#the way they sit and their little paws and beans and floppy ears-

[kollector-of-stims]

So I got the green TY beanie belly bunny Peridot and completed the trio! Wooooo!! They're so CUTE AND LOOK LOOK LOVELY. Like absolute dears.💙💚💜 (renamed now: Purple is Penchant, Blue is Parcel, Green is Posey)

And with easter month approaching, and remembering that Erina is a beanie baby too (Rachel the Lamb, Ty Attic Treasures) so they all are AWAITING APRIILLL!

Keep up good cheer, my friends, time can fly!

[angeli-marco-writes]

Harrison Osterfield - A Happy Day (& A Puppy)

A/N & WC - I don't know Haz, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction. 3.2k

Warnings - Mentions of a dog rescue centre and poorly dogs, slight anxiety, copious amounts of fluff.

Summary - Today is the day you and Haz get a puppy. It's the next big step in your relationship, and despite your anxieties, you know it's a happy day.

YOUR HEART FILLS WITH GLEE at the prospect of the day. You and your boyfriend, Harrison, have been together for a long time now, by ‘young people’ standards, and have recently taken the giant step of moving in together. Only, after you lived in a flat with various different people for a long time, and after he spent so long in a house with three other blokes (where you also spent a substantial share of your time earlier in the relationship, much to your dismay,) it’s quiet with just the two of you. And not the good quiet, though sometimes it’s nice and peaceful. You’re just both so accustomed to the constant bustle of people. And the only comprisable solution you could come up with, save for moving back in with Haz’s old housemates? Get a dog.

Obviously you want to, you love dogs, but it’s also a bridge to your future.

“Are you ready to go sweetheart?” Haz shouts from the doorway, rustling with his coat, while you’re still in the bedroom.

“Do we have to?” you beg.

“Yeah we do. You want this dog, don’t you?”

“Of course I do... it’s the rest I’m anxious about.”

See, you’ve been conversing with a shelter home for some weeks now, ever since they got an influx of puppies. A big litter of little blighters, separated from their mother and left to die on the side of the road in a damp cardboard box. Thankfully, and by some kind of God-given miracle, they all survived, and many have already been adopted, but your little treasure? You were the only takers. Not that you’re complaining, obviously.

Haz appears in the doorway, his own pea coat fitted to his form perfectly, tailored and tan to suit his complexion. He holds yours out to you and edges closer to your shared bed, made and done up by him.

“I know, baby, but it’s gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You loose a sigh. “Is there any way we can go in the back way?”

Your own puppy eyes convince him and he kisses you. “I’ll see what I can do. If not, just close your eyes and I’ll lead the way.”

Shelters upset you immensely. How anyone could hurt a dog or abandon it is beyond you, they’re the most precious things ever and need to be protected and adored at all costs. You knew you wanted a rescue dog from the get go, but you’d never be able to bring yourself to actually scour shelters to look for a dog. You just hope this one likes you, or else Haz is gonna have to do it all himself. You can’t face the pleading faces and the imploring eyes and the sadness around the whole place. If you could, you’d buy them all, give them a good, loving home, but you can’t, and that harsh reality leaves a pit in your stomach and a hole in your heart.

“Don’t cry darling.” he coos, kissing your tears away with tender brushes of his lips.

You hadn’t even realised you were crying. How emotional can you be? Today is supposed to be happy, but you’re breaking at the first hurdle. To make the pressures worse, you know that, if you don’t take this little bean, it’ll be put down.

“Come on, it’s a happy day,” he prompts once he realises you’re no longer crying. He stands, shrugs your coat onto you, and pulls you to standing, wrapping his arms around your torso as he sways. “We’re getting a puppy!”

His sheer excitement in his voice brings joy to you too, any doubt being left behind as you sway with hum, holding him close. You’re getting a puppy.

A little more pep is in your step once you stand up, ensuring your hands are adjoined the whole time. Concealing your nerves with excitement is a solid step, so you paint on a happier face than before and clutch him close as you tug him to the front door.

“We’re really doing it, we’re getting a puppy,” you say.

He nods, keying the door open, “That we are. Think we’re ready?”

You almost howl laughing. In many ways, yes. You’re mature people in a committed relationship, you’re both incredibly responsible in all the ways that matter, and know when you need to take the next step or hold back. Getting a puppy is a huge leap, though. But you’ve thought about it, planned for it, prayed for it to work, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be ready, but it feels like a giant step. In the right direction. That’s all that matters; that, and the fact you’ll love this puppy endlessly.

“Y’know what? Yes. We’ve worked for this.”

“That we have, darling.”

Reaching the car, he places a kiss to the crown of your head. “Conserve your energy, honey. How about I drive?”

“Okay,” you answer, pecking Haz on the lips after he opens your door for you and hovers at your height until you answer him. “That means I can cuddle it on the way home.”

“It’s not an ‘it’, remember?” he chides, but the excitement is evident in his tone and the sparkle in his eyes, “we gave it a name.”

“Bixby, and he’s a boy, I know. How long is the drive?”

You fasten your seatbelt, smiling at him as he limbers into the drivers side. He’s attuned to your subtle mood shifts now, and realises that you’re slipping more from anxiety into anticipation, and he needs to work to keep you there, soothe you so that you don’t cry at the shelter. He’s a gem is Harrison, and you know he’ll be a brilliant dog-dad. It’s a huge part of why you’ve lasted so long together. The second you saw him with Monty, you knew he was a keeper.

After strapping his own seatbelt and manoeuvring the car into gear, he reaches over and curls his fingers around your thigh, pulling on that invisible connection between you, tugging you to look at him.

When you do, he spies that your current happiness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but is in part a façade. Haz loves you, but you’re the damn most sensitive soul he’s ever come across, especially when it comes to animals. The main reason the two of you got your own place was because living with people you weren’t close to took a real toll on you, as it did him—no matter how reluctant he is to admit it, the forced intimacy of it all, so this puppy is a big step to comfort you both and help you settle down to this new walk of life.

Of course the delight is there, of course you’re happy, but your slight snags and worries are visible to him too. “Love you, baby,” he whispers, leaning over to lock your lips together, applying a certain pressure, sucking on your lower lip gently as his hold on your thigh increases.

Once he pulls away, he sees the true you, calm gracing all of your beautiful features so nicely, happiness in your eyes and a wry smile on your lips, no overt anticipation of any kind.

“You can choose the music, yeah?” is all he says, offering you the twitch of a smirk before he’s locking the key into the ignition and you’re off.

You nod, whether he sees it or not, and plug your phone into the radio, allowing yours and Haz’s playlist to stream through the speakers, the melodies wrapping you in their embrace the whole journey.

One thing Haz has learnt through his time with you is that his touch grounds you. No matter what it is, as long as he’s touching you, you’re okay, your breathing regulated, your nervous habits quieted. And though you’ve never outwardly confessed it, his comfort has helped you more times than you’d ever care to admit aloud. He knows this, but no one else needs to.

Once you park up, Harrison leans over to kiss you again, more gently this time. “I’m gonna ask if there’s a way we can get you around the back, okay? Don’t want you getting upset on such a happy day.”

“Thanks babe.”

You peck his lips, but tug away almost instantly, afraid if you don’t, you’ll be here a while. He smiles, and shuts the door behind him, tapping on your window and pulling a silly face as he passes your side of the car. You wait patiently, scribbling down a list off the top of your head of things to buy for the pup. Basket, bowls, toys, mat, brush, collar, lead… you’ve already got a lot of Monty’s old things, puppy baskets he outgrew, his old crate and such like, but you’re adamant that Bixby needs a basket in every room of your place… just in case.

“Hey dreamer,” Haz’s voice snaps you from your reverie, that cute nickname he uses when you drift off into your own little world easing a smile onto your face. “He’s waiting for us, you can come in now.”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and peek over your shoulder to the little puppy holder in the back one last time, filled with a blanket and a cuddly toy. Completely unnecessary, since you plan on holding him, but Haz thought it’d be a good idea nonetheless.

He holds your hand as you tread out of the car, and the whole way into the building, and you’re glad to find a member of staff waiting to greet you with a warm handshake by the back door, happily guiding you inside to the office, more than likely. And there he is, with his big floppy ears and his droopy eyes, sitting on the chair inquisitively, looking like the prince of the palace.

“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous!” you cry, and with little reluctance, you tug away from Haz, bounding over to the puppy.

You know how startled they can get, so you ensure to stop at a safe distance, tentatively holding out your hand for the pupper to let his black nose sniffle at you, before his long pink tongue laps out and licks your hand heartily, a doggy smile breaking across his face as he pants.

“He likes me. Haz, look, he likes me!”

He chuckles, “I can see that, sweetheart.”

You firstly pat at the chestnut-dappled white fur between his ears, stroking his silken fur, before moving down his body, scruffing a little at the rolls of fat there, completely natural for a basset hound-mix. His paws are huge, though, for such a tiny dog, especially considering his stumpy legs.

“Okay, should we settle down and talk about paperwork?” says the kind lady, a completely rhetorical question.

“Come on baby, if we want Bixby to come home with us, we need to fill these forms in, yeah?”

“Yeah babe.” you nod, and glance at the only remaining available chair. “Well, Bixby, it looks like I’ll just have to pick you up. How about that?” you coo.

His tiny tail wags enthusiastically, and he slobbers another kiss to your hand, so you cautiously scoop him up and settle him on your lap once you’ve sat down.

“First of all, we need to remind you that Bixby is the... runt of the litter, and has more significant health issues than other puppies of his breed, requiring more care, including a limp and slight hearing loss in one ear, and he is small for his breed.”

“We know,” you and Harrison answer simultaneously, his one hand occupied with stroking Bixby also.

He’s dealt with business thus far, bringing Bixby blankets from the house to get him used to your scent, meeting him and meeting with the managers, filling out your application forms, making visits to the shelter. It was actually quite a miracle that you were allowed to get a puppy from here, since you both work, but due to Harrison’s schedule as an actor with press and such, he works from and near home a lot, and whenever he’s working away, despite your own job requirements, you’re able to work from home to hold the fort down. So it worked out okay. And with the compromise, they said you met the necessary guidelines to qualify for adoption with one of you almost always at home.

“And he costs £250, but he’s already been vaccinated and microchipped.” she says. You both nod; you’ve already discussed donating a hearty amount to the shelter to keep it afloat, and because Bixby should be worth a damn lot more.

For the rest of the meeting, you zone out rather a lot, only paying attention when you have to sign papers or a cheque, the rest of the time tickling and fussing your new bundle of joy, already so relaxed within your lap. The time seems to whizz by, as before you know it, you’re clambering back into the car, a towel sat over your lap, and Bixby licking happily at your cheeks.

“You know, I showed him a picture of you,” Haz says, smiling wistfully, “the first time I came to visit him. I told him you were my wife and his mum—” he trails off, and darts his eyes to yours, realising what he just blurted out with a dry mouth and knitted brows. “Baby, I didn’t mean—”

“You want to marry me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a broken whisper.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. One day you’re gonna be my wife, and Bixby can be the ring bearer, and everything will work out the way it should, and you won’t be sad anymore.”

“What makes you think I’m sad, babe?”

He raises his thumb to your cheek, capturing a tear before it falls. Again. He’s been stuck doing this a lot.

“Point taken, but for once these are happy tears. I’m just overly sensitive with… everything, but I promise I’m not sad.” Never with Haz, you think. You look down at the puppy, now half asleep, contentedly wagging his tail at a leisurely pace atop your thighs. “This is a happy day, isn’t it?”

“So happy, y/n. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, so much.”

