s lips. “I’m just nervous. I don’t want to screw this up."

Chloe smiled. “You won’t.”

Beca closed the gap between them, her eyes falling shut as her lips met Chloe’s.

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eisukevint · 3 years

Text

A Million Tears

Pairing: Ota/Mc

Genre: Angst

a/u: Ota’s ‘our prenuptial nightmare’ but it’s a different ending.

This one’s for you @kbtbbposts !!

. . .

Sometimes he’d cry himself to sleep. Other days there’d be a flash of red and he’d bolt right up from the horrendous nightmare he was seeing. The same everyday with the blood of his beloved and his unborn baby splattered every where. Sometimes he’d wonder how his life would’ve been if she wasn’t put up for auction on that fateful night but then he’d think where would he be if things didn’t go the way they did.

It’s my fault

He’d contemplate over that one sentiment over and over again. Hell he’d even considered ending his life. But the other bidders would talk him out of it.

Ota sat up in his bed, his honey blonde hair drenched with sweat sticking to his forehead from that same dream rather nightmare that he had to remind him how he fucked up.

“It’s my own fucking fault.” He muttered feeling the empty space beside him reminiscing how he’d lay down with his beloved after their intense love making.

Only if he hadn’t asked her to stay outside so he could buy her the bracelet she set her eye on in the window of the vintage shop. Then maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe that bitch Rin wouldn’t have been able kidnapped her. She and their thumper would’ve lived.

‘Why couldn’t it be me who was under the lighting fixture?’ He had asked himself countless times.

—

He was too late pushing them out of the way. Rin had already cut the wire. The fixture fell on his fiancée who was carrying their unborn child. His feet jammed to the spot. Mind blank and heart thumping out of his chest. Anyone but her. He kept on chanting in his mind like a motto. She was the only living light in his life. But he daren’t move to check. Because he was scared. Scared that he’ll find her warm pale skin cold to the touch. But the blood seeping out from underneath the fallen ceiling was deceiving his heart which he thought would stop. He didn’t even realise the stream of tears flowing from his eyes. He was glad that he’d informed the other bidders of his beloved’s kidnapping. Mamoru and Soryu dealt with Rin while Baba and Eisuke pulled Mc from underneath the wreckage. Baba checked her pulse but the heartbeat Ota used to drift off to sleep was no longer there. When Baba gave him a look of utter heartbreak he crumbled. He felt like his soul was being torn out of his body. He broke down. Cried his heart out into Baba’s shoulder who’s eyes skimmed with unshed tears. Even Eisuke and Soryu who were usually expressionless wore a face of absolute grief after all she was the only one who looked right through their facades. Who truly knew them for who they were. Rin took not only one but two lives and Ota swore to destroy her.

He didn’t want to attend her funeral. He couldn’t bear to see them lowering her down into the soil. But he had to. For their sake. Caught up in emotion he clung to her grave so much that they had to forcibly pull him away.

That day onwards when it finally sunk in that she was no more, he was filled with despair and anguish. The only emotions he’d feel was regret and agony. He hated it. He wanted to touch her so bad. Take her in his arms. Kiss her silky lips. Hear her say ‘welcome home’ in the cheeky way she did eveyday.

—

4:47 A.M

He got out of the bed which all of a sudden felt really big for a single person. Eyes wet, he made his way to the kitchen to sober up. He was chugging down crisp chilled water when his eyes caught the sight of the silver knives standing upside down on the shelf making him think dangerously.

‘Why don- why don’t I just end it all? I don’t even deserve to live. Maybe it’s the best way’ His thoughts were as clear as pellucid water as he grabbed the knife from the stand.

Baba was returning from a mission when he decided to check up on Ota. Thankfully he had the key to his suite. He did think that maybe he was sleeping but remembering the recurring nightmares he talked about once worried him so he went right in.

He decided to go straight to his bedroom but hearing clatter in the kitchen, he moved in that direction. His eyes widened in horror as he saw Ota with the silver placed on his wrist ready to slash down.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Baba immediately rushed towards him and slapped the knife out of his hand.

“Do you have the slightest idea of what you were doing?” He screamed while Ota moved back startled.

“I swear to god, we lost two of them, we can’t bear to lose you too!” Ota was surprised beyond belief. He honestly didn’t think he’d care this much.

“But Baba, I don’t- I didn’t know what to do. They didn’t fucking deserve to die. She had a problem with me! Why did she take it out on them instead of me?! I want to blame Rin but I know it’s my fault too. I couldn’t even give her a proper wedding. I lost my chance to legally call her my wife. And thumper. I’ll never forgive myself. She was bringing a joy into this world. And I lost that joy. I couldn’t protect them. I feel like I don’t have the right to live!” His body raked with sobs as he sank to the floor. Baba following suit.

