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eeunoia · 3 years

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ENHYPEN Mini Series

E N H Y P E N as Vampires

pairings: jake sim x reader

summary: having all eternity to live on, Jake find it lonely to be all alone not until he set eyes over at you.

word count: 5k

warnings: suicide

a/n: Jake’s one shot was a little short but I hope it’s still okay. My recent works had received so much love from you guys! Thank you so much and I love you guys so much! Have a great day. 🌸 (Taglist still open!)

taglist: @rubyanne, @izneos, @jung-breadshop @llamabouquet @eterniki @hwangjangmi @full-sannie @danyxthirstae01 @flowerjaem @dreamykkoo @crjwon

“Go to hell, y/n!” I shut my eyes tightly as something hit my back hardly when my step sister started throwing things towards me.

I just turned 18 and now they’re trying to kick me out of from the house my Dad had left us. Well, my Mom died when I was just 9 years old. My father got so lonely because of her and he thought I was feeling the same way so he decided to re-marry.

He married my Step-mother four years ago. She have one daughter and they weren’t that nice to me. She just treat me nicely whenever my Dad is around, and now that he left me too. I have nobody else beside me. I’m all alone.

I cried silently as I tried picking up my things that were now scattered all over the floor. My step-mother starred down right at me with no sympathy. Beside her was my step-sister whose smirking widely while watching me suffer. I bet they’ve waited long for this to happen, to get rid of me.

After getting all of my stuff, I started walking directionless. Like a lifeless human, I was walking mindlessly. I don’t know where to go or even what to do. It will be night soon and I don’t think it will be too nice for a young girl to be all alone out here.

I gulped and quickly search for my phone. Delighted to see that there was still a little battery left, I gulped dialing someone.

“Who’s this?” I gulped feeling thrilled that she actually picked up.

“It’s me y/n.” I bit my lower lip and I heard her heavy sigh right away.

We weren’t close and maybe she’s even annoyed that I gave her a ring but I don’t have anyone else to call. My hand automatically made its way over to my lips as I started biting my fingernails.

“Why did you call me?”

“U-Uhh.. I don’t have anywhere else to go. My step mother kicked me out and--”

“And you’re calling me right now because? Hey, not because i’m the class president you're allowed to do this.” she sounded so sarcastic and annoyed at the same time.

You were silent for a while. You can’t fully blame her, to be called out of nowhere by someone you’re not close with will definitely weird and creepy. Not to mention that you’re one of the most bullied students in your class.

“Can you p-please help me out? Just this o-once. I just don’t know what to do anymore.” you’re mind are all messed up. No thoughts at all, the fact that you’ve been kicked out from the house where you spent your whole life with was still not sinking in to you.

Your eyes can’t even produce any tears at the moment. You feel like you’ve been crying too much that you actually got tired of it.

A sigh from the other line was heard and it pulled you back to reality, “What do you need?”

“C-Can I stay with you? Even in just a few--”

“What? No way! Don’t you have anyone else?” she sounded more irritated. Feeling more anxious about it, you gulped.

“I have nobody else.” you’re voice sounded so low and lifeless. Having nothing else to push you to live anymore, your last resort was to just take your own life.

“Ugh, why do you have to be a sore loser?” you bit your lower lip trying to ignore her rude comment. You have no one else who can take you in for a few days while you look for a job.

“Fine. Just go here.” and she dropped the call right away.

A small smile actually spreads through your face as you headed towards her apartment. Finally feeling like you’re starting to make a change in your life, you plot some plans inside your head. Things you need to do in order to live a better life.

As you arrive at her place, you knocked and waited patiently for her to open the door for you. With an unpleased look, she faced you and lets you inside.

She didn’t even ask if you’re okay or anything. Despite the bruises all over your body, she ignored it and just guided you to a vacant room. It was dusty and unorganized but you can’t complain. You should even be grateful she lets you be here for a few days.

“3-4 days maximum.” she reminded you before going out of the room.

You nodded your head even after she left and roamed your eyes around. Letting out a heavy sigh, you started arranging things so you can fix the bed and maybe get ready for sleep. You can feel your stomach grumbling out of hunger but you ignored it completely. You have no money to buy any food and you don’t want to trouble your class president for food as well. It would be too much hindrance for her.

You slept with an empty stomach that night so when you woke up the next day, you kind of don’t have any strength. When you went out, you saw a note over at the table saying she left some food and some spare keys.

Feeling thankful about it, you had breakfast and made sure you’ll thank her later on. When you arrived school, your step-sister was already there smirking at you. You tried hard avoiding her and just straightly went to your seat at the back.

The students around were starring at you for a bit while and even whispering with each other. Seems like your step-sister had announced at the whole class that you’ve been kicked out from your house. You were wondering what kind of false rumors did she create this time.

“It’s Jake!” your head snapped right over at the door when the girls inside your class got so excited about someone.

Jake Sim. Your eyes settled at the handsome boy who entered the class smiling. He was really attractive and almost the whole class likes him, including your step-sister. She was crazy for him.

You can’t blame her since he was really gorgeous. He’s nice too, always wearing a smile and kind to everybody. But theres just one thing that you’ve noticed with him. His eyes looked dead sometimes. Like even if he’s smiling, his eyes were lifeless.

You jolted a bit when both of your eyes met each other. With light red tinted over your face, you quickly looked away. This isn’t the right time to have a crush on somebody, y/n! You’ve got to find a job first.

After the bell rang, indicating that the class had finished, you hurried yourself out avoiding students. You’re determined to go and look for a job to support your needs.

The whole time remaining, you just tried looking for a job but no luck. You went back disappointed and trying hard to convince yourself that you can try and find for another one tomorrow.

The next days were just the same for you. It was no luck, you feel like you’re step-mother were starting to meddle with it as well. And also, lately, you’ve noticed Jake’s stares over at you during classes. He never done that before, but it was often these past two days. You don’t want to sound assuming or anything but that’s just how you noticed it.

The third day of hunting for a job, it was also a failure. With a heavy heart you trailed over at the quiet street of your town. It was 9pm, almost 10. Less people can be seen outside. After some rumors about the missing persons, people in your town started to be more careful.

Your feet brought you over a bridge. You starred right over at it mindlessly. Mind completely blank with thoughts, your mind wondered over those timed when you’re still happy. When you’re Mom was still there, back when you still have someone to lean on.

For the first time in days, you felt your eyes teared up. The image of your Mom that were always so clear for you flashed back right in your mind. Her comforting smile and warm hugs, you sure miss them the most. You cried silently while walking towards the edge of the bridge. You starred right down, it was the cold river.

With eyes full of tears, you roamed them around trying to check if somebody else was there. You wiped off your tears and started climbing over it. You have no will to live anymore so you just decided to take your own life.

Trembling a bit while standing at the other side of the bridge, you starred right down beneath you. The water looked so cold and dark. Feels like you’ll die right away once you jumped down.

Having just both of your two hands and the little space your stepping on as the only things that keeping you alive, you started battling with your own mind. Being completely confused, tired and lifeless, you really wanted to jump off.

“What are you doing?” your eyes snapped open and looked over at your right.

You gulped, eyes grew a bit at the sight of somebody in front of you. He was starring right at your eyes and you saw how cold his eyes were again.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him back emphasizing the you at him. Jake pursed his shoulders and even leaned over at the railings of the bridge beside you.

He’s acting like as if you were not at the other side and life’s in danger.

“Taking a stroll.” he casually answered.

“At this time?” you asked doubting him.

He smiled a little after nodding his head at you, “How about you? What are you doing? Are you gonna jump off?” he asked and starred down over the river.

You gulped, “N-Nothing.” if anything, you don’t want to cause trouble to anybody else.

He chuckled lightly, “Doesn’t seem like nothing to me.” he tilted his head then eyed you back.

“You’re planning to kill yourself, aren’t ya?” he asked, his accent popping a bit. You gulped, guilty. You were silent because one, he knows. Two, he still look gorgeous even if it’s dark already. The only light you guys have was the one from the bright moon.

“I don’t have any will to live in this cruel world.” your voice were low. The wind blew right towards at both you but you saw how he starred right over at your eyes.

There was a moment of silence before he lets out a sigh, “This world sure is cruel.” he agreed.

For the first time, somebody agreed with you. A small smile appeared over at your lips as you felt your heart races a bit. You don’t know if he’s really agreeing with you or he’s just really kind. Because honestly, there's nothing you can think of a reason why he’ll think this world is cruel for him. It seems like he already have everything and that his life was perfect.

“But if you live in it in a different way, it’ll change.” he muttered meaningful and he starred right at you once again, eyes piercing.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You don’t get what he just said but even before you can ask him, he pulled out something from behind. It was tumblr?

He handed it over at you with a sweet smile. “What is this?” you asked, one hand holding over at the railing as the other accepted what he handed over. The space that you’re stepping over was enough to keep you steady but you're still holding on over at the steel railing.

“Wine. Might as well have some of that before dying right?” he smirked right at you.

Wondering a bit because of what he just said you looked at him with full confusion, he chuckled opening the lid for you.

“If you drink that, I won’t say any word about what I saw today.” he said smiling at you.

Biting your lower lip, you decided to do what he just said. Taking a sip, you groaned a bit finding it a bit strange. Having your eyes shut, you didn’t notice how Jake’s eyes turned red out of excitement just by looking at you drinking what he just gave you.

“Do as you promised.” you said after putting the almost empty bottle over at the railing.

You wiped over the corner of your lips and saw the familiar red color of wine. After having a sip from that drink, you kind of became more brave to do what you just planned moments ago.

Jake stood just beside you from the other side of the bridge. He watch how sorrow took over your eyes, tears streaming over your eyes. He hates it. All of it. He hates how people were so cruel to you, how you punish yourself from it and how you still try to keep a smile even after being treated badly by this world.

His face turned serious as he watch you slowly let go from the railing, body falling right over the cold river. He starred over as your body collided at the surface of the water.

He was sure it would take your life. A loss from the human world and a gain to his. With a smirk, he put his hands inside his pocket as he heads down over the river.

He roamed his eyes that quickly turned red and went over the water to go look for your body. He found you pretty much faster than expected, your face was full of bruises and probably broken bones. He gently placed his fingers over at your wrist to check your pulse.

He pulled you out and carried you bridal style, slowly he lets your body over the grass beside the cold river. The silent night even made it more colder but it doesn’t matter because Jake wasn’t even a living person so the cold is nothing to him anymore.

Jake’s eyes turned red as his fangs slowly showed as he leaned closer. A smirk spread right into his face as he felt no heartbeat coming from you. This world had lost you but now he have you for him, all for him.

Jake buried his fangs over your neck and drink from your blood, making all over his veins get too excited.

He leaned away starring right over at your unconscious body. He smirked, wiping off some blood dripping out from his mouth, “You’re gonna be with me forever, y/n.”

Your eyelids felt a little heavy as you open them slowly. An unfamiliar ceiling greeted you that made you furrowed your brows a little. You were confused where you were so you stood up.

You roamed your eyes around at the place. It looked elegant and cozy at the same time. Head aching a bit, your hand rested over at your temple as you try to remember the previous things that happened that can help you to know where you are.

Your eyes quickly snapped open when you remember yourself jumping off from the bridge. You starred right over your arms and you saw them completely fine, both of your legs were fine as well. There's no trace of signs that you’ve committed suicide.

It was so strange because you were so sure that you jumped off. Feeling completely confused, you ran your hands over at your hair and to your surprised, they grew a bit longer. Your eyes then notice how more pale you became.

“I see you’re awake now.” your head snapped over at the corner when you heard somebody talked.

“J-Jake?” you muttered his name.

He smiled sweetly at you. To your surprised it didn’t look so lifeless anymore. It looked livelier for some reason.

Oh right! Jake was there too! He watched you jumped off the bridge. Is he the one who saved you?

He slowly walked closer to you and sat down over at the edge of the bed. You looked at him, a lot of questions were already inside your mind.

“Let me see your eyes,” his voice sound so calm. You furrowed your brows as he leaned closer.

You felt this tingling inside your stomach as he smiled in satisfaction in front of you, “Beautiful.” he mumbled that made you flustered.

Did he just said beautiful?

“Do you feel hungry?” he asked like it's just normal for you to be here inside wherever this is.

“Did you save me?”

He starred at your eyes and he smiled. “You jumped, remember?”

You nodded your head because that’s clearly what you remembered. He nodded as well as he looked over your arms then back over at your face.

“Do you know anyone who lived right after trying to jump off from that bridge?”

You pursed your lips and shake your head no. In the cases you’ve known from your town, nobody ever lived after jumping off. So... why?

“Then... how?” you looked at him anticipating of any answers.

He smiled, hand stretched out over at you. He brushed away some hairs from your face and hung them over your ears. You were pretty sure you were flushed, but for some funny reason, you can’t feel any warmth from your body.

“You said you have no will to live anymore and that the world were so cruel.” he started, you nodded listening to him. He was right about that, even if its a bit blurry, you can still remember saying that to him.

“I told you if you lived it in a different way, it wouldn’t be so cruel. I just did you a favor.” he explained but you were still clueless about the things that were currently.

“I don’t understand.”

He smiled and stood up then walked towards the side table just beside the bed you were tucked in.

“Are you hungry?” he asked while holding something.

You didn’t talk, you actually don’t know. At the moment, you were confused and doesn’t feel anything.

But you felt the sudden hunger the moment he open the lid of the container he was holding. Letting out a small chuckle, Jake walk back to the bed.

“Ahh, I can’t get over with how beautiful you look, y/n. What to do? I think I found my obsession.” he muttered eyes fixed over at you.

You blushed hardly because of what he just said but quickly got distracted over the thing he was holding. The closer he gets, the hungrier you get.

When he hand it over to you, your brows furrowed at the sight of a red liquid inside.

“W-What is this?”

“I figured your body won’t take somebody else’s blood since it's still adjusting so i’ll be your blood bank for the mean time.”

You were stunned at your position when you heard about it. It is blood. Fresh blood of Jake. Why does it smelled so good? It make you drool in hunger.

“Am I...?”

You’ve heard about those things before. They were often became topics specially lately because of the sudden missing people over at your town.

Jake sat close to you, “Yeah, a vampire.”

Your hand lowered letting the cup rest over your thigh, you almost lose your mind. You don’t want to believe it but what else can explain the reason why you’re still here breathing when you jumped off a freaking bridge?

“B-But why? I told you I wanted to die.”

“Well, basically you’re already dead.”

You looked at him, frustrated. Okay, you are dead but that doesn’t even make sense! You're seem like you’re still alive. Breathing, but dead.

“You don’t understand, Jake. I wanted to die because I don’t want to be here. I have nobody else with me.”

His face turned serious and you’re not gonna lie, you somehow felt intimidated when that soft smile vanished from his face.

“Then what do you call me, baby? I’m here for you.” he said softly hand raised over to cup your face.

“Life’s been cruel to you and you were too good for that world.” his eyes turned red and you don’t know but they looked so pretty.

Two sharp fangs showed over from his lips as he smiled at you. Your mouth fell, right now, Jake looked really out of this world. You never know vampires can look this good. The books you used to read never told you they look this attractive.

“Now that I have you, I’ll make sure you won’t suffer anymore. Be with me,”

“Why me?”

Out of all the girls who were giving him attention, why you?

“Why not you?” he said starring right over at your eyes.

You were stunned, silent after he answered that to you.

He leaned closer to you, lips touching your cheeks lightly then over at your ears. It sent shivers over at your whole body but you loved it. Jake’s effect over at you, you enjoyed it.

“I’ll be here for you, y/n.” he whispered.

You gulped, lowering your head as you shut your eyes tightly.

“O-okay.” you answered.

Jake smirked, “That's my girl.”

You’ve noticed some changes from your physical appearance and even at some aspects of your personality. You’re not that anxious anymore, confidence filled you up for some reasons. It isn’t a bad thing.

You trailed over the empty hallway of your school. Classes already started so you’re now heading over your classroom. You’ve learnt that you’ve skipped school for 3 days already.

Arriving at the entrance of the room, heads turned towards your direction. Looking directly over your teacher, you smiled right at her. She was furrowing her brows while trying to determine who you are.

“Is that... y/n?” you heard one of your classmates whispered.

“I’m sorry for being late, Ms. Choi.” and you even bowed at her.

She looked dumbfounded looking right at you. She doesn’t know how to exactly describe but something changed.

“U-Uh... Ms. Y/n--”

Your teacher can’t even finish what she was about to say when a hand wrapped over your shoulder.

“Sorry for being late, Ms. Choi. We kind of had some problem on our way here.” Jake suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

You blushed but kept still. You were used to Jake’s affection. He’s such a loving person. He took care of you and you never felt that way ever since you’re Dad died.

“It’s o-okay, Mr. Sim. You two can sit now.” she said. The class were still silent as they were very shock at what’s happening right now.

Your eyes traveled over the students inside. They were looking at you in a different way, not in the way how they used to back when they’re still bullying you. Some of them looked at you with confusion, some with desire and some with fear.

You chuckled softly, starring at their pathetic faces. Specially your step sister, her eyes were a bit bigger than usuall.

“Y/n, right here baby.” Jake called you out. You nodded and turned your head towards him. As the teacher gets back to where she was interrupted, you sat down beside him.

Jake rested his hand over at the back rest of your chair. His hands started drawing small lazy circles over your other arm.

He leaned closer, “Did you see their faces?” he whispered at you dropping a kiss over at your shoulder before he leaned away.

You smirked nodding your head as you turned over at him. “They were so surprise.”

He chuckled, “Who wouldn’t be surprise? My girl looked so beautiful.” he said while facing the front. You blushed and you saw how his ears turned a bit red too. You chuckled and just tried focusing at the lesson.

As time pass by, you started to get more dizzy. “I’m dizzy.” you mumbled softly.

“You hungry?”

You looked over at him and slowly nodded your head. He chuckled finding you cute. He rummages over his things and pull out a tumblr. The same tumblr he handed you that night.

He brushed away some hair away from your face, “Take it easy with you in-take of blood.” he whispered after dropping a kiss over at your forehead.

You started drinking from the bottle and felt yourself getting much better. The class continued with you having your meal. Jake find you cute while you enjoy it so much.

When the classes were finally over, Jake and you headed outside the school hand in hand. Students followed both of you with stares full of curiosity.

“Uh, you should go on Jake. I’ll just go to the class president because of my things I left at her place.” you told him.

He nodded his head at you, “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

You smiled at her before nodding your head. When you saw him walked away, you started to walk back inside the campus to go and look for the class president. You did find her pretty fast. She was with your step sister and some from their circle of friends.

“Class president.” you called her out. They looked over you in unison and they looked surprised once again.

“oh y/n!” unlike before, she doesn’t look irritated by your presence. Your step sister was lowering her head as well, trying to avoid eye-contact.

“I’m just gonna inform you that I’ll be getting my stuff at your place later. Thank you for letting me stay.” I said smiling. Well even if she acted annoyed, I can’t deny that she was nice enough to keep me in.

“H-Huh? Why? You know what, I actually felt alone. You c-can stay if you want.”

You starred right at her eyes. Lies. It doesn’t look so sincere like how Jake’s eyes sparkles whenever he talks with you. He was so sincere with everything, warmth taking over you once he started comforting you.

You smiled a little, “Nah, it's fine. I already have a place to stay.”

“Where were you these past days? We w-were looking for y-you!” she said. Again, you can’t feel anything from her.

“I jumped off a bridge.” you straightly told her. She was dumbfounded as well as the other girls that were with her.

After seconds of silence, you chuckled. “I was kidding. Jake kept me in.”

They gulped and obvious envy were over their faces. You sighed and decided you should go on. As you turn around, you felt somebody held your arm.

“Y/n, Mom said you s-should go home.”

You slowly faced her then your eyes trailed over to her hand that was holding you. Her eyes weren’t blank and doesn’t look so rude like always. You were stunned and can’t talk for a while. You don’t know what to response to her.

Even before you can talk, a hand brushes away her hold off from you. A hand instantly held your waist and pulled you closer to his body.

“Her home now is with me.” Jake said and you felt that familiar comfort that you’ve never felt for so long.

Jake guided you away from and you went along without saying a word.

Weeks passed by with Jake and you’ve been very happy with him. He introduced you to this amazing world he have. Days with Jake was never boring and full of surprises. He clearly made you happy.

You let out a loud breath while you felt his soft fingers caressing your arms while you’re both snuggling close to each other.

You’re both enjoying the silence between you while laying down to your bed.

“How did you turn me again, Jake?” you were curious.

“The wine I offered you that night have my blood in it.” he chuckled remembering what he just did back then.

“Why do you have a thing like that with you while strolling around?” you turn over and rested your hand over at his chest while you lay your head over it. You looked over to Jake and he have this smirk right over his face.

“I was following you around for days and I figured I should be prepared once I saw an opportunity to give you that drink.” he said.

“So you do wanted to turn me.”

“Yeah. You thought I was kidding when I said that?” he raised an eyebrow at you. With a chuckle you nodded your head.

“Jake, I’ve always noticed your eyes were cold before. Why?”

He kept his smile while starring right at you, he sighed then gently brush away some strands from your face.

“You know, not everyone is fond of living forever. I’ve never found somebody who’s willing to stay with me. I was born as a vampire and I felt so alone.” He sound so sad that you actually felt bad for him.

“When I saw you, I knew I wanted you. I told myself I’ll take it slow and won’t force you. But when I saw you struggle in this life and really planned to take your life, I became selfish.” his eyes turned red as he starred lovingly at you.

You gulped cupping his face. “What if I told you I don’t want this?”

You saw pain over his eyes as he held your hand that was holding his face. With soft kiss, he showered your hands with it. “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know if I can let you go.”

You pursed your lips, “I’m all alone in my life too, Jake.” you said and he opened his eyes to look at you.

With affection, your eyes turned red as you leaned closer to his face. “But now that you’re here, I have a home I can call mine. I have a person I can be with forever.” you mumbled and he leaned closer as well for a kiss.

“I love you,” you mumbled.

“I love you, y/n.”

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years

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Second Best

summary: you and Harry meet at a party, but he seems to take more interest in your sister than in you, and you won't be Second Best.

author’s note: bonjour mes chéris!! this is the first instalment of hannah being the history/french student she is and merging all three of her worlds and creating her own little fictional one. this is based off of lousia may alcott’s little women (one of may favourite books ever) but with my own little twist on it. this is set in the 1860′s during the civil war but i haven't made it too historical at all. i have done all of the translations myself and even though i'm semi-fluent i still make mistakes so if you spot any let me know. this is so long so i'll shut up now, thanks for all the support bye!! <3

word count: 16k of good old fashioned marriage talk (there’s a lot of it, its all they spoke about tbf??), fluff, angst and a lil’ smut. there is marriage and children at the end (woo, exciting!) not proofread because my eyes are already asleep.

masterlist | speak to me about second best here!

“Stand up straight, don’t slouch. You have a tendency to do so, and these people will not tolerate it.” You sister, Lizzie, says as she pushes her arm between yours, walking you towards the fancy house in front of the two of you, “Whatever you do, don’t speak about your art at all. Nobody can stop you once you’ve started. Do speak if you’re spoken too, and if you’re asked to dance, dance.”

You shake your head, “But I don’t want to dance.”

“You will dance.” Lizzie says again, squeezing your arm slightly, “You may find yourself a husband if you act proper enough.”

“I shouldn’t have to act proper just to find a husband, Lizzie.” You scoff, shaking your head, “If they don’t love me, oil paints and all, then I don’t want them. I don’t think I’ll ever find a husband.”

“Oh shush with you.” She says, tapping your arm slightly. It didn’t hurt, but it did cause your lips to part in shock, “How lovely would it be if father returned and you were married! It would make his life.”

“I think he’d have a heart attack.” You mutter, removing your arm from around hers as you stand outside of the door you were going to walk through in mere minutes, “I’m his little girl, you are also, Lizzie. If we were both to be married I’d think we’d kill him off.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that.”

“I’m not joking. I truly believe that would happen.” You deadpan.

She scoffs and slips her arm through yours this time, using her free hand to ring the bell. A man wearing one of the fanciest suits you’ve ever seen in your life opens the door, allowing the two of you to slip through. You help Lizzie remove her shawl, whilst she does the same to you. The man hangs them up amongst the array of other jackets. You lips part in shock at the sight of the house you were in, the first thing your eyes falling upon being the large staircase, with paintings littering the walls. For once, you were speechless, unable to control your excitement and want to gawk at the art upon the wall.

“Lizzie!” You gasp, gripping her arm tightly, “Look at the—”

“Don’t you dare say paintings!”

“Lizzie!” You groan again, pulling her arm so that she’s looking your direction, “Look at them.”

“I’m looking at them.” She lifts her eyes to look at the wall you were looking at, where the pieces hung with such grace and elegance, “They don’t seem too spectacular.”

A shocked gasp escapes your lips, “Take that back, Lizzie! They are beautiful!

“If you say so.”

She removes you from your awe of the paintings and pulls you towards the ballroom. There’s people everywhere, the most amount of people you think you’ve ever seen in your life. You watch as they mingle with glasses of Champagne in their hands, the expensive material of their dresses sparkling in the light from the chandelier. Men stood wooing the women before them, flicking their suit jackets and inviting them to dance. The dresses the women were wearing were something out of dreams. You weren’t the biggest fan of dresses, in fact, you lived in trousers around the house, but you couldn’t help feeling embarrassed about your tattered dress. You’ve had the dress for a year or so, and the holes and rips and anything else you’d manage to do to the material could be seen in the light even if you’d fixed it.

“Lizzie!” The call comes from somebody who you don’t recognise, but Elizabeth certainly did and before the syllables of her name could escape your lips, she’s gone. You watch as your sisters whisked away with the crowd, leaving you stood there with no clue as to what to do.

Gripping the material of your dress, you slip yourself to stand by one of the doorways, away from the hustle and bustle of everyone in the room, but close enough for you to be able to watch. Lizzie stands in the middle, just as she always is, with a group of people around her. She was always the centre of attention, the one that everyone loved — you included. You were only a few years younger than her, but you were the only siblings each of you had, so you were close. You had your disagreements, that was certain, but you always came back stronger. You weren’t shocked when you noticed her spinning around holding some man’s hand, dancing away with a smile on her face that always made your insides happy. If she was happy, you were happy.

“Not one for dancing?” You eyes almost bulge out of your head as you hear a voice next to you, a male one at that.

“Oh, um, not really.” You laugh, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I’m not a very good dancer. I don’t really like dancing, to be completely honest.”

“Everyone loves dancing.” The man says, and you’re able to get a good look at him. A black suit, with a crisp-white shirt sits upon his torso. His hair was a fluffy brown, a chestnut that you found yourself in awe of. His green eyes ones of masterpieces, better than any art you could ever see upon any wall in any gallery, “I believe you are just lying.”

“I am not.” You shake you head, “My sister told me that if anyone asked me to dance I must say yes, but I have decided that I mustn’t. I have two left feet and anyone who is to ever dance with me will regret it, I know of it.”

“I highly doubt that.” He shakes his head, sipping from the glass he had in his hand, “Your sister shouldn’t force you do dance either.”

“Oh.” You shake your head, “Lizzie isn’t forcing me to dance, she just wants the best for me. Dancing is how people meet.”

“It’s how we met.” He says after a few seconds.

You let out a small chuckle, running your tongue over your lips slightly, “Sir, pardon me, but I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry.” He smiles, “M’names Harry.”

“Oh!” You exclaim again, “Harry Styles! You’ve just moved in next door with your father! Mother saw you the other day.”

“You must be—”

“—YN YLN.” You hold your hand out for him to shake, immediately shaking your head and pulling it back, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, Lizzie forgot to remind me to not shake hands. It’s not very ladylike, I know.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” He holds his hand out, and you bite your lip and shake it, “And please don’t call me Mr. Styles. I’m not my father. Call me Harry.”

“Harry.” The name slips from your lips, “I think Lizzie would die if she saw me talking to you.”

“If I may, would you show me Lizzie?” He asks and you nod.

You nod and turn back to the crowd, fluttering your eyes across all of the people in hopes to spot your sister. She was wearing red, the colour which suited her the most in your opinion, so she wasn’t too hard to spot. She was dancing in the middle of the room with a man with blonde hair, a suit similar to the one that Harry was wearing upon his body. She looked happy, and the sight caused a smile to flutter across your lips.

“She’s in the middle there.” You say, nodding your head in the girls direction, “The one in the red dress.”

You turn to look at Harry and once his eyes fall upon your sister, you can tell that the whole world stops around him. His lips part, his eyes widen and if you look closely you can see the reflection of the red dress in his eyes. You’re unsure how long he’s staring at her, but you’re staring at him for the exact same amount of time.

“It’s a. . .” He fumbles with his words after a few seconds, lifting his hands to scratch the back of his neck, “It’s a beautiful dress.”

“It is.” You agree, “Mother let her save up her allowance to buy the material. I should’ve done the same but I spent mine on paints.”

“You paint?” His raises his eyebrow, finally looking back at you.

You nod, “I love to.”

“Then you have every right to spend your money on paints.” He says, and you try to hide the heat that falls upon your cheeks, “You dress is perfectly swell

“It’s not beautiful though.”

“It’s swell, YN.” He reminds you again, “I’m sure you’ll get a beautiful dress at some point.”

Then you’ve lost him. You’re not surprised, though. Everyone prefers Lizzie to you, it’s just how it’s always been. You watch the back of him as he walks towards your sister, taking the world in his stride behind him as he does so. You watch as she courtesy’s for the man she has just danced with, and before Lizzie can go anywhere, she’s scooped up to dance with Harry. Maybe if you had bought the Emerald material your mother had wanted you to, Harry would be dancing with you right now instead of Lizzie. Maybe if you hadn’t been so against dancing in the first place he might’ve asked you to dance.

No, you wouldn’t stoop to that level for a man of all people. If Harry didn’t want to dance with you, ‘swell dress’ and all then you weren’t going to change yourself, no matter how much you wanted to, for a mere man.

“YN!” Lizzie delightful glee of your name came after their dance had died down. Lizzie came bouncing towards you, a just as bashful Harry following behind her, “Harry has offered to take us home in his carriage!”

“Now?” You ask, your heart hopeful that they’d both say yes.

Lizzie turns to look at Harry who shrugs his shoulders slightly, “If the two of you want to, we can.”

“Oh no.” Lizzie places her hand upon his shoulder, “We couldn’t dare take you away from the festivities. We will wait until you’re finished.”

“I’m ready to leave myself, Miss YLN.” He says to Lizzie, the same heat falling upon her cheeks as you had felt earlier.

“Please. Call me Lizzie.”

“Okay, Lizzie.” He grins, “I’ll just go fetch the carriage, see you by the front door?”

Lizzie nods, and you give him a small smile and watch as he walks towards the door. You try not to stare as he shrugs on his coat but it’s hard to, and you know that Lizzie is feeling the exact same way that you are.

“Oh YN.” She gushes, turning to you and placing her hands upon your shoulder, “He’s a perfect gentlemen.”

“Is that so?” You ask, walking towards the door also to fetch your shawl, shrugging it on your shoulders.

“It is.” She copies your actions with her own, “He asked to dance, saying that you were the one to introduce me to him. I can’t thank you enough, dear sister.”

“It’s no issue.” You shake off, turning away from her so that she can’t see the fall in your face, “He seemed to take a fancy to you once I’d pointed you out from the crowd.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” You nod your head, turning to look at her. Her shawl was scraggly thrown upon her body, probably from how distracted she was, and you lean forward to sort it for her whilst she gleams over your shoulder at nothing. You wonder if this is what it was like to meet your husband, butterflies and distractions from that moment on. It hadn’t happened yet for you, and seeing the way Lizzie was acting, you decided that you didn’t really want it happen, “Couldn’t take his eyes off you, sweet one.”

She squeals and wraps her arms around you, squeezing you slightly. You were happy that she was happy, and you wouldn’t take that away from her.

The door opened, revealing a blushed faced Harry due to the cold outside, “Ready?”

“YN!” Your mother calls from the floor below you, “Can you please come and set the table?”

You groan and remove your paintbrush from your canvas. The day prior you had been given a small sum of money from your Aunt Jemima after visiting and immediately gone to the store in town to pick up some new canvases. It was heaven to receive little amounts of money like these and you almost always spent it on canvases so you wouldn’t have to use paper, which was the cheaper alternative that you had to buy.

“I’m a little busy!” You call back, moving so that you can shout out of your door, “Can you ask Lizzie?”

“She isn’t here!” Your mother calls back and you groan. You place your palette down on the table beside you, as well as your brushes in the pot of water you had brought up with you. You wipe your hands on your apron before pulling it over your head and off your body. You drape it over your bed carefully, being careful to not get anything on the linen.

You bounce down the steps, tucking your hair that falls down in ringlets by the side of your face behind your ear. Entering the kitchen, you place a kiss to your mother’s cheek. She stands over the side, chopping some vegetables that she’s going to bring to boil for your dinner. She greets you with a smile and continues chopping.

“Is Lizzie with Harry?” You ask, placing the cutlery beside each mat on the table, noticing that there were four like there had started to be now.

“Of course she is.” Your mother shakes her head, “They’re always somewhere causing trouble.”

You had to suppress your grin. Lizzie had been the good girl of the family for so long, always doing everything that was asked of her and your were the one who tended to ignore requests so that you could continue doing whatever you wanted to. Since Lizzie had met Harry, that had been completely flipped upside down. You were the good girl of the family who did everything that was asked of you, and Lizzie was the one always getting out of doing things by sneaking off with Harry.

Since the two had met just over two months ago, they had been inseparable. When the two of you weren’t being taught how to read and write by your mother, Lizzie was always somewhere doing something with Harry. The other week he had taken her to the theatre and words couldn’t explain how jealous you were. You and Lizzie did everything together, and you always had done, but now you felt second best to someone who she hardly knew. You knew a part of you was jealous, but you would never admit that. What you did admit to yourself was that you were lonely and missing your sister.

“Is Harry staying for supper?” You ask, filling up the water jug to be placed upon the table.

“I’m guessing so.” Your mother says, moving to bend down by the fire to check on the meat, “It’s ready. Will you go get them? I think they’re by the river.”

You nod your head, moving to the front door to retrieve your shawl and boots. They were always at the river, as though it was there place. You couldn’t understand for the life of you why they’d chosen that place out of all, especially during the winter months. Snow was just around the corner and the two of them decided to spend their days moments away from catching a cold by the river.

The walk itself was five or so minutes through the woods behind your house, watching your step for fallen branches and wild animals. Lizzie was usually the one who brought you to the lake, so it was a given that you hadn’t been in a while.

Once the trees start to disperse, you stand in the middle of the opening to try and spot them. You do, quite quickly in fact. They’re stood by the water, picking up stones every now and then to skim across it, rippling the stillness with their movements. Skimming stones felt like a normal thing to see people doing, but once you watch Lizzie throw her arms around his neck, you feel like a little portion of you crumbles inside. You hadn’t seen them like this before, and you never ever wanted to see them like that again.

“Lizzie!” You call, snapping them out of their trance so that they turn to look at you. Lizzie immediately removes her arms from around Harry’s neck.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No.” You shake your head, “Mother just asked me to collect the two of you for supper.”

The two nod and move around where they were stood to collect their things but you don’t wait for them. Instead, you turn around and walk back towards the house. You can hear them laughing but you refuse to look back, because you know that you won’t be able to handle it. The temperature drops dramatically as you walk back, and you pull your shawl closer to you to help preserve some heat. You had a suspicion that at some point this evening it would start snowing, which you weren’t too unhappy about. It would give you time to finish the painting you started today, and hopefully create some more.

They aren’t close behind you as you reach the door, so you enter and immediately walk towards the table which is looking a lot fuller than it had been.

“Are they coming?” Your mother asks and you nod, sitting down at the table. They enter a few minutes later, Harry greeting your mother with a kiss on the cheek.

The three join you at the table, Harry next to you, Lizzie next to him and your mother sat next to the spare seat — where your father usually sat. You all join hands in saying grace, your hand feeling completely natural sat in his. The way his encompassed yours was something that will be etched into your brain for the rest of the day, and for the days after that. It isn’t a light hold either, it’s a prominent one, and his fingers squeeze yours tightly. You drop your eyes to your plate, unable to look up at him because you’re unsure of what his features may hold.

You don’t say anything over the dinner, you just listen to their words. It’s all about Harry’s time in London, like it usually was, and the rest about what the two had been up too. Your mother asks the dreaded question, and yet again, you ignore any word that comes out of their mouths.

It was inevitable at this point that Harry and Lizzie, at some point, were going to marry each other. You were surprised that Harry hadn’t proposed yet, if you were honest. If soulmates were a thing, no matter how much it pained you to believe, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were the example. You wouldn’t ever say anything to anyone about this, but you do think a part of you wished that was you in her place. You wished that you were the one that he smiled at, held hands with, kissed upon the cheek as she left.

After the dinner had finished, you had returned up to your room and lit your candle, leaning against the window frame to peer outside. They stood by the gate, Harry’s hand holding hers and her hand holding is. They looked as though they truly loved each other and what you expected to be a measly kiss on the cheek like it usually was, wasn’t that at all. A little part of you died inside when you saw him lean forward and place a kiss upon her lips, his hand lifting up to rest against her cheek. You managed to draw yourself away from the window after you’d watched for a while or so, slipping under your sheets and into your linen, turning so that you’re facing the wall. A few minutes or so later, you hear the door open and the rustling of clothes and you suspect Lizzie gets ready for bed. You try not cry but you can already feel the tears starting to fall down your face.

“YN.” You hear the soft whisper of your voice over the crackle of the candle that was still on in the room, “Are you awake?”

“Yes.” You manage out through the hesitation within your voice.

After a few seconds, and a slight giggles escaping her lips, “He kissed me, YN.”