He smiles, and slowly pulls out of the parking spot, ensuring to drive extra carefully, avoiding even the smallest of potholes on your journey. You keep one eye firmly on Bixby the whole time, but let the other roam your gorgeous boyfriend; the breadth of his shoulders, the veins in his hands, the intricate details in his blue orbs…

“Stop staring,” he whispers, “I can’t focus when you’re looking so pretty.”

You feel yourself flush, and turn your attention back to Bixby wholly, listening to your music as you quietly say, “I’m sorry.”

He says nothing more, but holds your hand over the gear stick the rest of the way.

*

You get a lot of attention in the pet store, carrying around a half asleep puppy with floppy ears the size of your entire face, meaning that your supposedly swift visit is elongated, but you survive, and are packed into the car shortly with everything you needed and more. A few people wanted to take a picture of Bixby, actually, having never seen a puppy basset hound in real life. You let them, leisurely trailing after Harrison as he got everything on your list, only purchasing if it passed Bixby’s sniff test.

Arriving home for the first time as a three is what makes everything seem so real, your heart overflowing with joy as you get out of the car, and walk to your door, and unlock it…

The first patter of paws on your wooden floor lets you know that this is home now, for all of you, as a family. That much is intrinsic.

“We did it. We got a puppy,” you say to Harrison, placing your hand over his chest where his heart steadily beats at a slightly faster pace.

“And we’re going to love him with everything we have.” he responds, kissing you softly, meaningfully, letting only love fill your embrace.

The skitter of Bixby’s claws coming towards you soon brings you back, though, and you begin to introduce him around the house, never once letting go of Haz’s hand. You show him the living room, where a blanket is already laid out on a sofa cushion for him to join you, and then the kitchen where his food bowls and water are, as well as his exit to the garden, and then to your bedroom, where the fluffiest basket you’ve ever seen sits in the corner, covered with swathes of blankets and scattered with toys. Treats already cover the floor all over your home, puppy training pads laid out just in case, and a hook by the front door with a blue lead dangling off it, as well as a tiny coat. Only…

“I didn’t buy this.” you say, spinning to face Haz, Bixby gnawing at his socks, rolling around at your feet.

You point towards the sturdy hook, embellished, engraved with two words. ‘Bixby Osterfield.’

“No, I did. I thought it was a nice surprise for you.”

He answers you as though it’s the most blatant thing in the universe. And really, it is something relatively small, but so thoughtful at the same time, so you open your arms wide, and nuzzle into him.

“Thank you, Haz. For everything. For this, for today, for loving me, for buying me Chinese takeout tonight.”

A laugh rips from him, his face breaking out into a wide smile, raising one hand to clutch at his chest while the other still securely encircles your waist.

“You’re more than welcome, babe. I’ll always love you. But I'm knackered.”

“Oh my God, same,” you breathe, slumping a little into him as you tickle the dog with your toes. “Who knew playing with a puppy would be so tiring?”

A low chuckle resonates from him, but he just holds you tighter, bending down to pick Bixby up as you trail over to the sofa, Haz’s footsteps silent on the glossy parquet floor of your home.

*

It doesn’t take long for you to get settled down, contentment filling you both, alongside ample Chinese food servings, and a fair amount of exhaustion too. Bixby has been with you the whole time, and while Haz sat down first, tugging you into his lap, legs spread wide as he lounged against the cushions a moment later, he ensured to position himself accurately on the ‘L’ shape of your sofa, so you could both reach the tiny snoozing puppy who curled into your side without a second thought.

“I’m glad we got a puppy,” you whisper into the darkness.

Night has come, the day having slipped away, and the movie you had playing is close to rolling its credits. You didn’t close your curtains but instead decided to watch the sun set and the star sparkle in the onyx sky, a stark contrast of beautiful silver, the light mirroring that that Bixby has brought into your lives.

“I am too, babe,” he replies, his nose burying into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, gently kissing your exposed skin, “how about we just settle here tonight?”

“Hmm, good plan,” is all you can muster, already feeling the tug of sleep, one hand on Bixby’s soft silken fur, the other holding Haz’s hand.

This is it, you think to yourself as you drift off, this is your family. Haz and Bixby, both of them snuggling into you, keeping you tethered, bringing you sheer joy. A happy day. All because you got a puppy.

[alonelytinywriter]

Dark Shadows

Yandere! Ex-Villain! Present Mic / Yandere! Ex-Villain! Eraserhead / Original Female Character

Warnings: Lemon-ish (mentioned), Self-Harm mentions (nothing described, just heavily implied), strong language, kidnapping, mentions of pretty typical yandere stuff. Ye Have Been Warned. 

Playlist ~ Chillhop Radio

Name: Oshima Mia ~ Birthday: January 3rd ~ Age: 24 ~ Hair Color: Black ~ Eye Color: Rose Gold ~ Gender: Female ~ Height: 5′2′’ ~ Quirk: Feline ~ Occupation: Bartender

Appearance: Mia is a small, fair-skinned girl. She has rose-gold eyes with full, dark lashes, and a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her canine teeth are more pronounced and that, along with the full pointed ears and long, thick tail the grows from the base of her spine, are not the only aspects of her Quirk that manifest physically, although they are the most noticeable. Her hair, like her ears and tail, is black and typically styled into twin messy buns, braids, ponytails, or the like. She rarely wears her hair down, as she doesn’t like to fool with it. ~ Mia’s causal outfits normally consist of shorts or jeans, simple t-shirts, and comfortable flat shoes, although while working as a bartender, she amassed a collection of short skirts, shirts with too-low necklines, and dresses that where barely there. Whatever helps bring in those sweet, sweet tips at the end of the night. 

Quirk: Feline ~ Mia’s Quirk causes her body to possess many characteristics akin to a feline, such as retractable claws, paws on the surface of her hands, and her spine growing differently, resulting in her developing a flexible vertebrae with elastic cushioning on the disks and a much longer rotation along the spine, much like a cat itself. Despite all this, her Quirk never really leaned toward the Hero side of the spectrum, and she therefore decided to explore other career options, leading her to take a job as a bartender. ~ Power - 1/5 ~ Speed - 2/5 ~ Technique - 3/5 ~ Intelligence - 3/5 ~ Cooperativeness - 4/5 

~ Dark Shadows ~ 

~ The entryway to the club was like trying to walk through a wall of sound, and the inside was filled with dry-ice smoke, colored lights, and slender limbs that appeared and disappeared inside the churning smog as the patrons danced. Hizashi and Shouta had only just stepped past the bouncer when Hizashi’s eyes were drawn to the bar and he stared. She was beautiful - hair nearly the precise color of black India ink and piled atop her head in a pair of messy twin buns, liner smudged around her eyes thickly, lips painted red as blood from an open wound, and skin so pale it nearly glowed. She wore a knee length black dress that clung to her curves in the most delicious ways, a scrap of silk and lace that accented her cleavage (although there wasn’t much to show) and showed her legs (which seemed to go on for miles, despite her height), while covering her arms. And a body harness that encircled her waist, chest and neck added a wildly dark aspect to her outfit that fit the club perfectly. 

~ It wouldn’t be any of this, however, that would draw Shouta’s attention. It would be the two pointed cat ears that flicked impatiently atop her head, the tail that curled and uncurled in time with the music, her slitted pupils which widened slightly as she glanced over the crowd. Someone sauntered to the bar, leaned forward, and said something so funny that the bartender threw her head back and laughed - a sound like resonated through the club like a beacon, light and clear and 100% female - and her canine teeth glinted sharply in the dim light. She was a heteromorphic feline, and it was noticeable. 

~ Twelve minutes. It took Shouta exactly twelve minutes to case out the bar, for Hizashi to approach and make first contact, for Shouta to order the first drink. In that twelve minutes the two ex villains realize two things - One: The girl was clearly anxious around them both. Two: She didn’t recognize either of the ex-villains . . . or she didn’t care. There was fear in her eyes, that much was true, but it wasn’t directed towards them. It seemed more broad than that - the sounds, the lights, the bodies pressed against one another. Whenever a patron would lean in to closely the girl would pull back, ears flattening against her head as she frowned minutely. If the second bartender behind the counter brushed against her reaching for a bottle of liqueur, the girl violently flinched. 

~ Her voice was smooth as she spoke to them when they took their seats, and both ex-Villains noted how her cheeks dusted brightly with a rosy tint as she took their order, how the blush deepened when they complemented her as she poured the two shots into the rainbow hued glasses before them. It was adorable. The way she pouted when she couldn’t reach a bottle she needed. How her cheeks puffed out when a extremely large, extremely drunk male ordered the same drink, for the fifteenth time in a row, her breath whistling between her lips, alerting the bouncers standing near the door that the man had clearly reached his limits. How she hissed at the man who was brazen enough to reach out and stroke his hand along one of her ears. She slapped the man, and Shouta was the one to notice the pink and black dappled pads along her hand that oh-so-closely resembled a cats’ paws. They talked of nothing but the girl when she attended to the other patrons, and when she stood before them, all doe eyes and blushing cheeks, the two had a hard time hiding their attractions. 

~ They want nothing more than to kidnap her then, as she walks home from her shift at the bar as the sun rises, but as Hizashi stares at her small form he worries that she may not like either of them very much if they do so and after several quite moments of deliberations, Shouta agrees. Instead they follow their darling from the bar to a bus stop, and from the bus stop to her home, which is nothing more than a small apartment settled above a flower shop that smelled, of all things, peaches and wine. They couldn’t see into the apartment, due to its location on a main road, and being on the second floor, but they knew where she lived, and they both attended to their own plans to investigate the apartment later. To make sure it was good enough for their Darling, of course. 

~ The two spend weeks at the bar after that first night, talking with the bartender, Mia as they found out, laughing through their drinks as she poured them and speaking softly of Mia when she attended to other customers. But one night, nearing the third week, they enter and realize that Mia is not behind the bar. It shouldn’t have been so surprising - she had worked every day up until then - so that she finally had a day off should not have shocked the two as it did, but when they realized that Mia was not where they expected, they glanced between themselves and the bar as if she would appear from their will alone. 

~ “’Zashie! Sho - O - ota!” 

~ Mia’s hair was down for the first time since the two had first meet her, pooling on the plastic vinyl of the booth as Mia waved wildly, a drink resting on the table before her, as well as enough empty glasses to knock out an American frat party. She was visibly swaying in the seat, her eyes glinting between the two men as they approached, surprise written across their faces. It doesn’t take long for the two to get Mia talking, and once she does she’s brazenly open for the first time, her answers coming freely as they ask about her childhood - which had been normal to the point of boring - to her Quirk - which she playfully describes as “Beautifully useless.” - to the bright ring that seemed to run through the tip of her tail - “My parents hated it, but when I was a kit, one of my older brothers accidentally shut my tail in a door, breaking two of the bones. They had to remove then to prevent infections and it made that part of my tail . . . floppy, I guess is the word for it. It didn’t sit right. So I wanted something to make it sit. And the piercing didn’t hurt at all cause it’s all numb through there anyways cause of the bones bean gone an all, and look ~!” Mia waves her tail in front of their faces, its long length unfurling and twitching, causing a ringing bell to sound. there, attached to the ring, was a small golden bell. 

~ It was almost a good enough act to hide the shadows beneath her eyes, the way her ears laid back at the smallest of movements, the way her hands rubbed over her forearms again and again. They laughed, and pretended to drink with Mia as she continued to chat, seeming for all the world as if they were simply drinking with a friend but there was something . . . darker. Something darker that seemed to blanket the group as the questions became more personal and the responses became more clipped. Shouta’s question of her family had been met with stony silence, and for a moment the group feel silent as the club continued to blare around them. Finally, Hizashi broke the silence. 