“It’s not your fault Ota. Stop blaming yourself. It was all Rin. And she payed back for what she did. Every single thing. Look at yourself. Do you think she would be happy seeing you like this? With you taking your life? And she wouldn’t blame you too because she loves you. She knows how kind you are deep down. And just so you know we’re all sad too. We loved her very much.” Baba rubbed Ota’s back while he let it all out.

“Thank you Baba. Really. For everything.”

“Oh well. Big brother baba helps everyone. Now come on. Get up. Get some sleep. I’ll be out in the lounge if you need me. Sounds good?” Baba asked to which Ota nodded. It was moments like these when Baba was more like a big brother to him. But with his help and the other auction managers, he managed to live through it.

He’d visit their graves every week twice. Took one of the guys with him sometimes. It would take a lot of time to get used to her not being around. But no one could ever take her place. She was the only he ever truly loved and he’ll forever cherish her till he met her again in another lifetime.

. . .

(I wasn’t really that familiar with Ota’s route bec i’ve only read his season one, five and six. But I know all about his personality. But there ya go I completed your request :)) Hope you like it!)

#ota kisaki #mitsunari baba #soryu oh #eisuke ichinomiya #mamoru kishi #kbtbb ota #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #voltage inc #love 365 #otome #otome romance

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whathappenedtomyweekend · 3 years

Text

Rose’s Christmas Carol (Part I)

"It will get easier over time," they said. "Time heals many wounds," they said.

No, it doesn't, if it gets hurt, it collapses and takes everything with it, Rose thought bitterly and took the bend to her parents' house. As much as she loved them, she'd rather been alone today. Maybe go to work tomorrow. Anything to distract her from Christmas and - most of all - remembering. "Oh no, I'm not lettin' you mope around in your flat, all by yourself, on Christmas!" Jackie had said sternly, thinking she'd do her daughter a favour. Rose had given in at the end, tired of fighting back.

But how was her Mum to know that being with her on Christmas would hurt more than being alone? How was she to know that Rose felt ashamed to be with her family, after she'd been so ready to leave them behind? She couldn't know what Rose had told the Doctor after she'd crossed over and how sure she had been.

Still, he was gone. Another evening, another day, another night without him. Rose stopped her car and leaned her head against the steering-wheel for a moment, exhaling slowly, gathering herself. The radio was playing "Last Christmas" again. Rose huffed. "Last Christmas I gave you my heart," George Michael sang. "The very next day, you gave it away."

Last Christmas, she thought, I woke up crying and catatonically sat in mum's kitchen two days straight. Rose ignored the tears gathering in her eyes.

'You saw me. I changed, right in front of you ...'

No. Not again. With a bit-back sob, Rose pushed herself back and gathered her things in a sudden rush of newfound angry energy and dragged herself out into the cold along the frontyard. Her feeble fingers pressed the doorbell. "Hello?" "Dad, it's me!"

'Every single cell in my body. But ... I'm still me.'

Rose shook her head, as if she could get rid of his voice, wondering if it would ever stop. The door opened and Rose tried not to think about the other failed launch of the dimension cannon. She let Pete hug her and for a moment, she didn't manage to hide her emotions behind a smile. Her father laid a hand on her shoulder and smiled sympathetically, almost apologetic. He'd been there when the launch had failed for the umpteenth time, he'd been the one to drag her out when, in a moment of one of her rare breakdowns because the frustration and grief and exhaustion took over, she had been weeping and hitting and screaming soundlessly.

Rose gathered up a tight smile at her Dad and then pushed through the door into the living room. "Rosie!", the voice of a child squealed and Rose couldn't help but crack a smile when she gathered her little brother in her arms. "Hey, Tony," she crooned softly and stroked his curly-haired head. "You okay? Did you and Mummy decorate the tree yet?" "Mummy said wait on you, Rosie!", Tony replied happily. "'m helped choosing the tree!" Rose's eyes flickered over to the tree, boxes set beside it.

'Remote control. But who's controlling it?'

"Oh, did you? Well, you did a brilliant job, it's beautiful! Best tree I've ever seen!" Rose praised and Tony giggled when she threw him up in the air a little. His little arms clung around her neck when he came down again. "So, you wanna get started?" "Yeah!" Tony exclaimed and wobbled away when his sister let him down again.