“Oh.” You try not to sound like you’re upset, “Are you going to marry him?”

“He hasn’t asked me.” She’s quick to say, “But I think he might.”

A month or so later, you’re stood in front of a carriage, one that sits Lizzie inside on her way to Etiquette Lessons. Every young lady in the village had to go to them when they reached a certain age to make sure that they are properly prepared for how to look after their husbands when the day comes. You weren’t quite at the age yet, but Lizzie was.

You had given her a hug, and watched your mother kiss her cheeks and hug her, but you now found yourself watching something that you had seen so many times now. Harry and Lizzie stood by the door of the open carriage, her hands in his as they whisper and chuckle at whatever they’re talking about. You can’t hear what they say, but you can tell it’s emotional from the tears that are running down his face.

You mother wraps her arm around your shoulder, squeezing your shoulder. You wondered if she knew. You hadn’t said anything to her, but she always seemed to know what was going on in your life even if you hadn’t told her anything.

Harry helped Lizzie into the carriage, and closed the door for her before coming to stand next to you. Your eyes fluttered up to look at him for a second, but he didn’t even look anywhere near you, he was watching the carriage as it left. The love of his life was leaving in it, so I’m not surprised he did so.

“Mother.” You say quickly once the carriage had turn off the path, “Can I return and paint?”

“Of course you can.” She places a hand on one of your cheeks and a kiss to the other, “Take Harry with you. He’ll need the company.”

You turn to look at him, and he just shrugs, so you nod. You return back to the house with Harry trailing behind you, looking like a lost puppy. The way his eyes seemed to droop, as well as his hair, all hinted to the fact that he was actually upset that she was leaving. He follows you into the room, and sits on the end of Lizzie’s bed whilst you pulled your paints out of your drawer.

“I’ve only been in here once before.” He says after a few seconds, running his hand over the linen of her sheets, “You were out. Something about Aunt Jemima.”

“Oh.” You start to face place some of your paints upon your palette, “I read to her, sometimes, and she pays me so I can buy paints. I’m hoping that one day she’ll take me to Europe with her.”

“Europe?” He asks, “You want to go?”

“More than anything.” You sigh, swirling your brush in the green paint you had just placed upon your palette, “More specifically I’m hoping she takes me France. I’ll be able properly practice my art then.”

“Can you not do that here?”

You hesitate for a second, hovering your brush over the canvas slightly, “I’ll be better suited if I go there. People will care more about my work.”

“It’s beautiful work.” He says after a few seconds, “I don’t know how France would change that.”

You think for a second about how to explain this to him, “Think of it like Etiquette school. The girls go and return as better wives than if they hadn’t gone. They would’ve been good wives, but not as good without the school.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“My art is good without France, just like the wives are without Etiquette class, but they are better with it. My art will be better with France.”

You turn around to see him nod his head, “I think I understand.”

“A part of it is also me wanting to leave this town.” You say, turning back around so that you can place your paintbrush back upon your canvas.

“I cannot fault you for that.” He says, and you turn to him again, only to see that he’s laid back upon the bed, a hand over his eyes, “Sometimes I wish I could leave.”

“Why don’t you?” You ask, “If one of us had the beings necessary to leave it would be you?”

“Beings necessary?” He pushes himself up on his elbow so that he’s looking directly at you, “And what would be those necessary beings?”

“Money, for one.” You say, moving so that you’re sat on your bed, looking straight at him, “Carriages. Knowledge of the world. The furthest I’ve ever gone is the neighbouring town and that was to drop something off for my mother.”

“Why don’t you leave then?”

You chuckle, raising your eyebrows, “I plan on it.”

“Ice Skating.” Harry says as he walks through your bedroom door, holding two pairs of ice skates in your hands.

“Harry!” You exclaim, placing your hand upon your chest at the shocked sight of him, “I could’ve been indecent and you would have never known!”

“But you aren’t.” He tips his head to the side, “Ice Skating. We’re going ice skating. The lake has frozen over and it’s perfect.”

“Are we now?” You ask, placing your palette down upon the table next to your easel, “Is Mr. Styles bored of his mansion.”

“I’m going to loose my mind.” He drops down on your sisters bed, the skates clattering to the floor as he does so, “Please come ice skating with me.”

“Harry.” You sigh, pulling your painting apron off, “I don’t even know how to ice skate.”

“Then I will teach you.” He says.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you nod your head, “I’ll do it if you let me paint you.”

“Deal.”

Over the past two weeks you and Harry had grown close. Not as close as Harry and your sister, but close enough for you to class him as one of your good friends. The two of you had started to do everything together, similarly to him and Lizzie but with some barriers. You hugged each other but you certainly weren’t as touchy deeply as they were with each other. You couldn’t do it to your sister, so you avoided doing anything that would be seen as wrong.

You did feel sorry for Harry. He had told you that he had sent three letters to Lizzie during this time and she hadn’t even replied to one. You weren’t quite sure why, but that was quite despicable on her part. The poor man was making himself sick with how much he was worrying about her, and you were the one who had seen it, and been the one to try and get him out of it. One of the things that you had begged him to let you do was paint him, but he kept rejecting your proposal. Instead, he told you that he liked to enjoy watching you paint rather than having you paint him.

You were excited to say the least that he had agreed to let you paint him, and you certainly weren’t going to miss that opportunity.

“Slow down.” You call to Harry, who’s around ten strides a head of you as you waddle your way with your dress in your hands through the snow, “I can’t keep up with you.”

“Walk faster then.” He says, turning to look at you with a grin across his face.

You groan and try to pick up the pace, nearly slipping a few times on some particularly icy parts of the ground but you make it to the lake in once piece. Harry passes you the skates he had picked up for you and you thank him for passing them to you. You kick your shoes off and fasten the skates, just as he does the same.

“Stay away from the middle.” He says, “It’s thinner than the edge.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” You say as you try to stable yourself on the blades, “I have not idea what I’m doing.”

“It’s like walking, but on ice.” He deadpans and you resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I’ll let you hold my hand if you want.”

He holds his hand out and without really thinking you place your hand in his, allowing him to guide you onto the ice. His hand was cold, but so was yours, but having his in yours sent little flames across the entirety of your body.

At first you were unsteady on your feet, and you’re sure that you could’ve nearly broke Harry’s hand with how tightly you were squeezing it. He chuckled and made sure that you were continuously upright. After five minutes or so, you found the swing of what you were doing, and managed to move forward without any wobbles.

“I’m letting go of you.”

“No!” You exclaim, gripping his hand tighter so that he wouldn’t be able to pull away from you, “I’ll fall.”

“You won’t fall.” He chuckles, trying to pull his hand away again. “I will.” You shake your head, “Please, don’t.”

“You’re not going to fall.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

He somehow manages to release his hand from yours and skate backwards away from you, leaving you on your own. You hold your hands out, straightening them as though that’s going to help balance you out. With the little momentum you had left, you moved forward slightly until you came to a halt, where you pick up one of your feet to push forward and move forward. You manage to do it, without falling which surprises you.

“Harry!” You exclaimed, beaming at him, “I’m doing it.”

“I told you that you would.” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You smile, and the two of you continue off across the ice.

Everything seems to be going well and good until you manage to catch your blade in a slit in the ice and go tumbling forward, going over on your ankle as you do so. You drop to the ground with a thud, a throbbing immediately falling upon your ankle.

“Harry. . .” His name escapes your lips through the the hiss of pain you let out.

“Are you injured?” He’s quick to ask, skating over to you as quickly as he possible could.

“My ankle.” You say, “I think I’ve sprained it.”

“You probably have.” He’s quick to say, “Lift up slightly, I’ll carry you back home.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“What are you going to?” He laughs, “Crawl?”

“I might.”

“You wouldn’t make it home for Christmas.” He bends down, “Come here.”

You lift your hand up and wrap your hands around his neck, allowing him to place his hands underneath your knees. He looks at you with a small smile on his face and skates back to the edge of the lake, placing you on the floor for a second so that you could both remove your skates.

“How did you get so good at skating?” You ask, returning to your prior position his arms.

“Home.” He says, “In England. It’s cold year round there, and the lakes are often frozen. My mother taught me.”

“You don’t talk about you mother.”

“She died when I was young.” He says, not looking at you the way that he had been, “I don’t remember a lot about her.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You didn’t.” He shakes his head, “You were merely curious.”

You drop your eyes to the white around the two of you, “My mother says that my curiosity may get me in trouble one of these days.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” He chuckles, “But that’s something that makes you, you.”

Without really thinking, you say the next few words, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t me.”

He shakes his head, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You nod your head, “There’s nothing special about me. I’m no Lizzie YLN.”

“No.” He shakes his head, “You aren’t Lizzie, but you are YN. This world doesn’t need anymore Lizzie’s in it.”

“I thought maybe you’d have a thousands Lizzie’s if you could.”

“I wouldn’t need a thousand if I could have the one.”

“You do have you.”

He shakes his head, “I told her before she went that there was no need for Etiquette classes because to be my wife all I wanted was her. Lizzie wanted to go to get the best experience she possibly could.”

“You respected that?”

He looks directly over you again, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“We all know what actually happens at Etiquette classes, Harry.”

Harry only nods his head once, not saying anything else. He still carries you home, one of his arms rested comfortable under his knee whilst the other rests behind your back. You hoped you hadn’t offended him, but there was no way for you to know.

Etiquette classes, as a whole, were to teach young women the proper ways of being a wife during the day, and through the night thy would attend balls and such. The balls were so the women could hopefully meet eligible, rich men who they were hopefully going to marry. If you were already meant to marry someone else, it didn’t seem like a right thing to go to this place where the people were always after one thing.

As your feelings grew for Harry, you wondered whether Lizzie’s had diminished and that was why she decided to go to the classes. You certainly shouldn’t want that, but you couldn’t lie and say that a part of you did.

“Mrs. YLN?” You mother comes running towards the two of you at Harry’s call of her name, “We’ve had a little accident.”

“What have you done now?”

“I went over on my ankle.” You deadpan.

“Harry will you get me some ice?” He nodded and moved towards the kitchen whilst you mother freed your ankle and rested it upon her knee.

He came back with ice wrapped in a cloth and passed it to your mother who placed it upon your ankle.

“Thank you for bringing her home, Harry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “Thank you for the offer, though. But I should be returning home.”

“Pass my love onto your father.”

“I will.”

He throws you once last look, one that you can’t quite pinpoint the emotion of. After a few seconds he drops his eyes, and walks out of the door without looking back. You turn to look at your mother, who’s got a skeptical look upon her face as she looks at you.

“What is it?”

“Does he know?”

“Does he know what?”

A small smile crosses her lips, “That you love him.”

You lips part in shock before you clamp them shut, “I. . . I feel no such thing.”

“You had just lied to me, child.” She shakes her head, “I know love when I see it.”

“Mother.” You shake your head, “He loves Lizzie.”

“I know.” She places her hand upon your cheek, “You’ll be the one to pick up the pieces when she breaks his heart.”

Lizzie was due to return home today, on Christmas Eve of all days, and the house certainly looked as though it was ready for her.

You, your mother and Harry had spent quite a while this year decorating the house to be as Christmassy as possible. The thing that you still think about to this day was jumping on Harry’s back so he could lift you up to reach the star, your mother smiling as she watched the two of you.

The carriage returned at around midday. You were stood next to Harry at the end of the garden, with you mother next to him. The carriage came to a halt and the driver was the one to open the door, Lizzie immediately tumbling out and throwing her arms around your mother who had taken a few steps forward.

She didn’t look like Lizzie, in your opinion. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the dress upon her body looking more expensive than the ones that she had gone with. The material was a blushed pink colour, with fancy detailing upon the corset and a puffy skirt that was one of the biggest that you had ever seen in your life. Lizzie looks happy to see your mother to say the least, but you’re quite surprised when she moves to you next instead of Harry.

“Hello!” She throws her arms around your shoulder, placing her head on your shoulder whilst you placed yours on hers, the material of her fancy coat hitting your cheek. You hadn’t seen anything quite like it before, never mind felt anything quite like it before, “I’ve missed you so much. How are you?”

“Well, thank you.” You pull away. clearing your throat and wiping your hands upon your skirt slightly, “The same old. It’s you who I should be asking that question to.”

She smiles and pulls away, holding her small bag close to herself as she looks at the person stood next to you. Harry looks as though he’s about to cry, and so does Lizzie if you’re being brutally honest. The two of them needed to be alone, and you understood that. When your mother motioned you to follow her back into the house, you didn’t hesitate with your movements, following her back into the house.

“I feel as though dinner might be late tonight.” You mother says as she closes the door behind you, fumbling to take off her scarf, “I feel like they might be out there for a while. Why don’t you go up and finish your painting?”

You nod your head, not wanting to say anything. You remove your outdoor gear and race up the stairs. You know you shouldn’t, but you immediately run to the window to see whether you can see the two of them, but you’re unable to.

Lizzie looked like a different person, but she sounded like Lizzie when she opened her mouth. The clothes that she wore might have changed but she was still your sister, the same sister who had the man you loved following her around like a lost puppy. Lizzie was the same Lizzie as she always had been, and that meant that she probably did feel the same way about Harry as she did before she left. There was a selfish streak in you that wished that wasn’t the case, and she had completely forgot about her feelings for Harry and had met someone else, but until you properly had a conversation with the girl, you couldn’t be too sure that was the case. You couldn’t be sure either that if that had happened, Harry would want you in that way.

You found yourself unable to paint, so you dropped down upon your bed and sat with your back against the wall, watching the outside world as your thoughts danced around within your head. You found the thoughts spiralling through your head that you were still a young woman at the end of the day, one who could have a line of men wanting to marry you but you instead found yourself second best to your sister, and that shouldn’t be happening. No matter how much you loved the man, or had grown to be accustomed to his company, being second best wasn’t something that you had set your heart on being, and you wouldn’t be for him.

You were the first YLN he had met, yet he had chosen your sister first and he was going to lay in that bed now.

“YN!” You mother called from downstairs, “They’re here.”

Christmas Eve dinner, to say the least, was one that you’d never forget. Harry looked as though he was either going to burst out crying or kill someone at any moment, Lizzie looked exhausted and your mother and yourself were sat in the middle of the two of you trying to make ends meet of what had happened. Harry’s eyes caught yours once, but he was quick to flutter them away and take another forkful of vegetables and place it in his mouth.

“Lizzie, you haven’t told YN and I anything about your time away.” Your mother started, probably not the best topic of conversation but one that would split up the silence hopefully, “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did.” She wipes her mouth upon her napkin, “I had an amazing time. Met some amazing people. Actually, there is one person that I’ve invited for you to meet for the new year.”

“You have?” Your mother raises her eyebrow, “How wonderful.”

“His name is Theodore.”

That’s all it takes for Harry’s fork to clatter to the plate, his chair screech across the floor and his body to stand up.

“I’m, uh, truly sorry Mrs. YLN.” He says, “The meal was lovely but I’m not feeling very well so I think it’s best that I go home.”

“Are you alright?”

“I will be.” He nods his head, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, “So sorry again, have an amazing Christmas.”

“You too, Harry.”

Once the doors closed, Lizzie’s the next person to drop her cutlery and sulk off upstairs. The slamming of the bedroom door shakes the whole house. You place another bit of potato into your mouth and slowly chew whilst looking at your mother.

She sighs, “Will you go check on your sister for me?”

“But—”

“You’ll get to see him later, don’t worry.” She says, “I’m going to plate him and his father some food. God knows they won’t eat without it, and you can take it over for me.”

You nod your head, taking a sip from your glass of water before standing up and making your way upstairs. You cam hear Lizzie’s cries before you open the door, and you know that its because of what had obviously happened before the two of them had come to lunch. You push the door open, to see her laid on her bed face down, her head deep within her pillow. You push the door closed behind you and back up until your back is directly placed upon the solid wood.

“Are you engaged to him?” You say, looking down at your shoes so that you don’t have to make eye contact with her.

You can hear the bed creek beneath her as she moves, but you still don’t look up, “To who?”

“To Theodore.”

“No.” You lift your eyes up just as she shakes her head, “I’m not.”

“But you want to be.”

“What makes you think that?”

You scoff and shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, “You forget that I’m your sister, Lizzie. I know you better than you know yourself.”

After a few seconds, she speaks again, “He’s going to propose.”

“He is?” You take a few steps forward until you’re sat upon your bed, directly across from her, “Why, Lizzie?”

“We’re in love.” She quickly says, her eyes bulging out the way that they do when she starts to get upset, “When you’re in love, you get married YN.”

“I thought you were in love with Harry.”

“I love Harry.” She says, shaking her head, “But I’m not in love with him. I love him as a best friend.”

“He loves you.”

“I know.” She shakes her head, “I just didn’t love him the way I love Theodore. He’s just so kind, and so gentle and he makes me feel things that I just haven’t felt before.”

The way that she stands up immediately makes your mind immediately fall to a place that you know isn’t where it should be. Your eyes widen and she looks at you the exact way that you know that what you thought is right.

“Lizzie.” You voice comes out as a whisper, and you shake your head, “You didn’t.”

“I love him, YN.” She shakes her head, “And he loves me.”

“We always said we’d save that until marriage.” You shake your head, “You told me that’s what you have to do.”

She sits down on the bed next to you, reaching so that her hands are placed upon both of your shoulders, “And you do. Promise me you will, YN.”

“I will.” You quickly say, “I promise, I will.”

“Good.” She sighs, dropping her hands from your shoulders, “You will not end up like me, I won’t let you.”

“How have you ended up?”

She looks at you with tears in her eyes, “I think I’m pregnant, YN.”

You were holding a basket of food that your mother had collated for Harry and his father. You had knocked upon the door once and now you were stood, waiting for someone to open the door and let you in from the cold. The temperature had certainly dropped since you had been outside earlier, but you weren’t surprised at that fact.

“Miss. YLN.” Harry’s father opens the door. You’ve only ever met him once, and from what Harry has told you, he’s quite a cold man, “May I ask why you’re here?”

“Uh, my mother sent you and Harry some food over.” You say, holding up the basket within your hands, “I just came to deliver it.”

“Please.” He says, “Come in.”

You step through the threshold of the house, entering one that was three times the size of your own but just as empty as yours.

“I’ll take that to the kitchen for you.” He says, holding his hands out so you can place the basket within them, “H is upstairs, in the library. Third door on the left.”

“Thank you.”

The stairs themselves were probably bigger than your entire house, and as you ran your hand across the wood of the banister you couldn’t believe how expensive it felt beneath your fingers. You followed Mr. Styles’ instruction and walked along the grand hallway until you found the third door on the left. It was slightly ajar, so you placed your hand upon the wood and push it open, the door creaking as you did so.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of the room in front of you. When Mr. Styles said Library you thought it may have been a small room with bookshelves in it, but it wasn’t, it was a full library at the most. It was full of the most books you’ve ever seen anywhere, floor to ceiling bookshelves. You couldn’t help your want to run your fingers across every single cover.

You spot Harry sat at the window, his knees bent and a book placed open upon them. You cross your hands in front of you, taking a few steps towards Harry. The sound of your shoes against the wooden floor notifies Harry that you’re there, and he lifts his eyes to look at you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, closing the book that he had open.

You take a few more steps towards him, sitting at the opposite side of windowsill to him, “I should be asking you that question.”

He chuckles, lifting his leg up again so that it’s on the windowsill, “I’m okay.”

“I don’t believe that.” You shake your head, coping him so your feet are up also and you’re facing him, “Tell me truthfully. How are you?”

He shakes his head, dropping his eyes down to his knees, “She doesn’t want to marry me.”

“You asked?”

“Today.” He nods, looking back at you again, “I had a ring.”

After a few seconds you whisper, “Can I see it?”

“See what?”

“The ring.”

He opens his jacket and fumbles around in the inside pocket, bringing out a small blue velvet box which he throws towards you. You catch it, nearly dropping it but you manage to keep it in your hands. You raise your eyebrow at him and he offers a small smile, one that you knew wasn’t the most truthful of how he’s feeling.

You open the box and see a beautiful ring in the box. The ring itself was silver, but the thing that drew your and probably Harry to it was the gem. It looked to be diamond, not a large one at that but one that was a lovely sized. The light from the window caused the diamond to glimmer slightly, a gasp escaping from your lips.

“Harry.” You shake your head, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “It’s beautiful.”

“I thought so too.” He says, running his thumb across his bottom lip before shrugging his shoulders, “Lizzie didn’t think so.”

“It’s not because of you, Harry.” You quickly say, “Nothing to do with you.”

“It must’ve been, YN.” He says, “You’re sister doesn’t want to marry me. Me! Not anyone else.”

“She can’t marry you, Harry.” You say, the tears starting to collect in your eyes, “I don’t know whether if situations were different she would marry you, but in this situation it isn’t your fault. I can promise you that.”

You watch a tear fall down is cheek, “Has she met someone else?”

You look away, pursing your lips and closing your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Is it Theodore? Is she engaged to him?”

“She will be.” You say, standing up and moving so that you’re in front of him, placing your hand upon his knee, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“She’s my sister.”

“You’re not in charge of her.”

You reach forward and place your hand upon his cheek, using your thumb to delicately wipe the next year that falls out of his eye. His tilts his head slightly so that it’s nicely rested within your hand, and you smile at him, which his returns.

“Did she ever love me?”

“She did.” You say, nodding your head, “She loves you. She’s just not in love with you.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

You shake your head, “I don’t think anything will at this point. You just need to wait, time will heal. I’ll be here for you.”

“I think.” He says, dropping his knees so that he can move closer to you, “I think you might be able to.”

“Whatever you need, H.” You say.

He moves closer, you can feel him closer to you, but you certainly hadn’t expected for him to place his lips upon yours. The kiss at first in gentle, his lips pressed against yours so gently that at the start you couldn’t quite feel him upon you. Then it’s more urgent, with his hand placed upon your cheek, his lips moving against yours at a quick pace.

“H.” You whisper, pulling away slightly as he removes his lips from yours, using them to dance down your cheek, to your jaw and then resting against the skin of your neck.

He removed his hand from your cheek and hooking it underneath your thigh so he can manoeuvre you to be on his lap.

This is the first time you’ve ever kissed a boy, and you can’t believe that the boy of all people is Harry Styles. You hadn’t been this close to anyone before, straddled across his lap with your knees each side of his waist, your skirt bunched up at your waist. The second you were comfortable, his lips attached to your again, his hands rested upon the small of your back. A feeling brewed within you, causing your hips to involuntary buck towards his. You felt him smile against your lips, and that was when you snapped out of the daze that you were in.

Without really thinking, you pulled away and clambered off of his lap. He looked flushed as you pulled away, his hair a little messy and his lips red from the kissing.

“No.” You hold your hand out at him, shaking your head, “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?” He said, standing up and taking a few steps towards you.

“Because. . . because you just can’t.” You shake your head, lifting your hands to run through your hair.

“I thought.” He looks at you quizzically, “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Maybe I did, a little bit.” You say, shaking your head, “But you didn’t want it to be me. You wanted it to be Lizzie.”

“No.” He shakes his head, holding his hand out as if to touch yours, “I didn’t want that.”

“You did, I know you Harry, and you did.” You sniffle slightly, shaking your head, “I’m not Lizzie and I’ll never be Lizzie, and I’ve accepted that. You’ll never love me like you love Lizzie, and I know that. But, Harry, I won’t be second best. I don’t deserve to be second best.”

“You aren’t second best, YN!”

You can’t help but let out a small sob at his words, “I am, Harry. From the first day that we met each other, Lizzie came first. She was the one who you couldn’t bore your eyes away from, not me. I don’t think I had a full conversation with you until Lizzie left for her classes.”

“That’s not true, YN.” He shakes his head, “I swear to you, it isn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You take a few steps back, “I won’t be second best.”

With that you turn away, leaving the house and leaving Harry. You couldn’t help the tears that fell as you walked across to your house.

You had made the decision that day that you weren’t to stay in America, that you were going to leave and you knew that Aunt Jemima was the person you knew would be able to help you with that.

Your Aunt Jemima was getting older, but before she died she wanted to go to Europe on last time, more specifically France. She had asked you years ago to be her companion on the trip, and you had agreed, but that was the last time you’d ever spoken to her about it. On Christmas day, you had been the one to bring the idea back up in conversation, dropping in little hints until Aunt Jemima picked up what you were saying. She had been the one to say that in the new year you were going and that you had to be ready to leave on January second with no complaints, not that you had any anywhere.

When Aunt Jemima’s carriage came, you said your farewell’s to your mother and you sister, and Theodore who had proposed to your sister the day prior — and left. As you sat in the carriage, you couldn’t help but look at Harry’s house, and you weren’t shocked to see him at the window watching your every move. You didn’t look away from the window until you could no longer see the house, when you turned to look straight in front of your, your gloved hands resting upon your knee.

“Forget him.” Aunt Jemima says, sighing slightly and shaking her head, “He isn’t right for you.”

“I have no idea what you are on about.” You shake your head, looking out of the small carriage window so that you don’t have to look at your Aunt.

“That Styles boy.” She says, and you immediately snap your eyes towards her, “Don’t think I don’t know about the two of you.”

“There isn’t anything to know.” You shake your head at her.

“There obviously is.” She says, “Or you wouldn’t be sulking the way that you are.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“I haven’t brought a liar with me have I ?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at you.

“You haven’t.” She shakes her head, “I am sulking, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” She says, pursing her lips, “Are you going to tell me about him, then?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re about to cry, my dear.” She flutters her eyes to you slightly, “I could sense your heartbreak from a mile away. He’s the reason you wanted to come, isn’t he?”

“I wanted to come.” You say, messing with your fingers that sat on your lap, “He just. . . gave me a reason to finally do it.”

“I think he’s the idiot in this situation.” She says after a few seconds and your lips part in shock, before you clamp them back together, “He’s the one who got involved with you and your sister. I wonder if he can even get out of bed.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well. First of all your sister broke his heart by not marrying him and marrying that other man, I’ve already forgotten his name.” She shakes her head, “Then you broke his heart by doing whatever you did when you went to go see him on Christmas Eve and you’ve been depressed ever since you left.”

“Who told you that?”

“Who do you think?” Aunt Jemima clicks her tongue and shakes her head, “My daughter told me. Wouldn’t stop crying saying that you’re leaving the love of your life and her other daughters pregnant by some pretentious nobody.”

You run your hand over your forehead, scrunching your face at the fact that everyone knew, “My mother knows too much.”

“Your mother just knows you.” Aunt Jemima shakes her head, “At least you haven’t ruined your life before it’s even begun, with a child of all things.”

“You’re just saying that because you never had children.”

“Why would I want an offspring of myself and some other man?”

“It’s about love, Aunt Jemima.” You can tell that you’re about to cry, so again you turn your head, “When you love someone, that’s something to bring that love into a being.”

“I just don’t see why.” She says, curling up her nose, “But then again, that’s why I’m seventy, unmarried and childless. Don’t think about the Styles boy too much. You’re going to a different country for heavens sake, think of all of the people that you’ll meet whilst you’re there. You’ll forget him soon, my dear, and he’ll forget you. That’s what we’ll hope for anyway.”

The tears do start to fall now, in quick streams down down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop them. Aunt Jemima, no matter how much you despised her sometimes, she certainly knew what she was talking about. You turned your head so that you were looking away from your aunt, looking out of the window and trying your hardest not to let any sobs fall out of your lips.

You did love Harry and if he had stopped your from getting into the carriage, your probably would. If he had asked to marry you, you probably would have said yes without any hesitation but at the same time you also felt as though you were second best, and that wasn’t a place that you ever thought you’d be.

No matter how much you loved him, and yearned to be with him, you knew for the sake of your sanity and for the sake of staying as a strong independent woman. You were taught from being young from your mother that no matter how many people try to say that all you were worth is more than just being the wife of some rich man. Your mother also said that you had a talent and that you had to use it.

France was going to be the place that you were going to use your talents, and be a better person for doing so.

Four Years Later

“Pierre.” You say, smiling at the man as he held his hand out to you, “Puis-je vous demander ce que vous faites?” May I ask what you’re doing?

“Je demande à la plus belle fille de la pièce de danser.” You can’t help the blush that falls across your cheeks. You nod your head and slip your hand into his, standing up and following him into the middle of the dance floor. I’m asking the most beautiful girl in the room to dance.

The music changes around them to one of the most popular songs in Paris to dance to. He lifts his arm up, just as you do to his, and start the movements in the same way that everyone else in the room had.

You had arrived in France with Aunt Jemima four years ago, fresh faced after the journey and ready to start your new life there. At first it took a while for you to get used to the new life that you now lived. Aunt Jemima’s French house, if it was even possible, was bigger that her house back home with more nooks and crannies to explore but more importantly, a bigger garden that you could paint every corner of. The main thing that you focused on during the first few months of your arrival was settling in and learning the language which you knew would be hard, but it was something that you needed to do.

Pierre was the person who had helped you do that.

Aunt Jemima had hired him to be your French tutor. She said that he was one of the best for you, and that he certainly was. You learnt the basics within the first few months until you were able to finally communicate with the people around you in their native language. At first, you despised Pierre and his pretentious way of making you feel small, but here you were, fours years later, dancing with him and waiting for his proposal at some point.

Aunt Jemima would be turning within her grave if she knew you were planning to marry Pierre. Even though she hired him when you first arrived to teach you, but she found him incompetent to do anything else. She could tell that you were falling for him, and told you multiple times to not settle for him but you were ignoring her.

If you listened to every one who your Aunt Jemima told you to not settle for, you’d never marry at all.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” He asks, in English this time, his accent seeping through with every word that he spoke.

“Plans?” You raise your eyebrow, “To paint, yes, but I suppose I can clear my schedule.”

After learning the French language, that was when you had started your painting classes. You started taking everything in, listening to every single word the teacher said to you until you were good enough to start on your own. The first time one of your pieces was shown in an exhibit, people loved it, and you found yourself creating more and more works and creating more and more links with people around.

“Do.” He says, nodding his head, “Je veux t’emmener quelque part. Quelque part spécial.” I want to take you somewhere. Somewhere special.

You bite your lip, nodding your head whilst trying to suppress the large smile that’s ready to cross your entire face.

Pierre was a hopeless romantic, always showering you in large gestures that caused your heart to flutter within your chest. He hadn’t kissed you, and even though you knew that you knew deep down that you shouldn’t compare it, you found yourself not feeling the way that you did the last time you found yourself with a man.

At twenty-three you were late to get married, and if you ever wanted kids you would have to do so quicker than anything you had ever done in your life because you knew that your days were going to start become numbered.

“What time should I be ready?”

“I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

The song ends, your courtesy and he bows and that’s when you walk back towards the table you were sat at, picking up your glass of Champagne and taking a sip.

“YN.” You stop drinking immediately, nearly choking on the liquid that you had already started to sip. You know that voice anywhere, etched into your brain from when you were just a mere eighteen year old with a heart twice the size of the one you had now, “As I live and breathe.”

You turn around, immediately seeing a man that you had left years ago stood in front of you. He looked exactly the same as when you knew him all those years ago, except his features were a tad harder and his hair curler that it was before if it was even possible which you weren’t too sure about.

“Harry.” You swallow the lump in your throat, placing your glass down on the table and turning so that you were facing him, “It’s been a while.”

“It certainly has.” He says, lifting his own glass to his lips, “You look good. Happy.”

“I am.” You nod your head. You look at him, his eyes emptier that you had ever seen them before, not even when Lizzie refused to marry him, “I wish I could say the same for you, but. . .”

“I look exhausted.”

“You do.” You say, watching as his lips curled up into a smile as do yours, “How are you? Genuinely.”

“I’m. . .”

“Ma chérie.” You feel an arm slip around your waist, rest upon the small of it as he stands next to you, “Qui est-ce?” My darling. Who is this?

“Ah.” You brush a piece of your hair that had fallen out of place away from your face, “Pierre, this is Harry. Harry this is Pierre.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, lifting the glass to his lips to drink the rest of it. As you watch, it doesn’t seem to even hits the sides with how quickly he drinks it.

“Bonjour.” Pierre holds his hand out to Harry, “Comment allez vous?”

Harry looks at Pierre’s hand but he doesn’t shake it, and that’s when you lift your fingers to run against your forehead, “Are you two, marié?” Married.

“No.” You shake your head, stepping to the side slightly so that Pierre’s hand isn’t upon your waist anymore, “We are. . .”

“Courting.” Pierre’s quick to interject, “I think that’s what to call it.”

You watch as Harry’s eyebrows raise, and without saying anything to the two of you, he turns around and mutters, “I need another drink.”

As he walks away, you can see the slight stagger in his walk, one that many intoxicated people hold and you know that him being not himself treads deeper than just seeing you there today.

“YN.” Pierre places a hand upon your shoulder, “How do you know that man?”

“He’s someone from home.” You say, watching as Harry drinks another full glass of Champagne where he’s staggered off to, “He’s an old friend.”

He leans down until you can feel his breath at your ear, “Just a friend.”

You nod, leaning into him as he places a kiss to your neck, “Bien.” Good.

Since Pierre wasn’t picking you up until eleven, you decide that you have the time to at least start your next painting. In the garden of your Aunts house that you had inherited, you had built a gazebo with the money that you had made from selling your art pieces to exhibits that overlooked the garden and the pond from the four different directions that it had around it.

You had decided that the swans that swum in the pond were looking particularly delightful today and you decide that is the direction that you want to start your painting. You set up your easel and your canvas, as well as your paints that you brought on a palette and start figuring out the dimensions of the painting and what you wanted it to look like.

You hold up your paintbrush, closing one of your eyes as you move it from portrait to landscape and back again.

“You always were a perfectionist.” The paintbrush in your hand clatters you the ground as it slips through your fingers, due to you jumping. You weren’t expecting anyone to be here, and you certainly weren’t expecting to hear his voice.

“And you always had a tendency to shock people.” He laughs, his dress shoes hitting the decking with loud pats.

“My apologies.” He says, slipping one of his hands into the pocket of his trousers, taking another step closer to you, “I didn’t mean to shock you, love.”

You place your palette down, brushing your hands off slightly on your apron. You’d usually wear your comfortable clothes to paint in, the attire usually not even being a skirt but often trousers, but because you were meeting Pierre later, you knew that you had to dress up. It wasn’t the fanciest dress you owned, but the light blue material complimented your features in a way that you just couldn’t resist when you saw it in the shop.

“Yes you did.” You lips curl up into a smile, “You forget that I know you Harry, even after all these years.”

“Lots of things can change in four years, YN.”

“You haven’t.”

“You haven’t, either.” He smiles.

You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and take a step closer to him, clearing your throat slightly as you do so, “I want to apologise for last night. Pierre can be a little. . .”

“Intrusive.” Harry leans against the pillar nearest to him and you nod, knowing that is exactly what he is.

“I’m very sorry. I would have loved to have caught up with you.”

“I probably wouldn’t have been in the best frame of mind to do so.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “I was drunk, if you couldn’t tell.”

“I could.”

“Now.” He lifts his hand up and motions to the garden around you, “Are you going to tell me what I’ve missed in the last four years?”

“Uh.” You move so you’re stood next to him, leant against the barrier, “I moved with Aunt Jemima. This was her house but she died a year ago, if I remember correctly. She left me the house in her will, and I decided that I wanted to stay.”

“Have you been at home at all during the last four years?”

You nod your head, “I went home when Lizzie got married, that was when I met Anna for the first time. Then I went back for Aunt Jemima’s funeral because she decided she didn’t want to be buried here.”

“I must have missed you.” He says, “I spent a lot of the last four years in England with my grandparents.”

“Lizzie told me.” You say, “She said that she did invite you to the wedding but your father explained that you were in England.”

He nods his head, “I left a few months after you. I think my father was fed up of my moping.”

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but his words did. Your chest squeezed slightly at his words. Even though you knew you were doing what you were doing to benefit yourself, you couldn’t lie and say that you hadn’t missed him. You had lost a friend when you left, as well as your first love.

“Are you married?” You ask, not really knowing why the words escape from your lips in the way that they do.

He shakes his head, holding his hand up to reveal his completely ring free hand, “Nope. I can’t really say that I’ve been looking.”

“I’m sure you’ve had opportunities.” You say, “You’re the perfect gentlemen, Harry. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had women queuing to marry you.”

He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “People have tried but I haven’t been interested.”

“Why not?”

“Some may say that I’m still hung up on somebody.” His eyes flutter away from yours, and you take it as the opportunity to look down at your hands, “But that doesn’t matter. What about you and Mr. Intrusive.”

You chuckle, lifting your eyes up to look at his, “He was my French language teacher. I didn’t like him, despised him to be fair but here were are a few years later and I think he’s going to propose to me later today.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

If you were asked this question but anybody else, you probably would have immediately said yes and that was enough for you to know that you should marry him. But seeing Harry stood there, the way that he is, waiting for you to answer what should be one of the easiest questions ever, reminds you that this may have gotten a lot more confusing now with Harry’s reappearance.

“I. . .” You hesitate and drop your eyes down to the ground again, “I think so.”

“You think?” He says, “I can’t say that I believe that you do if you only think that you want to marry him.”

“I do.” You say, quickly.

Harry stands up and takes a few steps towards the opposite end of the gazebo, “Do you love him?”

This answer, so it should be another one, was easy to answer, “No.”

“Then why are you marrying him.”

“I’m twenty-three, Harry.” You say, your heels tapping the wood as you move to stand next to him, looking at the pond in front of you, “I’m certainly not getting any younger. If I returned home to mother and father without a husband and children I believe they would disown me.”

“They wouldn’t.” He shakes his head, “They love you too much.”

“I’ve had three letters from them asking about grandchildren.” You deadpan, looking at him with a stoic look on their face.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t want to marry someone who you don’t love.” He says.

“If I don’t marry Pierre, who will I marry?”

