#welppppppp

@xhelenaxleblancx​

There would never be a contest. Could NEVER be a contest. Sera’s biggest regret STILL ate at her TO THIS VERY DAY. Now, okay. She could be all SENTIMENTAL. Be all ILLOGICAL. Say that her biggest regret wasn’t doing something DIFFERENT to avoid her brother’s GRUESOME DEATH. But she wasn’t an IDIOT. Benjamin’s death came out of nowhere. In his own home. What COULD she have done? No. THAT wasn’t her biggest regret. It was just her greatest TRAGEDY. Her biggest REGRET. Was far and away that WAR OF WORDS she had with Helena. The one that ended with Helena BREAKING her hand in SIX different places against a wall of CHIPPED BRICK.The night Sera compared Helena to her own FATHER. Compared Helena to someone who had RAPED HER CONTINUOUSLY for thirteen years straight -- MORE? At threat of raping her little sister if she EVER stepped out of line. A little sister he had BRAINWASHED into an OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE PSYCHOTIC doomed to HELL after failling to live a life of MISERY.

                       (AN OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE PSYCHOTIC WHO HATED HELENA...)

Yeah... Everything about that day HAUNTED HER. The sound of cracking, Helena’s RAGE-FUELED & HEARTBROKEN voice, the sense of her own BETRAYAL of Helena’s TRUST, the sheer BLEEDOVER of Helena’s DESPERATE need to NEVER be like her father... The BEST THING Sera had to say about that day was that it had been an EYE OPENER. She’d finally exposed herself as someone she DIDN’T WANT TO BE. And she’d endeavored since then to be BETTER. (Even if she wasn’t always SUCCESSFUL in that.) BUT. And it was VITAL but. But Sera should NEVER have NEEDED to see Helena BREAK DOWN so badly to reach this realization. Should have always KNOWN that saying shit she DIDN’T MEAN to protect her own FRAGILE EGO was a PATHETIC way to live. And in all honesty she was STILL striving to redeem herself in BOTH of their eyes.

Who was he destined to be when he got born? A son of a wealthy married couple with high influence, an only child who would follow in his father's footsteps once he was old enough and lead on the family's success. Perhaps he would get married, of course to a woman as a homosexual couple in such business was unthought of and he most likely would never be able to love her with every vibre of his being. A fake life, a fake smile, a fake attitude. Manners, strictness, ambition.

The latter traits he had kept until now, though not quite in the way they were required at the place he got born into.

A childhood he never had, obligations and rules but now he could create his own.

He was destined to be a rich man who would grow old with loneliness in his soul, bitterness in his heart. Money, a wife, possibly children to reassure the preservation of the Justines' business.

Yes, at times Freed wished that he would have a different childhood, that he would have grown up under different circumstances than the ones he actually experienced. Perhaps, if he got born into a different status, then things would have developed in a better way. Perhaps he would have learned way earlier what a true family and sincere happiness are, what it's like to have friends and that there are people who don't judge you for what you liked, could do or wanted to be.

Perhaps he wouldn't have taken people's lives, perhaps he would be able to live without certain struggles he faced mostly inwardly.

He wanted to grow old gracefully and die happy.

But what if this different way would have never brought him here? What if he never met these people, the ones he kept dear, the ones he would sacrifice his own life for? The ones who did teach him what love and a family is after all? Fairy Tail, his friends outside of the guild, Evergreen, Bixlow, Laxus... He found friends. He found family. He found true love.

He wasn't alone and not lonely anymore. He learned a lot, got wiser and stronger and became a man with valuable traits even though it did not make up for his severe mistakes. He was not innocent nor would he ever be but he had pride, honesty and care in his heart and attempted his best to keep his life in a positive light even though darkness would always be part of his being.

Everyone made mistakes, everyone had their own doubts and struggles... And although he wished he could change certain aspects he would not want to go back completely and start and entirely new life.

                                     "I believe that this wish is one that has crossed every individual’s mind at least once. It sounds tempting, without doubt. But in the end I would not want to risk losing what I have in the here and now, in the present...even though the past has left its permanent marks."

    there’s something about the way she speaks to him, the way she touches him that is ever so gentle and light and completely contradictory to everything that she does. He never thought he’d see such kindness and affection from a soldier like Carolina, not to say that she shouldn’t be feeling the way she is and acting the way she has but some soldiers that have been through something as close to where the agent has been tend to take years until they can develop out of the confines they have built and barricaded themselves in. A fortress to keep everyone out and away so that they wouldn’t have to feel pain ever again and fall victim to the demons they’ve worked so hard to vanquish yet, this woman is different.