"Let's just call Mummy and then we'll -"

Rose broke off when she suddenly faced her mother who stood in the door of the kitchen, a wooden spoon still in her hand. Rose knew she'd insist on cooking herself for Christmas and that she'd given the entire staff off for the holidays. She didn't even have time to do anything and Jackie wrapped her arms around her daughter with a soft call of her name. "Thank you," she whispered into her ear, just loud enough for Rose too hear and the young woman swallowed the lump in her throat as she pulled back. Jackie smiled and took a step back, taking in Rose's tired, dull eyes and the attempt to hide the bags under her eyes with make-up, her pale skin and the harshness of her once so soft lips. Rose tried to ignore the flash of pity and sadness in her mother's eyes when she said quickly: "You look good, Rose."

'First things first ... be honest. How do I look?'

Rose lowered her head. "Thanks."

'Good different or bad different?'

Her eyes swam back into focus when Tony tugged her sleeve. "Rosie, can we start?" She forced a grin on her lips. "Sure." Quietly, just for herself, she whispered: "Allons-y."

Jackie's gaze had barely left Rose's face the whole evening. Eyeing her carefully, she caught her daughter throw a quick glance at the door for the twentyfirst time. Rose seemed restless, looking at the door every now and then, as if she was waiting for something. Jackie could only have a faint guess and sadly pushed the thought away.

Just over a year had passed now and still, Rose hadn’t let go of what had happened. Pete kept telling his wife about the launches and Jackie knew about Rose's latest "breakdown", he'd called it. She thought these had been over; she knew it still was bad but she didn't know it was that bad. Not even a year had gone by, after all. She hadn't expected her daughter to move on quickly and would, honestly have been rather worried if she'd found her daughter back at her old self in just a few months.

But still, there was this constant layer of sadness in her eyes, deep down. Past the fake smile and the concealed dark circles under her eyes and the bright red lipstick she was wearing now. Under that mask, it was easy to see: the grief, exhaustion. The weariness. Rose looked drained. Depressed. Empty. The longer Jackie looked at her, the more she couldn't help but think that maybe Rose would never really heal. Because maybe her Rose, the old Rose Tyler, had stayed on the other side. Behind the void, in the TARDIS, with the Doctor.

Rose perked up when she heard the rattle of porcelain and quickly jumped up. "Oh, Mum, let me."

Jackie smiled. "Thanks. Be a dear and get some more potatoes."

"Sure, hang on a mo'." Rose got up, took the bowl and made her way into the kitchen, a warm smell of turkey still in the air.

'Back to your Mum. It's all waiting: fish and chips, sausages and mash, beans on toast - no, Christmas, turkey!'

Rose set the bowl on the counter, sighing. Quickly, she scanned the cooking plate in search for the mashed potatoes - when something suddenly caught her eyes' attention. A round plate, covered by an aluminium layer. "Oh, and I think we're ready for the nut loaf, too!", her Mum called from the dining table and Rose tried not to fall apart as she made her way through the kitchen towards the door, still staring down on the plate she held in her trembling hands.

'Although ... having met your mother ... nut loaf would be more appropriate.'

The plate slid out of her hands and crashed on the cold tiles. And that was when Rose gave up. That was when she just couldn't take it anymore, the moment she let the tears run freely down her cheeks. She barely even felt the shattered pieces of porcelain and crumbles of loaf around her when she slowly sank down, clutching the wood of the door frame. That was how Jackie found her seconds later when she heard the crash. Rose sat on the floor, sobbing violently, her face screwed up as she constantly whispered a single word she felt like drowning.

"Oh God, Rose!"

'Rose Tyler-'

The voice of her mother was mixing with the one in her head and it made her crumble. Rose felt hands drag her up and she curled up on the floor, wanting nothing more than to just lie there and cry herself out. Jackie crouched down next to her and after a while she managed to pull Rose into her arms and then Rose clung to her like a drowning man to a lifesaver. "Rose ... Rose, what's wrong? Rose ..." Rose opened her mouth to talk, but no sound came out, no word of how tired she was and how much she missed him and that she wished she could just leave. She let herself be picked up and led to the living room where she was sat down, still weeping because everything was missing and she felt so out of place.

Nobody touched her in ten minutes. Jackie shook her head when Tony wanted to run to his sister and picked him up in her arms. "What's wrong with Rose, Mummy?" "She just ... she just misses her friend, sweetheart," Jackie replied softly and Tony asked if she meant the Doctor but broke off when Rose let out a whimper at the mention of his name and hid her face in her hands. He'd never seen his sister cry. It was not until five minutes later that Rose had calmed down to a level she could talk. She looked up at Jackie with red, tear - stained eyes and whispered:

"I ... I ..." "What, sweetheart, what is it?"