After a few seconds, the smallest whispers escapes his lips, “You could marry me.”

The whole world seems to slow down around you, and you turn to look at him. He’s already looking at you, with those green eyes that you became so accustomed to all those years ago. You knew each other in all for three months, but you spent every second of every day with each other when Lizzie was away, and it certainly showed with how close you became. Marrying Harry could be the thing that you need, have always needed. You haven’t been as happy as you were when you were back him with him in a long time.

“Harry.” You say, the words coming out in a small whisper, “You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” He says, quickly to say the least, “I haven’t been more sure about anything in my life before.”

“Harry—”

“Madame.” One of the groundskeepers say, walking towards the two of you, “Monsieur Perney est là.” Mr. Perney is here.

“Merci, Alfred.” You clear your throat to try and mask the uncertainty in your voice, “Ça ne prendra qu’un seconde.” Thank you, Alfred. I will only be a second.

The man nods and walks away, and you turn back to look at Harry, who has the same look on his face as you do on yours. There’s a level of defeat between the two of you.

“I need to, um, go meet with Pierre.” You say, hands gripping the material of your dress.

“Is that a no?” He takes a step towards you.

You sigh, “It’s a, I have to think about it.”

He nods, “When will you know? This is probably a good time to tell you that I’m leaving tomorrow.”

That changed everything. It wasn’t as though now you had a few days to think through and make your decision, you had to make it quickly before he goes.

“Tomorrow?”

He nods, “Father’s ill. Paris was my last hooray before I go back home to be an adult.”

You take a few moments to think, “Will you be able to return back here this evening?”

“For you? Of course.” He says as though he doesn’t even have to think about it.

You nod your head and take a few steps towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye Harry.”

“I’ll see you later, love.”

“C’est une belle journée.” Pierre says as the two of you walk side by side around a park, the spring heat light upon your skin as you do so. It’s a beautiful day.

“It is.” You say, not being able to pull your eyes away from the ground below you.

You knew that you shouldn’t be thinking about this at all, that it wasn’t fair to Pierre, but all you could think about was Harry. You couldn’t get the look of his face out of your head as you kissed his cheek and walked away, as though he felt like that was it between the two of you. You were still unsure of the decision that you were going to make, but once you found yourself stood at the top of some steps, looking out at the park below, you knew that you were to make your decision sooner of later.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No.” You shake your head, finally lifting your eyes to look at his, “Everything is swell, thank you.”

“Good.” He takes a step closer so that his fingers are brushing yours, “YN?”

“Yes?”

“We’ve known each other for a long time.” He says, and the two of you turn so that you’re facing each other, his hands gripping yours, “A very long time, and I was wondering whether I could ask you something?”

“We have.” You know what the question is before the words have left his lips, and you’re already beginning to prepare yourself for what you’re going to hear the next time he open his lips, “And you can.”

He clears his throat and fumbles within his inside pocket, drawing out what you know is a ring box. He lets go of your hand which he was still holding with his free one and drops down to his knee, using his other hand to open the small box.

“YN YLN.” He sighs, “Ma chérie. Will you marry me?”

The same feeling that you felt before overcomes you, when the whole world around you seems to be moving in slow motion. He looks so happy, his cheeks lifting in a wide grin that you can’t seem to shake from your sight. You can’t even bring yourself to look at the ring he had chosen for you, because it was at that time, seeing him on his knee, that you know what your answer is.

“I’m so sorry, Pierre.” You slip your bottom lip between your teeth, “I don’t think I can.”

“What?” His whole face drops, and guilt starts to wash over you. He immediately stands up, looking at you with wide eyes, “No?”

You shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Pierre.”

“I thought that you wanted to marry me.” He shakes his head, “Comment ai je pu être si stupide?” How could I have been so stupid?

“You haven’t. I promise you, Pierre.” You reach your hand forward to touch his arm, but he moves away from you, not wanting you to touch him you suppose, “I did want to marry you.”

“What has changed?” You look at him with sad eyes, tears threatening to spill and you watch the realisation flutter across his features, “He has.”

You drop your head, lifting your hand to wipe away the tears that had started to spill, “I’m so sorry.”

“Who is he?” His features switch to angry ones next, and his voice deepens and it shocks you to say the least, “You have never mentioned him and now you will not marry me because of him?”

“He’s an old friend from hime, like I said.” You repeat your words from the party last night, “I haven’t seen him since I moved here.”

“Do you love him?” The words are quick to leave his lips and you once again drop your head, in shame if you are completely honest, “Do you? I want to hear you say it?”

“I do.” His hostile tone scared you into answering, “I always have.”

“Did you ever love me?”

You shake your head, the little movement causing him to throw you one of the worst looks you’ve ever seen in your life and stalk away from you. Tears stream down your face, and you know that you probably look the worst you’ve ever looked in your life at this given moment but you couldn’t care less. You thought that you’d feel worse than you do, but you you feel more relieved than anything. You feel bad that you’ve had to break his heart, but the idea of going back home with Harry, seeing your family and saying that he is the man that you’re going to marry was enough for your heart to burst with excitement.

In your opinion, you couldn’t return home quick enough. The second you return to the house you’re fluttering around as quickly as possible, packing all the belongings that you’d need immediately when you returned but you knew that you could get the rest of your belongings shipped in at a later date.

The evening rolled around quicker that you had imagined it would, but you supposed time went quickly when you’re packing to go across the world with the love of your life. When you hear the knock at your door, you race to open it, not caring what people think because all you want is to see him.

You throw the door open, and there he is, stood in the exact same suit that you’d seen him in earlier. He did look tireder then he did earlier, but if you had spent the day worrying you probably would’ve looked worse than he did.

“Come in.” You open the door wider, so that he can step in, “Please.”

He takes a few seconds to look around at the entrance way to the house, his lips parting at the sheer size of it as you did when you first arrived. Aunt Jemima was an odd woman, you couldn’t lie, but she certainly knew how to pick a lovely house. You’d probably sell it now that you were going back to America.

He looked around for a while before he noticed your pile of belongings in the corner, all packed away and ready to leave.

His eyes meet yours and he looks as though he’s going to cry at any given moment, “Really?”

You nod your head, “I want to marry you, Harry. Always have.”

He takes two steps forward and places his lips on yours, his hands falling to your cheeks. It sent you back to four years ago, stood in the library after you’d just kissed him. You couldn’t believe that he was back with you, kissing your lips in the way that you had yearned for him too for so many years.

He pulls away and rests his head upon yours with a sigh, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Ever since that day. I should’ve done more.”

“It was my fault.” You thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, “I shouldn’t have left. I should have sulked for a while but gone back to you. I missed you so terribly.”

“I know why you did it.” He says, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I shouldn’t have proposed to your sister when it was you who made me happy. I knew that I shouldn’t have the second I said it, and I’m sorry for that.”

“We’ll start a fresh.” You whisper, resting your forehead upon his, “Forget everything that happened four years ago and start fresh. I love you, Harry. I always have.”

“I love you too.”

You lean forward and place your lips on his again, his hands resting comfortably upon your waist. It felt so familiar for you to be in his arms, his lips upon yours. He was the only person you had ever kissed, and now he’d be the only person that you’d ever kiss, and you certainly weren’t complaining about that.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Harry smiles at you, and you beam up at him before the two of you lean forward and kiss each other. Cheers and applause erupt around the two of you, as well as confetti and flowers being thrown across the two of you as you walk down the aisle.

You had arrived a few months ago from Paris, and immediately thrown into trying to nurse Harry’s father back to health, which didn’t go to plan. It was hard on Harry, but he had you and that was the most important thing to him. His Father gave you his blessing for the marriage, saying that it was the best thing he’d heard in a while. The funeral was a few weeks later, and the two of you decided to have the wedding two months afterwards.

The two of you were moving into Harry’s house, across the road from the house that your mother and father still lived in. You had so many plans for what you wanted to do to with the place, seeing as though it was way too big for the two of you to live in on your own.

It was your wedding night, and you were walking up towards the front door of the house when you felt Harry’s arm slipping under your thighs. You squeal as he picks you up, wrapping your arms around Harry’s neck. Giggling, you lean forward and place a kiss to his cheek, causing the dimples to show within his cheeks.

“I love you, husband.” You say, smiling as he places you down in the entry way.

“I love you too.” He leans forward and places a kiss to your lips, “Wife.”

It was as though the atmosphere within the room changed the second he said that word. His hands found your hips, resting on the material of your dress. You took a step backwards, causing you to press your back against the inside of the door, your lips immediately attacked by his. Your hips involuntarily buck up to Harry’s, causing a groan to escape from his lips. After a few seconds, he pulls away, kissing down your neck.

“Harry.” You whisper, feeling a moan ready to tumble from your lips at the feeling of his teeth grazing your neck, “Take me upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” You nod your head and he’s quick to pick you up again, this time carrying you over his shoulder. You squeal and grip his shoulders to steady yourself, “Better give my wife what she wants.”

Once you were up the stairs safely, he placed you down and connected your lips again. The first thing you did once your feet touched the ground again, you gripped the edge of his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, listening to the material tumble to the ground and drop.

“Can I take your shirt off?” You mumble against his lips and he hums, allowing you to unbutton his shirt and shrugging that material off of his shoulders. This was the most you’d seen of Harry naked, and another human being at that.

“What about you?” He says, walking you both back until he’s sat on the bed, “Can I see you?”

“You’ll have to help.” You giggle, turning around. He starts to unbutton your dress, letting the material slip from your body into a pile upon the floor. He starts to unfasten your corset next, allowing that to slip from your body also. You were very exposed now, and you knew that, but the way that Harry looked at you sent all of your worries flying from your head.

He leaned back on his arms and clambered back into his lap, similarly to the way you had done all those years ago when you first kissed in the library of this very house. You wrapped your arms around his neck, just has his rested upon the exposed skin of your waist.

“YN?” You hum against his lips, “Can I make you feel good?”

You pull away and nod, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. It made you feel nervous that he was going to see you in the way that he was but this was Harry, your husband and the person you had wished to be touching you and near to the years that you had been apart. He helps remove the rest of your undergarments until you’re completely naked in front of him, laying and waiting for whatever he is going to do to you. He removes his trousers and underwear as you do so. There’s something about seeing him like that causes your hear to flutter and the rest of you to follow it.

He hovers over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips before moving down your neck and to your chest until he reaches your breasts, pressing kiss to the plushy skin around it until he wraps his lips around your nipple, lifting his hand up to pinch the other one between his fingers.

“Fuck, love.” He smiles up at you as you whither beneath him, feeling all of your senses heightened at the feeling of him on your skin.

He kisses down from your breasts to your stomach until his face is directly where you want it the most, where you’re literally throbbing for him. Without any warning, he leans forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue, causing your hips to buck up from the bed and moans threatening to spill from your lips. Your hand drops to the top of his head, tugging at the curls that rest there. You’ve never felt like this, ever, in your life and you believe that if you feel it too much you will become accustomed to it. Your thighs try to clamp around his head but he stops you from doing so by gripping your thighs with his hands. After a particularly hard tug of his curls, a moan erupts from Harry and vibrates against your clit causing you to shudder.

He moved one of his hands up from your thigh to run over your wet slit, “Can I?”

“Please.” You’re quite embarrassed about how breathy it comes out but once he slips one of his fingers in, and a whine escapes his lips you can’t be bothered to care about the sounds that are leaving your lips.

“I need to stretch you out.” He says, curling his finger in you, “Can I?”

You nod your head, “Please.”

He pushes another finger into you, leaning his head back down to attack your clit again. He’s quite gentle with his tongue, using it to make a skilled attack on your clit, using it and his fingers to coax you closer and closer to the first ever orgasm you are to experience.

“Harry.” You whine his name and the feeling washes over you quicker than you had expected it too, but at the same time the man knew what he was doing and you to bring you to that peak. He continued to move his fingers and kitten lick at your clit until your thighs stop shaking. Once you have, he moves up your body again and kisses you.

“Good?”

“Really good.” You laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck, “I want to feel you, H.”

“Certain? Because we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” You place your hand on his cheek, pecking his lips, “I want to.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smile, “It’s going to hurt whether we do it now or later. I want to.”

It’s uncomfortable to say the least, the feeling contrasting the one that you had felt earlier. You weren’t in a lot of pain, but it made it a little harder to feel the pleasure that you know you can feel from this act, Lizzie had told you plenty about it when you were younger. Harry grunted as he pushed into you, scrunching up his features. From the way that little groans and deep breaths escaped his lips, you knew that he was feeling an immense amount of pleasure.

“Feel good?” He grunts against your neck, pressing a small kiss to the skin as you smile, running your nails down his back. You knew that he was close, from the way he twitched inside of you, and your tried everything to coax it out of him.

“Feel so good, love.” He comes soon after his words, spilling into you and filling you up.

He collapses on top of you and you hold him close to you, pushing his curls off of his forehead that have stuck. You giggle as his pouts his lips, leaning down to play a kiss to them.

“I love you so much.” You smile.

“And I, you.” He pulls you close, “You were never second best, I hope you know that.”

“I do now.”

Three Years Later

“Mary.” You smile, placing your hand on the back of the little girls shoulder, “That looks beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” She says, continuing to add the green paint to her painting.

You and Harry figured out not that long after what do with the large house you had been left by his father. With your art and French skills, and Harry’s love for reading and slight knowledge of simple maths, you decided to convert the house into a school for the kids in the village. It was a place for them to come without having to worry and learn and focus on new skills.

At this point you had just finished one of your art classes and left the kids to let their creativity flow with some paper and paints, as well as pencils and other materials for them to use. You were making your way outside, smiling at the sight of Harry sat in the garden with a group of children sat around him, listening to every word he spoke as he read from a book.

The next thing you saw was your sister, stood with her husband and her children. You were surprised to see your little boy, Oscar, sat comfortably in her arms. The second he sees you, he’s making grabby arms in your direction.

He had just turned one and was now in a phase of not wanting to walk but be carried everywhere. He was certainly his father’s son, in more ways than one. He looked identical to his father, with green eyes and unruly brown curls and dimples, but he was also the exact same person as your husband, and if you thought it was a struggle to live with one Harry Styles, having an Oscar Styles as well was just as hard.

“Hi baby.” You pick him up and place him on your hip, his hand resting on your neck lovingly. From the way he drops his head to your shoulder, you can tell he’s almost ready for his nap. You smile and press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry comes over a few seconds later and kisses you on the lips briefly and places a kiss to Oscar’s cheeks. The two of you look over at what you have created for the kids around you and smile at each other.

“I’m glad I didn’t give up on you.”

“Me neither.” You smile, “I love you, mon chéri.”

“I love you too.”

Oscar looks up at the two of you with a pout on his lips, causing Harry to chuckle, “And we love you too, little man.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles writing #harry styles au

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icedflames · 3 years

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Hello beautiful, can you list all the reasons why Elriel is not toxic and why it won’t be a toxic relationship. I’m tired of hearing people say that Elriel is toxic.

Alright, hang on... This is a long one.

“Azriel just wants Elain for sex.”

False. Until ACOSF, we had no indication that Azriel had sexual feelings for Elain. Based on his thoughts in the bonus chapter, his actions throughout ACOSF, we can infer that Azriel has romantic feelings for Elain. His friend.

The following scenes, read together, imply that Azriel has feelings for Elain beyond platonic or sexual feelings (I have only included my favorites for the sake of brevity):

ACOWAR

But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?” Something cold went through me. (Chp. 63)

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” (Chp. 64)

The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. (Chp. 65)

She let out a sob at the sight of Elain, still in Azriel’s arms. (Chp. 65)

Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. (Chp. 69)

ACOFAS

Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. [...] “Azriel remained at the window. [...] Azriel said, turning from the garden window at last. (Chp. 16)

Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me. But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” (Chp. 12)

I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” (Chp. 19)

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.” (Chp. 20)

ACOSF

“Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?”

Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. “I take that as a no regarding the meeting topic, then.” [...] Cassian surveyed the shadows gathered around Az. “You all right?” His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. (Chp. 20)

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.” (Chp. 22)

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why. (Chp. 22)

“No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. (Chp. 31)

Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. (Chp. 58)

I also want to add... That the notion that Azriel only has sexual feelings is immediately disproven by a close reading of the bonus chapter:

Rhys bared his teeth. "So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."

Azriel snarled softly.

Azriel snarled in response to Rhys’ suggestion that his feelings are only sexual. The entire scene was Rhys not understanding that Azriel actually had feelings for Elain. Rhys even suggested that Azriel still had feelings for Mor when Cassian had noted that Azriel no longer pined for Mor.

To add, Azriel is not going antagonize Rhys and potentially kick off a feud between courts if he only wanted Elain for sex.

ALSO!!!!

AZRIEL IS NOT GOING TO DECLARE HIS LOVE FOR ELAIN IN A BONUS CHAPTER. NO AUTHOR WILL EVER GIVE AWAY A MAJOR PLOT POINT/TWIST IN A BONUS CHAPTER. THAT WILL BE IMPORTANT AND WILL BE SAID IN THE NEXT BOOK!

Cassian never admitting his feelings for Nesta in Wings and Embers. Hell, Nesta kicked him in the balls. But we don’t doubt Nessian, now do we?

I answered another anon here comparing Wings and Embers to Azriel’s bonus chapter, comparing the themes and overall feel.

“Azriel feels entitled to Elain as the third sister.”

False. Azriel began to show interest in Elain prior to Nesta and Cassian getting together. Please see the quotes above if you don’t believe me. Also, please see my post on the progression of their relationship here.

Azriel is the first person to figure out what Elain’s powers were. He pulled her from her trance. Immediately after the seer reveal, we start to see Elain revert back to normal.

Azriel is the one who defends Elain against scrying, a very dangerous thing in ACOTAR may I remind you, when she is not there to defend herself.

Azriel is the one who would sit with Elain outside in the gardens.

Azriel lent Elain his most prized possession to keep her safe during the war.

“Azriel coddles her.”

False. Azriel gave Elain truth teller to defend herself. I’d hardly call that coddling.

Let’s take a look at that scene that misguidedly causes people to think that Azriel “coddles” Elain.

Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“But Nesta should?” Cassian growled.

Is Cassian coddling Nesta? No. They both have the same reaction.

The coddling Elain experiences is from the Inner Circle constantly thinking she’s meek and reduces her to a simple girl who likes to garden.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Go back to Feyre and your little garden.”

and then when Nesta refuses to let Elain scry for the trove:

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

Very different scenarios. It’s one thing to be protective (one of SJM’s favorite trope for romantic love interests). It’s another to belittle a person and then not let them grow. That is what Elain is referring to. That is the coddling she cannot stand.

“Azriel is too messed up mentally to be with anybody.”

False. This is demonstrably false. It is fanon. When this argument is used, it’s used to discredit Elain as a love interest and prop Gwyn up. If Azriel is too messed up to be with Elain, he’s too messed up to be with anybody. Period.

Nesta parallels Azriel in a lot of ways. And everybody loves Nesta and Cassian’s relationship now. Azriel does not have any of the mental illnesses the WebMD doctors come up with every other day. At the most, he has issues with his self worth and possible depression. At the most.

Saying that a character cannot be in a romantic relationship due to his mental health directly implies that individuals who are suffering with mental health issues cannot get into romantic relationships. That’s wrong and that’s mean.

In Conclusion

Elain and Azriel went from being strangers, to friends, to now possible lovers in a span of two years.

Their relationship is the most realistic one SJM has written. Nothing about them is toxic. They are kind and considerate of one another. Their feelings have slowly progressed and there are barriers to their relationship (namely, Elain’s mating bond to Lucien).

There is a difference between not liking Elain and Azriel together (an opinion) and saying Elain and Azriel are toxic together (a falsehood).

#asks #elriel #pro elriel #elain #azriel #mine

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superhero--imagines · 4 years

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / < This is Part 17!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

Song for this Chapter - (X)

A/N: Soooo I might not update Saturday this week because I’ve been pretty slammed at work this week. If anyone would like to Beta read the next two parts of this series (Especially if you’re BIPOC) pls DM me. The next part I’m not so concerned about, but the part after. (Also need Beta readers for my original pieces!)

* Your legs dangle beneath you as you continuously bump your head against the tree trunk hoping the contact will knock some sense into you

* It doesn’t even hurt, barley a tickle.

* You decided that the safest, and least embarrassing, place for you right now was up a 100 foot tall tree.

* You came here for some peace and quiet, to get away from everyone and sort out your thoughts

* Not that it matters since half the coven has been up here to talk to you

* Carlisle came first, though you’re betting he pulled the “dad” card so he could go first.

* “Lovely view.”

* “Hmm” you mumble

* He lets out a deep sigh, and you hate yourself for not making this easier for him.

* “So I heard that you and Edward had a .... romantic encounter.”

* You laugh

* “A romantic encounter,” you repeat, you look at Carlisle who mirrors your smile.

* “Edward does that too” He mumbles. Carlisle doesn’t miss the way you stiffen at the mention of his name.

* A long, deep sigh escapes him

* “I just want you to know that it’s fine,” He’s sitting far away from you on the branch, partially because of your powers and partially because he understands you want space.

* “You’re two healthy vampires and I understand you have needs-“

* “Oh my god Carlisle please don’t tell me you’re giving me “the talk” right now on a tree branch” you’re mortified but you’re laughing

* “I just want you to know that however you choose to proceed, I love and support you.”

* And then Carlisle does something he hasn’t done in a decade,

* he inches closer, breaking into your personal bubble and gives you a kiss on the forehead and a pat on your shoulder

* You smile after he leaps down and runs back to the house

* He hasn’t done something like that since he found you in Volterra, newly turned and asking to die.

* Truly a compassionate man.

* Rosalie’s the next one, she actually calls your attention from the ground

* “I brought you some blood in case you’re hungry” she shouts, holding up a thermos with what you assume is blood.

* You sigh, it looks like you won’t be getting much space

* She leaves just as much space as Carlisle when she sits by you on the branch

* “Nice view up here huh?” She even cups a hand over her eyes to see further

* This family and small talk

* “Do you want to talk about it?” She finally asks after a long moment of silence.

* You shake your head

* “Not really” she nods, lacing her fingers together on her lap. There’s another long moment of silence

* “Does everyone know?” She raises an eyebrow and you clarify

*“That Edward felt that way I mean.”

* Rosalie gives you a smirk that basically says, ‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about it’, but she doesn’t tease you any further.

*She lets out a long sigh and looks down to her hands

* “Remember that time you came to our house for the first time to play monopoly?”

*You nod.

*“Most of us pieced it together back then”

* You sigh, all the way since back then?

* It’s been over a decade.

* “Mostly because we usually don’t have board game nights, and Edward asked if we could so he could have an excuse to bring you over”

* That dork.

*You can’t help but smile.

* Of course Edward saw how lonely you were in that house and decided to find an excuse to get you five other friends.

* Another long moment of silence passes

* “Look I- I know Edward is my brother and I would be thrilled if you guys got together-“

*she places her hand on top of yours.

* “But I want you to know that I love you, and if you decide that’s not what you want, then that’s okay.”

* Her eyes are so kind, she gives you a gentle smile.

* “No matter what you decide, I’ll still love you, you’re still my best friend-my (sister/brother).”

* You feel your eyes sting and you nod, you give her a weak smile and she sighs wrapping you in a hug.

* “I’ll come back later with more blood” she caresses your face before jumping down, running back to the house

* As soon as she’s out of sight you feel your branch bend down

* “Great view, you see any bears yet?” Emmett asks and you sigh, swirling the cap of your thermos off

* “Care for a drink Emmett?”

* “Well don’t mind if I do”

* Out of all of them, you think you like Emmett’s interaction the best

* He doesn’t talk about Edward, just makes conversation with you like nothing is wrong, like you’re staying up this tree like a stranded cat because it’s fun

* “I heard you kissed a bunch of people at the party” you groan and put your face in your hands

* “I was drinking, I guess I drank too much, and made some questionable decision.”

* He grins and pats your shoulder

* “It’s not that big of a deal, we’ve all been there. Besides I thought it was pretty bad ass.”

* You smile, of course he would.

* Emmett doesn’t sit far away from you like the others, he sits beside you and swings his arm over your shoulder bringing you into a hug.

* “Don’t stress out about things too much up here, and when you’re ready don’t be embarrassed to come home.” He plants a kiss in your hair before swooping down

* That’s your big brother for you

* It’s not more than ten minutes until you feel the branch away again

* “Oh my god, can’t I have just a minute-“ the words die in your throat when you turn to see who’s sitting next to you.

* “Oh, hey Edward.”

* He’s sitting just as far as Carlisle and Rosalie were, if not further, he offers you a brief smile.

* A long moment of silence fills the air and you gulp

* “It’s a real nice view huh?” You say,

* oh geez now you’re the one talking about the view

* “Yeah it’s beautiful.” Edward’s not looking at the view, he’s looking at you, and the implication makes you even more flustered than you are.

* You watch Edward, he’s so happy he’s glowing. Every few seconds a smile will creep onto his face only for him to force it into a frown, only for it to twitch back into a smile again.

* You laugh.

* “You’re doing that thing where you can’t hide how happy you are.”

* Edward openly grins once you say that.

* “You’re happy too, I can feel it all the way from here.” He says holding a hand out.

* Ah your powers are leaking through

* Looks Rosalie and Carlisle just wanted to look serious when they were here

* “Of course I’m happy”

* He told you he loved you, how could you not be happy?

* He basically confirmed your wildest wishes and hopes.

* This is the happiest you’ve ever been

* “I don’t understand why you’re sitting up here honestly,” he shakes his head boyish smile curling onto his face as his eyes stay focused on the horizon. “I know you feel the same way as I do”

* He’s right, you do feel the same as him.

* Maybe for just as long as he has, you’ve just been holding yourself back because you thought he would never have those feelings for you

* Because you’re not the one who’s going to make him the happiest he could possibly be

* “Look Edward, I think you could do so much-“

* “Is this about Bella?” He interrupts, a bitter laugh when you remain silent. “Why do you think I would ever love her?”

* “The way you look at her-“

* “I don’t get that either, you talked about that last night too, I’m not sure what you’re seeing but the look I give her is of minimal tolerance.”

* ...

* Wait

* What

* “Oh cut the crap Edward, I saw the way you guys looked at each other on the stairway”

* “What stairway?”

*Is he trying to play dumb? Because honestly- you’re a little convinced with that confused puppy look he’s giving you

* “At Conner’s party, you guys were talking at the stairwell, you looked at her like she was telling you all of the universe’s secrets.”

* He looks embarrassed, a hand tangling in his hair.

* “Um- about that-”

* You caught the criminal red handed. He might like you, but he likes her too doesn’t he. Well he’s probably entranced by that scent of hers, no doubt he’ll forget all about you-

* “We were talking about you.”

* ....

* (Y/N). Exe is broken

* “While you were gone, we both came to an agreement to set our differences aside for you-”

* Why would they go that far for you, it’s not like you care-

* You remember the vitamins

* Going out of your way to include her in things,

* Driving her home even when any normal person would have just ignored the whole thing

* Oh my god, you’re Bella’s best friend

* And even worse, everyone probably thinks she’s your best friend too.

* (Y/N). Exe is broken

* “Don’t misunderstand for a second, I still find her absolutely repulsive, and whatever haze she’s got over the school is absolutely perplexing-”

* “But what about the carnation?” you interrupt.

* She’s the only one he bought a carnation for.

* “What carnation?”

* “The carnation you bought her on Valentine’s Day!”

* Sure one carnation isn’t anything compared to the bouquet he bought you, but it had to mean something

* “I didn’t buy anyone any carnations.” He tells you, his eyebrows threading together

* Oh f*ck

* f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck *f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck

* You bought Bella that carnation.

* You bought all of your friends carnations, light red ones for friendship

* “Were you jealous because you thought I bought her flowers and not you?”

*A mischievous grin arch’s onto his mouth and you hide your face in your hands

*“You were, weren’t you? That’s adorable.”

* The criminal is teasing you, only this time you can’t complain because it’s rightly deserved

* “But- then what were you talking at the lockers about?”

* Edward’s face pinches into a look of disgust.

* “She came by to rub in my face how you had given us both the same colored carnations”

* “Wait-Bella knows you felt this way about me?”

* He laughs

* “(Y/N/N), I’m pretty sure everyone knows I love you.”

* Everyone but you apparently

* Was it really all in your head?

* Edward has loved you this entire time and you just...never noticed?

* “Honestly, I love you (Y/N), but sometimes you get fixated on these ideas for no logical reason-“

* Oh there’s a logical reason alright

* “-like what possible reason could there be for me to love a human like Bella? It’s just comple-“

* “Because you’re supposed to Edward!”

* It’s the straw that finally broke the camels back.

* You tell him everything, about everything that happened in the books.

* Him falling in love with Bella, killing James, leaving her in new moon, the werewolves, the newborn army led by Victoria, their marriage and Bella’s pregnancy

* You frame it like you had a prophetic dream the night you turned, which is probably the closest way you can explain what happened without looking insane.

* Not that Edward would mind, he would probably get the best recommendation from Carlisle for a mental health institute and happily visit you three times a week with flowers and other gifts.

* You both sit in silence after you finish telling him everything, the only sound the gentle whistle of the wind.

* “So what?”

* He asks, shrugging his shoulders and looking at you like you just told him a tv show he doesn’t like is getting cancelled

* You scoff in disbelief

* “ So what? Edward she’s your soul mate!”

* “You’re my soul mate” he says plainly, he’s inched closer to you this entire time, and now his thigh is only a flew inches away from your own.

* You feel embarrassed at his words, how can he say that so easily?

*You’re still not even sure soul mates exist.

* Noticing you embarrassment he places his hand on top of yours, intertwining your fingers

* The contact makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

* “I understand that you think that story is the one I want,” he says it slowly.

* “But there’s already so many thing that are different.”

* He’s right things have changed, you know that.

* “Besides I don’t think I’m the one Bella has a crush on” he gives you a meaningful look and your eyebrows thread together.

* Wait what’s that supposed to mean

* “This world is different than the one you saw.” He squeezes your hand, and you sigh,

* It’s different because of you.

* He should have had all those things. If it weren’t for you he would have had all those things

* “Edward she can give you a baby, a real baby that’s yours!”

* There’s only one common thread for all the vampires you’ve seen that still hunger for their humanity

* They all want a child.

* What Edward is getting, it’s a miracle. A Hail Mary. The odds of something like this happening are one in one billion at best.

* He gets to have a baby, and the woman he loves. It’s a win-win.

* He sighs and squeezes your hand.

* “But I don’t want that.” He says it so bluntly, like it’s the simplest thing on earth.

*Your brain stops working.

* Well that can’t be right

* “We’ve never talked about it, but I’ve never wanted children, not even when I was a boy and still human.”

* Wait Edward doesn’t want kids?

* Your head snaps up to meet his eyes

* “I think to want to bring children into the world you have to be at peace with the world and with yourself. And I’ve never been able to have either of those things.” He shrugs, his legs swinging under him.

* “What you saw- I was probably just going along with whatever Bella wanted, but I don’t think I would genuinely want to raise a child in this world, especially not when I look like I’m seventeen for the rest of my life”

* That makes sense.

*Edward’s always been sensitive about his age. He looks older than 17, probably because of the venom.

*But he’s the youngest of all his siblings, you know deep down he can handle the vampirism,

* But he can’t handle being a child for all of eternity.

* “But even if I did want kids, I want an eternity with you even more.”

* He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back, gulping the burning in your throat

* Whether it’s from thirst or the overwhelming emotions you’re not sure

* “Okay.” You finally say after several long moment of silence

* “Okay, you’ll be mine for eternity or...”

* You slap him lightly on the chest and he barks laughing

* “Okay...we can... date.” You say it haltingly, carefully even.

* “Like humans” you add for good measure

* You expect a bit of protest from Edward, he’s been waiting for you for over a decade now, you can’t think of a man alive who would be alright with just dating.

* But Edward smiles like you just agreed to marry him. He puts a hand on your face, and caresses your cheek with his thumb.

* “Alright, we’ll date like humans do.”

* You’re still a little worried but you find yourself smiling when Edward presses his forehead against your own.

* His lips meeting yours.

* “(Y/N) and Edward sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” You tease when he pulls away and he laughs again

* “You’re the worst you know that?”

* “Yet you still love me,” you tease “you loooooove me, you waanaaaa spend eeeeternity with meeee.” You sing and he laughs.

* “Suddenly I’m regretting my decision to court you.”

* You sit in silence for a second, enjoying his scent.

* It feels safe here

* It feels like home

* “Are you ready to go inside?”

* You should, you feel a lot better now, but-

* You groan and bury your face in his shoulder.

* “It’s going to be so embarrassing, everyone’s going to know what happened and Emmett is never going to stop with the sex jokes”

* Edward just grins, he can’t believe after waiting for so long, you’re his now.

* It feels like a dream

* You’re right though, it’s is going to be super embarrassing going back home after this.

* He gets why you chose to wait it out in a tree

* “Yeah, let’s stay out here for a while longer.” He says wrapping his arms around you.

BONUS:

* Rosalie is peering out the window with gold opera glasses to her hand

* “Oh! He leaned in closer! I think he’s holding their hand”

* Alice groans beside her

* “No they’re just talking, they’re going to be doing that a lot”

* “What else do you see Alice?” Jasper asks from behind her, watching the tree you and Edward are sitting on intently

* “I’m not sure...it’s all changing really fast, in one they make up and go back to being friends,”

* Emmett groans from behind her, he can’t handle anymore yearning or weird sex talks with his brother

* “In another they push Edward of the branch and say: “oh why don’t you just go back to Bella you human lover””

* Rosalie shudders, well that’s not good

* Honestly she should have just told you Bella and Edward had come to an agreement to be civil around one another for your benefit while you were gone

* They basically bonded over how much they like you

* The carnation was probably just a sign of that truce, if it was even from him

* She’s got a feeling it was probably from you and you just forgot, but she didn’t want to embarrass you

* Besides she figured it might be the final push you need to admit your feelings to him

* “They’re kissing! You guys they’re kissing!” Alice shrieks, and all of them turn their attention back to you

* Ah so you are

* “And so end the brooding chronicles” Jasper whispers and Rosalie hides a laugh

* “I would call them the yearning chronicles” Alice adds

* “Have you considered that maybe the reason they’re out there is because they want privacy?” Carlisle says without looking up from his open newspaper.

* The four of them shuffle awkwardly before walking away from the large window

* “You too Esme” Carlisle says

* Esme sighs, tucking her black opera glasses into her apron

* “Don’t blame me when we don’t have anything to say at the wedding when it comes time for a toast” she mumbles, walking back to the kitchen to finish her cookies

* “A wedding?”

* Queue Carlisle half sobbing half wheezing into his newspaper

* “Not one, but two kids leaving the family?”

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10 @alluring-venus @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse @im-tired-not-sleepy @emmettcullenisahimbo @my-super-musical-life @smolvampiregirl @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @mihikaahujaaa

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #twilight headcanons #twilight fanfiction #twilight reader insert #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #carlisle cullen imagine #roslaie hale imagine #emmett cullen imagine #midnight sun #superhero--imagines #waking up in twilight #waking up in tiwlight part 17

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years

Text

Dancing with Our Hands Tied (6)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut (because of course there would be)

Previous Chapter // Masterlist

The arm around your waist was heavy, tattooed, and most definitely not Charlie’s.

“Pierre,” you hissed. “Get up.” He stirred and tugged you closer. You pushed back against his chest, sounds of struggle falling from your lips as he curled his arms around you. “Let go of me.”

“YN, I’m severely hungover,” he grunted. “Can we fight later?”

“No.”

It’d been two weeks since you ended up in Pierre’s bed after a failed attempt to tell him off and since then, you’d slept with him at least three more times. You fell into a strict routine, one that didn’t include sleepovers. Surprisingly, though, you didn’t put up a fight when he started to nod off on the pillow the night before.

You shoved him one last time, this time successfully, and pulled yourself from bed. The first thing you did was pull the shades back to allow light into the room. He exclaimed at the invasion and pulled a pillow over his head.

“I’ll make you coffee, but then you gotta leave because I have things to do.”

Pierre watched you leave and sighed as soon as you were out of sight. Before getting back to your apartment the night before, he was yearning for you. Each time you were near him, he felt his hands twitch. Your midriff was exposed, jeans sitting low on your hips, and each time you passed, he wanted to sink his fingers into your flesh, or better yet, his teeth. But he couldn’t do that, not with all the eyes around you, not when Josh was clearly confused by the lack of fighting going on.

It felt like he could breathe when you texted him to come back to your place, and when he finally slipped through your front door and his lips met yours, he was satisfied.

“You know,” he spoke as he entered the kitchen where you were making coffee. His voice was still rough from sleep. “We’ve never fucked in the morning.”

“And I’m okay with that.”

He laughed out loud, shuffling to grab a mug from the cabinets above him. You reached out and placed it back inside, then handed him a to-go cup. He rolled his eyes.

“You’re the worst host.”

“That’s not what you were saying when I was blowing you last night.”

There was a knock at the door that prompted both your heads to snap up in confusion.

“That better not be one of the boys,” you grumbled. “I don’t think I could explain your shirtless presence in my kitchen.”

“Sure, you could,” he murmured, dropping his hands to either side of the counter beside you. He leaned in close, whispering, “You could just tell them what you tell me every time I’m inside you; I fuck you so good. You just can’t get enough.”

If there was one thing you’d learned about Pierre throughout these past few weeks, it was that he knew exactly how to throw your own attitude right back at you.

“Gross, Pierre,” you said, slipping beneath his arms.

“You were the one that started talking about giving me head before either of us has even had coffee!”

You only allowed yourself to laugh once you were out of the kitchen and away from his ego.