~ “What made you deride to drink so much tonight, Little Listener?” 

~ Mia almost looked like she wouldn’t respond for a moment, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted, but then she spoke, and her voice was barely audible over the din of the club. “Ahh, you know, life isn’t the best. Ever. So sometimes I drink so I don’t reme-mem-ber just how . . . not the best it is.” 

~ She refused to go into more detail than that, even when Hizashi tried to get her explain again and again. In the end the two escorted Mia to her home as the sun rose above the rooftops, despite her never telling either men where she lived. She was slurring heavily, eyes nearly closed as they shouldered her door open and led her to her bed. Her breath was already calm and even by the time her head hit the pillow, and Hizashi wondered if she hadn’t been sleep walking after all. 

~ Hizashi makes sure to leave a glass of water on her nightstand, along with several Advil, his hands fluttering over her form as he debated whether she would be more comfortable out of the hoodie and jeans she wore, but before he could come to a resolution Shouta moved forward and drew the sleeve of her hoodie up her arm, revealing a patchwork of bruises and fine line cuts that seemed to span the length of her forearm and biceps. 

~ It’s nearly lucky that Mia had already passed out from the drink at that moment, because Shouta is not quiet as he striped her of her clothes, revealing more bruises along her legs, although there didn’t seem to be any more of the cuts.

~ Shouta seethes silently, but Hizashi’s voice, when he speaks, holds enough emotion for them both: “We will save her.”

~ They begin to actively coming around more and more after that, running into her outside the bar, the park, the grocer, the butcher. It happens so often that Mia stops wondering if she’s going to see them again and merely wonders when. They became a group, one that went to events together and on the nights when Mia and the boys would go out together, the nights when the sun was rising on the horizon as they attempted to stagger home, it becomes common place for the boys to crash on the couch together. One or the other would make a light breakfast if they woke before Mia, and if she woke before them they would wake to donuts and coffee from a shop down the street. She had admitted a few weeks into the arrangement that she didn’t really know how to cook, and she didn’t have time to learn, so why both when she could just get everything she needed already cooked for her?

~ Summer fades into fall and by the time winter comes the two ex-Villains have more than learned that despite her happy and lighthearted front, Mia was suffering from both depression and anxiety. They knew when it bothered her more becomes her clothes, which would normally display more than enough skin in their opinion, would become revealing no matter the weather. It was due to the bruises, the cuts, they were sure, and as they had found no evidence of a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or even an abusive family member, the two had been forced to confront the notion that Mia was doing that to herself - that she was harming herself. 

~ They decide to confront Mia about it, but the night they plan on bringing it up Mia never shows to the coffee shop. At first the two assume that she had to work, something that had made her late or a no show to their meetings before, but after visiting the bar and learning that she hadn’t even been scheduled for that day Shouta and Hizashi decide to visit her apartment. And it’s a wreak. Door broken from its hinges, furniture tipped and thrown across the room, and there, in the bedroom along the door - blood. A single, bloody hand print smeared against the creamy paint. Pinned beneath a knife is a note with a brief message: If you want the girl back, you know where to find me.

~ And they do. It takes nearly three and a half days to find the cocky little fucker who took their darling from them and the moment they step through the doorway of the Yukaza hideaway, blood begins to fall. The last body - the little punk who lead the operation - hits the floor long before they actually find Mia. And when they do Hizashi openly begins to weep while Shouta stares in horror.

~ Mia was drugged, clearly so, and hurt badly. She was hung from the rafters of the hideaway by her wrists, her toes barely touching the ground. Her clothes had been cut from her, non to gently judging by the smooth red line that ran from the hallow of her neck to her belly button. Both lips were swollen and bleeding, her cheek was clearly broken, and bruises covered nearly every inch of her body. But, Shouta sighed in relief as he carefully cut her down and began wrapping her in his over sized coat, she seemed to have been used as a human bunching bag rather than a sexual toy, and for that he was grateful. 

.~ Mia wakes up in the hospital, and afterwards Shouta and Hizashi offer to allow Mia to stay with them. “You’re place isn’t safe anymore.” Shouta points out, using her fear against her. “The men who kidnapped you must have had a reason. What if they come back for you?” In the end, Mia agrees, and through the next few months the two help Mia as she begins her painful recover and by the time winter becomes spring Mia is fully healed. Physically at the very least. She suffered from nightmares nearly every time she laid her head down to go to to sleep, and during the day the smallest of noises, which bothered her before, would send her spiraling into a panic attack. She, on more than one occasion, took swings at both Shouta and Hizashi in her sleep, but neither men resented her for it. It broke their hearts to see their darling this way, and one or the other commonly sleeps with her at night despite her protests that she can sleep alone.

~ A free weekend comes up, something that rarely happens as both men are much too often busy with their jobs - although Mia never does learn where the two work - and the group decide to spend that Friday night binge watching Studio Ghibli movies and drinking their way through a tall bottle of sake. Their nearly to the end of Pom Poko when Hizashi makes the first move. They had planned this for weeks now, and the both were sure of how this would end, whether Mia truly wanted this or not. They had been kind and caring. They had waited. And now, with Mia laying on the couch between the two of them, cheeks rosy from drink, they knew it was time for them to have their reward. 

~ Mia nearly bolts from the couch when Hizashi suddenly leans into her and she fills his lips on her neck. But Shouta’s hands where on her shoulders, holding her down and rubbing soothing circles all in the same motion. “Guys, what are you -” but she doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Shouta’s lips are on hers and Hizashi whispered hushed words into her neck. Their hands were every where at once, pressing against her skin, slipping beneath her clothes. Mia couldn’t breath past the lips on hers, the smell of wine on their breath mingling with hers made her dizzy causing her mind to spin. 

~ It isn’t until their laying together in the bed, skin sweaty and slightly out of breath that the words where spoken under Hizashi’s breath: “I love you.” And when the words are whispered back to them both, softly and of so sweet, the two ex-villains can barely believe it. it seems so sweet to hear after so long, and the face that she falls asleep only moments later, head pillowed on Shouta’s chest and cradled against Hizashi’s front, they feel as if they are on top of the world. Finally, Mia had accepted them. Finally, after nearly a year of conditioning their Darling, all their hard work had finally paid off.

~ They’re both gone when Mia awakes however, and she thinks little of it. They’re both often gone when she awakes nowadays, so she goes about her business, even a little grateful that the boys where gone. It gave her time to muddle over her actions the previous night. It was hard to remember how she had acted. She had been so . . . so wanton. She hadn’t even questioned the two men, and looking back she wondered if she should have. Memories still cloud her thoughts as she walks into the kitchen, towel drying her hair, a blush coating her cheeks as the look in Shouta’s eyes as he stared up at her from between her thighs replays in her minds eye. But a voice stops her train of thought just as she reaches the fridge, the voice of an anchor man from the news, speaking urgently.

~ “ - in the area are urged to use extreme caution. both Villains are known to be extreme dangerous, and despite their four year hiatus, we are still told that the Villains Eraserhead and Present Mic are not to be approached. If spotted, please, report to a profession, and they will respond. Again, all citizens in the area are urged to used extreme caution. Both villains are known - “ It isn’t the words that stop Mia. No. Its the reflection of the T.V. screen in the window. A screen showing to photos of men that Mia knew disturbingly well. 

~ Shouta and Hizashi. Shouta and Hizashi dressed in gear that Mia had seen them both leave in more than once. Shouta and Hizashi staring at the viewer with glares hard enough to shatter ice. Shouta and Hizashi were villains.

~ Before Mia can process what she’s doing, she finds herself at a window, fingers tugging desperately at the latch. They lived at the edge of the city, in a low structured two story home that wouldn’t be a problem to jump from - she had fallen farther for less as a teenager - if only she could get the stupid fucking things open. No matter how long or hard she tugged, she couldn’t seem to make a single one budge. And when she approaches the front door, already sure of what she’ll find, she can’t help the sob that escapes when she finds it locked as well. 

~ She was so stupid. How could she have fallen for them? It had never been a problem before. They had made no effort to convince her to leave the house, and why would she? They had always brought everything she had ever needed. Food, clothes, toiletries, anything she had ever mentioned or stated she needed or wanted. They had always appeared with it the next morning, and when Mia had lamented how none of Shouta’s cats seemed to like her, he had left the house without a word and appeared only hours later, a simple ginger kitten in his hands. They had cooked for her, and cleaned after her, held her after her nightmares and been so . . . so . . . so kind. No matter what, they had both treated her as if she were something fragile, something could easily be broken. Even when she had been sandwiched between the two, heavy breath on her neck and their bodies pressed tightly against hers, they had treated her as if she were nothing more than a porcelain doll. 

~ By the time Shouta and Hizashi arrive at the house that night Mia has calmed a bit, sitting with the small ginger cat in her lap and a large knife next to her. To say the two men are surprised is a understatement, but the moment their eyes locked on the T.V. they understand. “You know.” Mia doesn’t say a word. She merely stares. “Did you see the news?” A small head shake and Shouta sighs, stepping forward lightly but Mia reacts violently, her ears flattening against her skull, her tail puffing with rage or fear, they weren’t sure. She bolted from the couch, Ginger falling the floor with a disgruntled meow, knife already in her hand. “Mia. You don’t want to do this.”  

~  “Fuck you ‘Zashi.” Hizashi startles at the use of his pet name, his eyes meeting Shouta’s for a moment before Mia draws their attention back. “Why? Why could you just tell me the truth? Why did you lie to me? Why - “ Mia bites back a sob, the knife clattering from her fingertips as she stumbled backwards.

~ “Didn’t you watch the rest, baby?” Hizashi croons. “Didn’t you see the part where the two Big Bad Villains died?” And it’s true. Hizashi forces her to watch the T.V., really watch it for the first time in hours, and she saw that his words were true. The Hero All Might had defeated both Villains, whipping the floor with them both. They were pronounced dead on scene and while the news station continued to show repeated clips of the fight as a newscaster spoke, Hizashi walked forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Don’t you see, little listener? We killed ‘em, those Villains. All Might owed us a favor, and we finally cashed it out.” 

~ “But what you did -” 

~ “Does it really matter any more?” Shouta moved forward and melded to her front. “We can be with you. And we will. We’ll spoil you rotten and give you everything in the world. You just have to say you’ll be ours. That’s all. Just say it baby.” Mia refuses to listen, sobbing and moving to pull away, but both men refuse to let her go, cooing soft words of reassurance.

~ “It’s okay, little listener.” Hizashi soothes later, his hands stroking over her skin as they lay in bed together, Mia fully exhausted from her tears. “You don’t have to love us right now. we love you plenty to make up for it. And we’ll never stop loving you.”

[justimajin]

A Wilting Rose╰ Part 5╮

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

➺ Genre: Fluff (so much fluff) 

↳ (3.2k) Actor and Actress AU

➺ Summary: The world of acting can be best described with three words - dark, invasive and inhumane. Talent, although heavily required, isn’t focused upon in comparison to the juicy gossip and various rumors that can be spread. This is why even you - an extremely talented actress - fall prey to the chops of the acting world and find yourself in a down whirling spiral with no escape. Desperately needing to get back up on your two feet once again, it seems like your best bet is a newcomer to the industry, who has yet to understand the ways of your fallen world.

➺ Warnings: some swearing, jimin being an adorable bean

➺ Moodboard Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“But why...why does he think of me in such a way?” 