    Carolina is so different that he’s still having trouble wrapping his head around their relationship, and why did she chose him from the litter of far more adept, and courageous soldiers. Even he assumed that she had fancied Kimball but maybe it was his silent hunch and subtle communication in the way he spoke through words and body language that showed his calm behaviour when he knew that she had taken a liking to him after many conversations that made Carolina decide that she could get used to talking to him. What were casual conversations turned into attending various meetings together, parties, spending breakfast, lunch and dinner together. They kind of just clicked and he was perfectly happy with the way things turned out. Nothing was ever forced, and when it was Carolina’s turn to drop subtle hints that she knew he was confused about his feelings towards her, but accepting at the same time she gave him time to think it over, left an appropriate amount of space for him to not feel smothered and eventually he decided: yes.

    yes he could move on from his own fears, and doubts, and constant hesitation. Since he too had his own demons much like Carolina. It turned out that they weren’t so different but, sometimes he still gets confused because he was Doyle, and she was Carolina. They weren’t supposed to be but they were and it was nice, and when Carolina speaks of her time within Project Freelancer it feels like it’s been centuries and for her, probably longer to make the choices she had and heal the way she had chosen to. Maybe she’s still healing, or maybe she’s already healed and accepted that somethings are just meant to be the way it is. Sometimes it’s confusing, but it’s a happy confusion that makes him jumps slightly at the contact when she places a peck on his helmet’s cheek, even if isn’t skin on skin. A smile is quick to form underneath his visor and a hand reaches up to lightly trace the imprint of lips. His fingers graze at the mark lightly and his eyes follow her as she heads out the door. Waving, and calling out to her he grabbed his data pad and followed after.

There are ingredients scattered everywhere, and she doesn’t really know why there’s a patch of flour near the door to living room, but it’s large and there are other matching ones closer to them.

“Aw, don’t say that! You have to be positive, or you’ll suck even worse.” Kira’s eyes grow, gleamy and pleading, and they’re all over Malia’s business, almost suffocatingly sweet—she should’ve known she didn’t stand a chance right when she entered the kitchen five minutes ago. “Pretty please?” The girl smiles, holding a bowl full of sugar, butter and egg yolk against her belly.

Malia sighs, rolling her eyes, “Fine. But if I’m bad at it I’m not staying.” She agrees begrudgingly, arms crossed just under her chest. “And if I stay I want at least ten cookies.”

Kira grins victoriously, lifting herself on the tip of her fingers and kissing Malia’s cheek briefly, “Yes!” The girl cheers, starting to scan through the bottles and bowls in front of them, “And you can keep everything you bake, of course.” She starts, “I'd sell them… They’re a good way of getting through college. But it’s up to you.” Kira shrugs, feigning disinterest as she grabs the small bottle of vanilla essence, leaving her bowl on the sink as well. “Grab the milk for me, please?”

“I'm not selling cookies with you. I already have a job down at the library.” Malia reminds her, stretching forward just a little and fetching Kira the bottle of milk.

Kira pouts, putting some milk in a mug, “But you’re always so tired. And everybody likes it when you show up at the stand with me. They think you’re funny.” She argues, pouring milk inside the mixing bowl now, “Flour?”

“I'm not always tired,” Malia frowns, easily extending an arm over Kira's shoulder and getting the flour bag, “And I can’t bake.”  

“You’ve never tried, you don’t know that for sure.” Kira drops what Malia assumes are excessive amounts of flower into the bowl, grabbing her wooden spoon from an empty plate. “Plus, I can teach you… and you won’t have to wake me up so early when you’re going to the library everyday.” She catches her bottom lip in between she teeth, tilting her head nonchalantly.

Malia narrows her eyes, pausing for a bit. Kira mixes the ingredients like a pro, but she’s got an ear out for what Malia has to say, expectant. “That's what this is about? Waking you up early in the morning?”  

Kira sighs, shooting Malia sweet eyes all over again, “I'm sorry, I just can’t sleep anymore after you leave, and I think it’s starting to get to me.” She grimaces apologetically, “I mean, I know how sorry you are, too, because of… the thing you do sometimes…” Kira trails off, cheeks burning bright, “And it’s great, really! But I still can’t sleep after it.”

Malia’s laughter comes out in a huff as she grabs her girlfriend by the waist, “That's not why I go down on you sometimes.” She shrugs, “I like doing it in the mornings. And you’re already right there, agreeing with me, so it works.”

“Oh.” The girl whispers. “Okay, then. But I still need to sleep. And the cookies are really good money! Plus, we can make our own schedules that don’t involve anyone being up at six everyday.” Kira threads her fingers together, the way she does when she’s nervous, and Malia stares silently. She swears Kira’s eyes are growing, and growing until lets her head fall back, defeat rushing through her.

“Oh my god, okay! I’ll bake cookies with you.” She sighs, shoulders slumping, even with the small touch of victory beaming somewhere inside here. C’mon, she doesn’t exactly love to wake up at six—nor the library itself, for the matter.

“Really? Oh my god!” Kira squeals, delighted, and pulls on Malia’s shirt three times. Her smile shrinks after a few beats, though, as she holds her excitement back, “Wait, are you only doing it for me? Because you totally don’t have to.”

Malia shrugs again, inching closer just because Kira’s happiness is that contagious, “It’s a library at six in the morning. I’m good.”

Kira laughs quietly, kissing Malia right under her chin, “We can start now.” She whispers, kissing next to her girlfriend’s throat this time. Malia feels herself shiver, the back of her neck starting to heat up—and just like that she feels the curve of the mixing bowl touching her stomach. “You’ll just mix now. Next round you get to actually put the ingredients in, okay?”