The person started to knock again and you stepped up to the door to pull it open, revealing your overly excited parents.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, panic in your eyes as they pushed past you to enter the apartment. “What do you mean?” your father asked as he helped your mother shed her jacket and hang it on the hook beside the door. “It’s your birthday! You didn’t think we’d forget to celebrate with you, right?”

“A warning would’ve been nice,” you muttered, thoughts fleeting to the shirtless man in the next room. You stood in their way, blocking the path to the kitchen in hopes that they’d just head straight to the living room and you could discreetly get rid of Pierre. Your mother had other plans, grabbing a cooler bag from your father’s hand before marching to put the food she’d brought away in the fridge.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, hands fluttering up to her eyes as she shielded herself from Pierre’s naked chest. You were only a step behind her, your father two behind you, and when she turned to look at you, you could see the blush on her cheeks. “I didn’t know you had company.” “Pierre’s leaving.”

“Pierre? No way! He’s gotta join us for your birthday brunch!” your father exclaimed. Pierre’s eyes flickered to you and then went back to your father. “We still have to thank you for dealing with Sadie when she came to visit, and also for dealing with this one every day.”

“You have your work cut out for you with her,” your mother grumbled from where she stood in the kitchen, already reorganizing all your draws and cabinets.

“Just send him a fruit basket or something.”

“YN,” your mother chastised, plates set on the counter for just a moment so she could glare at you. “If your father wants to treat him to brunch, then we will treat him to brunch.”

“I love brunch,” Pierre spoke, voice just above a whisper. You glared at him and that stupid little smirk toying at the corner of his lip, but then your father clapped in excitement. “Besides, it’s your birthday,” he emphasized, eyes wide. “I couldn’t miss that.”

“Great! Then, it’s settled,” he spoke. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom, and maybe your little boyfriend will put on a t-shirt.”

You spoke in unison.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I’m not her boyfriend.”

But your dad was already down the hall, not that he would’ve listened to either of you anyway.

Pierre narrowed his eyes at you, you stuck your tongue out at him, and then he tried to catch it between his fingers, but you shoved him away to the hallway.

“Put on a damn shirt.”

As soon as he disappeared, your mother was cooing, “That’s Pierre?”

“Why do you say his name like that? Sadie says his name like that too.”

“Well, I mean, look at him.”

“I’d prefer not to,” you grumbled. She began chastising you about how miserable you were, and how there was a handsome man right in front of you, right in your kitchen as a matter of fact, and you better take advantage of it! You’re another year older! But, you let the words fall on deaf ears before leaving to find Pierre in your bedroom.

He was still shirtless, shuffling about the room for his belongings. He glanced up when you entered, and smiled as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” you said. “I don’t know when yours is either.”

“Mine’s June 24th.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeated. He rolled his eyes at you and pulled the shirt over his head. “This isn’t how this is supposed to work. We fuck and you leave, or I leave. That’s it. You don’t need to spend the day with me and my parents. Are you out of your mind?”

“I think it'll be fun,” he said. “Maybe not for you, but definitely for me, and that’s my favorite kind of fun.”

---

From: Sadie

WTF? Why is Pierre at brunch with you guys? What’s happening? Call me ASAP. I’m freaking out!!!!!

You and Sadie were freaking out for entirely different reasons. She was freaking out because she thought this meant something. You were freaking out because you were stuck with Pierre for longer than you ever wanted to be.

“You’re one of Josh’s friends?”

“Teammates,” you corrected. Pierre took a glance over at you with a soft smile. “They play for the Blue Jackets together.”

“Oh! Oh, wow,” your mother remarked. She gave you not-so subtle wide eyes that screamed, again, how perfect she thought he was. “That’s an excellent job!”

“I’m very lucky to get to do what I love for a living.”

“And you two met because of Josh?”

“Yes,” you answered tersely, not wanting to entertain this conversation for the sole purpose of keeping your mother’s nose out of your personal, or not-so personal, life. But Pierre gave in to her, as you expected him to.

“Yeah, he introduced us during my rookie season,” he answered after swallowing a forkful of eggs. “I’ll admit that I made a really bad first impression,” he began, meeting your eyes over the mimosa you were bringing to your lips. “But she never really gave me the chance to fix it, so we just went on hating each other for a really long time.”

“Well, look at you two now,” your mother raved, waving her hands between the two of you. “All is well.”

“What fixed it?” your dad asked. “I mean, this one can be as stubborn as a mule.”

“Dad.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but sometimes you just make your mind up and that’s that. You don’t budge. I want to know how he got you to change your mind! Teach me your ways, Pierre.”

“Uh, well,” he began, choking a bit on the drink in his mouth. He knew he couldn’t give them the real reasons. He couldn’t explain that the only way you could stand each other was if he was inside of you, so he met your eyes with a look of uncertainty.

“It was after he helped Sadie,” you answered for him. “I figured that if he’d ruin his own night to make sure she didn’t die of alcohol poisoning then maybe he wasn’t as bad as I thought he was.”

Pierre looked up at you again, eyes softer than before, but you avoided his gaze and instead focused on the food in front of you.

Conversation picked up again, but it didn’t involve him. Your parents asked about work, you asked about home, and the conversation ended up circling back to Sadie once more. Pierre remained silent, taking in the relationship you had with your parents and how much you cared for your sister. He felt like he saw another side to you during brunch, a side that every other guy on the team had experienced and he’d yet to see.

When the bill came, Pierre immediately reached for it, but your dad was faster and you yourself had placed your hand on his to push it away.

“They made you come,” you reminded him. “You don’t have to pay.”

“I wanted to come,�� he corrected you. He leaned forward to speak directly to your father. “Mr. YLN, at least let me pick up the tip.”

Your dad sized him up for a moment, then sighed, “Fine.”

Pierre sat up victoriously, turning his hand in yours to squeeze the fingers that were resting against it before taking some cash out of his wallet. You flushed at the intimate moment and pulled your hand away.

“Your father has one last request,” Mom announced as the group of you exited the restaurant. You turned to face her on the sidewalk, panic in your eyes. She glanced at your father, already nose deep in his phone. “Honey?”

“Huh?”

“Your next birthday surprise for YN?”

“I’m really okay with the birthday surprises, guys,” you murmured. “You being here is definitely enough.”

Pierre stifled a laugh beside you, and this time didn’t earn a glare. “Your father wants to go mini-golfing,” Mom butt in. “It’s this indoor glow-in-the-dark mini-golf he’s been following on Facebook for months now. If he doesn’t go, I’m gonna hear it for the next three months.”

“I can head home,” Pierre spoke, low and intended for you, but your father clapped him on the shoulder.

“No way, hockey star, I want to see that golf swing of yours.”

“Dad!”

“It’s not every day I get to hang out with an NHL player!”

And that’s how you ended up playing golf, in the dark, with your parents and your fuck buddy.

You never thought you’d be thankful to have Pierre around, but you were glad he stayed for mini-golf. Truthfully, you’d never been very athletic, but your dad loved sports, so you played them to humor him. Having Pierre with you just meant that all the competitiveness could stay between the men and you could enjoy sucking at sports with your mom.

Then, you started losing all the golf balls. Honestly, your dad should’ve expected this very outcome when he decided to bring you to a glow-in-the-dark mini-golf place.

You lost your ball, and then Pierre offered his and you lost that one too. Three holes later, there was only one ball left and your parents, as well as Pierre, were doubtful that you wouldn’t lose the last one.

“We’ll go get some more,” your dad muttered. “Hopefully, you don’t lose those too.”

You glared at him, earning a chuckle from both of your parents before they walked off to the front desk. As soon as they were gone, Pierre asked, “You’re not very good at this, huh?”

The smile was evident in his voice.

“I don’t get three months of the year for golf practice like you do,” you muttered, refocusing on the club in your hand. “So, no, I’m not very good at this.”

“Well, for starters, you’re holding the putter all wrong,” he said. His voice was closer now and when you peeked back at him, he was only a few steps away. “Can I show you how you’re supposed to hold it or are you going to hit me over the head with it?”

“Try your luck.”

Pierre stepped up behind you, hands curling over yours to fix their placement. He peeled your fingers off the club, then placed them a bit higher than they had been. His breath fanned across your neck and your shoulders pulled up as a reaction, the tuft of air sending shockwaves through your body. He almost leaned in to place a kiss against your skin, but shook his head as if to scold himself for even thinking about it.

“Don’t hit the ball too hard,” he spoke before taking a step back. You did as he coached you to and the ball went in the hole with one put. You exclaimed at your hole-in-one and twirled around to share the moment with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders to tug you into his chest.

“Atta girl,” he remarked in the same voice he used in the bedroom. His hand trailed along your spine and down to your ass, fingers curling into the flesh as he drank you in. You almost got lost in the moment with him, despite yourself, but then your parents appeared over his shoulder and you were shoving him away.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Tiger Woods over here,” Pierre answered, nodding at you. “She just got her first hole-in-one.”

“She’s never done that before,” your dad laughed heartily. His hand came down to pat Pierre’s shoulder. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on her.”

“Maybe,” he repeated, eyebrows quirking up at you. The twitch of your lips gave away the smile that you were suppressing, but he let it go, considering it a small victory.

---

Your parents said goodbye after mini-golf, citing the long drive home as the reason for an early departure, but your mother gave you and Pierre a fleeting look that gave you the impression that they were only leaving to give you time with him. You must’ve said it a hundred times in a hundred different ways that you weren’t dating him, but your mom always liked to believe her own delusions and you could never change her mind.

Pierre was quiet as you drove away from mini-golf and in the direction of your apartment building, but you weren’t any more talkative than he was. How could you speak when the day sent you into a tailspin? For the first time ever, you enjoyed being around him and when the day was coming to an end, you didn’t want to see him go.

“Are you hungry?” you asked, voice light, simultaneously trying to keep the day from ending and also all serious conversation at bay.

“Yes, starving,” he answered. “It feels like we ate forever ago.”

“Do you wanna grab something quick?”

Pierre nodded and ended up pulling into a McDonalds not far from your apartment. He ordered a large meal after you ordered your usual, and then he threw a few other unnecessary things, like a kid’s meal and a third McFlurry.

When you got back to the apartment, he spread it all out like a buffet and you filled your paper plates with food in silence. He felt like he was struggling to come up with something to say to you for the first time ever. It was always easy to rile you up and get you talking, but he was at a loss now and he didn’t have a clue what to say.

He settled on, “I like your dad. Not that it matters, or whatever, but he’s a funny guy. Loves to chirp you almost as much as I do.”

“That’s why I can put up with you,” you responded. “I’ve had years of dealing with him.”

“Did you just compare me to your father?”

“Don’t be gross,” you barked, smacking his arm. He laughed heartily at that, crinkles at the edge of his eyes as he dug into the fries in front of him. You laughed with him, amazingly so.

Conversation died as you ate with both of your minds running at warp speed. It was hard to make sense of the day, of how much you enjoyed each other’s presence, when you were still together. But you didn’t want him to go, and he didn’t want to leave, so neither of you even suggested it.

As he started cleaning up what was left of his meal, your phone chimed and Charlie’s name flashed across the screen. He met your eyes over the phone momentarily before you unlocked it to read the message. You stared at it, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought, then responded quickly and placed the phone face down on the counter.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” he spoke. “And then, uh, I guess I’ll head out.”

He disappeared down the hall and left you feeling slightly stupid after texting Charlie that you were busy. In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have done that, but you had and now you needed to convince Pierre to stay. That’s what you wanted anyway, right?”

When he came back to the kitchen, you were throwing your food out and as soon as he stepped in to grab some of his belongings, you stepped up in front of him.

“You’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“Don’t act surprised,” he murmured. He took a step forward, forcing you to tilt your chin up further to keep eye contact with him. His thumb came up to caress your cheekbone. “You wanted me gone all day.”

“And now I want you to stay,” you whispered. You pulled him closer from the belt loops and watched his eyes rake over your body. “At least for a little while longer.”

“Why are you playing with my head?”

The smirk you shared with him was wicked as you answered, “Because it’s fun.”

His fingers slid to the back of your neck while his other arm curled around your waist to pull you into his chest. You kissed in the kitchen for what felt like an eternity, much longer than you’d ever spent on doing it before, and finally, he lifted you up to carry you down the hall to your bedroom.

He laid you back on the bed and undressed you slowly. He kissed each inch of skin as it was exposed from beneath the fabric covering you and his hands were everywhere, squeezing the meat that he hadn’t been able to touch all day, the skin he was dying to touch. He kissed down your stomach to your thong, finger hooking beneath the waistband to tug them down and get you completely naked in front of him.

“YN, tu es si belle,” he whispered, eyes flickering back up to your face. You flushed beneath his gaze and gasped as he situated your legs over his shoulders and leaned in, breath fanning across your core. He kissed the inside of your thighs while his blue eyes drank you in. Your chest heaved in anticipation.

He held your hips down as he dove in, and within minutes your back was arched and your legs began to shake over his shoulders. You cried out as you came, fingers curled into his hair, grinding against his mouth and nose as he worked you through it.

When he finally pulled away, he kissed up your inner thigh to let you come down from your high. Then, he crawled up the bed to hover over you, shuttering as your hands slid beneath his t-shirt to pull it over his head. His jeans were next, and finally, his boxers. When his cock was finally free, he reached over to the drawer and grabbed a condom. You slid it on for him and he dropped his head to your shoulder at the touch of your fingers around him.

The moment it was on, you began to flip onto your stomach. That’s how he usually wanted you, but he stopped you from moving and gathered your wrists in his hand to pin them above your head. His lips met yours again, desperate and needy.

You felt the head of his cock against your mound and groaned in sexual frustration, so he reached down with his free hand and aligned himself with your core.

“You’re okay?” he asked. You nodded, bottom lip pinned between your teeth to the point of breaking the skin. He kissed you once more, hoping that you’d relax with him and you did. With his knee, he nudged your legs apart and then he pushed his head past your folds. As you arched, his lips met your collarbone.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

The pet name set you on fire, but you could hardly focus on it as he thrust into you. The movement of his hips was shallow and slow, nothing like the other times he’d been between your thighs. He held you close, chest-to-chest. The level of intimacy so intense compared to those times you’d shared before when you were simply using each other to chase a feeling. This was different, and you both knew it.

“Luc,” you sighed as he filled you up, stilling inside of you for a moment to breathe and take in the way you spoke his name--a name you’d only ever called him once and he’d wanted to hear every day since then. “Please.”

“Patience,” he spoke, rolling into you some more. “I’ll take care of you, but I wanna take my time.”

So, you let him take his time and basked into the feeling of the way he filled you up and surrounded you. You listened to the way he spoke to you, softly and often in French, and you noticed the way he responded to your body, the way that no other man ever had. He read you like a book, as terrifying and insane as it felt to realize that, and you couldn’t get enough.

He finally dropped your hands and immediately, your nails curled into his back as he worked your body. He propped your leg up on his hip to thrust even deeper than he had before and with each roll of his hips, you felt him deep inside you. You moaned against his shoulder and he cursed loudly in French as you rolled your hips to match the movement of his.

“I want to cum with you,” you whispered in his ear. He sighed, then nodded before pulling back to thrust into you with a little more power behind it. His hands found your hips as he leaned back on his knees and thrust into you, pulling you down onto his cock as he did so. You were a mess beneath him and he watched your breasts bounce as he fucked you.

“Cum, baby,” he whispered, returning to the position he’d been in moments ago. He knew you were close, he was right behind you, and as he returned to the previous position, you shouted out. “Come on. With me.”

“Luc, you’re so good,” you moaned. “You fuck me so good.”

Pierre’s hand found your clit, thumb circling the sensitive nub as his lips met yours in a rough kiss. His heart pounds in his chest as your orgasm finally reached you, whimpering and moaning beneath him as he chased his own high. It wouldn’t take long with you unraveling beneath him and, finally, he cums, hips stuttering as he filled up the condom. He dropped his weight onto you, breathing ragged, and your hands began to scratch the skin of his back soothingly as you both caught your breath.

About a minute later, he rolled over onto his back and discarded the condom while you ran to the bathroom. He rested against the headboard and waited for you to come back, heart still hammering in his chest from an orgasm like no other. You returned and his eyes tracked your movement across the room.

“Do you want me to go?”

You looked up at him, a bit like a deer in headlights, and answered, “Um, no. You can stay, if you want.”

“Okay,” he said, voice cracking just a bit. He coughed to clear his throat and nodded. “I’ll stay.”

#pierre luc dubois fic #pierre luc dubois story #pierre luc dubois imagine #pierre luc dubois x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey rpf #mk writes #dwoht fic

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migilini · 3 years

Text

What The Heart Wants - Charlie Gillespie

Request: The reader is madly in love with Charlie who is her best friend but he’s dating and in love with her sister yk? Make it angst and sadcharlie

a/n: Sorry it took me so long! I’m so stressed with school atm so i bearly had time to write at all. I still hope you like it and that I went into the right direction. Don’t know how angsty it is.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: a little angst

MASTERLIST

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As a teenager you spent a lot of your free time watching pretty much every rom-com that was out there, the thought of true love ignited a spark of hope in your heart. You loved the way that the characters on screen always were meant to be together, the way their love just seemed to be or else life isn't worth living.

Maybe your image of love was flawed and unrealistic. Maybe you always fell in love with the idea of a person rather than the person itself. Maybe your standards were too high and maybe that's why all your previous relationships didn't seem to work out.

And then you met him. Kinda ironic really, love, at first sight, was always your least favourite trope. But there he was, sitting alone at the table in the otherwise crowded cafeteria. His brown hair fell into his eyes while he played with the mashed potatoes on his plate, he was bopping his head to something. You took a big breath, collected all your courage that you didn't use growing up and sat down across from him.

The stranger looked up with furrowed eyebrows "S-sorry there isn't another free table." you stuttered and sent him a small, flustered smile. The boy took out an earbud "Sorry?" you started to blush, your eyes wide "Oh I- sorry I- was uhm... is it okay if I sit here?"

"Yeah yeah sure." the stranger answered and shot you a smile and gosh was that smile beautiful. If this was your way to die then so be it. "I'm Asher by the way."

"Y/N. Nice to meet you." you waved with three fingers.

After that Asher took you under his wings, introduced you to all his friends, took you to parties and most importantly helped to grow your self-confidence. You always knew who you were but with him, it was the first time where you could actually show off the real you, there wasn't a part of you that you had to hide to fit in.

Nevertheless, he wasn't your best friend. You two spent a lot of time together yes, but you didn't share a lot of secrets, your topics always being superficial. Yet, the crush on him only grew. The two of you were picture book perfect. Asher threw you into the water at the beach, screamed to lyrics in the car with you or even went shopping with you.

"Just this one party I promise," he whined one day, shoving more dresses in your chest. You huffed "Is this why you agreed to come thrifting with me? To get on my good side?" Asher smiled cheekily "Guilty. I know you don't know the people there but I really want you to go." he tried to persuade.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, trying to hide the smirk on your lips. You liked to see him throw a little tantrum. "Fine. But you'll pay for my dress."

The host of the party seemed nice enough and you hoped to god that the guests were the same. LED Lights illuminated the living room in a dark purple. The music blaring so loud, that you could feel the beat in your heart. "Y/N this is my good buddy Charlie. Charlie this is Y/N one of the baddest people I know." Asher screamed over the music, one of his arms draped over your figure. The party just getting started as more people walked through the front door.

You gave Charlie a hug and smiled up at him. "Hi!"

"Hello." he smiled back and your breath got stuck in your throat for a good second. Suddenly Asher had competition for the prettiest smile in the world. The boy with the mischievous spark in his eye really challenged your rankings.

You didn't intend to spend the night practically glued to Charlies hip. Asher was nowhere to be found, probably smoking somewhere with his buddies and the two of you were just naturally drawn to each other. He goes to get a new drink and a minute later, without discussing it beforehand, you do the exact same thing. Or you go on the small balcony to get some fresh air and Charlie joins you a couple of minutes later, casually leaning against the railing next to you.

"I figured that I would find you out here." he nearly whispered into the night. "Yeah it seems like you've been stalking me the whole night." you teased with raised eyebrows, a slight smirk playing on your lips. Charlie's hand immediately covered his heart. "I would never! And there I was, thinking I had the honour of you stalking me."

"Alright, Teds. If it makes you happy yes of course I was chasing after your pretty ass." you winked and he let out a heartful laugh.

"Teds?" he asked.

You shrugged your shoulders and slid down the railing, your front, facing the glass doors. The party inside was raging, with people dancing, kissing, talking and laughing. Only the faint noise of the newest pop song carried its way out to you.

"You're wearing a shirt with many teddy bears on it. It only made sense."

You and Charlie spent the rest of the night outside, the conversation flowing naturally and if there was a quick silence it wasn't awkward at all. Lucky for you, the party was in the middle of the summer so you didn't mind that much that you forgot to bring a jacket outside.

After the party you and Charlie spent a lot of time together, going to museums, road trips, camping or even just hanging out in one of your apartments. Inert weeks he was your best friend and over the years of friendship, you started to develop feelings for the Canadian.

He had helped you calm down right before your first date with Asher, who finally had the guts to ask you out and picked up the pieces after you got broken up with. Asher's last words before he left, never leaving your mind: "Truthfully I think you're in love with someone else Y/N. You just haven't figured it out yet but I know. I look at you the way you look at them."

Several months later, on a trip with your family and Charlie, you realised that Asher was indeed telling you the truth and you had been slowly falling for someone else.

It was late evening, the stars started to creep up on the sky, while the sun sank lower and lower behind the trees, illuminating the world in a pretty blend of oranges and pinks. The group sat around a small fire that cracked every now and then, filling the air with warmth. Everybody was exhausted from the big hike. Trees rustled somewhere in the background. A soft melody caught you off guard, completely ripping you out of your own thoughts.

Charlie sat a couple of feet away from you, across from your sister and mother. He was playing his guitar with no special song in mind. He settled on a melody that you didn't seem to recognize but you didn't care. Charlie looked beautiful.

Over the last year, he grew out his hair, which was now in a loose bun in the crook of his neck, some stray hairs falling in his face. The warm light from the fire highlighted his features in the exact right way. His eyes sparkled with joy. Before he started to sing the song, he looked over at you and smiled. It was the same smile that haunted you since then. The one that made your heart beat faster, the one that still took your breath away, the thing you couldn't shake off and also the one thing you couldn't live without.

While you stared at Charlie during the duration of the song, your heart swelling at the sight of him. He did the same to your sister. His eyes memorising every crook of her face from her arched eyebrows down to the roundness of her lips.

It didn't surprise you at all. Growing up everybody either wanted to be her or be with her. She was naturally gorgeous with long, luscious hair and an amazing body. She had decent grades and was always nice to everybody. The embodiment of the girl next door. It was hard to build a reputation that wasn't ‘Sam’s little sister’.

Looking back, that was probably why you liked Asher's attention so much. It was the first time someone saw you for yourself.

But what did shock you was that eventually, the two became a couple. Looks-wise they fit perfectly together that much was true but you couldn't wrap your head around them when it came to personality. From your romcoms, you knew that opposites attract yet Sam and Charlie are more than opposites. Not to say that you didn't love your sister, you really did, that was the main reason why the news shocked you so much. He liked to travel the world, not to be tied to one place for a long time. He was spontaneous and carefree, always down for a new adventure or a new adrenaline kick. Sam on the other hand wanted to take over dad's business in her hometown where she already went to school and college. Ever since she was little, she dreamed of a big family that was gonna grow up in the house she grew up in. Sam didn't like leaving her little bubble, her days always planned down to the second.

Neither of them noticed your heart breaking a little more every time they kissed right in front of you or the longing looks you gave Charlie. Both tried to include you in their adventures, taking you to the cinema with them, to IKEA and Disneyland. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't quite meant for each other. However, you kept your mouth shut just, always smiling their way, not mentioning that Charlie never went on Road Trips anymore or that Sam seemed to smile less.

“I think I want to marry her.”

You nearly spat out your drink, the fist in front of your mouth only holding back a little. The water dripped down your arm and onto the couch.

“What now?” you coughed and turned to the other person chilling at your apartment.

“You heard me right. My acting career is taking off and all the travelling made me realise that she is the one.” he smiled with a lopsided grin.

You furrowed your eyebrows, desperately trying to hide the hurt that flashed in your eyes. After trying, again and again, to get over Charlie you lost all hope. No other man even slightly compared to him, you tried to forget about him you really did. However, your heart believes that he was the man for you.

“Don’t the two of you want completely different things?” you switched into the best-friend mode, locking the jealous side away.

Now it was Charlie's turn to be confused, “What do you mean? We’ve been together for nearly two years now.”

“I just mean that she never expressed the desire to travel the world. She wants to have a big family and be a mom. Is she gonna travel to your jobs with you? Are you giving up your career to be at home with her? I just think there are so many things the two of you need to discuss before you take this step.” you expressed your concern while playing with the hem of the blanket covering you.

He stared at you for moments. Neither of you was speaking, the gears in his brain working in overload.

“Look I’m not saying that you shouldn't ask her to marry you. If that's what makes you happy, be happy. It's what I care about. I’m just saying you have a completely different view of the world.” you rambled, your eyes not meeting his anymore.

Was he mad? He normally spoke his thoughts out loud.

He lets out a sigh as he rubbed his hands over his face “Yes I know that you're right...but my gut is telling me that she's the one...” your heart cracked “and I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't ask, even if it ends up not working and you were right with your concerns. But knowing us, we will make it work. Compromise a lot, build a worldview together as a married couple.”

He smiled at you and your heartbeat quickened “I also kinda need your blessing.” he sheepishly said, slightly biting his lip.

You tried to keep your thoughts clear. “My blessing?”

Charlie nodded excitedly “Yes! I figured since you’re my best friend and she's also your sister I would ask you if you would be okay with that… I know we never asked if you're comfortable with us dating in the first place.”

“Oh, Teds," you whined, using the old nickname you had for him. "No need to ask me! As I said your happiness is my priority.” you smiled so wide that it hurt your cheeks, blinking rapidly to dissolve the tears that formed in your eyes.

He tackled you in a bone-crushing hug, placing wet and sloppy kisses all over your forehead. “Thank you. thank you. thank you! You don't know how much this means to me!”

Growing up, watching the Notebook, About Time, 10 things to hate about you, PS: I love you and many others, love always seemed inevitable, somehow it would work out. You would've never thought that you would be jealous of your sister's engagement. Who would have predicted that both sisters were gonna fall for the same guy, that one sister was happy while the other hated herself for yearning for him as well?

The 25-year-old version of you despised the 15-year-old version for loving these goddamn rooms, for believing in a soulmate, one true love, love for everyone but mostly for believing in an own happy ending.

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Taglist: @alluringworld

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie angst #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie one shot

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zecretsanta · 3 years

Text

FIC: Three Cups Short of a Bluebird

To: @miraicrystal

From: @caramellum

Hi hi! I tried to include snippets from as many of your prompts as I possibly could. I hope you enjoy your gift, and that you have a lovely holiday! 🥰

AO3

Aoi Kurashiki was no stranger to nightmares. It was, he thought, a fair casualty in his rather grisly line of work; something nowhere near the correct magnitude for an equal karmic exchange, and yet just irksome enough to be a real thorn in his side.

The content of such dreams would perhaps be of no surprise to anyone that knew him. There were gleaming knives drawn so readily, so swiftly, he hardly registered the predetermined bite of the blade as it came down so cruelly between his shoulders.

Sometimes, he instead saw the chapel room bathed in a pool of stained glass light; eerily silent, except for the steady beat of muffled fists against a coffin lid—a staccato that slowly faded as the clock struck six, like a wax candle flame sputtering as it neared the end of its wick.

And then, on occasion, she was there. The figure in black robes, veiled so mysteriously behind a mask just as her intentions behind honeyed words. The cloud of smoke surrounding her dark silhouette twisted and curled before dissolving in the crisp November air, the light breeze from the apartment window fanning her hair like a halo as her loose hood dipped behind her back.

But it wasn’t the figure herself that made the vision a nightmare—oh, no, certainly not. The sight of his sister living, breathing, and corporeal before his eyes was enough to quell even the harshest of anxieties twisting Aoi’s gut.

No, was not her bulky gas mask that sent chills down his spine, but rather how she looked when she finally took it off.

“Aoi,” she would whisper. “He looks so small.”

Aoi would very much beg to differ. Junpei Tenmyouji was many things, but small wasn’t particularly one of them. The man seemed the very textbook definition of average—at least, on the surface. “Pretty sure the Soporil didn’t shrink him, ‘Kane.”

She wouldn’t reply immediately. She very rarely did; at least, not when the gears were turning in that brilliant head of hers. At her feet, the brunette man who held her heart would lay still, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was alive at all. “That’s not what I mean. He just…” The breath would always catch in her throat. Her eyes would shine dangerously, though the tears never fell. She never let them fall. Not since the day she ceased to become a child, having seen herself live and die a billion times over, in a billion different ways.

Perhaps Aoi had not witnessed those infinite demises, but even the once was enough.

“Yeah,” he would mutter. He would scoop the sleeping man gently from the floor, reminded suddenly of another, much smaller brunette; one lying feverish and alone on the chapel floor, her consciousness incinerated just as her form in another time. “I know what you mean.”

That particular dream was so vivid, so real, that he thought perhaps he might be SHIFTing. It wouldn’t be out of the question, Akane once mused. She herself would occasionally slip between dimensions if she wasn’t careful. Who was to say the same couldn’t happen when one was sleeping; when they were at their most vulnerable; when their thoughts ran wild, untamed by the inherent reason of consciousness?

It was for this reason that the dream, despite the inevitable pang of melancholy, was perhaps one of the more stable constants in Aoi’s life. He knew it like the back of his hand. He knew the creak of the window frame as they made their escape under cover of night. He knew the way she squeezed his hand even before he set Junpei in the back of the van; how he squeezed it back, and she had to struggle to pry it free, giggling softly as he intentionally tightened his grip. He knew the gentle hum of crickets as they drove the empty Nevada highway; knew how the moon and the stars shone brighter through the windows that night than any city lights.

And most of all, he knew the look in Akane’s eyes when all the pieces had fallen into place—all the best cards in her own hand, with a royal flush hidden firmly up her sleeve. Players 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, and 9 slumbered peacefully as the Zero duo stood in the vast, soon-to-be-flooded hall of Building Q. They said nothing and everything all at once. Even so, spurred perhaps by formality and finality, she spoke.

“Are you ready?” she would say. Despite the inflection, it wasn’t a question. The telepathic race of thoughts connecting their minds left little to the imagination. She knew he was ready, just as she knew she had been born for this day.

“Nah.” Aoi would feign a yawn, cracking his neck from side to side. “Was thinkin’ I might catch some Zs instead. Think Hazuki would mind if I took the bottom bunk?”

Akane would almost smile, her eyes darting to the line of doors covering the hall. “Yes. I think she just might.”

But this wasn’t how the dream went. Not tonight.

“Aoi Kurashiki.”

The man in question groaned, stirred abruptly from a deep slumber. Could one be woken from a dream, by another dream? He dared to crack open an eye. Even in his slumber, he could use every tactical advantage that he could get.

There was the figure, bathed in moonlight, dressed in black. Even in the dark, the ominous visage of the gas mask could not be mistaken. Ah, so it was this dream again.

And yet… was Akane’s voice always that deep? Even under the layers of morphing software embedded in the mask, there was a confident, distinctive lilt to her voice that Aoi would recognize anywhere. In its place, there was now an undertone of bass; of gruffness; of… well, not his sister.

In order to make that connection, however, one would require at bare minimum two functioning brain cells. At present, Aoi was working with half of one, at best.

“Aoi Kurashiki,” the figure declared once again. “Please wake up.”

Aoi moaned, shoving a pillow over his head. It was far too early for these sorts of thoughts. “‘S okay, ‘Kane. Just Soporil. He’ll… be… ngh…”

The familiar embrace of drowsiness clouded his mind. He had just crept back into the realm of unconsciousness when a pair of muscular arms wrapped around his torso, plucking him abruptly from the mound of blankets like a ripe apple from a high branch.

“GAH!” Aoi cried. The winter air pricked at his skin like tiny, blizzard-like needles. The curtains of his bedroom whipped back and forth under the barrage of weather, shoved harshly to the side to expose the open window. “What the fuck Akane! It’s… It’s like…” His eyes flicked to the alarm clock, its red LED display piercing through the darkness. “It’s fuckin’ four in the morning!”

“Actually, it’s 4:08, to be precise.” The figure kicked open the bedroom door, carrying him bridal style across the threshold.

“Oh, haha. Hilarious.” Aoi crossed his arms, thumping his heel lightly against his captor’s stomach. “Now put me the fuck down before I tell Junpei about how you ate bugs when you were three. I’ll fuckin’ do it. I swear I will.”

The figure paused, their quick intake of air audible even behind the mask. “You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t!” Aoi chimed with a false, hysterical sort of cheer—the kind that can only come from one sleep deprived to the point of hysterics, and in desperate need of a quadruple espresso shot. “I wouldn’t, if you let me sleep more than an hour before my shift instead of stealing me from my bedroom at dawn like a goddamn princess in a tower!”

“...Oh. Sorry.” The figure shifted back and forth uncertainly. The room blurred before Aoi’s eyes as he whipped back and forth, and he groaned, feeling the beginnings of a migraine pricking at his scalp. “I’ll just, um. Down you go?”

Aoi yelped as he landed unceremoniously on the couch, head-first into the sturdy armrest. The shock seemed to knock the air from his lungs, and the headache that was once no more than a dull discomfort now rocketed swiftly into the realm of outright pain.

“You know, you coulda just set me down on the floor,” he protested. The overhead light of the living room was brutal, beating down tenfold in the sleepy calm of morning. He closed his eyes, letting an arm plop against his brow in a makeshift shield against the barrage of brightness. “Fuck, it’s too early for this. The sun isn’t even up and you’re already… The hell kind of prank is…” In the interim, the figure had removed their mask, shaking their dark, crew cut hair from its band. If this was his sister, it was a hell of a growth spurt. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, shit. You’re... not Akane.”

Long forgotten instincts bubbled to the surface. Instincts born from taking shelter on the streets, sizing up every man and woman and child who dared to approach the shivering bundle of a girl at his side. Aoi’s fists opened and closed as he glowered at the intruder. His heart pounded in his chest, spurred by the deep seated protectiveness of an older brother with everything to lose. He resisted the urge to glance towards Akane’s bedroom; resisted it, in case the intruder noticed, and used it against him. Instead, he called to her in the way only he could.

For a tense moment that felt more like three eternities, there was nothing. He prodded again. And again. A feral sort of rage blurred the edges of his vision. If she was harmed… if he touched even a single fucking hair on her head, he would—

“Hm…? Aoi…?”

A B-list horror film blared from the speakers of a small TV, illuminating the living room in a warm glow. Despite the shrill screams of the lead actress, there was a coziness to the rundown apartment that couldn’t be ignored.

A small houseplant stood proudly atop a bookshelf, adored with so many festive baubles its branches began to droop. Someone had visibly attempted to rig it up with string. While successful, it did little for the sake of aesthetics. Still, the small effort from Akane’s fiancé didn’t go unappreciated—nor was it spared from her amusement.

The girl yawned, burrowing her face into a small throw pillow. Her feet were cold, having drifted outside the warm embrace of her blanket. Lazily, she pressed them against Junpei’s thigh. He jolted awake with a strangled yelp. Akane might have found it funny if she weren’t half asleep.

Akane! Aoi cried into the fields. He latched onto her consciousness, ignoring how she pulled weakly away. Thank fucking god. Look, stay calm, but—

“‘M fine. Still at Junpei’s.” It wasn’t often she forgot she didn’t have to respond out loud. Then again, Aoi generally wasn’t typically picking her brain at this hour. “‘S early… Go back to… sleep…”

Hell no I’m not going to sleep! Akane’s thoughts lulled to a dull murmur, slipping through Aoi’s fingers like sand in an hourglass. He reached forcefully through the fields, grasping her consciousness and yanking it back into coherence. And neither are you! There’s someone in—

“Oh... That timeline…? I left it… mm on my bedside table… G’night…”

The fuck does that even mean?!

Radio silence.

Akane????

The morphogenetic equivalent of airplane mode. Aoi cursed, cutting what little remained of their connection. He needed his entire mind in the present. There was no telling what sort of danger he was in. At least his baby sister was out of harm’s way, even if it meant staying the night with Junpei. He’d be having a strong word with him later. But for now, he had bigger problems.

“You’re right. I’m not Akane,” the man confirmed. Aoi recoiled as the intruder extended a hand from underneath his sleeve, though he was relieved to find that nothing was hidden in his open palm. “Dr. Sigma Klim at your service. I would offer to shake your hand, though, uh. Judging by the large switchblade you’ve just procured from your left sock, something tells me you aren’t really in the mood for pleasantries.”

So this was Sigma, huh? Aoi held the blade at the ready, feet parted in a defense stance as he rose from the couch. The man certainly fit the description Akane provided. Tall. Muscular. A sharp, brooding fierceness to his features that didn’t quite match the softness in his eyes. He’d seen him in person only once before, on Christmas Eve—and even then, only briefly. Akane had insisted on proceeding alone. Besides, someone had to bite the bullet and keep his batshit crazy girlfriend at bay. Lady hadn’t taken too kindly to the forged breakup texts. Aoi still had the bite marks to prove it.

“You’re damn right I’m not gonna shake your hand,” Aoi snapped. Didn’t matter who this person was—only why he was there. “You’d better have a good fuckin’ explanation for breaking into my apartment. You’re lucky I don’t call the cops to haul your ass to jail.”

“I… wouldn’t advise that.” Sigma appeared sheepish, perhaps even apologetic as he ran a hand through his hair, displacing bits of melted snow that still lingered there. On closer inspection, the man wasn’t adorned with a set of cultist black robes after all, but instead a long, winter trench coat. “Alice mentioned that your outstanding warrants are still being processed. If you contact the police, there’s a greater than zero chance you would be arrested. Possibly Akane, as well.”