“He wishes the best for you Princess.” 

A soft smile arises on your lips, “The best for me would be to rule the kingdom General, and yet he thinks my future husband would be a better choice.” 

“I am here with you Princess,” He grasps your hand, tugging you closer towards him, “And I will most certainly be there to see you become Queen.” 

He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, lightly caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“CUT!” 

Both you and Jimin instantly sink down, a sigh passing through you when you take the water bottle Namjoon hands you and chug it down instantly. You glance back at Jimin, seeing his cheeks completely flushed and a heavy hand placed just above his heart. 

You tilt your head to the side, amused, “Are you blushing?” 

Jimin jolts, like he hadn’t been expecting you to still be standing there, “I-I’m not used to doing romance yet.” 

“You should get used to it, there’s supposed to be a couple of kissing scenes later on.” 

“K-Kissing scenes? Like on the mouth?” 

“I would hope so.” His eyes widen, “Don’t worry I’ll go easy on you.” A devilish snicker escapes you and suddenly all colour drains from his face as he visibly gulps. 

Ever since Jimin had given you advice the other day and let you watch Taehyung, your acting has improved significantly. You still do have the occasional hiccups though, your expression not being on point, your voice not conveying enough emotion, your real personality suddenly barging in at unexpected times (much to Yoongi’s resentment), but you were able to keep it together. 

Surprisingly, You also find yourself getting closer to Jimin since he had helped you however you weren’t very keen on shedding tears in front of him. 

“Hey.” He turns to you, the blush considerably gone down after he tried fanning himself multiple times and you move your eyes away from his face, “About last time...outside of the restaurant...you know…” 

You sigh and squeeze your eyes from how vague you were being, turning to Jimin to properly explain. However, he softly gazes at you, “What are you talking about?” 

He leans closer to you when you furrow your brows, speaking quietly, “I can’t seem to recall what happened.” 

You just stare at him when he backs away and he sends you a small smile before turning to his stylist to fix his hair. You open your mouth a couple of times, before ultimately deciding to keep it shut as you lower your head. 

“Both of you back to your places!” Yoongi shouts and soon you’re getting back into formation. However, this time you and Jimin have to continue the conversation as he holds you and while for you this was a piece of cake, the same can’t be said for him. 

He almost avoids your eyes, the blush slowly creeping up from his neck and cheeks as the dialogue comes out too broken and scattered - making no sense whatsoever. It also feels weird for you to him to be holding you like this, not because of the actual action, but because of how stiff and uncomfortable his posture was coming off as. 

“CUT!” Yoongi stomps over, telling Jimin exactly what you were seeing as he carefully listens and somberly shakes his head. 

One interesting aspect you had come to learn about Jimin was that he doesn’t just give up. Instead of arguing and retorting back at Yoongi, he simply listens and tries to correct himself, constantly trying to improve until he gets it right. 

And its admirable because it’s considerably far different from what you would do. 

“Action!” 

“You want to see me become Queen?” You widen your eyes a little bit, looking surprised. “But why?” 

“Because I think you can rule this kingdom better than the King has.” He pulls you closer and you try not to react at how Jimin is subtly shaking in your hands. “My only wish is to see you happy Princess.” 

You blush. The suggestive romantic music plays. Jimin continues to hold you. 

However, the pure fantasized scene isn’t what bothers you, but more so how Jimin is trying to hide his severely red cheeks behind your head and only pulls you closer to subdue his shaking. It isn’t in the script, but you still try to make it appear as if he’s trying to control his undying love for you by doing such actions when you lace your arms around him. He jolts, before slowly easing in. 

“CUT!” 

He immediately sighs and relaxes, taking a deep breath when Yoongi runs over to you. “That scene was well done, so there’s no need to film it again. Jimin will have to get used to romantic scenes like this more in the future and Y/N,” He glances at you, “Nice addition at the end there.” 

Jimin glances back at you once Yoongi leaves, “T-Thanks for that.” He points behind him, “Covering up for me.” 

You just shrug, “You gave me some sensible advice last time, consider it to be repaying the favour.” You’re about to head back to your stylist to get changed when Jimin abruptly clasps onto your hand, letting go immediately after realizing what he had done. 

You raise an eyebrow, noticing that you weren’t filming in the particular moment and yet there’s a scarlet hue on his cheeks. “Are you hungry...?” 

You nod. “I was on my way to eat after this, do you want to grab a bite together?” 

Jimin’s eyes instantly light up at your question and he cutely shakes his head as you chuckle. 

“Meet me outside after changing from your costume.” 

“....there shouldn’t be anyone around, I checked the perimeters and think it will be safe for the two of you.” 

“Are you sure?” You ask, currently leaning against your sports car as you talk to Jungkook - who is adorned in his black suit and specialized hearing device attached to his left ear. 

He smiles, “I checked them twice.” 

You cross your arms, a frown on your lips, “Well I want no one finding us this time, so be on my tail and inform me in case you see something.” 

Jungkook nods, moving to secure the car door as you look outside of the set with a sigh. Soon you catch sight of the young actor, dressed in a cozy brown sweater that literally engulfs his form and clad in ripped black jeans. “Y/N!” 

He waves over to you and you give him a subtle nod as a response when he makes his way over to the car. His eyes land onto Jungkook, who is currently speaking through his phone to security and he turns to you, “Who is this?” 

“Jungkook. My trustworthy and capable bodyguard.” You smirk, “Although that last trait is debatable.” 

He sends you a small playful glare, seemingly listening in even as he’s occupied with the phone. “I’m making sure we don’t have any extra visitors like last time.” 

“Oh.” He glances down at his attire, “Should I change…?” 

“There’s no need to.” You pull out two sets of sunglasses and floppy long hats, “These should be enough.” 

A laugh escapes Jimin and he immediately covers his mouth with his sweater paws, afraid you heard him. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head, small giggles leaving his mouth, “I don’t think dressing like that will help us much, but we can try.” Taking a pair of each from you, he places the glasses on the bridge of his nose and the floppy hat lands on his head, “How do I look?” 

You smirk, doing the same, “Like a perfectly disguised Park Jimin.”

Briefly glancing at Jungkook who nods, you set out with Jimin to grab some lunch as Jungkook ensures no one is around you. In case someone does manage to recognize you, there’s a sense of relief that Jungkook will at least be able to handle them so you’re not forced to bear through a large crowd of screaming girls again. 

After a lot of searching, you and Jimin finally find a place (that even you agree with because there aren’t so many people around) and sit down, noticing the waiter give you both an odd look from the matching glasses and hats but ultimately deciding that taking your order and leaving was far more important. 

While you wait, you and Jimin get around to talking quite a bit and soon you’re indulging as to why both of you had even entered the same profession in the first place. 

‘“Have you heard of Song Hyekyo?”

Jimin has his sweater paws placed on the side of his cheeks, tilting his head to the side, “The famous actress? I remember seeing one or two of her movies.” 

“She was my role model growing up. I used to watch her movies and see how she played her characters…” You wave your hands in their air, trying to explain the experience as best as you can, “How she brought life to her characters. It was then that I knew...I wanted to be just like her.” 

Jimin has a loose smile on his lips, eyes softening as he hears you passionately speak about why you chose acting in the end, “But my parents, they were strictly against it. They told me that acting wasn’t an easy career I could pursue and in the end I would just end up failing.” You let out a small sigh, taking a bite of your sandwich, “Sometimes I think they were actually right and I should have just listened to them.”

He frowns at that, putting his hands down, “It’s great that you didn’t listen to them! You’re become such a great actress!” 

“Yeah, so great that Yoongi’s constantly on my ass for this movie.” You take another bite and Jimin clenches his fists, pouting at you. You wonder if he was getting mad from your words, but he dons such a cute expression that you find it incredibly hard to even tell. 

“I don’t think you’re as horrible as you keep thinking you are…your movies, they’re really good. Your acting is amazing to watch.”

You narrow your eyes, lowering your sandwich from your mouth as you lean closer to him, “Why do you sound like you’ve seen them?” 

“W-Well…” He bites his bottom lip, suddenly fixating his stare onto the table, “I’ve seen all of them and you were one of the few actors that inspired me to become one.” 

Your jaw drops down and your sandwich falls onto the table - completely frozen when you just stare at him. 

You never could have imagined that your work could have influenced someone to the point where they would want to become just like you, for someone to have sought out the same career path because you were acting in it. 

Jimin’s brows furrow and he slowly leans towards you, waving around his loose paw, “Y/N?” 

“I-I…” You gulp, “I’m honoured…” 

Jimin smiles at you, to the point where his eyes are submerged underneath his eyelids and his lips are curved into a huge grin, lines creasing the side of them. You on the other hand, attempt to resume eating your sandwich while trying not to make much eye contact and try your hardest to bite back the smile that keeps threatening to grace your own features. 

“It seems like you know your stuff, even though this is the first time you’ve acted.” 

Jimin sheepishly smiles, “Thank you for saying that...but it wasn’t very easy when I was starting off.”

“I grew really desperate. I wanted to act, to make people feel something when they would see me on the big screens, but I constantly got offers for modeling and doing commercials.” You raise a brow, his story somehow feeling vaguely familiar to you. 

“I auditioned so many times that I lost count and I was always rejected. Even if someone told me that I was a good actor during that time, it didn’t matter if I wasn’t passing any auditions.” 

“And that’s when I got a call from Hoseok suddenly one day, that this big director wants to cast me.” 

“I was really, really scared, I mean, you’ve seen Yoongi.” You nod knowingly. 

“But I had no other option, he was the only director willing to case me so I just went for it.” 

“And then…” He covers his cheeks again with his paws, “I found out I was being cast against you and I…” He now covers his face completely and a light laugh escapes you. 

“It does seem like you’ve struggled a lot to get here.” It’s odd, almost, how if you didn’t get this movie then you would just end up searching for another one. Although your reputation was notorious, you would’ve gotten some role with Namjoon’s privileged help and ultimately been acting once again. 

However, this wasn’t the case at all with Jimin. This movie was his only choice and he didn’t miss a heartbeat in taking it right away. You can just feel it - the constant auditioning followed by the multiple rejections, making you wonder why you weren’t good enough for the part and then having to see commercials, posters and even the chosen actor themselves afterwards. 

Swallowing down the bitter pill, that this person was more capable than you and you would probably never be given a chance ever again. 

You gaze at Jimin, eyes now flickering over to him as he happily chews down on his sandwich. He looks just like how you had first saw him - a man with pretty-like features and pure innocence abundantly radiating off of him, but he has so much more to him that you really did miss during your first encounter.

Every rose does have its own hidden petals. 

He places the sandwich down after a couple of bites and packs it away, “You’re not going to eat anymore?” 

At this point you’ve already eaten two and aside from the bites he taken now, Jimin hasn’t really touched any of his food. He softly shakes his head, “I’m not really hungry at the moment.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, but then he changes the topic, “So how do you like the story so far?” 

“Our movie’s story?” He nods, “It’s okay, I didn’t want to do a tragic romance but Namjoon insisted on it. Also the fact that my character is kind of annoying.” 

Jimin chuckles, “What about you? You play the role of the General to the point.” 

“I think the story is nice. I mean, from what I have understood, the General has always liked the Princess from afar and just wants to see her happy, so he isn’t so difficult to play.” 

Jimin drinks a sip from his glass of water as you hum, “You have a good grasp on his character, hopefully tomorrow’s kiss scene goes by smoothly.” 

He instantly chokes, pounding his fist against his chest as he stares at you in pure bewilderment, “T-The kiss scene is tomorrow?!”