Jackie sat down next to her and Rose clasped her hands in front of her mouth, holding back a sob.

"I miss him, I m-miss him so much." Jackie looked at her daughter and felt her heart break.

"I know, sweetheart, me too," She pulled her into her arms. "Me too ..." Rose let herself be held and hid herself in the warmth of her mother's arms and finally gave in. And then all the words suddenly started flowing out of her mouth, unstoppable now and she wasn't able to take them back or hold them in.

"I just keep waiting, I keep thinking he'll burst through that door any second, I, I keep w-waiting for him to walk in bec .. because he promised, he," She drew a deep shaking breath, the tears still hadn't stopped and another sob escaped her when she pulled out her her mother's arms, her own arms helplessly by her side.

"He said he'd be here," Rose whispered then, half sobbing. "He said he-" She broke off and wiped her eyes but it only left her eyes stinging.

"And nothing works, nothing ever works, I've been trying for - for months I've been trying to get back to him, but it doesn't ... and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry because I keep hurting you, I tried to be okay, I really did, but it, I can't, can't ... be ..." "I know, Rose, I know,", Jackie said softly and took her hand but Rose slipped hers out of her grip.

"It's okay," Jackie's voice, too, was trembling but she continued: "It's okay to be heartbroken and no one expects you to be just back to normal, sweetheart. It’s okay to feel like this, I promise. It’s okay." Rose said nothing and just sat there, crying quietly, staring into space. Time, she thought, that's the problem.

Much later, hours after the dinner and after Tony had been brought to bed, Rose still sat on the couch in the living room. It was way after midnight and the radio started to annoy her but she just couldn't be bothered to get up; also because she feared her legs would give up on the Rose sat alone, listening to 'Merry Christmas' for the fourth time.

She hated it. Oh, how she hated Christmas. " ... and a happy new year!"

But it was never a new year, not ever a new new year, ever again. It was just another year, another year without him.

Rose knew nights like these. Nights like these, when she'd sat alone in the tiny kitchen of her new flat between the still uppacked boxes and reconsidered her resolution not to drink. The nights she remembered she had forgotten her important meeting at work. The nights she cried herself to sleep because she missed her life and just couldn't fix this gaping hole inside of her. The nights she spent on her computer looking up flights to places she'd never go because she needed to leave but also couldn't do it without him. Nights where she felt like drowning and like the walls of her flat seemed to move in closer and closer until they crushed her between them. But most of all, the nights that were just so bloody lonely.

She wondered how she could feel so lonely just because of missing one person. Rose thought of the Doctor and wanted to cry, but her eyes stayed dry. She hoped with all her heart he was better. Better than her and not falling back into his darkness. She thought of the picture she imagined every day, every time she launched another test, the Doctor sitting alone in the TARDIS, his brown eyes dull and empty, face unmoved. Lonely. She didn't want that, she never wanted him to be lonely.

Rose felt her heart skip a beat when she started up out of all sudden. Everything was absolutely silent. The radio had stopped. Finally, her first thought, then: Why's that? Slowly, Rose got up. Indeed, the screen of the radio was dark and empty. And then another noise started. The one sound in the whole universe she had yearned for. Tearing her apart, ripping her soul in half - with a gasp, she stumbled back and her hands gripped the edge of the table. For a moment her heart stopped. It couldn't be. Part of her was aching to take a second look, the other part of her didn't want to because she feared it might have been another daydream of her, the trick of an eye and the melody of her lonely heart playing the wooshing sounds of her home in the back of her mind. Finally, Rose forced herself to look into the darkness a second time.

There, in the dark backyard of the Tyler manison stood the TARDIS.

Rose froze, her heart beating faster than ever before, throwing itself against her ribcage as if it wanted to flee. But she couldn't be sure until she had touched it, until she hadn't been inside of - "Rose?" a voice - oh, how she wished this wasn't a dream because this was all it could be - called behind her. Rose turned around, almost sure to see nothing because it was another nightmare after all and she was so angry at her own memory for giving her such an accurate imitation of his voice. She tried to fight the urge to cry when she saw the tall, slim figure stand in the door, pinstripes and all. Her heart stopped as it was torn apart and then she started crying and her legs took a stumbling step forward, then another, another, yet another and by the time she reached him she had thrown every care away. It had to be real. This time it was.

Doctor. Oh, my Doctor. And then, Rose Tyler stopped in front of the Doctor.

#reposting this here bc why not i'm feeling sappy #doctor who #dw #tenxrose #tenrose #mine #part I #romance #the ANGST pls i was so angsty omg #i wrote this like......5 years ago omg #doesn't seem that long ago reading it tho

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