Well, shit. There went his bluff.

“Fine,” Aoi sighed, rubbing wearily at his forehead. “Fine. Okay. Sure. No cops.” How many homes had Aoi himself broken into again? He was beginning to lose count. Perturbed though he was, it would be hypocritical to kick the man to the curb without at least finding out what he wanted.

Not that he had another choice, really.

Aoi flopped back onto the couch, throwing his arms over the back and taking a deep, steadying breath. The haze of sleep was beginning to lift, leaving behind something in its wake resembling coherence. Maybe this person was a stranger (and one who picked his sixth story window lock nonetheless!), but if Akane thought he was harmless, then, well… how bad could he be, really?

The intruder waited patiently by the sofa. He hadn’t moved an inch since Aoi’s outbursts, looking for all the world like a Grecian statue frozen in time, save for the subtle trail of his gaze over the picture frames on the walls. He seemed to linger at one point in particular—a region dangerously close to Aoi’s grade school photos. The man’s lips twitched into a half smile.

Aoi flushed, flying swiftly to his feet. “You thirsty? Because I’m fuckin’ parched.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He trudged swiftly into the kitchen, plucking the kettle from its overhead perch above the fridge and plopping it on the stove. He cranked the burner, realizing perhaps a bit too late that he had forgotten to fill the pot with water. The large, floral kettle hissed and steamed as he ran it underneath the faucet. It was already half boiling by the time he eased it back onto the stovetop. He threw two tea bags into the water, watching as it faded to a pleasant caramel color.

“You want sugar?” Aoi called into the other room. The kitchen was beginning to fill with a familiar herbal aroma, melting his remaining doubts. “Got creamer too, but I wouldn’t risk it if I were you. Akane bought it ages ago and refuses to throw it out. Probably looks like a first grade science project by now.”

There was a pause, broken only by the rapid bubbling of the kettle. Aoi wondered for a moment if his “guest” (if he could call him that) had escaped back through the window. “...Sugar is fine. Thank you.”

Aoi nodded, not particularly caring that the other man couldn’t see the gesture from the living room. He dished the liquid into two hefty mugs before scooping a large spoonful of sugar into each. They steamed invitingly from the tray as he carried them back into the other room, lowering them onto the side table before falling back onto the sofa.

“This… isn’t poison, is it?” Sigma gingerly lifted the leftmost mug—the one that was painfully hot pink, bedazzled, and engraved inexplicably with #1 Abuela. It had been a gag gift from Light. Something meant to poke fun at Aoi’s “mother-henning,” as he called it. Still, it was no skin off his back. If caring deeply about his friends meant he was a mother hen, then cluck cluck, motherfucker.

“Nah,” Aoi replied with a yawn. He took the other mug, nursing its warmth in his palm. The hot liquid burnt his tongue, but not enough to dissuade him from the siren song that was caffeine. “Number one rule of assassination, and all that. If I wanted to kill you, it wouldn’t be in my own fuckin’ apartment.”

The other man froze. “That’s… not very reassuring. Is that supposed to be reassuring? Because I’m feeling very unassured right now.”

“If you don’t want it, don’t drink it. I’m the one that wanted tea.” Aoi closed his eyes against the barrage of the overhead light, sipping lightly at his drink. Already, the throb at his skull had begun to lessen. Something about the blend was like a panacea, he thought; like a universal chicken soup to a cold. “You really care about my feelings that much, then just dump it in the sink when I’m not lookin’. I really couldn’t care less.”

“Wait,” Sigma said, gaze flicking to his glittery mug. “Did you say tea? Not coffee?”

“Uh… yeah?” The other man’s brow wrinkled, and Aoi was struck with a sudden realization. He flew to his feet, snatching the mug from his hands. “Shit, you’re allergic to somethin’ in it, aren’t you? Shit. Hold on, I can—“

“No. No, this is fine. Great, actually. Thank you.” Sigma tugged his drink back from Aoi’s grasp. He shrugged, something resembling a smile dancing in his eyes. “I just, wouldn’t have pegged you for a tea kind of guy. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” The beginnings of irritation began to prick at Aoi’s mind. That was before, of course, he noticed the bright and most decidedly pastel pink cloth peeking from the bottom of the other man’s coat. “Well I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who wears fluffy cat PJs.”

Sigma paused, the mug halfway to his lips. A mischievous grin swallowed his features like a tiny comet to a black hole as he shed his large coat, revealing a matching top that read, to Aoi’s immediate regret, The Cat’s Pajamas. “You kitten me?” Sigma enthused. “They suit me purrfectly. Fur real, I’m feline pretty con-fur-dent in my ap-purr-ence. Could even rock them on the catwalk. I think I’d get a round of ap-paw-se.”

So much for the improving headache. “Remind me to never get you and Junpei in the same room,” Aoi mumbled. He took a large swig of his tea; one which was, to his detriment, nearly the entire mug. He suppressed a cough as the near-boiling drink trickled down his throat. “Think you’re even worse than him, if that’s possible.”

“I will take that as a com-plurr-ment!” Aoi didn’t think the other man’s grin could get any larger. There simply wasn��t enough room on his face, and that was saying something, given that he was at least twice Aoi’s size.

He would never admit that he almost laughed. Not in a million years. “Okay, now that one sucked and you know it.”

Sigma held up a hand, closing his eyes with whatever semblance of stoicism he could manage. “I plead the fifth.”

The conversation dissolved into a companionable silence. Aoi hummed appreciatively as the caffeine worked its magic. He certainly wouldn’t be getting back to sleep that night, but it wasn’t as if he had much time left to begin with. His workload had increased substantially ever since the disastrous DCOM experiment. Twelve hours shifts were far more common than they had been even before the second nonary game. There may or may not be A Terrorist™ who wants to nuke the shit out of the planet wasn’t exactly much to go on, research-wise.

For a moment, Aoi couldn’t help but think that the early start to his day wasn’t so bad after all. He normally had fifteen minutes, tops, to get dressed and out the door; and that was if he wanted to make it to work at 6:30 sharp. Tea was practically out of the question even on a good day. His morning energy boost usually came from a run-down keurig in the break room. It was effective, sure, but equally disappointing. Like downing liquid cardboard in a cup.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly registered when his guest hurtled to his feet, sending a rather impressive cascade of pillows tumbling to the floor.

“Where... did you get this...?!” Sigma choked. The beverage threatened to fall from his grasp, and Aoi dove across the couch, catching it just before it slipped from his fingers. He set it swiftly on the coffee table before turning his attention back to his guest, who now clutched lightly at his chest, eyes distant and unnervingly blank.

“Shit, I thought you weren’t allergic!” Aoi cried. Sigma’s face had begun to redden, and his shoulders trembled uncontrollably. “Why the hell did you—“ Aoi paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. Getting angry wouldn’t do any good here. Briefly, he recalled the time Akane had accepted a granola bar from Junpei in elementary school, believing that the peanuts were actually cashews. Such things weren’t always black and white. “How allergic are we talkin’ here? A benadryl and some water, or an epi-pen and a hospital bed?”

Sigma didn’t respond immediately. His mouth opened and closed, though if he was trying to say something, he didn’t make a sound. When he finally spoke, his voice was weak, and raspy. You could hardly even call it a whisper. “This… this is…”

Aoi sighed, thoughts racing a mile a minute. The guy sounded pretty awful. Hospital it was, then. “Hang on. Just hang on, okay?” He stood, pacing idly across the floor. The police are a no go. What about an ambulance? Medical immunity? Is that still a thing? Even if it wasn’t, he didn’t see much of a choice here. Alice would just have to bail him out later, consequences be damned. “My cell phone is in the other room. I’ll be back. I’ll—“

“No. No, you don’t understand.” The sudden strength to Sigma’s voice made Aoi pause in his tracks. He turned, halfway to his bedroom, to find the man on his feet, clutching the mug desperately to his chest. “This is Luna’s tea.”

“That a brand or somethin’?” Aoi frowned when the man didn’t reply. “If it is, you’re wrong. Akane makes it herself. Dunno what she puts in the stuff, but if you need me to ask, I’ll call her right now.” She may have shut him out telepathically, but he knew for a fact her cell phone still had the ringer on. Junpei was just as insistent about that as Aoi himself. He might not have been particularly fond of the guy, but hey, he had to give credit where it was due.

At this, it was as if the metaphorical floodgates had been opened. Aoi had no idea what he’d said that was so funny, but at his prior remark, the man’s deep sadness seemed to crack like a flimsy eggshell against a metal bowl. Sigma laughed. He laughed until he cried. He laughed until he doubled over, clutching desperately at his stomach. “Akane. Ah, Akane! Of course it was her!” He gasped for air, clapping hysterically at his thigh. “That little minx! She knew all along, didn’t she?”

Aoi thought for a moment that he should be offended on his sister’s behalf, but there was no malice in Sigma’s expression. In fact, there was nothing short of mirth. He was practically glowing with affection as he cupped the blindingly pink mug between his large hands. It radiated from his face like concentrated sunbeams. Aoi clicked his tongue, trying his best to muster up something resembling irritation, but swiftly failed. Sigma’s exuberant joy was almost contagious.

“No clue what you’re going on about,” he began, “but if it’s somethin’ about Akane knowing things she shouldn’t, then you’re probably right.”

“I don’t think shouldn’t is the right word.” Sigma wiped a few tears from his eyes. His raucous laughter had at last dissolved into a fond, unwavering giddiness. “How much did she tell you about our work on Rhizome-9?”

“I know the basics. Not much else.” Aoi was going to leave it at that; however, the expectant silence was unnerving even for him. Sigma waited patiently for him to continue, and Aoi sighed, pondering how much was safe to reveal. New hire or not, Sigma Klim was far from a Crash Keys executive. “Akane and I might work together, but most of our intel comes on a need to know basis. Considerin’ there’s not a universe where I don’t kick the bucket when the plague hits. Well. I didn’t need to know much.”

“…Right.” The look Sigma gave him, all softness and pity and paternal warmth, made Aoi instantly regret the revelation. “Once, in another timeline, Akane and I devoted our whole lives to a project. The AB project, we called it. It was—“

“Yeah, yeah.” Aoi waved a hand dismissively. “Savin’ the world. Time travel. Consciousness swaps. I know that much.”

“I see. I’ll spare you the technical drivel, then.” While the smile never fell from Sigma’s face, there was now a note of melancholy—or was it wistfulness? “The moon… is an unforgiving place. Not like earth. Even our planet scorched by nuclear detonation was still less foreboding than space.” He paused, taking a cautious sip from the mug. It was still near-boiling, though if he was phased by the temperature, he didn’t show it. “Humans weren’t meant to live on the moon. Our muscles… our circulatory systems, they… they don’t always adapt. My Diana’s fragile heart just couldn’t take it. She wilted away, right before my eyes, like a flower under the scorching sun, and I was helpless to do a thing about it.”

Sigma cupped his mug between his palms. It rocked back and forth slightly in his grasp, almost like a sleeping infant in its mother’s arms. “I… recreated her. As an AI. A GOL-M, I called them. I’m not ashamed to admit it. The thought of living without her was too much to bear. It still is.

“The day that she was reborn as an AI was, I thought, the happiest I’d been in years. But I quickly realized that the woman before me was not Diana. She was less… forceful. Less dynamic. Whereas Diana had a weak heart physically, Luna’s was made of titanium. And yet… even compared to Diana, it was so incredibly, indescribably breakable. Even the slightest of aggressions was enough to send her reeling; withdrawing into herself, sometimes for weeks at a time. She simply wasn’t built for it. The isolation of the moon was too much, and she was slowly going insane, lost endlessly inside her thoughts, with no companion aside from a foolish old man with a pipe dream.

“But then, one day… it happened.”

There was a gentle tug against Aoi’s mind. This was not the force of one trying to pry their way inside, nor the urgent chime of a messenger. It was instead the innocent pull of a powerful transmitter lost in his own thoughts. Akane herself was prone to a similar sort of magnetism.

Curious, Aoi allowed it to overtake his mind with its gentle, nostalgic allure. It was second nature to him; like breathing. As a powerful receiver himself, he knew he could fight off the presence easily, if it ever became undesirable. The small living room of his apartment blurred before his eyes, transforming into a cold, unfamiliar sight which was nonetheless laced with the rosy hues of nostalgia.

—————————————

Fatherhood was like second nature to Sigma. Being something of an “overgrown child” himself, as Akane had once put it, he had always fancied himself good with kids. Back in his university days, it wasn’t uncommon for a professor or two to ask him to babysit. Of course, the money was the main incentive, but there were times when he actually enjoyed watching the little tikes. Even so, he hadn’t seen many kids since he left Earth so long ago. And Kyle was… Kyle.

Sigma glanced down at the small helmet in his hand. A frayed wire hissed lightly as he clipped it, exchanging it for a sturdier variety. Technically, the boy’s suit didn’t need an electronic air purifying system in his annual size upgrade, but any small luxury he could provide the boy in secret was more than worth it.

It wasn’t as if Sigma didn’t want to spend time with his son (if you could even call him that, at this point). The young boy had a predetermined destiny, just as his father had one to prepare him for said destiny. It just so happened that Kyle’s fate couldn’t happen, should he be raised under... warmer circumstances. A Kyle who spent time apprenticing in his father’s workshop simply wouldn’t have the heart to betray. Unlike his older twin, of course, who needed no such prompting.

Sigma sighed as he closed the helmet’s latch, securing it with the key on the back side. Certainly, he wished there was more he could do for Kyle, but for now the subtle improvements to his suit would have to do.

…Though he supposed the suit wasn’t the only thing he had gifted him.

At the corner of his workshop, the GOL-M known simply as Luna stood unmoving. It was her default mode. Standby. Ready and waiting for orders, should they come.

So very unlike Diana.

Sigma shook his head, willing the stray thought to dissipate. Generally speaking, Luna’s standard state would be to attend to Kyle, though the boy had requested that she be removed entirely from his presence. Without a purpose, she had taken to idling by Sigma as he worked. If he hadn’t known better, he would almost say that she looked sad.

But that was impossible, wasn’t it? 1s and 0s do not emotion make.

“Sooooo,” Sigma began. The sterile silence was near unnerving, and he could bear it no longer. “The helmet is finished. What do you think, Luna? Isn’t it sublime?”

“Your work is wonderful as always, Dr. Klim.” Her reply was instant. She hardly left room for a single breath. The girl’s gaze never strayed from his own as she beamed, all teeth and no eyes.

Sigma sighed. The helmet fell back onto his workspace with a metallic thunk. His own reflection glared back at him, as cantankerous and disapproving as ever. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“Would you like for me to look at it, Dr. Klim?” It was a question, and yet it wasn’t. This was not the soft, gentle curiosity of a human—of Diana—but instead the unnerving drive for orders from a machine. The sugary sweetness of her voice changed nothing about her true internal state.

“No, no. There’s no need. You’re right. I am too great for my own good.” Sigma draped a hand over his forehead, heaving a dramatic sigh. It would be enough to earn at least a cold look from Akane, he thought, if not worse.

“Yes. Very great, Dr. Klim.” Luna’s eyes shimmered with uncontained admiration. Admiration which was, in Sigma’s opinion, unmerited—at least, by disqualification of arrogance alone.

Sigma deflated, every ounce of bravado sapped instantly from his muscles.“You aren’t supposed to agree!”

He said that, and yet he knew it wasn’t true. Hadn’t he designed her with the laws of robotics in mind? How could he ever expect her to be like her if she was forced to tend to his every whim?

She wouldn’t have put up with his arrogance. She would have scoffed, saying that the only thing he was great at was fraying her every last nerve. She would have smiled, though. She always smiled.

“I… I’m very sorry. I’ve upset you again, haven’t I?” The girl’s hand hovered over his shoulder. She was so close, he could feel the artificial warmth from her palm. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. I only wanted—“

“No, you didn’t!” Sigma cried. A subtle, unplaced fury that had been burning in his chest, smoldering since her creation, threatened to combust. “Surely you don’t want to stand there all day like a bump on a log. What do you want, Luna? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

Her reply was disappointing, but not unexpected. “I only want to serve you and your family, Dr. Klim. That is my purpose. That’s… why I was born, wasn’t it?” Her eyes flicked uncertainly to the small helmet on the table. Instantly, her gaze seemed to soften, and for a moment, Sigma felt a subtle pang to his own heart.

“Fine, then,” he relented. An idea was beginning to form. It was crazy, perhaps, and would go nowhere… But if it did... “What if I said you could ‘serve’ me by serving yourself?”

A pause. Just a heartbeat; but more than the girl had ever allowed before. “I’m sorry, but… I don’t think I understand. Could you possibly... rephrase the command...?”

“I can.” Sigma leaned against his work bench, drumming his fingers idly on the wooden surface. He knew precisely what he wanted to say—but how to say it? “Luna. No—Luna Klim. I created you to be the doppleganger to the woman who once held my entire heart in her hands. She was a nurse. A caregiver. Smart as a whip. The motherly sort of person who is born to care for others. You are much like her in this regard. Still, I’ve come to realize that you are not Diana. You. Are. Luna.”

The GOL-M tilted her head, cupping her hands before her chin. It was a reaction he had programmed himself; an easy quirk to detect when the AI was taking a bit longer to process. “Yes,” she confirmed. “I’m Luna. Would you like me to be Diana instead?”

“No!” Sigma groaned. (Yes, GOD yes, his subconscious chimed, though he shooed away the errant thought. He had long abandoned that idea, even if a small, guilt-ridden part of him still longed for it.) “Absolutely not! I want you to be Luna, whatever that means. I... want you to find your bluebird.” His hand was reaching in his pocket before he could stop himself. The gilded cage on a chain; the one he’d kept on his person since the day she passed. Just five minutes ago, someone would have had to pry the necklace from his cold, dead hands. Now, though, he parted with it so easily, and he wasn’t even sure why. He cupped her pale, slender hands with one of his own, pressing it firmly into her palm. “Take this, and find out who Luna is. Find what makes you happy, and report back to me immediately when you do.”

As she gazed down at the small ornament, her soft, cerulean eyes were wide with… something. It was certainly a mimic of some emotion. Generally, it was much clearer to the trained eye. Robot “feelings” were not complicated. It was like flipping a switch between settings, not wavering uncertainly between them. “Happy,” she whispered. Her fingers curled around the small charm, her thumb stroking the edges of the bars. “It’s not something I know much about, but... I think maybe you make me happy, Dr. Klim.”

The scientist nearly lost his footing, jamming his elbow into his workbench. He rubbed at the injury good-naturedly, chuckling as the girl produced a small bandage from her skirt pocket. “I didn’t mean it like that!” Sigma chortled. Perhaps Luna’s personality was reminiscent of Diana, though he certainly hadn’t programmed her memories or feelings. Then again, she did have a neural network of her own, didn’t she? He couldn’t help the warm flush that rose to his cheeks. But flattered though he was… “I want you to find a hobby, Luna. Something to do in your spare time, when you aren’t tending to my every need. I, for instance, like to crochet!” He whipped open a drawer at his workstation, tugging a small bundle of red fabric free. There was a border of little snowflakes at the edges. At the center was a lacy box embedded with the words Somebunny Loves Me. “I made a festive sweater for Lagomorph just last month, you see? He can’t wear it physically, but I made it nonetheless, just because the idea made me smile.”

Luna seemed to ponder this. Her head did not tilt. Instead, she met his gaze—unflinching, unwavering, and with the fierce sort of determination he would expect from his own flesh and blood. “I think I finally understand. Yes! I’ll find something that makes me happy, too! I promise, I won’t let you down!”

As she clasped the small bluebird around her neck, the smile reached her eyes.

—————————————

The emergency alert system of Rhizome-9 was not easy on the ears even on a good day. At 0408 lunar time, it was particularly dreadful.

“Wakey wakey, Siggy-o!” Lagomorph cried via the speaker embedded underneath the bed. Sigma stirred, plucked from the clutches of some vague dream, though he was far from outright consciousness. “Oi! I said rise ‘n shine, ya old featherduster! Maaaaybe you just need a little encouragement!”

This was followed by the AI’s vocal rendition of what appeared to be a freestyle dubstep remix of Morning Mood by Edvard Grieg. He’d also acquired a virtual recorder—inexplicably off-key, of course. Sigma groaned at the sudden assault to his ears. He was in a morning mood alright, but it sure wasn’t a pleasant one.

Still, it wasn’t as if he could ignore the call to arms forever. It was simply one of the hardships that came with living on a lunar base. Mechanical flaws wouldn’t wait until morning, after all, and came with risks far greater than simple inconvenience.

Sigma opened his eyes to a rather familiar sight, even in the darkness. The GOL-M’s eyes shone unnaturally from the foot of his bed. An eerie vision to some, perhaps; though to Sigma, her presence was a welcome development. It wasn’t unusual for Luna to provide a detailed report during the night, and she was far easier to hold a conversation with than her rabbit counterpart.

Sigma yawned, reaching blindly for the lamp. Immediately, the girl scurried to his side, pulling easily on the drawstring. The room burst to life in a flurry of artificial fluorescence.

“Good morning, Dr. Klim!” Luna chimed. Her long, lacy nightgown swished around her ankles, and there was a light smear of dirt on her freckled cheek. Her red hair hung in twin braids tied with cerulean ribbon, though the leftmost had begun to come loose. “Did you sleep well?”

“Other than being woken in the middle of the night?” he remarked. The girl seemed to droop visibly at the comment, and he cleared his throat. She may not have had real emotion, but she was certainly convincing, at times. “Still, duty calls, doesn’t it? What seems to be the problem? Not the life support again, I hope?”

The AI shook her head. Her braids whipped back and forth, smacking lightly at her back. “No. Not the life support.”

“The cryogenic pods, then?” If it was, that could be a disaster and a half. The occupants weren’t scheduled to wake for a long while yet. There had been a brief scare three years ago when movement was detected inside Clover’s pod, though it was deemed to be a false alarm. Kyle had merely tripped and jostled it a little, triggering the emergency alarm.

“No, not the pods either.” The girl seemed to stand up a little straighter. Her hands were cupped firmly behind her back as she leaned forward, practically vibrating with anticipation. “I’ve finally found something that made me smile, Dr. Klim.”

Sigma blinked. He’d almost forgotten about their conversation from two months prior, though the girl didn’t flinch. Right—she wasn’t one for pranks, was she? “T-that’s great, Luna. I’m very happy for you.” The GOL-M beamed proudly, and the genuine curve of her lips was almost enough to rouse Sigma from his groggy stupor. Almost, but not quite. “However, truth be told, I’m still very tired. If that’s what all the fuss is about, then could it possibly wait until the morning?”

“No!” Luna blurted. Sigma’s brow furrowed. No certainly wasn’t in her usual vocabulary. “You ordered me to return to you immediately when I found it. I… I have my report!”

Sigma couldn’t help but smile, himself. “So I did.” He rose wearily to a sitting position, patting amicably at the spot beside him. Perhaps he was still half asleep, though she made a good point. He couldn’t very well argue with his own orders, now could he? “Let’s hear it, then. What makes Luna smile?”

Luna did not sit. Instead, she shoved a large, gnarled… thing… so close to Sigma’s face that he had to look cross-eyed to see it properly. He sputtered as a fair amount of dirt made its way into his mouth, sprinkling like snowfall from its edges onto his blanket.

“Well,” he choked, swiping at his mouth. “That is definitely not what I was expecting.” He shoved the offending item to the side. At a distance, it looked vaguely familiar. Something brown, and tuber-like. Definitely one of the specimens from the growing chamber. Ginger, perhaps? “Can I ask why you chose this particular thing?”

An instant reply, as always. “It’s very ugly.”

Sigma frowned. Ugly? It was just a regular ginger plant, wasn’t it? Still, he found his gaze drawn once again to the root. Ginger wasn’t exactly a pretty specimen by any means, so he supposed he could understand what Luna meant. Still, though… the ones he’d harvested in the past weren’t quite so… warty, were they? The edges twisted and writhed, tapering to rigid, furry ends almost like a gnarled set of toes. Sigma recoiled—and then, instantly realized the humor of the situation.

“Ugly, you say? Indeed it is!” he guffawed. It truly was a sight to behold, and not one he would have noticed on his own. “And that made you smile?” The GOL-M nodded fervently. Her fiery, stoic enthusiasm threatened to make him laugh anew. “I think I understand now. It is quite delightful. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Luna.”

She nodded. “Yes! Of course. You’re welcome!” Despite her prior resolve, Luna fiddled with the hem of her dress. It was odd, Sigma thought. Normally she was so… stiff. So unsure of herself, yet unwavering in her purpose. Now, however, these traits were almost mirrored. She was so confident, so passionate, and yet…

“Is that all?” Sigma prompted gently. Instantly, the girl bit her lip, rocking almost imperceptibly on her heels. “I get the impression that perhaps you had something else on your mind.”

“You’re right,” Luna admitted. Some of the rigidity seemed to loosen around her shoulders. She cupped her hands below her chin, the question lingering in her eyes even before she asked it. “You’re always right, Dr. Klim. I was actually… thinking about what I wanted…”

Well, that was a development. Sigma hadn’t directly ordered her to find what she wanted, did he? Perhaps he had mentioned it briefly, though it was only a passing thought and nothing more. Had she been pondering this all those weeks? Was that even possible, given her source code?

“I’d like a garden, Dr. Klim,” the girl declared. “With sunlight. And grass.” Luna lifted the root once again. Though ‘ugly,’ as she put it, there was still a subtle, natural sort of beauty to the way it twisted and turned in the warm glow of the table lamp. “I’ve read that many plants from Earth thrived in natural sunlight. The growing chamber is nothing like the images of earth from my database. If we recreate it, I think… I think maybe… they would grow. Maybe they wouldn’t be so small, and withered, and sad anymore. Maybe they could even be beautiful, with a little care.”

“A garden, you say.” Sigma stroked his chin. He’d considered something similar himself, actually. It was a silly dream that he’d once toyed with but quickly discarded. The growing chamber, unlike a field, was an optimal use of space. It didn’t require grass. Some specimens didn’t even require soil, relying instead on suspended aquaponics. “I’m inclined to say no given space restrictions. However, if you can provide evidence of practicality, then—“

“Oh, but it would make me very happy, Dr. Klim!”

Sigma grinned. Mental health was practical indeed. Akane may give him the cold shoulder for converting the large storage room, but consequences be damned. Luna Klim had found her bluebird, and he wasn’t about to open the cage.

—————————————

“And that was how it started,” Sigma recounted. “With the garden.”

Aoi wasn’t quite sure what to say. His mind still buzzed with a medley of sensations and emotions that weren’t quite his own, however real they felt. “Well,” he mumbled. “Not too hard to guess how that relates to the tea.”

“Perhaps not.” Sigma smiled into his cup. It was almost odd seeing him as a young man now. It wasn’t as if Aoi ever saw his full older appearance in the vision, per se; after all, the entire scene was viewed from Sigma’s own eyes. Still, maintaining the perceptions of others was an (at times) unfortunate side effect of being a natural receiver. He’d even made the mistake of resonating with a flea-bitten dog, once. He was scratching at his forearms for weeks, and was still trying very hard to forget the incident with the mailman.

“After the garden was complete,” Sigma continued, “Luna proceeded to transplant the most pitiful crops we had on the base. Only the ugly ones, by her own definition. She insisted. As it turned out, she had a knack for gardening. Maybe that isn’t surprising given that she had an entire database at her fingertips, and yet it is such a delicate art. One which even humans struggle with.” Sigma smiled, reaching lightly for a pot of lilies on the coffee table. He took a withered petal, long forgotten in the topsoil, between his calloused fingertips. “It takes a real gift. A human gift. Luna had that gift.”

“A human gift, huh?” Aoi watched as Sigma nudged a layer of soil over the flower fragment. “Thought you said she was a robot.”

“I used to think so, too. Now, though, I suppose that depends on your definition of human. If, for example, I were to transplant your consciousness into a GOL-M’s body, would you still consider yourself a human being?”

“Depends on your definition of human,” Aoi echoed. He tapped his fingers against his mug, eyeing the spot where the petal had vanished into the flowerpot. “You want my honest answer, though? I think people put way too much emphasis on bein’ human in the first place. No way we’re alone in the universe. No way in hell. Even if you don’t believe in that sorta thing, though, you don’t even have to look past earth to see humans aren’t the only ones that are sentient. We’ve got tribes of apes wagin’ calculated war against each other. We’ve got birds that crack seeds by droppin’ em in traffic. Hell, even dogs show neurological evidence of love for their owners, not that you need a scan to see it in the first place.

“So, long and short of it? If robot girl was sentient, then she’s sentient. Doesn’t matter what her brain’s made of if it thinks.”

“Yes!” Sigma enthused. “Yes, she did. Still does, somewhere out there. I believe you’re right in saying that Luna isn’t human, but still she has a bigger heart and a more brilliant mind than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Gotta disagree with you there.” Aoi’s gaze trailed along the east wall, which was adorned with various awards and certificates in matching frames. Science award, third grade. Most likely to succeed, high school. His sister was mortified at the new additions, though Aoi always claimed it was his god-given right as her older brother to embarrass her as much as humanly possible. He said that, though in reality he couldn’t help but take pride in his baby sister’s accomplishments. “Sorry, but Akane’s the biggest know-it-all on the planet. No contest.”

Sigma chuckled as he wiped the dirt from his palm. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. Luna does live on the moon, to be technical.”

“You know, I’m really startin’ to get really tired of your technicalities.”

Sigma toyed with the frayed logo on his pajama shirt. “Yes. Most do. Takes a meow-ntain of patience to hold a con-purr-sation with me, or so I’ve been told.”

Aoi was beginning to understand why. Best not to encourage him. “So. You said this robot girl of yours made the same tea as my sister,” he observed. “What’s in it?”

Akane would never tell him. Something cryptic about it not being the right time or place, and blah blah blah. He always thought it was just normal sibling banter, but he really should have known better. Akane didn’t mess around when it came to prophesies.

“Well. There’s tea leaves, of course,” Sigma listed, tapping at his fingers. “Harvested as a green tea, I suspect, by the flavor. There’s certainly ginger, though she also once admitted to cloves and tomato. There are other ingredients that even I don’t know about, I’m sure.”

“Tomato, huh?” Aoi peered into his empty mug, eyeing the last dregs of tea leaves lingering at the bottom. “I don’t hate many foods, but tomato’s one of ‘em. It’s got the texture of a fruit, but the taste of a vegetable.” Even so, he hadn’t lost his taste for the concoction. Something about it was like home, abstract though the sentiment was.

“I’ve never had a taste for ginger myself,” Sigma agreed. He turned over his mug, revealing not even a single drop left in the container. “But here I am, having downed the entire mug like my life depended upon it!”

Aoi nodded appreciatively. Perhaps he was biased, having received his own stash as a cherished gift from his younger sister; and yet even still, even if he had plucked it from some barren department store shelf, he knew that it would still be his favorite blend.

The companionable atmosphere was at once shattered by a shrill, unforgiving tone. Aoi startled, eyes darting towards the offending device on the coffee table which seemed to shake the entire apartment like a small earthquake in the early calm of dawn. Within seconds, Sigma dove for his cell phone, eyes flicking intently over the screen. Aoi couldn’t help but read the offending message over his large shoulders.

Sigma u big dumb, if ur reading this ur screwed lmao.

“Ahh, why did I have to be so cryptic!” Sigma bemoaned. He massaged his palms over his eyes, his large brow drawing into a scowl.

“Cryptic? Really?” Aoi deadpanned. He reached across the sofa, tapping at the snooze button on the touch screen. “Seems pretty to the point, if you ask me.”

Sigma peeked between his fingers. “To the point, yes. But the context? That’s another matter entirely!”

The context? Aoi stared, turning the words over in his mind. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re tellin’ me you set an alarm for four in the fuckin’ morning and can’t even remember why?”

“You could say that,” Sigma sighed. Despite his youthful appearance, he seemed to age at least 20 years with his solemn expression alone. “I consider myself a bit of a prodigy when it comes to memory, but this sort of thing is pushing it. I am getting up there in age, you know.”

All at once, the pieces clicked. Aoi whistled appreciatively. “Right. Forgot you’re a geezer at heart. Your memory startin’ to go?”

“First of all: Ow!” Sigma bristled, clutching melodramatically at his chest. “Second of all, not what I meant! You try remembering something that happened fifty years ago!”

“Right,” Aoi drawled. He crossed his arms, leaning back on the couch. “I’ll get right on that. How could I ever forget my negative 30th birthday party? Was a real banger. Someone spiked the punch.”

Sigma eyed him warily. “You know, I get the feeling you aren’t taking this seriously. It is the reason I came to your apartment, after all. I don’t pay many people a housecall at this hour.”

Aoi frowned. Oh, right. He’d almost forgotten the circumstances behind their meeting. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” he marveled. Sigma shook his head sadly. “You’re tellin’ me you broke into my apartment to help you decipher a random fuckin’ phone alarm from your youth?”

“Well. Not quite,” Sigma admitted. He stared intently at his phone, as if willing it telepathically to reveal its secrets. “There was an alarm prior to this one alerting me of a math exam in the morning. However… to be frank, I can’t even remember which course I’m enrolled in, let alone feel confident enough to take a final exam.” He had begun to pace by the window, where the beginnings of dawn were beginning to whittle away at the darkness. “Unfortunately, I was never one to take notes in class. My mind was like a steel trap. I had no need to have notes, if I could recall any content at a moment’s notice. ‘Any content’ meaning in the near future, of course. Not several decades across time and space. The only clue I’ve found as to my exam’s content was a crumpled sheet of paper in my coat pocket. The one still lying on the couch, in fact. It is in the leftmost pocket, if you’d like to see it.”

Of course Aoi was a little curious, but that didn’t outweigh his other inclinations. “Gonna be real with you here. I think advanced college math is the last thing I wanna do on two hours of sleep.”

Sigma stopped in his tracks. He peered at Aoi with something reminiscent of a kicked puppy. “I guess that’s fair. It’s just, Akane told me that you were quite good with numbers. I tried contacting her first, but she shut me out almost immediately and sent me here instead. I thought that meant you’d agreed, but it seems there was a misunderstanding.”

Aoi should have guessed. He really should have. Still, if someone had to miss out on sleep, he would much rather it be him than his overworked little sister. She had enough on her plate already. “Fine,” he mumbled. “Whatever. Sure. If it keeps you off Akane’s back, I’ll look at your goddamn math homework. But you owe me.”

Sigma perked up, rushing enthusiastically to his side. He shuffled around in his coat for a moment before producing a small, crumpled paper. He smoothed it on the table. Against Aoi’s better judgment, he leaned forward for a better look.

...And promptly laughed in Sigma’s face.

“Ohhh man. You really are screwed, aren’t ya?” he snickered. There were so many equations on the page that they seemed to swim together into an unidentifiable blob. “Not to brag, but math is kinda my thing as a stockbroker. But this?” Even on a more reasonable sleep schedule, Aoi was confident he would be stumped by the cramped jumble of black text. He squinted, convinced for a moment that he must have grown nearsighted spontaneously. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen so much fine print in a single fuckin’ equation. If it is an equation. Last time I checked, there were supposed to be numbers in math. You sure this isn’t from literature class?”

Sigma groaned, his arms stretching rather pathetically across the table. “That’s what I said! But Diana wasn’t interested in discussing the nuances of theoretical mathematics. In fact, she banished me to the couch!”

“Wow. Wonder why.” Aoi plucked the page from underneath Sigma’s hands, flipping it over in hopes of finding an answer key. As with most aspects of his life, it wasn’t quite that simple. It wasn’t necessarily that he couldn’t identify the symbols in the equation. The sigma implied a sum, of course, and taking a natural log of anything is pretty straightforward. Still, it’s quite difficult to plug the derivative of p into an equation if you don’t have even a single idea what the letter represents. “Seriously, though. I dunno what the fuck this is,” he mumbled. “If that was your only reason for wakin’ me up, then you’re better off waiting until… Akane…”

Until Akane wakes up. That’s what he was going to say. But Akane didn’t operate by the usual rules of time, now did she? In fact, she’d already provided him with everything he needed.

He never did find out what she meant by it’s on the nightstand table.

Grinning, Aoi let the offending page flutter to the floor. He walked the small distance to his sister’s room, pushing open the door which was already slightly ajar. Her room was just as she left it: prim, orderly, and not a speck of dust in sight. The walls were the color of sugarplums, and the bed was made so perfectly that it looked like it was plucked from a home improvement magazine. He always wondered how she kept it so clean in there despite being so outlandishly busy. Though Aoi was a bit of a neat freak himself, even his room had a few loose items of clothing strewn about.

It didn’t take long to find the small notepad propped on her bedside table. It was small, and unassuming, with a single post-it note adorning its surface. Her neat, ornate handwriting was unmistakable: For my dearest Sigma. Good luck—you’ll need it!

“Have I mentioned how much I love your sister?” Sigma peered over his shoulder, practically salivating over the small tome. Aoi raised an eyebrow, and the man recoiled, hands raised defensively. “Not like that! I’m engaged now, you know. Happened just two days ago. My lovely fiancé beat me to the punch.”

He said it so proudly that Aoi couldn’t help but wonder what he found so special about the girl. He had met Diana once, a few days ago, at Akane’s request. Something about getting along with the new hires. He hadn’t been introduced to all of them yet, though the leader of D Team was first on the list.

She was pretty enough, Aoi supposed. Flaming red hair. Baby blue eyes. A rather cute splattering of freckles across her nose, and her cheeks dimpled readily when she smiled. Her demeanor was sunny, though she maintained an aura of staunch professionalism which remained steely and unbreakable even under the rigorous interrogations of Crash Keys. He wouldn’t necessarily call her a knock-out, nor a stand-out personality by any means. Still, he supposed he didn’t dislike her. Already, her work ethic left little to be desired.