You nod, “Yoongi was talking about it today, didn’t he mention it to you?” 

“I must have not been listening....” His gaze turns tense and drops to the ground. 

Your eyes flicker and you grab a napkin to wipe the crumbs from your hands, “Everyone knows the first kiss scene is the hardest for a new actor. Yoongi will probably be more lenient with you tomorrow.” 

Jimin heavily exhales, “I hope so.” 

You frown, staring at him for a mere second before tossing the napkin to the side, “And if he won’t be lenient with you tomorrow, then I will be…” 

Jimin looks to you as you avoid his tender gaze, playing around with the discarded napkin instead. “Thank you.”

You look up sternly for a moment to see his soft smile and immediately you look back down, unknowingly feeling a similar smile tugging on your lips. 

You open the door to be hit with a cold breeze, hurriedly covering your exposed arms and then tugging on a jacket. Jimin is right behind you, closing the door to the food place you were at and being dressed in only his brown ruffled sweater. 

“It’s freezing out here.” You manage to mumble out into the night sky, the temperature just feeling like it was dropping more and more by the minute. 

Jimin just nods, squeezing his eyes shut as he walks you over to your car where Jungkook is waiting for you in your driver’s seat. 

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” You open the door and gesture Jimin to get in, but he shakes his head. 

“I have to meet up with my manager before I go home.” He points with his head as his hands are currently encased within his sweater, “His office is nearby.” 

You have to raise your tone over the sound of the grueling breeze. “I’ll drop you off there then.” 

He begins to slowly back away from you and the car, “I’ll be fine. See you later Y/N!” 

He leaves before you can say anything else to pursue him and you remain standing there in front of the open door. “Y/N get in, it’s really cold outside.” Jungkook softly says, patiently waiting in the driver’s seat. 

With a sigh, you slip inside and shut the door. The engine roars and soon your car is leaving the premises, but outside the window all you can see the chilling breeze of the night and how pitch dark it seems. 

“Jungkook?” He hums. “How much colder is it going to get?” 

“The temperature is expected to drop more into the night.” A knowing smile is on his features as he sees your eyes still glued to the window, “And Hoseok’s office is nearby Y/N, only a short walk away.” 

You tear your eyes away, glancing to see Jungkook smiling at you from the rear mirror. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms once again. 

“I-I knew that.”

[alannahaisling]

Hmm.

Found some old original writings. Wondering if I should continue them...? 

Granted this particular piece has memories of certain people attached to it. Mainly someone who was a great friend, who is no longer in the world of the living, but he did enjoy these writings. I think, I’ll post the first chapter here.

If it’s even remotely good, and people who do read this get invested, let me know?

That said, I’m tossing this into the void for eyes to see. Granted If you are interested I have other chapters, over on my old abandoned deviant art account, that I can grab and bring over too.

Title: The Rabbit Warrior.

Chapter one: The Bonded Soul.

It is probably well known and spoken about by those within the Order, that the Teddy Bears come to life when nobody is around, it is the same with the dolls we so cherish, but have you ever pondered about the other toys? Do they like the Bears and Dolls come to life when you're not there to see? Or do they sit idle and never move unless a human child or adult with the mind of a child moves them about? That is what this tale is about. This Tale is about one toy in particular, Kuma. Kuma was a pink long eared rabbit. With a red bow around his neck. His body was made of soft plush fabrics, and fluff, and beans within his legs and arms. He was a floppy bunny, but oh, he was loved. Loved and cherished, by a very small, short, and tiny little girl. Her hands were so tiny they barely could grasp or hold onto the arm of her beloved Rabbit Kuma, yet Kuma didn't mind. Kuma loved being dragged about, and hugged tightly, he didn't even mind when food stained his soft pink fur. It just meant that it was time for a bath, and a few hours to sit and dry in the sun. Kuma, loved this little girl, with her small round face with the ever changing expressions, curly mop of messy hair, and freckles across her nose. The pair were inseparable, and Kuma often enjoyed every hour spent with the little girl. Sad to say, that his days of happiness were about to end. It started with a cough, then a sniffle, then a very high fever. Hours upon hours, the little girl stayed in bed, with Kuma on the small bedside table, head flopping forward as if he were eternally frowning at her illness. It was in the middle of the night, of that fateful night, the door creaked open, and a small fuzzy hand curled around the edges of the door and slowly pushed it open. Kuma watched as the door opened, and the shadows of two bears loomed into the room aided by the lights in the hall. The two bears walked in quietly, and worked together to pile up blocks and boxes to get up onto the night stand, and then turned to look at Kuma. “I think it's about time you broke your vow of silence, Kuma” The older bear whispered as he leaned against his cane, and pulled off a top hat from his head. “You're the only  one left. There are no more from the Secret Order of the Warrior Rabbits.” Kuma, lifted his head, with all his strength and his coal black eyes shone in the light coming from the little girls window. “I've served my time already, leave me in peace.” Kuma said, as he turned his head now, to look at the very sick, and slumbering girl as her body shook with yet more coughs. “I dare not leave her side.” The younger of the bears, gave a thoughtful nod, and then gave the older bear a pat on his shoulder. “Let me speak to him, Denah.” “If you insist.” Denah said replacing his top hat, and moving off towards the window to look outside at the view, leaving the younger, light brown teddy bear in green vest to speak on the subject again. “I must apologize.” The younger bear said, “Denah is a bit frantic honestly. In his haste he hasn't explained the situation properly.” “Oh?” Kuma said, turning his head as his long ears swished and gave the younger of the bears his attention. “What news, Bear, do you bring?” The Bear nodded his furry head, and  pulled at his little round ears in much distress. “The children, Sir Kuma, are dying. I know we've had our differences in the past, yet this is something we must all address. The other Rabbits of the order from years long past have lost their souls, and are silent like husks! Having lost their children! The bears as well, are suffering loss and grief, as children die younger and younger.” This news gave Kuma reason to think, and to ponder. The little girl who had so loved him, and he loved in return, was gravely ill. Did this mean that she could possibly be dying? He lifted one of his paw like hands and placed it upon the spot where the soul connected to his child's soul rested. There was the small tell tale signs of a stress, a hurt that he had not noticed before because he was so worried about the little girl. “The children are dying?” Kuma Echoed and took a saddened breath. “This would explain the pain in my bonded soul. The girl is dying.” The Younger Teddy bear nodded his head gravely, and then sat next to Kuma, playing one of his own fuzzy paws on the Rabbits arm. “You're the last Rabbit Warrior. We need your help, to find the cause of this sickness that has struck the children, and made them so deathly ill.” “And if my soul is severed? What then?” Kuma demanded, turning his face to look at the Teddy Bear, “Unlike the Bears, we Rabbits don't keep the souls we earn after being named, and loved. Like a love bird we die with our beloved children.” The Bear took note and let the statement stand. “It is a great risk, but only the Warrior Rabbits were ever capable of such quests.” Kuma gave a hard, and very harsh bark of a laugh. “Ha! You Bears are forgetful! I have walked the front lines in the wars that took place under the beds of children for years and years, generation after generation. The only reason why I even live is because I was passed down from mother to daughter over the years, maintaining my name, and given a new lease of being a Rabbit warrior and Guardian to begin with. If it were not for that tradition, I'd be a husk like the others.” “That, is why we need you. You have the experience from the older days long past.” The bear pleaded. “We fear, that this illness.. This sickness, that threatens not only you, but the Dolls and Order of the Bears is caused, by our oldest enemy.” Kuma gave a pause, and lowered his head. “You mean the King of the Dark.” He whispered. “I have crossed blades with him a very long time ago, I cleaved across his right eye, in that battle. I know him well.” He paused and looked to the Bear. “So why do you think it is him?” The bear swallowed. “We overheard the Adult doctors. Rat's. Rat's are the carriers, and they said they hadn't seen this type of illness in several years. They are dumbfounded, as to how it resurfaced.” Kuma gave a nod of his head, and stood. “Well then, Bear.” Kuma said looking over the girl a paw over the secret soul he stored in his chest. “The only rat in this entire Orphanage, is indeed the King of the Dark. I however worry, that even if I slay the King, that it will be for naught. What if the human healers cannot save the remaining children?” The older bear, having returned to the pair, could only say one thing. “We can only hope, that the Illness ends with her, weather she survives or not.” “Indeed, Old Bear.” Kuma muttered as he lowered his head. 'I will know either way, if she or I are in peril.”

[rowakobagoldwolfe]

like honey and fire

goldwolfe — 1536 words

A sky burned orange sent warm shadows crawling from treetops toward the little cabin in the middle of the woods. It was the beginning of spring, but on Lake Michigan, the breeze rolled in a bitter frost. Smoke crawled out from the cabin’s chimney each night, catching hold of the coldness and thickening into a white fog that hung above the shingles.

Inside, Marigold wore a zip-up onesie with floppy rabbit ears attached to the hood, and as the hearth crackled and danced across her face, she curled her toes. In here it was toasty, warm. And in the pit of her stomach, she knew that it was almost time, and that he would be home before long.

“Alright,” she said to the dog, her golden retriever Teddy, who laid on his belly across from her; his head sat on his front legs so that only the tips of his paws were visible. Thick golden fur spread around him, and in her head, Marigold considered it something of a dog’s natural furry halo. “I’m going to let you choose your cards now, so from this deck, pick one. That’s your guiding card.” She picked up a deck and splayed them across the carpet in front of the dog, making sure he could have a fair choice.

Teddy looked up at her for a moment before leaning forward, sniffing them all, and licking one just right of center.

“Good choice, Teddy,” Marigold said, and bent forward to give him a peck on the top of his head. He was a very good boy and she liked letting him know that she thought so whenever it occurred to her. (This usually happened at least five times a day.)

As she leaned back, crossed her legs, and reached left for the second stack of cards, she heard a noise from the driveway. Tires cracked against the gravel, and she knew that if she were to go and peek through the curtains near the front door, she would find a silver Buick Lacrosse turning off. The clock nearest her (but by no means the only clock in the room) read 6:36.

Marigold looked down at herself, already wearing her pajamas. Maybe it was a bit too early for footies. She then looked to the cards in front of her, and wondered if it was strange, too, that she was sitting in her living room reading tarot cards for her dog.

There was a heavy noise that thunked against the door, followed by the sound of keys jingling - and with the jiggle of a handle and a good shove, the doorway cleared.

With his arms full and his glasses cocked sideways on his nose, Max was home.

Marigold turned to see him duck into the doorway, set his briefcase and jacket down on the floor near the mat, and shut the house up behind him. His eyes immediately found hers as he let out a loud, tired breath, just before the corners of his mouth turned upward into a goofy sideways smile.

Marigold’s full lips curved just the same.

“Hi, Bean,” she said over her shoulder, then hid her childish grin behind her hair, turning back around to her cards before splaying them out in front of Teddy. He started to wag his tail contentedly as his other person crossed the room to sit with them on the floor. 

Max crouched first, then let his body weight take him the rest of the way, his back meeting the side of the couch as he began to unlace his shoes.

“What’s Teddy going through lately?” Max asked, a smile in his voice. It wasn’t mocking, but happily inquisitive. Marigold thought it was nice that he genuinely played along, even if she knew Max never really put much stock in magic.

Marigold watched as Teddy began sniffing the cards, making his choice carefully. “Not sure yet, he only just picked his guiding card.” She paused, then stretched a hand toward him across the carpet. “How was work?”

“Not bad. Not good.” Max sighed, glancing at the watch on the inside of his wrist before unbuckling it. After he set it aside, he leaned sideways, covering her hand in his as he stretched out on the floor. Marigold turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. Without thought, his thumb rubbed the back of her hand.

Soft, he thought. And without a good reason as to why, he smiled. Sometimes it was the easy things like holding his best girl’s hand at the end of the day that made spending hours away from home worthwhile.

Teddy pawed at a few cards and licked another, and so Marigold reached over to take the chosen cards away from him. She slid the rest of the deck out of the way and then arranged his cards in a diamond shape.

“Cold outside,” Max said softly.

Marigold looked over at him, waited a beat, then raised one fuzzy foot. “Hence… the onesie.”

Max laughed. It was a belly laugh, deep, and warm. The kind that made Marigold’s mouth turn into a tight smile all over again.

“If I got a onesie...” Max started again - and with every word, Marigold found herself drifting farther and farther away from Teddy’s reading and closer to the sound of Max’s voice. “You have to promise not to tell Shikoba.”

“Really?” Her eyebrow quirked upward. “You don’t think he probably already has one?”

Max rolled his eyes a little. “I feel like I’d know if he had one.”

Decidedly, Marigold turned toward him, nudged closer before positioning herself along his side on the floor. His fingers left hers as he slung one arm over her waist and the other curved across the floor above her head; like two puzzle pieces fitting together, she weaved one of her legs over his.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice a little quieter, “that’s fair. You guys are best buddies and all. But I feel like Shikoba has probably had the same conversation with Rowan about onesies that we’re having right now...”

“You think Rowan’s been sworn into secrecy?” Max murmured, his eyebrows innocently pulling together.

“Could be.”

“Hm. Guess I never thought about that.” Max paused, then reached his arm upward to brush the bangs from Marigold’s eyes. “Just looks comfy, I guess.”

“So you should get one, and we could match,” Marigold grinned.

“I don’t think I want one with bunny ears…”

She breathed a soft laugh, and his knuckles just grazed the side of her face. “Okay. I can settle for kind-of matching.”

“Good.”

A quiet moment passed between them, when Teddy sighed on the floor across from them and the fireplace crackled. Their breathing synced and they watched one another’s eyes reflect the glassy glow of the fire.

And then, Marigold said: “I mean, I knew you’d probably want a Yoshi onesie anyway.”

Without hesitation, Max grabbed Marigold, pinned her arms above her head, and tickled her just under her neck where he knew she was the most sensitive. Her eyes pinched shut and she wheezed out a high, piercing laugh.

“YOUR HA-HA-HANDS ARE C-COLD!” she choked out, knees jumping to her chest as she started trying to kick him away.

“You were making fun of me!” Max laughed simply, and continued twirling his fingers in the crease between her chin and neck. Marigold tried to fire back with something else, but it almost immediately turned into a series of piercing laughs.

And then, suddenly, he stopped, and with it, Marigold fell back against the floor, out of breath from laughing. Max grinned down at her, and despite how much she hated being tickled, she couldn’t help looking up at Max and beaming right back at him.

Max paused, studying her. He watched the way her eyelashes cast shadows across her cheeks, like the forest line that crawled across their cottage. He took in her lips, parted, and the freckles that were just barely there, scattered across the bridge of her nose. 

Slowly, he bent his neck downward, carefully, holding her gaze in his as he leaned in closer, and closer, and then: hand still loosely holding her wrists above her head, his mouth pressed to hers. He felt the way her lips smiled against his, felt the sting in the pit of his stomach like a swarm of bees - like butterflies, but warmer. A burning.

Kissing Marigold was like honey and fire.

And as he pulled away, his face hovering centimeters above hers, she listened as she breathed. Warm air caressed his lips, and as he felt his glasses slipping down his nose, he could feel it: the heat, rising up his neck, claiming the tips of his ears, gathering a redness in his cheeks until he was consumed in flush.

Marigold’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled, slow, at the sight of him. Her hands slid from underneath his, and she took his warm cheeks in her palms and pulled him back toward her. Delicate and gentle and so impossibly full of need.

(Sometimes, in front of Marigold, Max felt so young, like he was just a boy. He wondered if she ever felt that way, too.)

(She did.)

[beautifulramblingbrains]

Bound By Chains - Chapter 20

Pairing: Eric/OC Fandom: Divergent Rating: M - This story will continually portray sensitive subjects. Trigger warning.

She’s bound to a monster. And he has personality issues.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the continuous support/messages/asks. It means the world. 

Tags: (If you want on or off the list, just ask/PM) 

@dauntlessmetalmom @equalstrashflavoredtrash @badassbaker @red-diary @pathybo @murmelinchen @insertamazingwords  @feminamortem @halefiresurvivor @suchlonelymuchsoul @elaacreditava @lauraaan182 @synnocence @jcause @glittergiirlgg @platitudinise @frecklefaceb @mimigemrose @sparklemichele @beltz2016 

This is anger,

Sarah finally decides while hidden beneath the shadows of the archlike corridors. Her hands tremble by her sides, face flushing almost instantly at the sight.

There on the other side of the pit, she watches Wayne flirt, touch, and lean in dangerously close to another woman. From his body language and the way she’s acting, there is more to it. The piercing shriek of the woman’s laughter cuts through Sarah’s body and by now she’s had enough, turning away from his wandering eager hands, pawing all over another person and not her sister.

She felt physically sick for Mary. Mary who didn’t know, but a Mary who had messaged when apparently she hadn’t heard from Wayne for days and wondered if there was a problem. God damn right there was a problem.

Sarah turns a little too hastily, almost walking straight into Four who had crept up behind her. “Oh, my god! You scared the life out of me.”

He snorts, trying to hide his smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Another loud shriek of laughter has Sarah frowning out into the crowd. “Wayne Tulver. Now that’s a fine specimen.”

“He’s nothing but an insect.”

Four cocks his head, “I know he’s been with your sister a lot. Must hurt to see this.”

“I’m becoming numb to the surprises of Dauntless. No wonder they are the warrior faction.”

“Congratulations.” Sarah’s brow puckers, not at him but riled from everything happening in front of her. “-On the baby.” Four grimaces when Sarah quickly folds her jacket over the top of her continuously protruding stomach, feeling somewhat guilty now that he had mentioned it.

“Thanks.” For a minute they stand in silence, staring out together, till eventually Sarah clears her throat. “I better go. I can’t watch this anymore. I’ve seen enough.”

“Sarah, wait…” Four turns, diverting his eyes, something Sarah had finally tried to push from her everyday demeanor. Going head to head with Eric every day; the floor would become very boring. “I just wanted to say to take care…” Sarah stares at him a little while, her lips parting a fraction, trying to suss him out. “…to be careful.”

“I’m perfectly well.”

“It’s Eric I’m talking about. I shouldn’t really say anything, but I can’t, not when-” Four motions to her stomach. “there is a child involved.”

“Eric would kill you for this conversation we are about to have.” Surprise creeps up on Four’s face. “If you think for a second I’m blind to what Eric is capable of, think again. If you think I haven’t seen the happenings between factions and the side mishandlings of situations, you may as well have called me a fool.” However, her words aren’t malicious, and she tenderly touches his shoulder. “Thank you for your concern, Four.”

The petite blonde then walks away without another word, leaving Four in his thoughts staring out after her. The Abnegation was learning, she was smart, smarter than he had originally thought. Now he saw what Clair saw. What they all saw.

Potential.

The choice of food was detestable but however inedible, convenient.

Sarah flips the fatty looking pork, suddenly feeling incredibly full and decides to eat only the small selection of carrots and green beans.

“No, eat the meat as well.” Eric claps her on the back lightly, then swings his leg over the bench imposingly close to her.

“Have you seen that meat?” She cringes, probing it with her fork. “Anyway, I need to speak with you.”

“Oh, please, please don’t let it be another work based, unimportant, minor question about whether or not the office furniture is ineptly placed, I can’t take it.” She had never said anything like that in her life. He was mocking her, and she knows so because Eric smirks.

Regardless of Eric’s uncontrollable night terrors, he had been somewhat more cautious and softer with her in the day. Maybe trying to make some palpable way to make it up to her, or disguise the fact he was still suffering. Eric was the master at pretending his problems didn’t exist.

“Actually, it’s nothing to do with work.”

Eric puts a piece in his mouth and chews, his face slowly begins scrunching up, his chewing suddenly hesitant. “You’re fucking right, it’s disgusting.”

“I told you.” Sarah begins snorting, then full on laughing behind her hand as he openly shows his disgust, “You’ve gone really pale.”

“I’m so close to heaving right now,”  Eric mutters, deadly serious. Eventually, he swallows. “Need to look into that today, whoever is cooking this shit.” He’s scouring the table for a drink.

“Here, eat this, cover the taste.” Sarah holds up a floppy green bean while still giggling, and shoves it towards him. Oddly, he does, in fact, eat it.

Even if Eric looked pale and their relationship had been come and go, she does notice how handsome he is while casually sitting next to her. Especially while not so stressed as usual. His hair had recently been cut, the sides impossibly short and left with an easily manageable length on top. Nothing fussy like when she had first met him. There was only a shadowing of his facial hair, his complexion clear. The thought was amusing that perhaps he got a more manageable haircut for becoming a dad, preparing himself already.

“You’re staring again.”

“No, I was thinking… I’m really angry.”

“Yeah, you really look it.”

“You distracted me. But I am really angry. I saw Wayne-“

“Sarah, don’t. I’m not getting involved in your younger sister's problems.”

“But Wayne hasn’t spoken to her, nor given her any idea why-“

“You want the truth? The truth hurts,” Eric says while grabbing a bread roll.

“Something would be nice.”

“Why does any man suddenly stop talking to someone they have been chasing for weeks?” Sarah shrugs. Of course, she wouldn’t know and he sighs in pain of her virtue. “…They got what they wanted.”

“You mean?...oh my god…” Unwelcome flashing images of Wayne and Mary together haunt the back of her mind, suddenly reddening her cheeks.

“It’s for the best. You don’t want her in a relationship with him, do you?” Sarah shakes her head and he nudges her leg with his. “She learned the hard way.”

“It’s going to destroy her.” Eric’s too busy shoving food into his face and she gives a long sigh, still mad, but something else clouding her thoughts.

“So…” she draws out, glancing at the table, “…that means you didn’t get what you wanted. And still haven’t…from me…”

There’s only the slightest pause in his movements and he cocks his head to the side. “Are you flirting with me?” Sarah’s cheeks turn a whole other shade of pink and he moves closer.

“No…you just said…”

“I know exactly what I said. Are you looking for me to compliment you? Tell you how important you are to my life? How I can’t live without you?” Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, he watches her tongue dart out, moistening her lips, exactly as he’d predicted. Eric moves closer till their noses almost touch, forgetting exactly how publicly noticeable they were.

“You know I hate compliments.”

“And you know I hate lying to you.” Eric moves his body to shroud them, her own turned towards him with his hands somewhere in her hair, gripping the back of her neck, the only thing keeping her from melting into the seat.

Sarah had missed him like this. The ever-knowing Dauntless Leader. Quick thinking. Alert. A few days ago she couldn’t stand to be within a few feet of him, now, she wanted nothing more than to have his hands against her skin. It had been a while since affection had been either one of their priorities. Not even comforting words had been shared.

Eric had nightmares. Eric didn’t sleep. Eric was obnoxious in the day. That’s how the usual scenario played out. She just wanted something.

Those blue oceanic eyes swim between his as she asks in a whisper, “Lie to me.”

“Why would I lie to you?” Sarah can’t answer while caught under his attentions, and he knows, using his thumb to pull on her bottom lip. “I can’t live without you.”