“Don’t worry. We don’t plan to marry until the terrorist is apprehended,” Sigma reassured. Aoi wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend himself; he had never seen marriage as much of an issue, all things considered. In fact, he thought it might be better to expedite such plans, given the current transient state of the world. Akane, however, would argue the contrary. She herself had postponed her wedding to Junpei until the unforeseeable future. Our duty to humanity comes first, she argued. Our duty to ourselves can come later.

“We won’t, um, plan for anything else, either,” Sigma added. “So, you don’t have to worry about that. The last thing we want is to bring even more children into a world that could explode at any second. Even the two we already—or, wait, or maybe four would be more accurate. Five…? Seven…?!”

Sigma threw a desperate, confused glance Aoi’s way, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Don’t look at me. Even just thinkin’ about your family tree gives me a headache.” Aoi thought his family’s history was complicated. It paled in comparison to D Team. Everyone’s did.

“Ah, well, I guess that makes two of us,” Sigma chuckled. He reached for the journal in Aoi’s hand, placing his hand lightly on the cover. “May I?”

Though he couldn’t help but be curious about its contents, Aoi relinquished the book to its rightful owner. Sigma opened the small tome, thumbing swiftly through its pages. Aoi caught a glance of one of them. It wasn’t pretty—not that he expected Akane’s insane propensity for mathematics to be anything less than entirely incomprehensible.

“Dunno what any of those symbols mean,” Aoi observed, “but as long as you do, guess that’s all that matters.”

“Oh, I don’t either!” Sigma enthused. He at last reached the last page, closing the book with a flourish. “But I don’t need to understand them to have a fighting chance, now do I?”

“What kinda classes are you takin’ where you don’t have to understand the equations?”

“If only I knew!” Sigma tucked the book underneath his broad shoulder, patting it affectionately with his free hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to go home and take a power nap before my apparently very important exam.” He plucked his cell phone from his pocket, paling instantly as the screen flashed to life. “A very, very brief one.”

The man rushed back to the living room, hurriedly gathering his trenchcoat from the sofa. He cursed as his journal toppled from his arms in his haste. It floundered to the floor, bouncing off the rim of the discarded gas mask before rolling a small distance away. Sigma plucked both items from the carpet, securing the straps of the mask easily around his ears before tugging it up and around his face.

“Wait,” Aoi said, a key realization finally dawning. “Why were you wearin’ Akane’s mask in the first place? She lend it to you or somethin’?” She wouldn’t have, was the thing. It was far from a treasured possession, though it was a very important relic of their past. And if she didn’t lend it, then…

“I… might have borrowed it. Briefly. Without asking.” Aoi was reminded suddenly of an old cartoon character whistling innocently as they tried to feign innocence. He crossed his arms, and Sigma toyed nervously with the cuff of his sleeve. “Truth be told, I was planning to return it at work tomorrow. And it’s not as if she wouldn’t know it was gone. This is Akane we’re talking about.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Aoi conceded. If his sister didn’t want the item to be taken, Sigma likely would have been met with a scenario straight out of Home Alone. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, though. Thought you were just here for your stupid math homework, not to rob me blind.”

Aoi paused, briefly regretting his choice of idioms as he waited for the snarky retort. He was spending too much time with Light, lately. He could already see Akane’s smug expression; the suggestive waggle of her eyebrows when no one else was looking. For the first time that evening, Aoi was suddenly glad she couldn’t hear his thoughts.

“It’s not like I wanted to, uh… borrow it,” Sigma rushed to explain. “It’s just, the doorman, you know?” He nodded to himself, as if solidifying his own logic. If you could call it logic.

“That supposed to be English?” Aoi deadpanned. “Thought I was fluent. Guess I need to go back to the fuckin’ first grade.”

“Ah, sorry, sorry,” Sigma amended sheepishly. He rubbed at the back of his head, tugging up his coat where it had dropped below his neckline. “I get ahead of myself, sometimes. I suppose I forgot to mention I SHIFTed here this evening. You see, there was a rather unfortunate encounter with the apartment building’s security. I didn’t realize that doormen were generally, ah. Armed. Heavily. With machine guns. And also nunchucks. Dual wielding, really. Quite an unfortunate combination.”

Aoi couldn’t help but laugh. “Pfft. Yeah, most places don’t have that,” he acknowledged. “But the building where most of the Crash Keys higher ups live? Yeah, we’re gonna have good fuckin’ security. Good to know it’s worth shelling out the extra cash, at least.”

“Iiiiiis it though?” Sigma’s teasing lilt was somehow even more irritating through the layer of voice morphing software. “I did make it through your bedroom window, after all. You can’t exactly have a security guard stuck to the side of a building.”

“Try me,” Aoi countered. Money could buy just about anything, after all. If he could purchase a life-size replica of a replica of the Titanic, then a hoard of levitating security guards with nunchucks wasn’t entirely out of the question. “Still don’t get why you’re wearin’ Akane’s gas mask, though.”

“Ah, that’s easy enough.” Sigma gestured vaguely towards Aoi’s room, where the curtains still fluttered in the icy breeze. “Theoretically, I could leave through the window, though it takes a good deal of time to grapple seven stories. Time isn’t exactly something I have right now. And so… if I want to leave the more traditional way, I have to do something about the guards, now don’t I? Something that preferably doesn’t involve hand to hand combat with weapons of mass destruction.”

Aoi gaped, clutching incredulously at his arms. “You sedated my fuckin’ doorman?!”

“Technically, it’s future tense,” Sigma corrected, “though you’ve got the gist. The Soporil grenades should be detonating riiiiight aboooout…” A shrill alarm tone blared from Sigma’s pocket. He silenced it deftly before replacing it back into the confines of his trench coat and making his way towards the front door. “Well, that’s my cue! Thank you for all of your help this evening, and for your hospitality. It’s much appreciated.”

“Are you insane?” Aoi hissed. He grasped Sigma’s shoulder, tugging him back into the living room. “Why didn’t you just ask me to call off the guards?!”

The mask slipped briefly from the man’s face, revealing a shit-eating grin that could rival even Light’s. “Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Sigma proclaimed, tapping knowingly at his temple. “If there’s one thing my time on the moon taught me, it’s that one should never abandon an opportunity that brings them joy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a bluebird to chase!”

“Wait, hold on, shit, you can’t just—“ SLAM. The front door closed in his face, leaving Aoi standing confused and alone in the doorway. “What the actual fuck just happened,” he whispered to no one in particular.

I’m not really sure either, Akane whispered sleepily into his mind. But you’ll get used to it. Sigma just has his own way of doing things.

“Oh yeah?” Aoi muttered. He eyed the couch, which looked far too inviting now that his caffeine rush was beginning to wane. “Well my way of doing things involves getting more than two goddamn hours of sleep. Whaddya say we both go in an hour late today? There are perks to bein’ CEOs, you know.”

Akane’s arm paused mid-way through brushing her hair. Her eyes appeared gaunt and sunken in the bathroom mirror, and there were dark bags beginning to form at the tops of her cheeks. Briefly, her gaze darted into the other room, where Junpei lay disheveled and half asleep against his dresser. One hand fiddled with his tie, but really, it seemed to do more harm than good in the end. It fluttered to the floor in a pathetic heap.

I’d say that’s a terrible idea, Akane chastised. But still aaaawfully tempting…

Good enough for me. Aoi yawned, falling back onto the couch and adjusting the pillows underneath his head. There was a throw blanket at the other armrest, though he was far too tired to reach for it.

Meanwhile, Junpei had long abandoned the impossible endeavor that was his tie. Instead, he reached for another piece of cloth—one which was arranged in a neat bow, and could be easily clipped to the top of his suit. The brunette beamed proudly, flashing himself a pair of finger guns in his full length mirror.

“My brother thinks you look like a giant dork,” Akane translated. Junpei whipped around instantly, cheeks deepening rapidly to a rosy pink.

“Well!” he cried indignantly. “You can tell Santa to stop using his freaky mind powers just to critique my fashion sense! Which is awesome and extremely cool, I’ll have you know!”

In your dreams, Aoi thought, though was later surprised to find the answer in his own. In his brief slumber, he saw a vision of a white-haired grandfather in a blue button up, beaming proudly as he flipped a pancake on the stove. His wife smeared a streak of batter across his nose when he wasn’t looking, and he lifted her joyfully into the air, a diamond ring gleaming proudly from her right hand.

-------------------------------

“More coffee?”

The morning boardroom crowd had thinned considerably, leaving only Aoi and his sister to loiter behind. At least, he thought it was just the two of them. It was hard to tell from his current position, as his head was thoroughly burrowed into the table like a nervous ostrich into the sand. His temples throbbed unbearably with the return of his migraine.

“Thanks, but I think I’ve had enough already to stop my heart,” he muttered. Even the effort born from moving his lips was too much. It was like his neurons were wading through quicksand.

“Hey! No dying until we catch the terrorist!” Akane teased. There was a brief sound of liquid pouring, followed by the muted squeak of styrofoam against marble.

“What, the one the one that doesn’t fuckin’ exist?” Aoi grumbled. “That mean I’m immortal now?”

Aoi could hear the smile in her voice. “Hmmm. Only if you drink up. Otherwise, I think you might die of exhaustion before the day’s over.”

With a tremendous effort born from one who only slept three hours that day, Aoi managed to peel his face from the wooden table. There was a small puddle of drool lingering there from where he’d conked out in at least two out of three of their morning meetings. Nobody dared to wake him—except for Phi, perhaps, who more than likely didn’t care enough to do something about it. She’d only been employed with Crash Keys for two days and already Aoi could tell they would get along just fine. It wasn’t often someone had the guts to badmouth the CEO, and during their first day orientation, no less.

“Wonder whose fault that is,” Aoi grumbled. Against his better judgment, he reached for what was perhaps his sixth cup that morning (Or was it the seventh? He was so tired he was having trouble counting past three.). He overshot, and the small cup was sent sprawling across the table, covering it liberally in the dark beverage. A few drops even splattered onto the walls. They dribbled rather pathetically to the floor, easily caught in the textured wallpaper. Aoi couldn’t help but empathize. He stared sadly into the near empty cup. At least he’d managed to salvage a few sips.

“Not mine!” Akane countered. The sing-song lilt to her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, to one barely clinging to consciousness. “You could have sent him back my way. You’re just too nice to consider it. And besides, I left you the notebook, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Aoi relented. Perhaps a generous gesture on the surface, but knowing Akane… “Not gonna lie. That surprised me. You’re not usually one to let people copy your notes.” Even her beloved Junpei didn’t get special treatment. He’d once asked her for the answers to their history homework. Even at eight years old, she’d promptly refused, saying it would teach him a lesson and that he’d thank her one day in the future.

“Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t leave him the answers to his test. Not really.” Aoi knew that look on his sister’s face all too well. He didn’t like that look. It usually resulted in a lot of paperwork, and more often than not, a consultation with a really good lawyer. “That was the answer to Goldbach’s Conjecture.”

Aoi gaped, a small dribble of coffee leaking down his chin. “No fuckin’ way. You solved it?” He might not be invested in the world of mathematics outside of finance, but even he had heard of the problem. There was a million dollar prize to anyone who could figure it out, and as of yet, the reward remained unclaimed.

Akane nodded. She covered her mouth as a giddy laugh bubbled from her lips, leaving a smear of scarlet lipstick on her palm. “Remember when I posed as a prospective student at Sigma’s college, back before the consciousness swap?” It seemed like so long ago. Much longer than a couple months. He nodded, the memory fuzzy but there nonetheless. “Well, Sigma’s professor discussed the conjecture briefly in class one day! She thought it would be funny to include it as an extra credit question. He might not get a single question right on the exam itself, buuut if he solves a trick question worth 10000 bonus points… thus rocketing him into the spotlight and acquiring several interesting contacts in the process… and just so happens to also give the reward money as a generous donation to Crash Keys…”

Even Aoi’s sleep deprived mind could understand her angle. “You’re insane. You know that, right? Not a single fuckin’ marble to spare. That’s sayin’ something, because you normally have a lot of marbles.”

“You love my marbles, and you know it!” Aoi did know it. And he knew she knew it, too. Neither of them were particularly sentimental; still, the rush of vague laughter and teasing and outright affection flowing between their minds was unmistakable. “Here,” she said. “I brought you a gift! I thought it might help your migraine.”

From a small pouch in her backpack, Akane produced a silver thermos. I was going to save it for the end of the shift, she thought, but you look like you might need it now.

Aoi very did need it now. Have I ever told you how much I fuckin’ love you?

Even from her thoughts, she glowed with unmistakable pride. Hmm, maybe once or twice! But I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.

The pleasant atmosphere didn’t last long, however. It hardly ever did at Crash Keys Headquarters.

The chaos began with a large thunk. And then another. And another. So powerful were the blows against the boardroom door, that the very walls shuddered under their magnitude. Aoi flew to his feet, reaching instinctively for the small switchblade in his shoe. That was before, of course, the offending presence spoke.

“Akaneee!” Sigma called from the hall. His voice was near hysterics, though Aoi doubted sleep deprivation was the only cause. “I have some extremely powerful yet equally conflicting feelings about you right now!”

“Will someone please make him shut up?!” A second voice snapped. Phi’s voice was muffled, though her belligerent tone was easily identifiable. “If I have to hear about his goddamn math prize one more time, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“Hi! Hello! I’m really sorry about them!” A third individual piped. Diana sounded breathless—far different from the composed individual Aoi had met at orientation, though there was still an air of authority to her tone. “Sigma was up late, you see, and then he woke Phi, and from there it all just kind of—“

“You know, Aoi,” Akane interjected. “I think maybe we’ve finally found our bluebird.” The muffled exclamations from the other room elevated to a disgruntled, unintelligible roar; and amidst the chaos, Aoi could have sworn he recognized Light’s voice, proclaiming something about a herd of feral wildebeests and enough ruckus to rouse even Clover on a Monday morning.

Aoi snickered as he lifted the thermos from the table. Its inviting warmth seeped instantly into his weary bones. “Maybe you have. Think I’m still about three cups short of mine.” He took a large swig of his too-hot tea, and despite the tomato, it tasted like home.

#submission #zero escape #zero time dilemma #miraicrystal #caramellum #zecret santa 2021

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sashi-ya · 3 years

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{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH.2

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory. ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages. ♥ TW: Nightmares related to PTSD. Little NSFW. no further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥Thank you for the likes and follows, I appreciate it them so so much! If you wanna know when I’ll be updating the next chapters, you can follow me on Twitter @LawIsMyWaifu, come interact I love to have mutuals that love Law and One Piece as much as I do ♥

Word count: 4.1K

» List of parts: {CH1} {CH2} {CH3} {CH4} {CH5} «

Chapter 2.

The sound of his low, raspy voice resonated all over my head, making my body react instantly. I gasped as I felt a strike of pleasure travelling down my stomach to in between my legs. Closing my eyes, unable to move, I didn’t want to move, I wanted him to keep whispering, to kiss my neck… “Hahahaha, I’m sorry, I’m just fooling around, your face, you look astonished Y/N-ya”, he said while laying back on the bed, laughing. I chuckled as I stood up brushing my clothes as if I was trying to fix them. “Stop it, I’m not into that you ass. Goodnight”, I said trying to dissimulate how agitated and embarrassed I was.

Almost running, I left the room, directly to mine, holding on my hand my underwear. I jumped to my bed resting violently on my back. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” ... a little time passed until I passed out.

Hard knocks on my door woke me up. “Vice-Captain!! wake up! breakfast is ready!!!” Clione shouted from the corridor. “God damn how many times I have to tell this whole crew I fucking hate being awakened with shouting?” I mumbled annoyed, covering my face with the sheets.

I was brushing my hair when I remembered my “memory box” for some reason. Opened my drawer and found the little velvet red box that holds my “treasures”. Inside, there is a photo of my parents with me when I was 7, happy, eating some ice cream with them. It was taken during one of “the white parades”, on Flevance, before everything turned into hell. A little blue bow that my little sister used to wear, some photos of Law, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin and me when we were the only members of our crew. And, a necklace Law made with some seashells as a gift for my 15th birthday, were also inside.

I got watery eyes while looking at it, “I must be getting old”, I thought, “I got emotional over the memories” ... laughed and put everything back to its place.

“Morning..” I said, greeting the whole crew that was already devouring their breakfast. I noticed Law wasn’t there, so I had to ask. Uni told me he was in the control room preparing for the arrival at the next island. I took a few pancakes and some tea and headed to the control room to ask my captain if he needed help.

“Good morning, doc”, I saluted him. Law that was seated facing the controls, turned the chair to look at me nodding. He has more dark circles as always, so I asked him, “Oi, did you sleep last night? are you feeling sick again?”. “I’m ok, I didn’t get much sleep last night. I got caught up with the book I was reading”, he answered with his usual unfriendly tone. “Yeah, right” I answered back, rolling my eyes, and proceeded “Let me know if you need something before we get to the island”. Left the control room and went back to my room.

I knew him well to know he hadn't slept because something was worrying him, and not because he was reading the old comic book of “Sora, the warrior of the sea against the evil Germa 66”. But hey, Law never shows any emotion besides annoyance if he is not sick.

A few hours later, the submarine got to the shore of some winter island, and we all got ready to accomplish our assigned tasks. “Ok everyone, we will meet here at 7 pm, is that clear?” told my crew members, everybody agreed and headed to the island.

The temperature was pretty low, and it was snowing. Law was wearing the long black coat with yellow dots and our Jolly Roger that he used to wear at Punk Hazard, his hat and of course the Kikoku over his shoulder. I love when he wears warm clothing, he looks so cozy, hiding his mouth behind the collar. (He does it so his lips don’t get chapped with the cold breeze, haha). I don't like to wear the boiler-suit when we get to explore islands, so I decided to wear a long yellow coat with a hood, also with our crew's Jolly Roger emblazoned on the left side of the chest.

We asked a few civilians where to find a pharmacy and headed to the destination following their instructions. Law didn’t say much during the walking, as he normally does.

The island seemed a little bit deserted, yet it had picturesque streets, full of colour that stand out from the snow. It has cobbled lanes, some canals of crystallized water, there were wooden houses and shops with little lights that garnished their architecture giving the place a romantic aura. The scenery behind the city center included big snowed mountains and a big castle over one of the highest peaks.

I saw a boutique with some cute sweaters on display that caught my eyes and I wanted to try them on. “Law, would you mind if I enter here? I want to buy a new sweater.”, I said. Law looked at me and made a gesture with his hand as he was saying to go ahead.

While searching for the sweater I like on one of the clothing racks I saw through the shop window that a few kids approached the captain. The seller asked me if I needed some help, so I stopped looking at him and l directed my gaze to the girl in the shop. So, I forget about him.

After buying two cute pullovers, we continued walking through the picturesque streets.

When we finally arrived at the pharmacy shop, it seemed like it was closed, but the door was open, so we entered. I rang the bell over the counter and waited for someone to show up. Law walked in front of me and had his hand over his sword. I knew he was alert and trying to protect me even if he didn’t say a word. I didn’t think we could be in danger, yet he never fully relaxes when we are outside. After all, he is one of the most wanted pirates of our generation, so it's understandable he trusts no stranger.

After a minute or so, an old lady approached the counter from the inside of the store. She seemed a little weak and perhaps a little sick. She coughed, covering her mouth with a handkerchief, and then greeted us. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?”, she asked. Law handed her a list of supplies we needed, and we waited. “Oi, don’t you think she looks bad? I mean, she is probably sick, should I ask if she is ok?”, I told Law who gave me a disapproving sight. I rolled my eyes, and said, “Fiiiine…”, “You know that I hate you rolling your eyes at me, you did it yesterday and now too. Stop it.” I looked at him with an “excuse me?” face and while I was about to spit an insult to him the granny appeared. “I’m sorry, I put on the bag some of the supplies, but I don’t have everything you need. We are short on medicines'', she informed us and started coughing harder. “Excuse me, Mrs. Are you alright? are you sick?”, I asked as she seemed to lose composure from all the nagging coughing. Law, that hated when I don’t give a fuck about what he had just said, gave me the look of death. “Oh young lady, we are pretty much sick, a strange illness is hitting the island. Even the only doctor in town fell ill. The orphanage, though, is getting the worst part. All of the kids are bedridden”, as she said, the memories of Flevance and the amber lead disease hit me.

Law's expression changed to a more compassionate one and asked about the symptoms they were experiencing. He might be serious, he might not want to get involved in a lot of things, but he is a true doctor. And he can't let people die if he can help.

We decided to visit the orphanage in hopes of helping the sick people, so we asked the old lady to give us directions to it. She said it was pretty far from the city center and told us her husband would take us there with his cart.

"Thank you so much for offering your help, young doctors", said the old lady's husband that later told us his name was Gerald. The cart was pulled by two brown percheron horses that opened their way through the white landscape.

We had a small talk during the journey, until Gerald asked, "how long have you been together? Are you already married?". Despite the freezing cold weather, my cheeks turned to fire, and I could sense Law hiding his head even more into his coat and hat. Almost as if clarifying that we were no couple was a life or death situation I said, "WE ARE JUST BEST FRIENDS!". I realized I almost shouted and felt mortified. Gerald looked at us with a little smirk and kind eyes, excusing himself for the mistake.

A few minutes after we arrived at the orphanage. It took us almost 30 minutes to get there and the sun was starting to set on the horizon.

When we entered the place, the situation was worse than we thought. There were kids and adults lying on the ground, some of them shivering, others coughing while others were straight unconscious. A few nurses were working in order to maintain them, but the situation had clearly surpassed them.

Immediately Law and I started working. While I helped the nurses, Law used his ope ope no mi power to scan the bodies of the sick people.

We got to the conclusion that what they were suffering was a type of bacteria that caused the respiratory symptoms and the fever.

During our duty, there were times when our eyes interlocked, and we smiled at each other. I wouldn't say we like people suffering, but, we certainly enjoyed working to save lives together.

A few hours passed since we arrived there, the sun was already set, and outside it seemed as if a snowstorm was beginning. I've lost track of time until my portable Den Den Mushi started to ring. "Oi, y/n, where are you? Is Law with you? Are you alright? We've been waiting for you on the shore! It's 9 pm already and we were supposed to meet at 7!", shouted Shachi from the other side of the line. "Oh my God I'm sorry I forgot to tell you!... you see …" I explained to them what we've been doing and that we were probably not going to return to the submarine in a few more hours.

The kids and the other people began to get better and those who were helping there offered us some food that we accepted happily.

While we were having dinner, Gerald got back from outside, who's been in the forest collecting some firewood. He informed us that the weather was getting really bad so coming back to town would be pretty dangerous.

Law and I agreed that staying there for the night was the safer choice.

One of the nurses, Sister Alley, told us we could spend the night in the cabin next to the orphanage. "I'm really sorry guys, I wished we had a better place for you, we owe you so much. The cabin has a fireplace, Gerald would start a fire to keep you warm”, she said. We both smiled at her and thanked for it.

We walked some meters through the forest until we started to catch sight of a wooden cabin. Despite being a strong pirate, I’m the queen of the clumsy people, so I slipped off with what I assume was an ice patch on the already snowy ground. I was about to hit the ground when Law grabbed me by the waist and saved me from a few bruises. His face in front of mine, the feeling of being safe on his arms, I wished it has been eternal. But the romantic moment was destroyed by Law mocking me. “It must be the devil fruit; how come you are so clumsy? Be careful”, he said, and I told him to shut up, this time I wasn’t embarrassed, but I was almost angry at him.

“Here we are, let me help you with the fire”, Gerald said, opening the wood door that creaked as it moved. The inside felt cozy, there were a few cushions and pillows on the ground next to the fireplace. There were no separate rooms, so in the middle of the lounge there was some kind of mattress with a few blankets over it. Our “host” asked for forgiveness about the lack of separate beds, but Law intercepted him and said, “It’s ok sir, we are grateful to have a warm place to stay until tomorrow. If you need help with any patient during the night, just please tell us”. It might be ok for you, damn Law. Was I supposed to sleep with him? - I mean, I wanted to, but, he was still my best friend, and those thoughts should have been erased.

Gerald wished us a good night and returned to the main building.

I hung my coat and as I love to explore, I started to do so around the little wooden house. The kitchen seemed really equipped, so I grabbed a kettle and some cups. Gerald was kind enough to give us some tea bags, so I thought making some tea was a great idea.

Law was next to the fireplace, wearing only a sweater and his jeans. Apparently he has already hung up his coat and his white spotted hat. I saw him once more with a lost sight that seemed to contemplate the firewood.

Looking at him with my face resting on my arm that was over the breakfast nook, I got lost worshiping his profile. I’ve always adored his upturned nose, his spiky black hair, his facial hair, the contrast between his grey eyes and the tanned skin. How come he has always been so handsome, but I’ve never seemed to fully realize?.

The whistle of the kettle intensified as the water started boiling, but I was so into admiring my best friend's beauty that I didn’t notice. Law turned to me and woke me up from my reverie shouting “Oi, Y/N, the kettle!”. My stupid smile quickly erased from my face, and my whole skin turned red. “Sorry”, I said straight away and turned off the burner.

I served two cups, noticing that the tea has an amazing scent. I believe it was hibiscus mixed with some other spices, perhaps some cardamom and maybe a little hint of clover. The smell of the tea mixed with the slightly one from the logs burning, was wonderful.

I walked to where my captain was, “Here, I think you may like it”, I said and handed him a cup. Our fingers brushed softly when grabbed the tea, he looked at me and said “Thanks”. I sat not so near him over one of the cushions and sipped a little bit of my tea. Law looked at me and stood up from his place. I could sense how awkward he felt when he made a little pause, and then walked away.

Why is he leaving? Did I make him feel uncomfortable?, I asked myself trying to hide little stings of pain on my chest that traveled to my throat. Somehow I felt like crying, and when my eyes started to get slightly watery, Law approached me placing his hand over my right shoulder.

I turned my face to him, looking up with a slightly pouty face. I was about to cry, and I didn’t even know why when I noticed a blue little box on his hand.

He sat next to me and said, "Do you remember when we were 15?, that day when I gave you that necklace I made myself for your birthday? I looked at him confused but I answered, "yes, of course, I got it on my memory box, I'm afraid to wear it outside the polar cause it might get lost and I wouldn't forgive myself if I lose it". He was now looking at the little box moving it around nervously and finally said "I got you a better one". He handed me the little box still not looking at me.

"A present?? OMG Law, thank you very much!" When did you buy it??" I almost shouted in excitement while opening the box. Inside there was a fine rose gold necklace that has a little anatomical heart figure as a pendant. I grabbed it and admired the beauty of the jewelry I had in my hands. The heart had a little red stone crimped on it, that shined with every movement.

"Law, this is too much! It must have cost you a lot of Berries, I don't deserve such a fine jewel!, thank you so much", I expressed with a big smile on my face.

"You do deserve more than this, you know. I'm glad you like it", he said, a little embarrassed. “When you were buying the sweaters, I asked some children there if they knew a jewelry store, turned out it was just around the corner”, he confessed.

“Thank you so much, it is just perfect! You know how I adore hearts; they remind me of you.. “Doctor Heart Stealer”” I almost shouted, realizing I have said too much…

I tried to put it on my neck, but I couldn’t clip it right, so I asked him for help. He stood up, kneel at my back and passed from behind the necklace around my neck.

Some branches hit the window violently as they were suffering the merciless wind of the snowstorm outside.

He struggled a little and finally fastened the collar and when he did, the electric power went off. The fireplace was the only source of light, the dance of the fire created figures with shadows and highlights all around the walls of the cabin. We remained silent, maybe a little scared or even surprised, but enjoying the sound of the weather and the creak of the fire.

He was still behind me, and after a few seconds he placed a soft kiss on my back that sent a shiver through my spine. Once again I was unable to speak, did he… did he just kiss my back?.. Before I could say or do something Law stood up and headed to one of the windows. “The storm seems to be even worse than earlier; don’t you think?”, he said, trying to device something through the window.

I couldn’t focus on anything else than the kiss he softly planted on my nape, minutes ago. He suddenly yawned and walked to the mattress that was in the center of the room, on the floor. He then took his jeans off and hopped inside the bed, naturally. I remained on my spot, contemplating his actions. “How could he be acting so normal?, I’m right here. He just gave me a necklace, kissed my skin and now he just goes to sleep?” I said to myself, still with a confused expression on my face.

“Oi, aren’t you coming to bed?”, he asked me, freely. “Yes… give me a second”, I said, and ran to the bathroom. The toilet was pretty tiny and basic, but enough for me to hide for a few minutes. “Come on, Y/N you slept with him two nights ago, it’s ok, he is like your brother, it’s ok…” I thought, trying to calm myself down.

I finally left my hiding place and headed to the mattress. Law was lying there, he took off his sweater, probably while I was in the bathroom, so he was only using a white tight undershirt, that molded his torso anatomy. Some blankets were covering the under part of his body from his hips. He had his forearm over his eyes, covering them with his neck stretched back.

I bite my lip, as a reaction for such a tempting scene. I was enjoying it, watching him breathe peacefully. I started feeling hot, so I took off the sweater but not my jeans and approached the “bed”.

I thought Law was already asleep, so I got in bed trying not to wake him up. I muffled myself up with the sheets. I remained still, hearing the snowstorm, fixing my eyes on the wooden ceiling, as the memories of my childhood flooded my mind. It must be the snowstorm, the wind, the cold that triggered these memories. eventually I fell asleep.

“No, stop it, my family, leave us alone!!!!”, I screamed. “Y/n-ya! Y/n-ya!, wake up!” said Law, pulling me out from the terrific oneiric world I was submerged in. I got lost into his eyes, and remained there with tears streaming from my eyes, rolling into my cheeks. Law was holding me close to his body around his arms. “Are you having those nightmares, again? why didn’t you tell me?”, he asked, worried. “This is the first time in ages, I think it must be the storm, perhaps the orphanage, the children…”, I expressed amid tears. My best friend brushed his tattooed fingers through my hair, moving it out of my face, and then wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“Oi, do you remember what happened when I gave you the first necklace?” he asked, trying to distract me. A feeling of warmth invaded my insides, suddenly I felt happy. “I do...” I said, laughing timidly, and continued, “It was my first kiss”. He smiled back at me, and said, “Mine too”.

For a second we both closed our eyes. I was grabbing the pendant with my left hand cherishing it and the memories of our younger days when we kissed for the first time. We haven't had much time to think about love while striving to survive so we forgot about it, letting the days, months and years pass, leaving the experience as a mere child’s play.

Suddenly we started laughing, Law didn't let go of me, and our faces were pretty close. “Everything's better when you laugh, I hate it when you cry, it makes me so sad…” he said, rubbing his thumb over my right cheek. I stopped laughing, as he got even closer. Almost as if the point of our noses were about to touch. I could feel the warmth of his breath over my lips, and he did too. My heart started racing, and the only thing I could hear was the blood pumping on my ears. I wasn’t moving, I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted to kiss him… I just didn’t care that he was my best friend, I just needed him to kiss me. What is taking him so long? Why am I not moving if I wanted this more than anything?. After a good minute, that felt eternal, he exclaimed “Fuck it”, and plant the sweetest kiss over my lips. A feeling of happiness filled my insides, I’ve never been so joyful in ages, it felt the same way as the first time. I was like a teenage girl experimenting love for the first time. Both smiled still with our lips pressed. I doubted for a second if succumbing to my deepest desires was the right thing to do until he decided to turn the cute kiss into a more passionate one. From then on, the desire I’d been accumulating inside of me took control of my body…

We kept on kissing; Law slid a hand under my shirt timidly caressing the skin of my tummy. The kisses migrated from my mouth to my neck, mixed with little bites that surely would turn into hickies tomorrow.

“Law…” I gasped when his hands reached my breasts. “What?” he replied, whispering next to my ear and pinching one of my nipples in between two fingers…

Chapter 3

Ch1: Link

#Trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #Trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader

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the-chick-of-the-air · 4 years

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Hello my lovelies!

Wow ok I’m sorry I know it’s been a while- I kinda got into a writing slump that wouldn’t let me out, however I’m feeling like I’m getting back into things! Yay!

I want to thank all of you for your continued support in my writing adventures, I seriously can’t describe how much it means to me when I get feedback and love on my work, one of my favorite things to do is make people happy- or really just feel anything- with my writing and I love hearing about it so thank you thank you THANK YOU!!! 🥰❤️

So, now I’m back with a gift! A very long fic that took me way to long to get around to finishing but I wanna share! So here, have this!!

Sorry if the length is too, well, lengthy 😅 I do so hope you enjoy it!

Edit: have added a cut due to length, read below!🥰❤️

Some Wicked Type of Love

Cardan stared down at the vial he held carefully, the greenish liquid sparkled as it sloshed around with the subtle shakes he gave it. This. This would fix everything.

“So, he just has to drink that? Nothing else?” Rhyia asked, unnerved. That unnerved Cardan, his elder sister was hardly ever shaken, so seeing her nervous about something didn’t sit well.

The imp with golden skin smiled thinly. Despite her obvious skepticism, he was the one Rhyia had told Cardan about, the one that could fix his problem, rid him of his ailment.

“That is all.”

Rhyia’s eyes narrowed into slits, “And it won’t hurt him?” Despite how she, along with the rest of his siblings, chose to brush him off more often than not, she did care for him on a certain level. It was why Cardan had approached her in the first place. He trusted her alone to follow through with this task.

“The young Prince shall remain whole and hale. It is to my understanding that he is now indebted to me?”

Cardan was about to protest when Rhyia spoke first, “I will take on his debt to you. When you need a favor, come to me.”

The imp’s smile widened, “Oh it is not a favor I seek in return. Simply bring him back to me once the… effects of the cure have taken hold.”

Cardan didn’t like how ominous that sounded. Nonetheless he nodded to his sister and they moved to leave.

Once they had turned away, they missed how the Imp’s smile grew impossibly wider and a silent laugh fell from his lips.

~.~

“Are you sure about this?”

Her constant questioning was beginning to grate on Cardan’s nerves as they trekked back to Hallow Hall. “For the last time, yes. I am profoundly certain in my decision. Will you let it alone now?”

Rhyia hummed and stopped walking. When Cardan realized she was no longer beside him, he stopped as well and turned to face her. She was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t puzzle out.

“Having the love of a mortal is-”

Cardan turned away sharply and began walking again, “I do not have the love of a mortal! One simply plagues my thoughts, and this is the only way to cure it.”

Rhyia jogged to catch up with him. She linked her arm through his, “All I was going to say was that…being in love with, or having the love of a mortal, is no reason to feel shame. Many of us have loved them, dearly so. The General, our father. Even I have known the affections of one.”

Cardan stopped short. That couldn’t be right. Yes, there were some Folk who took mortals as consorts and lovers- they were good for cultivating many children. The General’s love, he knew, had ended in tragedy. One that produced the very person he so sorely wished to be rid of. His father had an affinity for many a thing unusual, and having Val Moren at his side was just that. Cardan had just always assumed it was out of need for a seneschal who had an undying loyalty to him. But Rhyia?

He glanced at her sideways and she held her chin up higher, “As I said. I am not ashamed of who I have come to adore. Many think them beneath us, I find that to be wholly untrue. They are born, they live vibrant, beautiful lives, and they die, just as we do.”

Cardan shook his head, “They are dirt. A fleeting thing made of dust and water, gone before they can live fully if they do not stay here. They are beneath us.” A practiced excuse, and his sister knew it.

“You feel the need to run from what you do not understand. Do not want to feel. The choice is yours but know this: You are a prince. You may love whoever you see fit to love. Mortals may be weaker than we are, but their ability to love is stronger even than our own. When they find someone fit to adore, they put their entire existence into loving them. They feel it deeply and should you find yourself the object of their affection, there will be nothing they will not do for you,” She looked at him pointedly, “It is an honor to be loved by a mortal.”

Cardan was silent for a moment as her words sank in. The vial in his pocket felt heavier, somehow.

An honor. Cardan had never been granted anything akin to honor before. And as thoughts of auburn hair and rounded ears flashed through his mind, he realized he never would be granted such a thing. He shook his head,

“Even if that were true, my issue does not stem from running from the affections of a mortal.”

Rhyia smiled carefully at her brother, “Of course not. Simply from the possibility that she will not love you as you love her.”

He balked and tugged his arm from her hold, stalking the rest of the way home on his own. He did not love a mortal. He just couldn’t get thoughts of her out of his mind. Her name played on an indestructible loop in his brain, carefully preserved memories of her every sneer and glare followed him into his dreams and emerged with him in his waking hours. She wouldn’t leave him alone.

The liquid in that vial would fix it. It would erase her very essence from each corner of his brain, every fold she inhabited, like a sprite infestation of the mind. He would be rid of every thought, every memory, every feeling he had ever had for her.

Without any further pondering, he lifted the vial from his pocket and uncorked it.

Before he even got inside Hallow Hall, he brought it to his lips.

He threw back the potion and blessedly forgot Jude Duarte.

~.~

Lessons had never been a source of joy for Cardan. In fact, he would go as far to say they were a bane of his existence. Knowledge and learning, taking precious time to become scholarly when he could have been lounging about instead.

An odd absence in his chest pulled at him. He felt as if there was something about lessons that should have- usually would have- brought him some level of entertainment, of satisfaction. Looking around, his comrades by his side as they set up their blankets and baskets on the great lawn for the day, there was nothing amiss.

And yet there was something…

“Here they come.” Locke muttered conspiratorially, looking at someone approaching over Cardan’s shoulder. Valerian leered and Nicasia glanced in that direction before scoffing and looking elsewhere.

Had they all met someone at a revel recently? Someone worthy of their torment? Surely, they would have told him had that been the case.