“Now don’t lie to me.”

“I can’t live without you.” He smirks, closing the small distance, kissing her publicly for the first time. But the moment their lips touch, quickly the moment is gone as he pulls back, still with that all-knowing gleam to his mouth. He watches Sarah's face twist and she puts a hand on her stomach. “He’s moving?”

“I think he heard your voice,” Sarah says shyly, her chin tucked down, comforting herself with dainty fingers swirling over the material of her dress.

Eric continues to watch her, the way she holds herself too maturely, wiser than many other girls her age. He would almost be daring to say motherly.

There were many things that always grabbed his attention, causing him to pause at her appearance that little while longer than necessary. But at least he was a little more subtle about it and not caught outright staring like she usually would be. However, watching her now, he was sure he would never forget these small instances, burying them deep within his memory to recall at a more troubling time. But doting moments like this always came with backlash and guilt; something that had been gracing him more often than he liked. And that’s what forces his next words. “I’m not going to the gym tonight. I’ll be home early.”

“Oh.”

“Did you have plans?”

“I was going to look at a few baby things, you know. It’s typical, I only decided this morning. I didn’t know you were going to be home.” She’s still keeping her eyes downcast, flattening imaginary creases from her skirt.

“If I can get off earlier I’ll join you.” Sarah smiles faintly on his words but doesn’t keep her hopes up.

The only tailor shop in Dauntless is exactly how she had expected. The choice was minimal, the clothes for children shoved at the back of the small shop that was situated in excavated rock. She sighs, holding up a blue romper, one of two.

They even smelled like rock.

“Most of my stuff I got tailored.” Clair walks up behind her.

“Is that a thing here?” Sarah is still frowning at the simplicity and how, overall, Dauntless didn’t seem to take the time to invest in children too much.

“Do you know how difficult it is to find a decent tailor, though? For my kids, I had an old lady who I met completely coincidentally because we ended up moving next door to her when Adrianna was due. She’s now retired and in the home.”

“Home?”

“Don’t see many old folks around here, do you? Where do you think they go? Dauntless doesn’t have time to run a nursing joint plus military.”

“I suppose.”

“But, you’ve hardly seen half of Dauntless.” Clair’s bluntness doesn’t affect her anymore and Sarah sighs, again, for the fifteenth time. “Eric must be busy.”

Just the mention of Eric and her back stiffens. “I don’t want any of this. I’m done here. You ready to go?” In Clair’s hands are a few hangers of stuff for her daughter. The older woman merely forces a smile and nods.

Sarah had her own tailor anyway, a lot closer to home.

Mary’s phone rings for a long time before she answers. “Hello,” Sarah says a little too sweetly, buttering her toast she’d made herself and balancing the phone precariously on her shoulder. Ironic.

“Give me a minute. Let me go upstairs.” In the background, she can hear Mary’s labored breathing, her feet stomping up the stairs. “Okay...”

Sarah licks the butter off her fingers. “I think there is something we need to talk about. Well, more than one thing…” Mary doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “Have you…” She purses her lips, fighting the words. “…have you slept with Wayne?” Just as the sentence falls from her lips, Eric enters the apartment, shrugging off his jacket and looking at her curiously.

“He said he loved me.” Mary’s voice breaks, the tell-tale sign of her crying quietly to herself. “Now he won’t speak to me.”

Rubbing her temple in vain, Eric’s hands skim around her waist, pulling her back against him. “I’m sorry, Mary. I tried to-“

“I’m an idiot.” Mary sniffs, “I should’ve known,” she then coughs. “...How’s my nephew anyway?”

“Fine…perfectly fine… Mary just know that-“

“What was the other thing you wanted to speak about?” Sarah turns to face Eric, his eyes lingering along her neck, flashing up to meet hers suddenly. It was obvious Mary didn’t particularly want to talk about Wayne.

“I need baby clothes. I’ve checked Dauntless out and it’s pretty basic.”

“Ouch,” expresses Eric quietly.

“You want me to make them?” Mary’s voice gets higher. “Are you sure? I’ve never done babies stuff before?”

“Only if you wanted to. If not, I’ll try and find another alternative. But I really wanted you to as I know how amazing you are.” Sarah bites her lip, smiling, hoping, praying for her sister to say yes. Unexpectedly Eric leans down, claiming her lips.

“Get off the phone,” he whispers.

“Okay, let me have a look at a few basic designs and I’ll get back to you.”

“You are the best. Are you going to be okay?” Sarah picks up a slice of toast, biting into it under Eric’s watchful eye.

“I’ve got some school work. I’m just going to concentrate on that and, well, your request.”

“You can call anytime.”

“No she can’t,” Eric mumbles, lifting her suddenly to sit on the counter. Sarah still grips her toast in hand but grows continuously ticklish to his random prodding touches. Especially the ones that reach for the buttons at the top of her dress, undoing them one by one till she whacks his hand away.

“I’m so unsure now of when I’m next going to be able to see you.”

With another massive bite still to chew in her mouth, Sarah only manages, “Soon.” Fending off Eric’s assault.

“I hope it’s not too long. I really wanted to see the week by week difference…”

Eric rips the top part of her dress open, the significant noise of the fabric shredding from his strength and exposing the pale bra underneath. Sarah’s chest heaves, managing to catch herself as she tilts back with his needing hands on her thighs, pulling them impossibly closer together.

The toast becomes a casualty.

“Listen, Mary…” Sarah barely hears her sister's reply as Eric whips the phone from her hand and cancels the call. “That was mean.” But her voice is airy, her mouth parting till his lips press against the valley of her breasts, his tongue swirling up towards her neck.

“Shoot me.” Eric smiles on her skin, picking her up and making a break for the bedroom.

“I really, really, like this.” Eric looks smug over the report of the renovations, mainly at Sarah who is furiously pink, quietly sitting in her plastic bucket seat to one side in his office.

Sarah’s pillow talk the night before was delightful.

The confused Dauntless personnel standing at attention in front of him shifts uneasily. “Er, thanks.”

“Is it almost finished?”

“Just a week. If everything goes according to plan.”

“Great, so that means the end of February...” Eric mainly says to himself. “So March. I want it finished by the fifth. That’s plenty of time. In the meantime, I’ll be checking progress. I’ll be visiting this evening.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eric merely nods as dismissal. With the door shut and alone, Eric pushes her embarrassment further. “I want to do it again.”

“Stop.”

“Well, I liked it. What can I say?... shit.” The little Abnegation had also let that little cuss fly as he took her from behind.

Sarah is basically sweating from the heat. “I think you did actually like it.” Eric swigs the water next to him. Whatever was in the vials that he was dropping into his water, was working. Two days, no nightmares. Sarah didn’t particularly feel comfortable with it, though. But as long as it helped.

Just as she smiles cheekily from her reply and Eric still keeps his casual simper on his face, the door busts open.

“Sir…” Two Dauntless guards; the definition now Sarah saw from one simple strip of mauve on one arm, drags a rather volatile, spit-talking man into the room. Eric just stares flatly, barely moved by the scene in front of him. “…This was a domestic, but he’s officially assaulted two officers now.”

Eric sighs exasperatedly. The volatile man lifts his chin towards Sarah’s wide eyes, spitting. “What the fuck you looking at?”

“Has he taken anything?” Eric asks the guards and they merely shrug.

“I’m down here!” The irate man bunches his shoulders together, then relaxes, holding up his hands, “Look, look, I’m alright. I’m cool.” The man looks older than Eric, his head shiny with a V-shaped looking beard hanging from his chin. The red sleeves under his black bodywarmer are frayed and ripped and he looked like he had been in one of Eric’s intense training courses for about ten weeks.

Sarah inwardly tells herself not to back away, or move, or even breathe.

“If you’re cool, you can tell me what you have done, then? Can’t you?” Eric taps a pen on the desk. “No hearsay.”

“My wife is fucking another man,” he mumbles from his kneeling position.

“Boo fucking hoo,” Eric retorts quickly and the bearded man's eyes narrow.

“Nobody does that to me, nobody!” His voice crackles as if all the screaming he’d been doing at everyone had finally taken its toll. “I cut the little bastard. I don’t give a fuck. He’s lucky I didn’t skin him!” The man stumbles to his feet, the guards pinning his arms back behind him again.

There is a shift on Eric’s face as he peers between how disgusted the guards are and the anger resonating off him. “What of your wife?”

The bearded guy throws his head back and laughs.

“He maimed her, sir.”

“No prick will look at that silly cunt again!” he  proclaims, still with his hoarse laughter and Sarah gasps, putting a hand to her mouth. Like a vulture, he catches it immediately. “You’d look pretty with a lovely slice down your face and all! Stiff bitch. Fuck the lot-“ He doesn’t get to finish.

A shot cracks into the room, whipping the man’s head back and forth, forcing the guards to jump to each side, letting the bearded guy slump heavily to the floor. His blood sprays the room behind him, but the droplets ricochet and fan across the room, hitting Sarah’s face. The guards get the brunt of it as they stare down at the unexpected horror.

“Problem solved,” Eric calmly puts.

Sarah stands, arms tensed, a squeak just leaving her throat. Wiping with numb hands at her face, she turns for the door, running the corridor till she gets to Clair. The old woman’s eyes widen significantly. “Get it off!” The more she rubs, the worse it gets.

“Stop, wait.” Clair grabs a tissue, licking it to wipe her face and batting off Sarah’s flailing hands.

“Clear this up,” Eric orders from his office and strolls out into the lobby with timely steps, completely at ease with what he had done.

“She’s pregnant, Eric!” Clair finally snaps, still dabbing at Sarah’s face. “She’s a Stiff!” The motherly and worried tone in her voice stumps him. “She’s not used to this. You can’t do that!”

Eric rolls his eyes. “She’s seen worse.”

“Worse than blowing open somebody's skull?”

Eric studies Sarah, face white and shaking. Clair pushes her down into her seat. “He threatened her. I used my initiative. And if you don’t mind, I don’t like being spoken to like that.”

“It’s extreme. This is above you, Eric.”

“Oh, shut up. Go eat someone else’s ass.” He waves his hand dismissively. “I’ll take her home.”

“No.”

In the background, Sarah mumbles, “His head…it…” with her eyebrows bowed significantly while recalling the incident.

Clair takes a step towards him. “I’ll take her to mine. You and I both know you won’t be able to stay with her all day.” Eric chews his cheek. “You know I will look after her. For the sake of the child... Keep this up and I wouldn’t be surprised if she lost it, then how do you think she would cope with that?”

Eric’s face glazes over. A faint shudder in his chest. He backs off almost immediately. “Fine… I want you to call me every hour.”

When he walks away, Clair watches him pinch the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. She takes a deep breath, bending down to Sarah. “Come on. Let’s get you to mine. Careful now.”

 Sarah’s eyes flutter from her position on Clair’s couch. It’s bright, clean and light in the secretary's apartment. But that’s not what wakes her, it is the sound of children.

However groggy she is, she sits up slowly, letting her senses come to. There is a partition wall separating the lounge from the kitchen. In the middle sat a square opening so it was easy to see between the two rooms, and, Sarah guessed, to serve food as well.

As she rounds through a small doorway, there, at a perfectly square table sat Clair’s two children, busying themselves with drawings. The two bright pairs of eyes glance up at her and they still.

“Hello.” Sarah cups her hands, and Clair turns from the sink, smiling quickly.

“Kids, why don’t you go start getting ready for bed?” Jacob, Clair’s son, hugs her quickly and Adrianna is quick to push him, racing each other down towards what she could only fathom as the bedrooms.