Either way, he wanted to be included, so he turned as well.

When he caught sight of her, he lost his right to breathe.

There were two mortal girls, they were linked at the arm and looked exactly alike. Twins, highly uncommon amongst the Folk, though it happened often enough for the term to be familiar.

Despite there being two of them, his eyes immediately caught on the one to the right.

She was gorgeous.

Her auburn hair was twisted into a knot at the top of her head, a golden net holding it in place along with a few decorative pins. She was wearing a simple tunic with a crest across her chest that he instantly recognized. The family crest of General Madoc. He had mortal charges?

She clutched her basket in one hand and clutched her sister’s arm even closer. She was whispering something to the other girl and when she glanced up, she locked gazes with him.

It felt as if time had frozen.

She stared at him for a moment, brown eyes boring into his. It was the most beautiful color he had ever had the privilege of seeing. What a shame she shared a face with the girl next to her, her beauty was so striking that it deserved to be all her own. Even so, she was- as far as he was concerned- far more breathtaking than her twin.

She was alarmingly attractive. Distressingly beautiful. The product of tortuous, glorifying nightmares. He needed to know her, needed to speak to her. What did her voice sound like? Was she bold or soft spoken? How long had she been in Elfahme and why had he never encountered her before?

This ethereal creature… he could feel his heart beating so quickly it was growing painful, he had to force himself to take a breath least he pass out from lack of oxygen.

“Who is that?” He knew his voice was little more than a strained whisper as he continued to stare at her.

As soon as his mouth moved, it seemed to shatter some hold that had settled over her. Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a glare so delightfully heated that he could feel it burning his very blood. She was a fiery one.

Her lips pulled into a sneer and he immediately wanted to know what she would taste like. Some strange, horrid concoction of bitter and sweet, no doubt. He had to know.

He could see Nicasia looking at him strangely from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze from the mortal as she moved to an empty area on the grass with her twin in tow. He watched as they spread out their blankets and settled down.

“The Duarte twins? Madoc’s filthy mortal brats? Cardan, are you feeling well?” She asked, rare concern lacing her voice.

He would wager he’d never felt better in his life. He felt something in his chest- the previously empty and wounded area- light up as though something finally came to life in him, as though he were finally whole.

“What’s her name, the one on the right?” He ignored the strange looks his friends gave him, never looking away from the Duarte twin that had enraptured his attention, though she kept throwing disgusted sneers his way every time she looked up to find him still staring.

“Jude?” Locke inquired, glancing gleefully between the twins and the prince.

Something in his mind snapped into place, and he finally understood what had been missing, Jude.

Her name looped around his thoughts, over and over.

Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude…

He needed her. He felt it, he…

Cardan Greenbriar was in love.

~.~

Waiting for lessons to end was nearly unbearable, the only consolation Cardan got was from staring at the object of his affections throughout the day.

Each time she caught him staring, she would glare and turn away sharply, as though his gaze had branded her. Each time it sent a thrill through him, something he had never felt before, even with previous lovers. Even with Nicasia, who was sitting right next to him through the whole day.

It was perhaps hasty on his part, this whole bodied acceptance of his feelings, but Cardan was never one to curb his indulgences. After all, when the Folk fell in love, it was often that it happened deeply and all at once. This was nothing out of the ordinary, and the prince looked forward to trying to shower this lovely fiend in affections as soon as he could speak with her.

As soon as they were released for the day, he issued Locke to distract her twin, having seen how they stole glances at one another during their lessons. The fox like faerie was all too happy to oblige and Cardan found himself trailing his new love off the palace grounds and into the forest, glad she hadn’t bothered to wait for her twin.

It took about two minutes for her to stop, once they were out of sight of the palace behind them. She turned and her gaze locked onto him.

He continued forward until he was a mere foot away from her. He said nothing and simply stood there, watching, waiting for her to speak first.

“What do you want?” Oh, how delightfully sharp her voice was! Even drenched in irritation, it was soothing as a balm to his aching head after listening to Nicasia’s grating prattle all day. She looked momentarily surprised at herself, as though she were normally much milder. Though she quickly shook it off and continued to glare at him.

He decided to forego beating around the bush, she seemed like the type of person who enjoyed being direct, getting straight to the point. That spot in his chest she now occupied throbbed a bit, “You’ve captured my attention. You’re quite alluring, Jude. That is your name, correct?”

A completely logical question, but she looked at him as though he had two heads. Actually no- there was at least one two headed faerie out there- she looked at him as though he had just asked her to shoot him through with an arrow, like he was an idiot in need of mental help.

“Is this some kind of trick?” Her voice was dripping disgust and her hand twitched as though she wanted to reach for something but thought better of it at the last moment. Her eyes narrowed further and he found himself wishing she would look at him normally so he could see her eyes fully. They must be exquisite this close up.

He shook his head, shifting towards her, she took a step back, “No trick. I know I’m being forward, but I find you most enchanting, perhaps we can walk together?” he smirked at her. He knew how to be charming, had won a few hearts that way. However, she sneered at him as though she were completely immune to it- even better!

“’Perhaps we’… What are you doing, Cardan?” she nearly growled his name and he found he quite liked the way it sounded coming out of her mouth.

“Expressing my interest in you,” he stepped closer and grabbed one of her hands gently, tried not to laugh when she casually pulled it away and unsheathed a small dagger at her hip, “As I said, you have my attention.”

She looked confused a moment, even slightly concerned. It vanished quickly and she held the dagger a little higher. Outright threatening him. Yes, he was definitely in love!

“What has gotten into you? Some sort of sickness the Folk get? Have you been drinking already?”

Already. For some reason that stuck in his head. ‘Have you been..’ it sounded as though she knew of his habits. Granted it was no secret that he preferred various wines over most other beverages any day, but only those who paid attention to him knew that. He was under the distinct impression they had never met before.

That spot in his heart throbbed again, painfully.

“You…” He took a step towards her and she backed up several paces, her blade gleaming between them.

“If this is some new way of trying to get me to back down, you can drop it. It’s not going to work. You’ve managed to pit Taryn against me already, and as long as you leave her alone, we have an understanding but that’s it. I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you touch either one of us. Now leave me alone.”

Cardan didn’t understand half of what she was talking about. Who was Taryn? Her twin perhaps? He hadn’t bothered with her name. How did Jude figure he had pit them against one another? And how had he and Jude come to an agreement of sorts if he had never met her before?

As she backed away, dagger still held offensively as though she expected him to lunge for her, he realized he was going to need answers to his growing list of questions before he tried to pursue her further.

He held up his hands in what he hoped was a placating gesture, watching as she continued to move away before she was far enough to turn and hastily make her way from him. He gazed after her a moment, wishing that had gone differently, then turned and started to trek his way home, suddenly in a somber mood.

~.~

Jude huffed out a breath of frustration as she re-sheathed her dagger, trying to figure out what on earth had just passed between her and Cardan.

You have my attention. That was normally a bad thing, but the way he had been gazing at her…she could feel her blood heating and it wasn’t all due to hate.

So wrapped up in trying to figure out what had just happened with Cardan, Jude didn’t realize someone else was following her until it was too late.

She jumped an embarrassingly high distance into the air when Princess Rhyia appeared beside her.

“Oh! Uh, your highness.” Jude muttered, dropping into a low curtsy.

She tried to keep her wits about her when the princess gripped her arm and looped her own through it. She smiled warmly at Jude, something she found slightly disconcerting, and said, “Walk with me.”

Her tone was gentle, but Jude understood a command when she heard one, and Rhyia was all but physically dragging her by the arm, so she really had little choice in the matter.

“Tell me, young Jude. What do you think of my brother?”

Jude didn’t bother asking for clarification. If Rhyia had followed her all this way, it was likely she had just seen whatever it was that had transpired between Cardan and herself. She was about to blurt out “I hate him, as he does me” when she stopped herself. It probably wasn’t wise to badmouth him to his sibling. Not to mention it felt…odd, to say that all of a sudden.

The princess caught her hesitation and squeezed her arm gently, “Please, speak freely.”

Well then, “Um…we don’t…we don’t see eye to eye.” A huge understatement, though Rhyia simply nodded, keeping quiet as she waited for Jude to go on. “I take it you know why he was acting so strangely back there?”

For a startling moment, the princess looked upset. She schooled her features quickly, though. “Usually, I would feel it is not my place to meddle. But Cardan… it is no excuse, I know, but… he doesn’t always understand his own feelings.”

Jude bit the inside of her own cheek. She had quite a bit to say when it came to Cardan and feelings. She kept quiet as his sister went on.

“I shouldn’t be the one to reveal all the details, but I can tell you that he feels very strongly for you. So strongly in fact, that he went to extremes to stop feeling for you. It would appear his plan backfired.”

Strong feelings? Backfired? What? “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Cardan approached me yesterday, asking if I knew of a way to rid him of feelings he couldn’t stand to feel. I took him to an imp I know of, who gave him a potion, a…cure, he called it. It would erase the thing that ails one from their memory.”

Jude was putting the pieces together now. For an inexplicable reason, something tugged at her chest, dark and ugly. “He…wanted to forget me?” She asked carefully.

Rhyia smiled, obviously happy Jude was understanding, “You were haunting him. He couldn’t cease thinking of you and it was driving him quite mad. So, he sought a solution.”

“A solution?” Jude scoffed, the hurt in her chest growing, “So rather than…than talk to me, he decided to erase me from his memory?!” She couldn’t fathom why this truth hurt, why she even cared-

“Well, he tried. I’ve been watching him today. It seems that, if anything, his feelings for you are much clearer now.” She nodded to herself, as if this was a completely logical situation.

Jude felt like she couldn’t breathe. Cardan, he felt something for her? Something other than hate?

She thought back to a piece of paper, her name dashed out over and over and over, like he was trying to immortalize her, pen her down on paper so she should never be forgotten.

Suddenly, she was recounting every interaction they had ever had, every weighted look and spiteful word. Each trick and torment and barb thrown at one another. The way they relentlessly targeted one another, trading blows in every form one could think of. She recalled the way Taryn begged her to let it go, to quit this twisted game but she couldn’t. She would not forfeit. She didn’t want to stop.

And he was just as guilty. Each time they went toe to toe, he wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t leave her alone, almost as if he needed this game they played just as much as she did, just to feel... and each time, there was an air of something heavier behind it all, something unspoken and deadly and mutual.

Something like obsession. A twisted kind of heart-breaking. A tragic back and forth dance. Evil, heated, something intense, some…

Some wicked type of love.

She didn’t realize she had stopped moving until Rhyia pulled her arm from Jude’s. They were nearing Madoc’s estate, but Jude found she didn’t want to go home just yet.

“He…We, uh…” Great, at a loss for words in front of royalty. But Rhyia just smiled wider.

“I heard there is a way to bring back memory stolen by a potion, a kiss of true love or something of that nature. But you didn’t hear it from me.” The princess leaned in and placed a sisterly kiss on Jude’s cheek before she winked and walked away.

Jude stood there, stupidly staring at nothing just off the edge of Madoc’s estate for far longer than she would have liked to admit.

She… she loved him? She wanted to be wrong, but it felt like she had just discovered the answer to everything she never realized she was questioning. Her chest ached, she had to get to him. What had Rhyia said? ‘kiss of true love’? Like from a story book? Ridiculous. And exactly the kind of thing that would happen to her.

Jude squared her shoulders, resigning herself to her decision.

Without giving herself a chance to reconsider, she turned on her heel and started to backtrack to Hallow Hall.

~.~

Cardan was only slightly surprised when Jude traipsed through his open balcony doors an hour later. He wasn’t sure what she had against using the front door like a normal person but epic declarations of love were often much more, well, epic when preceded by dramatic entrances.

He liked her flair.

“Somehow I knew you would show up.” He was genuinely glad to see her, though if she was here to tell him off again, he wasn’t sure how he would manage. He would find a way, though, for her.

“Shame on me for being predictable.” She muttered, moving further into the room. She regarded him coolly, “You really don’t remember me?”

Cardan held up a finger and moved to his desk. He picked up an empty vial that was sitting atop. He held it out to her.

“I assumed I was at a revel last night and that was why I couldn’t recall anything, however today’s events are making that hard to believe.”

Jude took the vial from him, careful not to touch him as she did so. She examined the glass, rolled it over in her hands a few times. She glanced back up at him and he was happy to find her eyes open wide. He was right, a gorgeous color.

“I assume you don’t know what this is.” She shook the vial.

He shook his head, “I figure it’s the cause of my lapse in memory. Now I wonder what was in it and why I needed it,” He looked her over carefully, head to toe and back up again, “And why it seems tied to you.”

She pocketed the vial, though he wasn’t sure why she would want it, “Have you spoken with Rhyia today?”

Rhyia? “What does my sister have to do with this?”

“She accompanied me home, don’t give me that look- she snuck up on me. She told me that yesterday you asked for her assistance in acquiring something. A cure, of sorts.”

Cardan ignored the jealousy he felt against his sister-how unfair that she got to walk Jude home- and mused over Jude’s words. A cure… “I don’t recall being ill before last night.” He crossed his arms, watching her. Even the way she just stood there was astounding. He could look at her forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough to give her the attention she deserved.

“Well, you weren’t sick, exactly. You…wanted someone erased from your memory.” Her voice went quiet. Odd, from what he knew of her thus far, that seemed extremely out of character for her.

“That would explain the memory loss.” Horrible attempt at a quip, though her mouth quirked up at the corner, he got her to smile! Despite her obvious upset, his chest warmed. He wanted to see her grinning, to hear her laugh. Perhaps he would, one day.

“Yeah, well, it definitely did its job.”

It hit him, then. He had wanted to forget someone, his comrades had displayed obvious distaste for the Duarte twins even though Cardan could not recall ever meeting them. Rhyia had gone to Jude after their…talk in the woods, and Cardan hardly believed it had been Jude’s twin he had wanted to forget.

“You.” He said quietly, watching her shift her weight from one foot to the other, “I wanted to forget you?” He hardly thought it possible, she was a delight! He had never known what the missing piece of his entire existence had been until he laid eyes on her for the first time- ok, not first time, rather the first time he remembers. All the same, looking upon her beautiful countenance now, he could quite confidently declare his past self absolutely mad for attempting to purge her from his thoughts.

Jude shrugged and stepped closer, “I guess I was haunting you. And you don’t like knowing there is something out there that you can’t have.”

His heart plummeted. He wished it to soar at the obvious fact that she seemed to know him so well, however her words crushed the fragile hope that had been budding within him since he left her alone in the woods, “And I can’t? Have you?”

Her gaze was intense and piercing when it landed on his own. Again, he marveled at the color. The rich hues of brown one found upon the forest floor, the cracked deck of a mighty ship, all the copper and wood and soil of the earth blending together to solidify themselves in the alluring shade of her eyes. He couldn’t breathe.

She forewent answering his question, “Your sister told me there is a way to restore your memory, if you would have it.”

“Yes.” He found himself breathing, already enticed at the prospect of remembering this wicked girl before him. Obviously, his past self had been an idiot for trying to forget her. He cleared his throat, “What is it?”

She took another step, then another, stopping only when they were so close he had to tilt his head down to meet her eyes.

“I’m not sure it will work, but I know you’ll find it entertaining.”

Gently, he reached up to wrap a lock of her hair around his finger. She didn’t seem to mind as he asked again, “Is there a chance? That I could have you?” He’d never had anything solely his, never won affections simply because someone had cared for him. He knew if she could be that for him, he’d want for nothing more in his life ever again.

Slowly, she lifted a hand to his cheek. He found himself leaning into it readily as she pulled his face closer to hers.

She seemed to hesitate, considering something before she answered, “So long as I could have you.”

He would have answered, ‘Anything, you can have anything you want’ had she not closed the distance and pressed her lips to his.

~.~

The memories came rushing back all at once and they nearly knocked his breath out of his chest. But he only gave his history with his gorgeous villain a passing thought as more pressing matters settled themselves in the forefront of his mind.

Namely, the fact that Jude was kissing him. Jude. As everything he knew about her, about them fell into place he had to wonder if he was dreaming. But no. He’d imagined this very moment before and… It had all his hopes, his expectations paling in comparison to the actual sensation. She was warm and her mouth was soft even as she roughly slanted it against his own. Even when showing affection, she felt the need to be in control and he lent it to her willingly.

In the back of his mind, he recalled having always assumed that their first kiss would be intoxicating and drenched in delirium- why else would either of them fall into the other without a fight, if not for the moment being brought about by emotions stronger than they could contend with? And while it definitely lived up to that expectation, he had also always assumed it would be over rather quickly. That she would pull away abruptly, muttering about mistakes and small, ironic acts of vengeance.

That is where the likeness between imagination and reality broke away.

In reality, as soon as her mouth met his and she gave him a moment to feel the onslaught of memories, she stepped closer, forcing him to bend slightly to accommodate their height difference. The hand that had been resting on his face slid up, over the pointed tip of his ear and into his hair while her other arm fastened tightly around his shoulders, pulling him flush against her.

He fumbled for a moment- which was really something wasn’t it? Wasn’t he the more experienced of the two? How thoroughly she had undone him already!

Once his bearings were back intact, he slipped his arms around her waist, molding himself to her. He marveled at how seamlessly they seemed to fit together. A lock and- wait, no. No Locke. Two pieces of the same puzzle finally snapping into place.

His mind gave over to a blank sort of haze, melting along to the backdrop of her name looping around his thoughts, Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude and for a bare moment he understood again why he had forced her out of his mind, for she was the only thing in the universe that had the power to drive him into pure madness.

He would happily crash into insanity now, with her wrapped around him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip demandingly. He obliged to her wishes, would cater to her every twisted whim if she would have it. One of his hands snaked into her hair as he deepened their kiss, he felt her fingers dig into his back harshly in response. He felt that should he die now, he would leave this existence fulfilled and whole.

Once the need for oxygen became unrelenting, he pressed his mouth firmly against hers, once more, and pulled away.

Again, his imaginings of this moment ended here or before, with her pulling away, that beautiful scowl etched across her perfect face, muttering foul and soul wrenching words like mistake and useless.

And again, reality outshone even the darkest parts of his mind. As soon as he pulled back, she stayed near a moment, waiting to see if he would come back. When he didn’t, she sighed through her nose, the sound almost content and she peered up at him.

His eyes locked on hers as she let her hands explore the breadth of his shoulders, the column of his neck which she glanced at briefly before her gaze snapped back to his own, full of something like longing.

When he didn’t move, said nothing, she tilted her head to the side as she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. “Well?” was all she said.

It took him a moment to register what her meaning was. She wanted to know if he remembered her, their history. He blinked, “I…remember.” He stated cautiously. He couldn’t lie of course, but he almost wanted to. So terrified was he of what that knowledge would mean for them, for what had just transpired between them. His imaginings never prepared him for this.

Or for what she did next.

A smirk, more of a small smile, really, bloomed across her features. That in itself was jarring but since this was Jude and ambition was what drove her out of bed in the morning, of course she took it further than simply jarring. She leaned in again, placing a kiss to his cheek, along his jaw, his nose even, before she finally claimed his lips again. It was past shocking. Had he known memory loss would lead to this he would have sought out his sister for help much sooner.

Though really, why was she even doing this? Just yesterday she had been scowling at him every time they glanced at each other, just an hour ago she had been threating his life, warning him to back off. What had changed?

This, while thrilling, wasn’t ideal. Insecurity was not something Cardan was overly familiar with these days, not when it came to her. This information is what had him puling away gently, looking at her in earnest.

“Why the sudden interest?” He debated throwing a quip or scathing remark of some sort her way, a sudden and desperate need to get back to their malicious bantering washing over him, though he shoved the thought away. He was genuinely curious as to what changed her mind.

She shook her head as she finally left his embrace, “I had just been thinking and realized that somewhere along the way, strong feelings of hate had shifted into strong feelings of…something else.”

She looked put out at the thought that she had developed any sort of emotion for him other than contempt, but he had to agree with her sentiment. He bristled to think that that potion hadn’t done its job right, but it had done something. Before, he had been content to half-lie to himself, to convince himself so profoundly that he was not enchanted, mind and body and soul by this girl before him.

What was it Rhyia had said? It is an honor to be loved by a mortal.

Cardan felt that maybe there was honor in loving one, too.

He bit the inside of his cheek before asking, “And you meant what you said, before?”

So long as I could have you.

“Yes.” She sounded so sure. He liked to believe she wasn’t lying. She rubbed at the missing tip of her finger as she watched him, “So, where does that leave us?”

Bring him back to me when the effects of the… cure have taken hold. He’d gotten more than he had bargained for. He held out his hand to Jude.

She reached for it instantly and he tried not to let it show how deeply that affected him, his head already wanting to go fuzzy with nothing but the thought of her.

“I owe a visit to a certain imp.”

Fin

And that is that! Please let me know your thoughts! And I am so excited to be sharing again and looking forward to what I plan to write in the future☺️ (jeez it is so long I’m so sorry for everyone who has to scroll all this way😬😅)

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#cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jurdan #the cruel prince #tcp #fic #long fic #a test in which I see how many times I can write Jude’s name without going insane myself

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ilovefandoms102 · 4 years

Text

Part 3-Where Loyalties Lie

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Potter!Reader

Summary: A forbidden romance is betrayed when the very dark wizard who is out to kill you is your lovers master...

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Part 2

Note: I’m so happy for the love and support you all have given me! Thank you for 500 new friends, I am grateful for each and every one of you! I can’t wait to put out more stuff for you guys!

Would anyone like for me to continue the series for how Draco and y/n raise Scorpius and go through the trials of parenthood? Maybe even include their wedding and wedding night😛...let me know in the comments or message me!

================================

Draco pushed me into the main room, his family eyeing me now. I spotted Hermione on the ground, I went to move towards her. I was stopped by an unspeakable pain, a screech left my throat as I fell just feet from her.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouted, waving her wand at me again.

I convulsed on the floor, screaming as the pain shot from my head to my feet. I rolled to my side, heavily breathing. I scooted to Hermione, her hand barely mustering the energy to hold mine.

“Since this filthy Mudblood won’t talk, perhaps you will Potter. Where did you get the sword?” she seethed.

“Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” I panted.

“Draco! Your wand at the ready, torture this disgusting Halfblood until she admits her faults.” Bellatrix commanded.

“She said she doesn’t know, maybe they’re telling the truth for once.” Draco answered, trying to hide his fear.

“Either you do it, or your father kills them.” Bellatrix hissed, Draco’s face going pale.

They cleared to the other side of the room, leaving just Draco and I with Hermione limp on the floor. Tears started to leak from his eyes, my heart shattered. His hand shook that held his wand, bending his head to let out a sob.

“It’s ok, do what they say.” I spoke, Draco shaking his head.

“I can’t, I can’t do it.” he sobbed, fervently shaking his head.

“Draco please! It’s the only way we’re getting out of here!” I pleaded.

“What is the meaning of this Draco!? Do it!�� Lucius boomed, Draco still sobbing.

“I can’t hurt the girl I love!” Draco shouted, his family gasping.

“You cannot be serious!” Lucius shouted, Hermione’s grip on my hand tightened.

“Fine, if you cannot man up to the task...CRUCIO!” Bellatrix shouted, repeating the spell over and over.

Draco tried to come to my aid, but his father fought to hold him back. He cried as he watched me suffer one of the three Unforgivable Curses, shouting my name as I screamed in pain. I couldn’t even put into words what the pain felt like, an excruciating void of unending beats was the best way to put it.

I tried to reach out for Draco as blood started to fall from my ears and mouth, him trying to do the same with the restriction of his father.

“Please Bella! Stop, please!” Draco yelled, falling to his knees as Lucius scrapped to get a hold of him.

“That’s enough Bella,” Narcissa spoke, pulling on her sister’s arm.

“Consider yourself lucky you belong to the Dark Lord Potter. For your friend, I can’t say the same.” Bellatrix sighed.

There was a sudden commotion as Harry and Ron burst into the room, firing off spells. Draco pretended to drop one of ours, rolling it my way. I fired one at Lucius, knocking him several feet away. It was a struggle trying to get up, only to be snatched by Narcissa, my muscles too weak to fight back. Bellatrix held a knife to Hermione’s throat, Harry and Ron dropping their wands at her command.

I looked at Draco, his eyes wide with worry. There was a squeaking sound from above us, looking to see Dobby unhinging the chandelier. It came crashing down, giving enough distraction for Hermione and I to break free. I launched myself at Harry, he held me close as we all huddled to apparate out. I took one last look at Draco, he mouthed those three little words. I mouthed them back, tears shining as we apparated away.

===============================

Harry was headed to the Ravenclaw common room to find the Grey Lady, while I tried to make the Room of Requirement pop up. Just when I was about to give up, I heard creaking behind me, turning to find the Room of Requirement. Harry appeared next to me, dragging me with him.

We looked around the disastrous area for what felt like hours, clapping my hands over my ears when I heard the telling sound of the Horcrux’s. I whipped around to find Harry holding the tiara that belonged to the Helena. Just as I reached him, a voice I knew all too well sounded in the room.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here. What brings you two here?” Draco taunted, Crab and Goyle holding their wands at us as Draco did.

“I could ask you the same,” Harry answered, tugging on my wrist so that I was behind him.

“You have something of mine,” Draco spat, eyeing me before looking back to my brother.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix? You knew it was me, and you didn’t say anything.” Harry asked, tilting his head.

“I would never hurt her,” Draco whispered, the other two Slytherin’s giving him a confused look.

“If you truly loved her-” Harry hissed, now my turn to grab his arm to pull him back.

“Harry!” I exclaimed as they all held their wands higher, at the ready to fire at us.

“Don’t be a prat Draco, do it!” Goyle seethed, Draco gulped before moving his eyes to meet mine.

In a split second, I whipped my wand out. Firing at Draco, disarming him. He turned and ran as his friends continued their assault, Hermione coming to aid. I shouted for Draco, watching as Ron ran after the Slytherin’s.

After some digging, Harry and Hermione plopped back to the ground. Ron came out of nowhere, snatching Hermione’s hand as he claimed that Goyle set the place on fire. Indeed he did as a giant fire in the shape of a snake came bounding after us.

I grabbed Harry’s hand as we weaved through the stacks of rubbish, not finding a way out. I whipped my head in search of Draco, wondering if he made it out alive. My chest burned from the fire, and the thought of the love of my life being dead in the very same room.

We bumped into some brooms, taking off to find the exit. I looked all over for Draco, not spotting him. Harry then caught my attention, whisking around to go back from where we just were. I sobbed in relief when I saw Draco, his eyes lighting up when he caught sight of me. I grabbed his arm, tugging him so he could jump on the back of the broom. He held tightly to my waist, his lips moving to kiss my cheek.

The blast from the fire knocked us off the broom once we reached outside of the Room of Requirement, Draco kissed me before taking off. Harry stabbed the tiara with the Basilisk fang, knocking both of us back.

==================================

My heart crumbled after Harry and I took Snape’s tears to watch his memories. Not only did both of us have to die to completely destroy Voldemort, but that we might not come back. I thought of Draco, that we would never get married, have children, and grow old together. Neither would Harry, but this had to be done.

We found Hermione and Ron at the bottom of the stairs just in front of the castle. huddled together. They stood once they saw us, knowing what Harry and I were about to do. Hermione crushed Harry into a hug, Ron leaning down to hug me tight.

“We all had a feeling this is how it would have to end, no one just wanted to accept it.” I spoke, pulling back to smile sadly at Ron.

“After us, it’s just the snake. Kill it, and you’ll kill him.” Harry said.

Hermione tugged me to her, crying into my shoulder. I rubbed her back, sniffling to hold in my tears. Once I pulled back, I took Harry’s hand as we made our way to the Forbidden Forest. Harry found the Resurrection Stone in the snitch, holding my hand tightly. We looked around to see our parents, Remus, and Sirius. Our mother held her hand out, I instantly went to her. My hand went through her’s, my heart clenching when I couldn’t feel her.

“You’ve been so brave my babies.” she spoke, her voice melodic as it rang in my ears. How I wished I could have heard her voice my whole life.

“You’re nearly there,” our father said, his features resembling Harry so much they almost looked like the same person.

“Does it hurt? To die?” Harry asked Sirius, my eyes leaving my mother’s to look at my Godfather.

“Quicker than falling asleep.” Sirius quipped, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I wish more than ever that none of you had to die, not like this.” I croaked, Harry nodding in agreement.

“I never wanted any of you to die for me,” Harry spoke, looking around at our lost loved ones.

“Remus, Teddy he-” I started.

“Others will tell him what his parents died for, and one day, he’ll understand.” Remus smiled, his eyes looking between Harry and I.

“You’ll be with us?” I asked.

“Until the very end.” our father answered.

“Stay close to us.” Harry said, grabbing my hand again.

“Always,” our mother replied, my eyes tearing up as they disappeared.

===========================

Voldemort had been defeated, finally freeing Harry and I from our life long torture. No more looking over our shoulders constantly, no more people that we loved would have to die for us. I could be with Draco...if I ever saw him again. He fled with his parents after Harry and I revealed to everyone that we were in fact still alive.

“We did it,” I gasped, laughing as Harry and I embraced one another.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were walking across the bridge that separated the castle from the outside world, mindlessly kicking the cement that littered from the battle.

“So what will you do with the most powerful wand in the world Harry?” I asked my brother, turning to face him.

I watched in horror as he broke the wand, throwing the pieces over the edge. He did the right thing though...

“Y/n...” Hermione mumbled, pointing at something behind us.

I turned around hesitantly, my heart soaring at the sight in front of me. Draco stood at the other end of the bridge, once he saw me turn he began walking. I took off in a sprint, tears rolling down my cheeks. He jogged the rest of the way, meeting me in the middle as I crashed into his arms. He spun me around, both of us laughing joyously. I pulled back to look into his eyes, a second later his lips were on mine.

Draco held tight with his arms around my lower back, my feet still off the ground. I licked my way into his mouth, challenging his tongue into a dance of passion. I moved one hand to fist it in his hair, tugging it slightly to hear him moan into my mouth. He sat me down gently, pulling away to lean his forehead to mine.

“You came back,” I sniffled, intertwining our hands.

“I’ll always come back for you my love,” he whispered.

“I love you Draco,” I smiled.

“I love you more y/n,” he sighed, pulling me into his embrace once more.

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delu-jean · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

(Jean x fem!/reader) -> (Angst...) -> 3.5k

Notes: some of the events placed might be a little rushed...but regaredless, enjoy :’D

Ⅳ > Ⅵ

Time had passed after you and Jean confessed. These past couple of days had been peaceful, and enjoyable. Your friends around you chose to give you both space every once in a while. Not knowing when duty would call you (yet again), you both chose to spend your time wisely.

For example, one time, he brought you to the top of one of the hills. You both star gazed with each other till the horizon rose. Both of you in awe of such a beautiful sky. Though enveloped in darkness, each star had its own light, brightening the shadows the galaxies held.

Another being that you both rode for a while. It was great being able to bring out your horses to roam around fields (without the worries of titans). You were also able to make and give Jean a flower crown. Though made of weeds (dandelions), he loved it regardless. He also tried to make one for you, but it didn’t go as planned.

Lastly, although this involved everyone else, you made pancakes. Sasha, Jean, and Connie had helped you out. They weren’t fluffy, but that had to do with the lack of ingredients (imagine crepes). You gave them out and made a jam with the strawberries Sasha and Connie had picked. Reiner and Berthold also helped the two in their spare time. Although not many were there (in both berries and people), the six of you enjoyed two pancakes each.

“THANK YOU Y/N, I LOVE YOU!” Sasha exclaimed and almost took Reiner’s plate, but he shoved her away before she could.

“I haven’t had these for 5 years...I won’t let you take them now-”

“Five years? This is my first time…” Jean pouted and then looked at you. You instead gave him another strawberry to see everyone shocked.

“WHAT, NO FAIR!!” Connie yelled.

“FAVOURITISM AT IT’S FINEST!” Said Sasha, Jean winked and you rolled your eyes.

“Y/n...what about me?” Berthold frowned as you sighed and gave him one of your crepes. He then remarked he was joking, but you insisted. This was one of the treats you loved making for him growing up, and since it had been a while, you wanted to give it to him while you could. Jean looked somewhat shocked, as the other two snickered.

“Hehe, that’s what you get Jean,” they both said in unison.

“Oh shut up.”

You shook your head and got up. Since you had finished, you then whispered in Jean’s ear:

“Come and help me with the dishes,” he immediately got up and followed you as the others watched.

“I can wash them,” you looked at him uncertain.

“I’ll help you regardless,” from there, a water fight broke loose, along with a little teasing here and there. You both laughed, enjoyed your time for Bertholdt to then come over.

“Hey I just wanted to ask...but you do know that all of us are going to be on standby, starting tomorrow, right?” you glanced at Jean and then turned towards Bertholdt.

“Yes, I do,” Jean wasn’t coming with you guys. You weren’t exactly sure as to why, but regardless, he seemed a little sad. You then watched as Berthold put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, be careful out there...okay? Don’t worry about Y/n, we’ve got her.” “Yeah! We all do!” Connie blurts from the other side.

Jean then smiled and nodded: “Yeah...I know you do.”

--- The day came where you now had to perform your duties. You were grateful for the days given, but now, it was time to go and commence your obligations. As you went to your horse, Jean came over and gave you a very tight hug. You knew he didn’t want you to leave (and you didn’t either), but duty called. He sighed and then kissed your forehead. You then looked up at him as he held you close.

“Be safe...I’ll see you soon...Y/n,” you then slid out of his grasp, and sat on your horse.

“You too love,” you watched as his eyes trailed. It seemed as if he wanted to say more, but kept it to himself. You bit the side of your cheek, wondering about what he would say, but decided to let it go as you followed Bertholdt, and Reiner. You guys rode at the back of the group.

“It’s not like you’ll never see him again,” Reiner teased as you smacked his arm.

“Shut up,” you both laughed to then hear Berthold say:

“But Jean?...ah, I guess he’s better than Eren.”

“What?” Although Bertholdt was timid in front of others (including you), he had his moments where he spoke his mind. This being one of them. “I mean, he’s nice and all, but I thought you would get with someone like Armin, you know? Someone a little quieter, and intelligent,” Reiner than responded:

“I mean, you do you, but don’t get too attached,” he joked. You decided to ignore what he said, and because of that, his tone of voice changed from being goofy, to serious.

“I mean it, L/n. You can do whatever makes you happy, that’s fine, but know that type of stuff comes with a price. Especially on the battlefield. Remember, here on Paradis, you might be a scout, but when you go back to Marely, you are a soldier.”

“Nothing about our operation has changed, there was just some delay. Now that we have a clear objective of where the founder is, we have a sense of direction. If your little affair is going to get the best of our mission, drop it. Remember what we came here for, Y/n,” you froze as he said that. Even though you weren’t from here, it felt like you grew up and lived your entire life with the people of Paradis. You did for about five, maybe six years of your life, but even then, such a foreign place felt like home. That being the case, there were times where you had forgotten about your mission. Especially during the training course. However, when Eren arose out of that carcass, that was when an upsetting wake up call hit you, one you tried to snooze for as long as possible. Secretly, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to live out such a dream with your comrades here...but you wanted to push that thought to the side. That way, you would never have to wake into the horrendous nightmare Marely had waiting for you. You sat there in silence for the rest of the ride. For once, you actually needed to listen to what Reiner’s “warrior'' had to say. Though you hated that emotion, it was one who spoke the truth at times. Plus, even if you didn’t want to accept his words, they would revolve around you eventually. You all then halted at the buildings, and made your way.

--- “If you want to sneak out, I will too.”

“But why?” Connie asked as he lazily moved his finger.

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious? We have none of our gear on yet our superiors are geared to the bear of their bones.”

“Maybe it’s bears?”

“For bears, all you need are guns.”

“Guys...let’s settle down, we won’t be here for too long,” you said.

“Um, guy!? I hear footsteps-”

“Sasha, that would only happen if wall rose had fallen,”

“TITANS ARE COMING! WE NEED TO GO, NOW!”

You all got up immediately. Not having time to put on gear, you all got on your horses, ready to help scope/save civilians. Connie and Reiner decided to go south...near the direction titans were running to. Though you were a little scared, you decided to follow anyway. You were concerned about both Connie and Reiner. Plus, three mutuals were better than two. -> You all made it to his village. You looked around the area with Reiner, wondering where everyone had gone. Titans seemed to have imprinted the buildings, but there was no blood shed. It was a mysterious scene alright, but what spooked you even more was Connie’s statement.

“Guys...I think...I think that’s my mom.”

“What?” both Reiner and you asked in unison. Impossible?...how?... Was that even possible? It could only be if... As you kept on thinking, Reiner then said:

“Connie, I think you’re reading too much into this.”

“I...maybe...it’s just a hunch though,” you sat there worried. Maybe it really was. The look on Reiner’s eyes however, made you think the opposite. You chose to leave it alone as your superior said:

“Come on, we need to regroup with the others. No one is here, so let’s go.”

--- It was now dark outside. Your superior held a torch as he guided the rest of you along the wall, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. Problem was, things were. You weren’t exactly sure as to why, but a feeling got the best of you. Knowing that, you approached Reiner with a worried tone in your voice.

“Something feels off...why is that,” you whispered.

“I’m not sure...but keep your guard up,” he responded with.

You then met with another group who had come from the west. You sat there in fear after hearing that they had encountered nothing over there. It should have been a good thing...but no sight of any titans? Whatsoever? Something bad was going to happen, and you could tell as you all grouped, and rode off elsewhere.

“You, rookies. Go and sit in the tower, we’ll patrol from above.”

“Right,” everyone then climbed up the stairs and sat beside one another.

You sat beside Bertholdt as Ymir and Reiner headed elsewhere. You weren’t in the best mood and he could tell as he scooched in a tad. He scrunched both of his legs which were held by his arms. He then looked at you with a sorry look, and then started conversation.