“How are you feeling?”

Sarah shrugs, taking in all the personal memorabilia on the walls. One specifically being a family of Erudite. “Are you Erudite?”

“I was. A long time ago.” Clair places the dishcloth on her shoulder. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Clair opens her mouth to respond but the front door swings open with a tall man with bags in each hand. “This is my husband.” She introduces him as he marches over, grabbing Sarah’s hand and roughly shaking it. He doesn’t seem to know his own strength, but however burly, his smile is beaming.

“Greg.”

“I’m Sarah.” Sarah does notice his eyes fall to her stomach, then to Clair questioningly. She watches as he immediately goes to his wife to peck her on the cheek, cooing a sentimental word. In fear of imposing, Sarah looks away till they are finished.

“Nice to meet you. I’ll, um, I’ll get the kids ready for bed.” He nods in parting, the kids giggling when he finds them messing about in their rooms and they shriek in excitement. Sarah’s gut drops. This was normal family life. Two hardworking parents who loved each other. Their kids were beautiful, well-mannered and adored. It stung like salt in a wound that the realization of this possibly being her and Eric was very few and far between.

“Sit down,”  Clair orders, pulling the seat in front of her. “We need to talk.” The chair legs squeak on the floor and the older woman places her hands neatly in front of her. “What Eric did was wrong. He does a lot of things...wrong.”

“I’m well acquainted with him.” Politely she sits, stiffly and altogether cautious of where this was going.

“I’m going to be honest here. When I first met you, I didn't care for you. You were another stranger, a gray walking through our doors.”

“I’m not looking for sympathy.”

“I don’t have sympathy for you. I have sympathy for your child unknowingly being born into this. You knew about Eric.” She points provokingly.

“By that point it was already too late.” Sarah sternly says back, keeping Clair’s eyes that seem so determined to break her.

“Is that what you are going to be saying when Eric one day loses his temper? Are you still going to sit around and hope for the best? ...It’s what you’ve done since you’ve got here…”

“I don’t know whether you are trying to insult me, or aggravate me, or make me feel any more worthless than I do already.”

“I’m trying to teach you…And god damn you do have spirit...you are so stubborn!” Clair rubs her brow furiously and Sarah tries to keep her composure, suddenly feeling presented with her school teacher or being potentially investigated by authority. “I’m trying to teach you that it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“You could lose your job over this, Clair.”

But Clair’s too caught up in her swelling of emotions. “My god, I’m trying to teach you because your own parents are incapable! I don't know why, but I feel responsible for you. You remind me of my daughter.”

Sarah is speechless, she inhales through her nose quickly, peering down to the ground. “I never intended-”

“Stop with the Abnegation shit. Stop pretending that having this baby it will make things suddenly get better. Stop pretending that you can live like this, like a…caged bird all your life. Stop deceiving-”

“I love him!” Sarah stands, her whole body shaking. “I love him…” she says more quietly, trying to grip her furiously trembling hands. “I love him because not everything he does is always bad. I love him for the unguarded, off-duty leader at night when we are alone. The smiles that he doesn’t show anybody. The only person there for me when my sister died, when I really needed someone. He was there.”

“And so is the delicious traps that tempt its prey down from the tree.”

“I want to leave.” Sarah’s crying, rubbing at her face with her sleeves and pacing. “Let me out, I want to leave.”

“Sarah, please, think about it. I’m trying to help you. I know I can help. I know people.” Clair cautiously steps towards her, arms outstretched, waving in comfort. “There is someone I-”

Just the touch of her fingertip and Sarah pushes her away. “Get off of me!” Her voice screeches, causing the older lady to startle backward. “Don't touch me. Don’t come near me… Keep away from me and my baby!”

Greg appears from one of the bedrooms “Is everything okay?” and Clair waves him off.

“I’ll take you back to Eric’s.”

“You will do no such thing. Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m one hundred percent sure I have now outstayed my welcome.” The Abnegation shoves on her boots by the door, grabbing her gray long strapped bag from the floor and placing it over her shoulder before impatiently waiting without a word for Clair to type in the code.

As the golden blonde hair disappears down the corridor, Greg slides his arm across Clair’s shoulders. “You tried.”

“It takes time to come to terms with reality. She’s stubborn and equally afraid. That’s all it is. ”

“Perhaps it’s time to think of a new way.”

Clair narrows her eyes. “...perhaps. But with Eric, we don’t have to do too much.”

 Having not been to Clair’s before, navigating the way home proved tiresome. But once Sarah found herself at a twirling staircase caked in dust and dirt, a place she guessed wasn’t used often, she was fascinated to find it to be a staircase linked to the rooftops that she’d never used before. Sarah’s phone begins vibrating in her pocket, she knows instantly who this is. “Hello, Eric.”

“Stay where you are.”

Sarah pants, her fitness having gone to pot since confined to Dauntless. “...Okay.”

“Why are you out of breath? Why didn’t you go down? Don’t answer that, just stay there.” The phone clicks when he disconnects the call and she puts it back in the annoying gray bag that's hit her hip with every step that she’s taken. Looking up through the middle, there is only one floor left till the roof exit, so she continues up regardless of Eric’s warning. The cold air from outside was dusting down and just gracing her, enough to have her long to feel it for real, against her own skin freely.

The door creaks, slamming closed behind her. The breeze is freezing, sub-zero and biting, instantly stinging her hands and forcing a dry cough from the sudden change in temperature. But from the climb it is a relief, flooding her with awakening endorphins, especially as the sun sets, beaming across her pale skin.

Sarah shuts her eyes; much like she did when it snowed, taking a moment. This was release. In her third eye, she saw herself stepping onto the ledge, arms outstretched and toppling herself forwards. Not hurtling to the ground however, floating, down towards sun-warmed grass. The density soft beneath her feet, far from concrete and ruined buildings.

Boots crunch on the gravel behind her and she lets the smile that had grown, drop, not bothering to face Eric. “Sorry, I just needed-”

“Stiffs shouldn’t go wandering on their own. It’s against the rules.”

Sarah turns so fast she almost loses her footing. “Wayne…” She’s about to ask where Eric is and catches herself, thinking quickly. “If you have come to gloat, go ahead. There is nothing you can say that I don’t already know.”

“Nah…” He runs his tongue along his teeth, stepping closer. “Just getting some air. Funny seeing you here.” Sarah turns her back to him when he becomes too imposing. He keeps shifting behind her till he bumps his chest into her back, and she can feel his breath against her neck. “You still are a beautiful little thing, aren’t you. Really what mother nature intended for natural beauty.” She cringes as a finger paws at the flyaway hair by her ear.

“I have no idea what my sister saw in you…”

“More than you took the time to notice.” When he inhales by her head, Sarah turns, raising her palm to his face. But he catches it, clucking his tongue mockingly. “Why you so mad?”

“You shouldn’t touch me like that. And-and how dare you use my sister. She’s young, and you’re just…” Sarah stammers. “...filth, utter filth.” Becoming suddenly fearful doesn’t help her train of thought. She manages to sidestep him and head back towards the door. She doesn't make it far.

Wayne spins her, pulling her out of the direct line of the door and pushing her against the brick next to it. “Listen you little bitch. I do what I want to do. So what I screwed your sister? She enjoyed it. Maybe, for the hell of it, and for your high-and-mighty attitude, I’ll go back for round two, put my dick in her mouth. I bet she’d let me. In fact, she’d beg me to.”

“Why have you got such a problem with me? Why? What have I ever done to you?”

“You exist. That’s my problem. Prancing around in front of me. Eric under your thumb...nah… I tell you what is funny, though, you always want what you can’t have.” When his hand strokes the top of her arm, Sarah peers down, connecting the dots, a disturbed breath whipping out in a coiling cloud between them. Slowly, she looks up, and he smiles. His mane of hair is falling in front of his face causing him to look all the more maniacal in that moment. The stench of cigarettes is putrid. But still, from somewhere, she finds the confidence to keep her head up.

With quivering lips, Sarah speaks through a tensed jaw, holding back the war of emotions threatening to consume her. “You’re sick.” But he’s too close now, too close to her mouth, his eyes dropping down her body. She whimpers, leaning back against the wall till she could feel the brick scratching her scalp. One hand protectively sits over her bump, the other pushing against his chest. “Don’t.”

“I have to know…”

She can almost feel his lip graze against hers. The thickness to his voice evident in blind desire.

“I have to know what you are like…”

The catch on the door chinks and Wayne turns his head. In that split second, Sarah makes a choice. It feels like in that second, to only seem like a heartbeat.

Half a heartbeat to catch Wayne by surprise. Half a heartbeat to place his hand from her shoulder unknowingly against her breast.

Eric’s bulk fills the doorway and he turns his head, quickly assessing what was in front of him. “What the fuck?”

Sarah ducks, shamefully hiding her face towards the brick wall behind her. Wayne rights himself, clearing his throat and holding up his arms in mercy. “That was not what it looked like.”

“You want to tell me what that looked like?” Eric scans Sarah again when she turns to the casual tone of his voice.

Unusually calm. Unusually collected. Completely deadly.

Wiping at her eyes, Eric holds her gaze a little longer. With her initial step being timid, she begins slipping against the wall till she falls behind him, the dainty fingers gently curling on the arm of his jacket.

However, she doesn't say anything in fear of how weak of a liar she was. Though, most of what Wayne had done was inappropriate, what she had done: necessary.

“You serious, man?” Wayne begins, motioning between them. “I... would not. She forced my hand! Look at her, playing innocent. We were arguing…”

As Wayne continues to attempt to make pathetic excuses, Eric sneers down towards Sarah latched onto his arm. Sarah’s eyes are wide, guarding against Wayne prattling on in front of them, flicking up to his warily

Eric reaches down to his knife on his leg, unsheathing it. “You wouldn’t lie to me, Sarah?” He exhales, juggling the weight of the knife in his hand. Sarah shakes her head, barely able to stand with the air constricting in her lungs.

“He touched me.”

With an effortless flick, the knife invisibly whips through the air, hitting Wayne in his thigh. The cry afterward is deafening and he stumbles immediately to the ground, straining his breath through his teeth.

Eric pushes her back, “Turn around. Face the door. But you don’t leave this fucking roof,” he warns her, stomping off towards Wayne.

Sarah tries to find a happy place to disappear to, but it’s hard when Wayne chants desperately, “What the fuck you doing? What the fuck you doing?!” his voice high and strangled as Eric edges closer. She hears his body dragged from the floor. “All of this over her. Fuck, Eric. I know her type. You know her type. I don’t know what the fuck you see in her, man. She’s just a Stiff. Bang her sister and you’ll know there is no difference. I don’t know why you waste your time.”

“I don’t care what you see in her…”

From where her back is turned, Sarah startles as Wayne screams. It wasn’t a yell or a shout. It was the sheer terror of a man in immense pain. Wayne’s boots thrash against the gravel, his shriek turning into a long sobbing moan.

Against her better judgment, Sarah turns at the audible thud of a body hitting the floor.

Balled like a fetus, Wayne whines loudly, the torrent of blood pulsing down from his face and pooling onto the gravel.   Eric stands with his right hand spread by his side, the entirety of his thumb red, splatters from the force he had used flicked upon his clothing

“...but whatever you did see in her…” Eric continues. “...Will never be the same.”

Sarah thinks of all Wayne’s backhanded comments. The time he slammed her hand down on the cutlery and threatened her. The time he stirred the knowledge of Eric and Nina together to get back at her. Sarah thinks of her sister. Then, for once, of herself.

She would do anything for the ones she loved.

An eye for an eye.