“You okay? What’s up?”

“Bertholdt...what if...what if we, no...I die here?”

“You think you’re going to die before me?” he chuckled and then saw his joke didn’t lighten the mood. He decided to tuck his playfulness away, and instead seemed more sincere.

“Y/n, you will make it back home...we all will. So don’t worry too much, okay? Overthinking is my thing after all,” you nodded and then asked:

“Hey Bertholdt...could you do something for me?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I will, but you’ll have to do the same for me as well.”

“Of course, I promise,” he smiled and then patted you head, just like old times. Although you have grown up, he’s always seen you as his little sister, and always will. He admired you and would try to protect you, no matter the cost. To your surprise, you then were told that titans started approaching. You all rose immediately, chasing for the exit as Reiner led.

“REINER, WAIT FOR US!!”

“WHY IS HE ALWAYS FIRST!?” Connie yelled in frustration.

“GUYS, THE TITANS ARE IN! COME AND HELP ME!”

Before you could get there, Bertholdt ran faster than you. While he aided Reiner, you helped the girls who had found a canon.

“REINER, MOVE!” You yelled and he did so.

“That should hold them off,” Christa said.

“Yes, now let’s go back up,” your body motioned upwards as everyone followed.

You watched as Christa helped fix up Reiner. Although not obvious to some, you and Berthold could tell Reiner was very much enjoying that interaction. And he told you not to get attached to Jean, that hypocrite. You and Berdtholt watched from afar as you whispered:

“Not like he’ll need it anyways,” you meant that both literally (since he was a titan and could heal) and jokingly. Thankfully, Berthold got the joke and chuckled.

“No but...has Reiner always been the self-sacrificial type?” Connie asked as you both froze.

“No...he used to be...more of a warrior.”

“A warrior?...I don’t get it,” Reiner replied.

‘Well I do…’ you thought to yourself.

Though Reiner did have his moments where he was a “warrior” and what not, deep down, you knew he was also a coward. That was another reason why you took her words lightly. Because whenever he would spur, you knew it was out of either fear, the truth, or both to cover up his worries. Like you said, every smile had it’s frowns. Reiner was no different from that, and neither were you.

Your little moment was then interrupted as the sound (and feeling) of collision occurred. You all went up the stairs to the outdoors of that building. Two bodies were laid down and titans were coming up the tower as you spoke. You were told by your superior that someone was toying with your situation, but who? First, no blood shed at the village, second, no titans appeared until now, and third...the coordination that took place...was too odd to call it chance. But what exactly were you guys fighting against?

They then ordered for you to stay back as they both flung. You watched as they fought endlessly. After one titan fell, another appeared. Why was...why was that happening? Berthold stood in front of you as the blades of the two dull. You knew what was yet to come and looked away. The yells of their screams, though you’ve heard them before, still sickened you to this day. Though, you weren’t sure as to why…since you were trained at both here, and Marely to think otherwise.

Ymir then grasped Christa. You weren’t exactly sure as to what would happen, but you then saw her grab a knife from Connie. You were confused as to why she would do such a thing.

‘How is that?...’

“Okay...what’s your plan exactly?” Reiner asked as she touched the tip. “Not sure, but I guess we’ll figure it out together.”

“Ymir, wait. We should plan things out before you go head first into something-”

“Y/n...don’t worry about me. Instead, Christa. Remember the promise we made on the snowy mountain...I have no say as to how you live your life, but...live for yourself,” you saw as the girl sprinted off the building, knife in hand.

All of you watched from afar, shocked. Just what was she doing? Connie grabbed Christa and once you saw that damn spark, you understood what was going on. Ymir had Marcel’s titan...the Jaw. The boys behind you stared terrified, if only Marcel didn’t get eaten by Ymir...would this all have happened?

You gazed as Ymir took out titan by titan. Christa was ready to jump off the roof, while those below kept on fighting back. You weren’t sure what to do exactly, and instead clung onto the brick. Terrified for what was yet to come. Christa then yelled:

“TEAR THIS TOWER TO BITS! LIVE FOR YOURSELF!”

Although you wished Ymir could’ve done differently, it was probably the best option for the six of you. So she did. She ripped each tile to pieces, knocking down titan by titan. She then jumped back, telling you all to hold on. You gripped onto her hair (along with the others) and watched the castle collide with the monsters below.

“YMIR!” Christa screamed as Ymir ran towards the titans arising.

“Hey ugly!! You still have a job to finish!” Connie added.

You couldn’t believe that the jaw was under your nose the entire time. She was just as good when it came to hiding (like the four of you). You watched as titan, after titan beat her exterior to a plump, and the next thing you knew...a titan was right behind you. You knew too damn well the armoured was too important, so you did what any soldier would have done.

“REINER, MOVE!” You pushed him to the side.

“Y/N!” They all screamed as it grasped you.

“DAMNIT!” Reiner yelled as it held you captive. You struggled your way out of that mess, why here, why now? What would Jean think?

‘Jean…’ you froze in terror as the mouth opened, only to hear Bertholdt screaming at the top of his lungs.

“WHY!? WHY Y/N!? LET HER GO!!” You heard him cry as you then slipped into its mouth...watching the place go dark, along with your conscience.

---

“Hey,” it was the morning of the day you were headed towards the standby zone. Jean still embraced you and you could smell the scent of the breeze that lay on him. You sobbed on his shirt knowing this would be the last time you would get to see him.

There was no going back. This was it. The warmth Jean had given you, would now be gone...“With no type of heat, your body started to ice. Instead of struggling, you accepted it...something you wish you didn’t end up doing.”

--- “Heyo kiddo, you can get up now,” your eyes fluttered and then sprung open. Your body was drenched and your muscles sore. Soon enough, you recognized that voice. It sounded way too familiar for you to ignore.

“Zeke…” you coughed as he replied:

“Yes, Zeke Jaeger. The one and only-'' you immediately stood up, put your hand to your heart, and the other behind. But you then quickly changed as you shot your right to your side, and the left with your palm faced towards him. You were terrified to say the least.

“Relax...it’s just us, so no need for formalities. Anyways, tea?” you did as told and sat across from him. Now things were starting to make sense. If Zeke was here, he was probably the cause of all of the commotion, coordination, and suspicion.

You had always known Zeke as the playful kind of guy. Though you weren’t a warrior, since Bertholdt and Annie were, you often got to interact with Zeke. He seemed like a nice person with good intentions, but seeing him from this perspective, had you thinking otherwise. You took the cup he gave to you as he started to go on yet again.

“Honestly, I was expecting one of the warriors...but I guess having you here isn’t a loss. At Least they actually brought me someone who’s from Marely,” he sighed as the titan who devoured you, then went on it’s way. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well isn’t it obvious? To take you home silly, along with the founder.”

“Eren Jaeger?”

“Yes, the man himself. Which if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly does he look like?”

“Well...he’s a brunette boy. 5’9 I would assume, and he also has deep blue, yet greenish eyes.”

“I see, also, what is this gear exactly? I comprehended the idea behind it, but could use more information.”

You and Zeke spent the next hour talking. You explained the way things worked here, along with the ODM gear, and what you knew based on what the warriors had told you. You also explained how this happened in the first place, how their titans were revealed (but not their identities), and how you saved Reiner by pushing him to the side.

“Excellent reaction. We can’t afford to lose the armoured at this rate.”

“I guess so…”

“Also Zeke...why come now?...after all of this time?...” he sighed and then looked at you.

“Well, time is running out, and I already gave enough time for the 4 of you to settle things. I’m surprised but glad you’re still alive.”

“Which reminds me, Y/n, I’m dismissing you from this mission?-”

“What!?” you immediately shot up after hearing him.

“Is there something wrong? Your family is back in Marely, waiting for you. Plus, if you do, the military might acknowledge you. Saying you protected the titans and served marely during the mission to paradis.”

“Though, I can’t guarantee anything.”

‘But...Jean...the others…’ you weren’t given the time to think as he then called out:

“Pieck, come here.”

“Pieck?”

“Why hello Y/n,” she said as you flinched a bit.

“Since she’s armoured, ride at her top if anything. You remember how to shoot, right?” you nodded and he then continued.

“Okay then. I won’t see you for a couple days, but until then, you’ll ride home in the boat at the doc,” right before you climbed up Pieck, Zeke stopped you:

“Ah wait, you’ll need this,” he grabbed you an armband and placed it in your hands.

“I’ll see you soon.”

--- Pieck sent you to the doc. Your eyes dimmed as you both stepped closer to the boat. You were glad the people there were Eldians, because that meant you could let go of your composure (to an extent of course).

“Tell the general that we’ll be on our way soon enough,” they all saluted and agreed. You were now on the boat, and felt as it started to move.

You stood there and watched as the Island drift further from you. If only you could have stayed longer, used your time wiser, and gotten to spend more of it with Jean...you would probably never see him again. The difference between this scenario, versus the one before (the incident that led to your “death”), was that now you were leaving Jean...but alive…. You thought it would’ve been better if you had left him dead. That way, you could have a peace of mind.

Now this guilt would live with you for gosh knows how long. Not only that, but the lingering feeling for him...would always trail behind. You didn’t know how you would cope with this...and honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t. Because it would be the only thing that would make your departure bitter yet sweet...

Ⅳ > Ⅵ

#jean #jean kirstein #jean x reader #jean x you #jean x female reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtien #kirschtein #jean kirschtein x you #jean angst #am tired #chapter five #one of us #horse boy #angSty #cant wait for next chapter :D

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thecagedsong · 3 years

Text

Forgotten Light: Chapter 3: Staged

A/N: Here’s the next one. I hope you like it. Don’t hate me. I’m trying to handle these themes with respect while still remaining in character.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 3: Staged

Kendra woke up with a start, blinking at her surroundings. She was lying in the center of a bed, big and round, with nice sheets, still in her dirty clothes. Bad for the sheets, good for her. Except for a heavy necklace, that was new. She cast it onto the bed beside her. Better safe than sorry.

Itching, icy cold started to crawl into the blankets with her. She pulled the covers over herself and hunkered down, trying to remember.

The first thing she remembered was the door. Unlocking it had done something to her memories. Then Ronodin showed up, and he spent the time arguing with Seth, who claimed to be her brother. They were trying to get the shiny stone.

Was she a jewel thief?

No, Humbuggle, the dwarf guy, probably actually a demon, kept going on about a contest. Okay, she, her brother, and Ronodin were all in a contest for the shiny rock. So was the gold guy, who was also a dragon? He seemed perfectly human to her, if ridiculously loud. Maybe he was part of a gang called ‘the dragons’? But she did know that dragons could take human form.

Why did she know that? When did she learn it? She was sure of the information, like she was sure that the sky was blue, even if she hadn’t seen the sky since her memory was wiped. She also knew that knowledge about dragons wasn’t common information. But she couldn’t imagine herself reading that information, or seeing it happen, or someone telling it to her. She just knew.

What did she know about amnesia? Two main kinds: can’t recall the past, and can’t make new memories in the future. She had the first kind, thank goodness, a single reset. Ronodin, Seth, Celebrant, and Humbuggle all seemed to accept that she had given up her memories voluntarily, and it was an enchantment. They came in at different times and didn’t seem to like each other, so all of them agreeing on something probably meant it was true.

It had only been her and Seth, after she gave up her memory, so she had probably done it so that her brother wouldn’t have to. At least she was a good sister, whoever else she had been.

Kendra’s teeth started to chatter, the cold coming despite her blankets. They all seemed to agree on her name, so that was also probably true.

The cold was sinking in now, brushing her skin, her bones.

She had to get somewhere warmer, or she’d die before she figured out what was going on. Kendra poked her head out of the cocoon she had made, eyeing the door. It was a heavy black thing, with spiraling designs. Black and red seemed to be the motif of this place. She was wrapped in crimson sheets, there was a desk with a picture of an island hanging above it. A vanity. A door that opened to a bathroom, a closed closet. No windows.

Overall, just as unfamiliar as the bedroom in the castle that Humbuggle sent her to. She hoped this wasn’t her real home, she had a major heating problem.

The big black door creaked open, and Kendra tightened her grip on her blankets.

“Love, you’re awake,” Ronodin said, eyes softening as he saw her. Blue sconces lit up the room, turning the light colder as he walked in.

“You keep calling me that, but my brother said I was in love with your cousin and not to trust you,” Kendra said.

Ronodin sighed, looking down, “It’s a long story. I’ll explain it to you now that we have time. Can I at least help you get warmed up?”

Kendra glared suspiciously, forcing her teeth to keep from chattering.

“All I’m going to do is put this necklace on you,” he said, picking up the necklace she had tossed aside when she woke up. It was a ruby pendant, set in silver. “Its magic, it will help you with the unnatural cold. Then you can stay wrapped up, I’ll sit at the desk, and answer all your questions.” His voice was pleading, “Please let me help you first.”

It was cold enough that she wasn’t going anywhere. The worst that could happen was the pendant was cursed, but if he wasn’t telling the truth about it warming her, she’d freeze to death anyway. She knew she could remove it at least.

“Fine,” she huffed, and her breath condensed in front of her face.

Ronodin looked relieved, and she immediately felt bad. Seth had said that Ronodin was lying, and she was in love with his cousin. That meant they still had a relationship, in both versions of the story. It probably hurt him to have her treat him like a stranger, no matter who was telling the truth.

Because Kendra was swaddled in the middle of the circle bed, Ronodin had to kneel on the bed to put it on her. He did every action slowly, trying not to scare her. As the necklace settled, his fingers barely brushed her collar bone in a way that was somehow extremely intimate.

It made her shiver, and when she stopped, she realized it was indeed from the touch, because she wasn’t cold anymore. He scooted off the bed and took the chair, just like he promised. She let the blankets around her relax a bit. The necklace left her perfectly comfortable either way.

“Where do you want to start, Darling?” Ronodin asked. “You trust the word of your brother; do you remember him?”

Kendra shook her head. “No, but the four of you disliked each other back there. You were in competition, that means that if you four agreed on something, it was most likely true. I was alone with him, and he tried to protect me, so I was on the same side as my brother. All of you called me his sister, and you all agreed that I gave up my memory voluntarily. I hope that’s something I would do for my brother, so those two facts check out.”

“You really are clever,” he said, propping his elbow on the desk and staring at her, “You have always been modest about it, but I bet no one else would have been able to pull together so many things in the minutes after loosing their memory completely. What else do you know, so I know where to start?”

“Not much,” she admitted with a blush, “We were part of a competition. I’m under an enchantment that is blocking my memory. I probably have a boyfriend. Celebrant doesn’t like me. Humbuggle is annoying and rigged the contest. The only real prize was amnesia. We freed a bunch of people that were cursed inside the castle. And I have some kind of magic sight. Oh, and I was taken from wherever Humbuggle sent me by this scary puppet thing, and got knocked out along the way.” Wait, that was right. The storm, her brother shouting, being carried, getting knocked out somewhere along the way.

Ending up here.

Kendra narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Ronodin.

Ronodin sighed, “Not a lot to work with, but a good base of things I don’t have to convince you about. First thing you should know is that you begged to come here. No kidnapping involved.”

Kendra raised her eyebrow, “Really now, cause that felt a whole lot like kidnapping.”

“You didn’t count on your own amnesia when you wrote the plan,” he said drily, “but you wanted it to look like a kidnapping.”

“That’s convenient for a kidnapper to say.”

“I can prove it,” he said with a smile. His dark tousled hair fell into his eyes as he leaned forward with a grin.

“Let’s see it then,” she challenged folding her arms.

“The puppet’s name is Mendigo. He only follows your orders. You told him to bring you right to this room, through a magic barrel you hid for exactly this plan. Say his name, he’ll come when you call.”

“Mendigo?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. Wood jangled beside her bed, making her jump away. Her hand jumped to her chest, trying to calm her heart. The puppet had been standing in the room, beside the head of her bed. She hadn’t looked there. Or maybe she had thought it was just a coat rack in the dim light, she hadn’t gotten a good look at it during the kidnapping either. The puppet was facing her, a smile painted onto its block head. It was held together with golden hooks, and was much creepier than anything else she had seen so far. Including the turning-to-ashes bit with the stone.

Ronodin started laughing.

“I’m sorry, but you should have seen your face!”

“Not funny,” she huffed, folding her arms.

“It was a little funny,” Ronodin said, “He only obeys you, he’s protected you, and he makes you jump when he moves. Tell him to do something simple.”

“Mendigo, go, um, close the door.” The puppet did exactly what she said.

“Now I’m going to tell him to come back,” Ronodin said, “Watch. Mendigo? Pull Kendra’s hair.”

Kendra glared at him, but the puppet didn’t move. It was a bit too easy. What if the puppet was really under Ronodin’s orders, and he told the puppet to only obey her for this demonstration? The puppet couldn’t exactly vouch for himself. She had to figure out what control Ronodin had over it, and she had to do it before they went any farther. It was the difference between sure kidnapper and maybe boyfriend.

“Mendigo, choke Ronodin.”

The puppet surged forward, catching Ronodin in a headlock. He started gasping, and Mendigo pulled tighter.

“Stop!” she yelled, hands up, “Mendigo stop! Let him go.” Ronodin collapsed, missing the chair and slumping to the floor. She scrambled to the edge of the bed to see him cough in a lungful of air.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”

He rubbed his throat, “I did not expect that from you,” he said, voice raspy, “Hell, that hurt.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

He nodded, “It wasn’t deadly, so I’ll live. I’m just glad you didn’t test your control by asking him to snap my neck. Believe me yet that you’re the only one who controls him?”

She nodded, face red over her stupid test. “I really am sorry. I thought for sure you were the one he was taking orders from.”

He sat back in the desk chair, but she didn’t put herself back in her blankets, clearly he was telling the truth. And he was kind of at her mercy with Mendigo at her control. No real reason to be defensive.

He started chuckling, “I’m sorry,” he said, still rubbing his throat, “But that was so much more extreme a command than I was expecting.” His dark eyes turned appreciative, “I love it when you’re fierce.”

There was far too much in those words, that gaze, and she didn’t understand exactly what it implied, but it made her flush.

“How did I end up with a creepy magical puppet under my command?” she asked, looking at Mendigo to avoid his gaze.

“I believe you got it off a witch you defeated when you were thirteen,” he said. She had been trying to ignore it, but it needed to be acknowledged that Ronodin was hot. Dark hair, pale skin, chiseled features. Piercing black eyes with folded eyelids common to those of Asian descent. Korean, if she had to guess. He dressed in a dark robe with vibrant embroidery around the collar and sleeves, and wore it with confidence. His voice was ridiculously easy to listen to, even after being strangled. Actually, his voice added a little, gruff edge to it, the little imperfection improving it.

If she was going to keep her wits and figure out who she was and where her memories were, she could not afford to be dazzled by him.

“Right,” she said, blushing, “And how did I defeat a witch? Magic eyes?”

“Innocence,” he said, “That has real power in our world, and when you were thirteen, you kept all the rules, didn’t hurt anyone, and the witch couldn’t touch you. You asked for help from the Fairy Queen, and your innocence made her grant it, for the first time in hundreds of years. She made you something called Fairy Kind.”

“And Fairy Kind have magic eyes?” she scoffed. “You do realize how ridiculous this sounds.”

“Hmm, that knowledge must be too specific to you, you can’t retrieve it around the block,” Ronodin said, looking her up and down, “You don’t really have magic eyes. At least, no more magic than mine. You can see the light of fairy magic. It’s never really dark for you, because you’re always emitting your own light, wherever you go. But it’s actually really bright for down here, you’re kind of blinding me. Can you turn it down?”

“Oh, uh,” Kendra blushed, “I don’t know how.”

“Something else you’re going to have to relearn,” Ronodin sighed, “Okay. For the sake of my eyes, I’m going to teach you how to dim it like you used to. Ready?”

“Uh, okay,” Kendra said.

“You have this light, and you can only see it reflecting off everything else,” Ronodin explained, “That’s the normal state. But it’s awfully annoying for anyone trying to talk to you, and can make it hard for you to sleep. Imagine you’re holding a candle. The candle is the power inside of you.”

“I don’t know what the power inside me feels like,” she said. “I don’t feel powerful.”

“It’s part of your essence, of who you are,” he explained gently, “It’s not connected to memory, but the things about you that memories can never change. I’m going to turn off the lights, so you can see if its working. It’s okay, this is how we did it the first time.”

“Okay,” she said. He made the blue flames in the sconces vanish, but the room didn’t really dim. She tried to feel for her ‘essence’, but that was really hard when she didn’t know what that looked like. Was she a warm person? An angry and combative person? Did she like music? Which ones?

“You’re spiraling,” Ronodin said, “You don’t have to think about what you don’t know, focus on what you do. Focus on the feelings in your heart. You are kind, you gave up your memories for your brother. You take charge, like you did when telling off a dismissive Celebrant and bringing yourself here. Focus on where your strength came from in those situations, what takes over when there’s nothing else you can give. You have nothing else to give right now, what is guiding you?”

Kendra focused inward, and she thought she felt it. Who she was, the core of herself, it felt warm and bright inside her chest, behind her heart. She wouldn’t have ever found it if someone hadn’t told her to look, but she felt herself there.

“I think I have it.”

“Okay, imagine you’re holding that core of yourself in your hand. It’s a candle, burning, giving off light and energy.”

She did as he asked, and nodded when she thought she had it several minutes later.

“You’re going to pull that close, and cover it with your hand. Not putting it out, just dimming it. Fingers blocking the light, like you would a candle.”

Kendra blinked, ��You want me to dim my soul?”

He shook his head, “It’s not your soul, it’s the expression of your magic entwined with your essence. And you’re just covering it up a little to make things more bearable. You’re taking your heart from your sleeve and putting it back in your chest for a little while.”

The room slowly dimmed as she worked through the imagery. It didn’t become completely dark, but it went from a dimly lit room to a room with a small nightlight.

“Is this better? I don’t think I can make it any dimmer,” Kendra said, brow creased

“Wonderful,” he said. And with her dimmer light, she could barely make out the white of his teeth.

“How do you know all this?”

He relit the sconces with his own magic. And he looked different in the blue light that didn’t mix with her own. More…glacial.

“Kendra, I’m your fiancé. I know this because I taught you this before.”

#Forgotten Light #chapter three: staged #Kendra Sorenson #Dragonwatch #Fablehaven #don't kill me #Ronodin is right #this method will be more effective with Kendra #Because teenage girls are like that with romance and I'm not going to pretend otherwise

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Beth” Daryl Dixon x Beth Greene w/ Unrequited!F!Reader

Request: anonymous: can i please please request a heather by conan gray song fic where reader is jealous of what daryl and beth had ( basically daryl x reader but onesided 💔👄💔 ) omg pure damn angst that'd be immaculate 😭😭 thank u very much 💔💔

Word Count: 3540

Warning: Unrequited Love

Song I Wrote To: “Heather” by Conan Gray

Note: I hate to say that I know exactly how our reader felt and man does it fucking suck to feel that way. thank you for the request. NOTE: I see Beth and daryl as platonic soulmates, not romantic.

----------

I still remember third of December

Me in your sweater, you said it looked better

On me, than it did you, only if you knew

How much I liked you, but I watch your eyes

It hadn’t rained in days and you were almost out of water.

Since saving Beth from the Grady ordeal and discovering Noah’s home was gone, it was a mix of emotions within the group. After Terminus, there hadn’t been much hope on the horizon. Rescuing Beth had brought some light into your family’s eyes, but there was still the question of what happened next.

The prison was gone and you had lost people, but you had found each other again and that was better than nothing. Walking alongside Glenn and Maggie, your eyes were on the duo in front of you.

Daryl and Beth.

You didn’t know what had exactly happened between the two of them after the prison fell, but whatever it was had changed them. Two very unlikely people were now attached at the hip every moment of every day. Daryl never had Beth out of his sight if he could help it. The only time he did was when Beth was with her sister.

Daryl Dixon was the one that always made sense to you. You had met him the day he had walked into the camp with Merle. He tended to keep his distance from everyone else, but eventually, you had gotten him to talk to you and it didn’t take long for your feelings to form.

There had been small moments between the two of you that you thought had meant something. The slightest of glances, his hand on your arm when he needed your attention, or even when he had found you alone in the CDC and checked in.

It wasn’t until you were safe on the farm and Andrea had nearly killed him that you realized the feelings you had were more than a simple crush, you were falling for him and you were falling hard.

As she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

At the prison, you became his partner for all the supply runs. You were quick on your feet and didn’t care too much for small talk so he preferred to hunt with you. You hadn’t noticed that he and Beth were getting closer at all. The prison had offered Beth a boyfriend, though he didn’t last long and died on a supply run with Daryl.

When the prison had fallen, you had been with Maggie, Sasha, and Bob. The four of your had traveled down rickety roads searching for Glenn and the others. When you had encountered Terminus, you weren’t sure if you were going to get out of there alive. There had been too many variables and you were still missing people.

She's got you mesmerized

While I die

That is until Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Carl had entered the train car and you had immediately grabbed Daryl into a hug. His arms had been hesitant at first but then hugged you back, burying his head in your hair. When he had pulled back and spotted Maggie, his face had fallen and he had told her what happened.

Beth had been taken.

The reunion was short-lived as Gareth and his people dragged Rick, Daryl, Bob, and Glenn from the train car. Both you and Maggie had yelled as the men you loved were torn from your grips. Sasha had to hold you back, keeping her arms locked around your torso as you fought against her.

Everything after that was a blur and then the next thing you knew, there was an explosion and you and the rest of your family began to fight back. It wasn’t until Abraham had taken your hand and dragged you into the woods that you were finally reunited with Daryl and the others.

Still reeling from almost being dinner for cannibals, everyone tried to remain calm, but there was still one more thing you and the others had to do: Get Beth back.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

But you like her better

Wish I were Heather

Daryl wouldn’t stop talking about her. He couldn’t believe he had lost her at the funeral home. He thought he was protecting her when he told her to run, but then she had been taken anyways. Daryl told Maggie that he had screamed for her sister, running after the car that snatched her, but they never slowed and they never stopped.

“Beth is strong and she’ll survive anything these assholes throw at her,” you had told him, trying to offer comfort after you had found the church. Daryl had been sitting alone on watch when you had found him. You could tell he was becoming restless and that it was only a matter of time before he went after her. What he said next had confirmed your theory.

“She is strong,” Daryl had agreed, “but she can’t do this alone. Someone’s gotta go get her.” After that, you knew there was no stopping him.

It wasn’t long after that when Daryl had left to go after the people who had taken the young Greene. You had informed the others of what had happened and Rick had ordered everyone to stay put. Daryl, and Carol, who had joined him, were more than capable of getting Beth and Rick knew that if they needed you, you would be there to help.

The entire exchange at Grady felt as if it didn’t even happen. One moment Daryl had come back saying that Carol had been taken as well, and then suddenly you were all on your way into the city to go after your people. Rick had you and Sasha act as snipers on the overpasses to get good vantage points for the initial meeting.

From watching him through your scope, you could see how restless Daryl was getting. If Rick hadn’t of been by his side, you were almost sure that he would have gone into the hospital alone to get her back and probably would have killed them both in the process.

You soon realized that Dawn Lerner was no different from the other threats you and the others had faced. She was proud and naïve at the same time. The woman believed that she was helping people, saving them for when help arrived. However, everyone knew the truth, nobody was coming. Nobody was ever coming.

Watch as she stands with her holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder

You had joined Rick and Daryl in the exchange, keeping your weapon ready in your hands. Carol was brought forward first and then Beth. As soon as she rejoined the group, Rick had pulled her behind him and Daryl stood in front of both of them, creating a shield. Beth stayed close and placed her hand on his back lightly, making sure he knew she was there.

When Dawn had asked for Noah, Beth had walked forward with determination, trying to make the woman see reason, but the former officer wasn’t backing down. Nobody saw the pair of scissors in Beth’s hand until it was too late.

The younger Greene plunged her weapon into Dawn’s chest just as the latter pulled her gun. You flinched, waiting for the gunshot, but the pistol had jammed. Beth stared at the barrel pointed at her head in shock. Just before Dawn could try to explain, Noah pulled Beth back and Daryl pulled his own gun, shooting Dawn in the head without a second thought.

Everyone, including yourself, had then raised their weapons, but the other members of Grady had surrendered, not wanting any more people to die. Rick had then ordered everyone out and back down to the others. You helped Carol stand and she leaned on you as you walked from the hospital.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel

But then again, kinda wish she were dead

Ahead of you, Daryl had Beth pressed into his side, his arm firmly around her. Beth’s arms clutched at the vest on his back as if she were afraid he would slip away from her again. You were glad that she was okay, but you couldn’t ignore the pang in your heart as you watched the man you loved hold another. The heartbreak only continued after that as your group headed back out onto the road.

------

Coming back to the present, you hadn’t realized that a Walker had begun stumbling after you or that Maggie and Glenn had stepped away to talk amongst themselves. The rest of the group was a few paces ahead of you, unaware of the lurking Dead behind them. Turning slowly, you pulled your knife, trying to stay on your feet. You were exhausted and at this point all you wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but that was no longer a luxury in the new world.

The Walker gnashed its teeth at you as you waited for it to catch up. When it was on you, you lazily shoved its arms off of you. The smell of rot made your eyes water as it tried to bite you. Its crumbling fingers tangled in your jacket as you raised your arm and plunged the blade into its eye socket. The creatures dropped to the ground with a heavy thud that finally got the attention of your group.

“(Y/N)?” Carl called. You waved off the concern in his voice and sheathed your blade, turning away from the corpse. You caught up with the others, trying to keep both of your eyes open. As you walked alongside Tara, you felt a hand on your arm. Looking to your left, you saw Beth looking at you with a furrowed brow.

As she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than a blue sky

She's got you mesmerized

While I die

“You okay?” she asked. Daryl was right next to her, his hand in hers as always.

“Yeah, Beth,” you assured her. “I’m just tired.” She nodded in understanding. Everyone was tired, everyone was hungry, and nobody knew what was going to happen next. Beth looked like she wanted to say something else, but you just gave her a small smile and went to catch up with Rick who was walking with his children, Judith tucked under his chin, and Carl dragging his feet next to his dad. “Need a break?” you asked, gesturing to the little one.

“I got her,” Rick said, “but thanks.” You nodded and continued to walk alongside your leader in silence. Rick was watching you out of the corner of his eye, easily reading your body language. Whether you were aware or not, he could see what Daryl couldn’t and that was the fact that every second you watched him with Beth felt like a dagger to your heart.

“We should find a spot to stop for the night,” you suggested, your eyes scanning the road ahead.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Rick said with a sigh and then glanced over his shoulder. “Daryl,” he called and the archer let go of Beth for a moment to jog up to Rick’s side. “Why don’t you and (Y/N) go scout ahead in the woods, see if you can find a place to set up camp for the night.” Daryl was hesitant at first, but then nodded.

“Alright,” he said and then looked back at Beth, “I’ll be right back,” he called and she nodded with a small smile. He then turned back to you, gripping his bow tighter, “come on.”

------

You followed after Daryl in silence. Since knowing the hunter, you learned how to move with him through the woods. On the farm, Daryl had taken you under his wing and taught you how to walk without making a sound and how to spot things that were out of the ordinary. You were the only person he trusted to go sneaking through the woods with and that meant a lot to you.

The two of you walked for a little while longer before he slowed down and began walking beside you, instead of in front. “You’ve been quiet girl,” he observed. You just shrugged, not really wanting to get into it right now. “(Y/N),” Daryl said, knocking your shoulder with his.

“I’m just sick of wandering,” you explained. “At least the last few times we have been on the road, we had a vague idea of where we were going or at least trying to go.”

“I know ya didn’t like being back in the city,” he said quietly. You shrugged again.

“Not like I was going to stay behind,” you told him. “Beth and Carol needed us.” Daryl nodded.

“Thanks for helpin’ to get them back,” he said, looking over at you, and you nearly melted under his gaze.

“What else is family for, right?” Daryl gave you a small smile and then nodded.

You continued on through the woods until you found a small enough clearing that would work well for the night. You volunteered to stay behind and start getting the camp ready while Daryl ran back to bring the others. You needed to be alone with your thoughts.

As soon as Daryl disappeared back through the trees, you began gathering firewood. The whole time, you watched for Walkers, but the Dead stayed away for the moment. You tried to focus on your task, but every time you had a second, you thought of him. Your hands went into your hair and tugged as if you could pull the thoughts out by force.

You didn’t want to feel like this.

You had experienced unrequited love before, but never to this extent. Daryl Dixon had consumed you and no amount of “moving on” was going to fix it.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty…

The others arrived quickly and you all worked together to get the camp set up for the night. Rick, Abraham, and Michonne set up Walker traps while Carol and Glenn fixed something for dinner from what Daryl was able to catch in the nearby trees.

Once everyone had eaten, you had stepped away and placed yourself on a boulder, watching over the group, a rifle in your lap. Your eyes couldn’t stop wandering to Beth and Daryl as they sank into their own bubble.

She was never far from his side by the fire. Since Grady, she had slept by his side, walked in his shadow, and they even took watch together when they had the chance. You also knew that while Beth and Daryl may have been oblivious of their newfound relationship, everyone else in the group had noticed.

Daryl joked around with Beth, carried her on his back when she was tired, and he had even begun training her with his bow, something you had always wanted to do. Jealously rushed through you at the sight of his hands on her shoulders and under her arm, helping her balance the weapon.

Any time she would make a perfect shot at a nearby tree, he would smile at her with pride in his eyes. Those eyes never left her if they could help it and you didn’t blame him because you were the same way when it came to him. He cared about her and while it may have been a different way than how you felt about him, it didn’t feel much better.

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

Watching as Daryl wrapped his leather jacket around Beth’s shoulder, you gripped the barrel of your gun tighter. A movement to your left had you turning to see Maggie approaching you. She hopped up on the boulder and gave you a small smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked and you knew what she was referring too. Maggie Greene or rather, Rhee, was as observant as they came.

“I’m good,” you told her, turning your attention to the wall of trees that was before you.

“I know how you feel about him,” Maggie whispered and you closed your eyes at her words. She reached over and took your hand. “I saw it the first night on the farm, the way you look at him. I even thought that the two of you were together before Andrea mentioned that you weren’t.” You sighed.

“Maggie…” you began as you looked at her, your eyes begging for her to drop the subject.

“I could talk to Beth,” she offered, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no, please,” you said, glancing over at the two survivors cuddled up by the fire. “He and her...that’s fate. You know Daryl, he’s not the romantic type, but Beth is the closest thing to a soulmate he’s got. Platonic and all. Besides, look at her. She’s an Angel.”

But you like her better

I wish I were Heather

------

Later that night, Glenn had joined you on watch.

You knew that you should get some sleep, but too many thoughts ran through your mind and you couldn’t quiet them down enough to sleep. Glenn didn’t say anything, but he knew. You knew that Maggie had told him, but you also knew that he wouldn’t offer his opinion, at least not when anyone could hear him. Still, he slung an arm around your shoulder and you leaned into him, feeling the warm embrace of your friend.

Eventually, you had to get up. After Glenn had gone to sleep next to his wife, Rosita tagged you out for watch and you slid off the boulder, stretching your arms above your head. As you walked back to the rest of the group, you ran into Daryl.

“Ya alright?” he asked, concern furrowing his brow.

“How many more times are you gonna ask me that?” you asked, crossing your arms. “I’m the same since the last time you asked.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Something has been off with you since Grady, maybe even before that.” All you wanted to do was scream at him. You wanted to grab him by that damn vest of his, tell him you loved him, and kiss him until the sun came up and that fantasy alone was enough to make you turn away from him.

“I’m tired of losing people, Daryl,” you admitted and you didn’t think he caught your double meaning, but it was the truth. You had lost him even though he was never yours, to begin with.

“I get that,” he said, “but you never know who you’ll find, ya know?” he said glancing over at Beth who lay curled up near her sister and brother-in-law. You followed his gaze and then your eyes landed on Rick who was looking at you with sadness in his eyes. You looked away quickly, trying not to let the tears back in. “What is it?” Daryl asked, noting your shift in demeanor.

“Nothin’, I’m gonna do a perimeter check,” you informed him.

“Alone?”

“Yeah, alone,” you said before turning and walking away, fighting the tears with every step.

Wish I were Heather

(Oh, oh)

Wish I were Heather

--------

It didn’t take long for you to crumble.

Falling to your knees, you rested on the forest floor, your back against a tree as you cried. You knew you needed to be quiet, but you couldn’t stop the tears that choked you. He would never look at you the way he looked at her and you had to accept that, but it didn’t mean that it still didn’t hurt like hell. You pressed your face into your arms as you cried, trying to muffle the sound.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

When your sobs had calmed, you stared out into the darkness with bleary and red eyes. A flashlight beam caught your eye as Rick approached you, his boots crunching the dead leaves that scattered the ground. He didn’t say anything as he joined you on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to walk off,” you explained, but he waved you off. It was another moment of silence before he finally spoke.

“I know that look,” Rick said. “The others, they may not see it, but I do. I know what it looks like to want someone you can’t have,” he said. You kept your gaze forward as he spoke. “Shane had the same look when it came to Lori. Hell, he loved her and I knew it and so did she. So, I know (Y/N).”

Nodding, you wiped at the tears on your chin and took a deep breath. “I want to hate her,” you whispered.

“But you can’t,” he said and you shook your head.

“I could never,” you admitted. “Not her. She’s not even doing anything.” The tears came again and this time Rick pulled you against him and you sobbed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing his hand down your back. “It’s okay.”

A part of you believed him. It was going to be okay. The end of the world had happened, but it didn’t mean that you had lost everything. Daryl had found his person and while you would always love him, there was a point in time when you just had to let go.

And so, you did.

But you like her better

Wish I were...

TAGS: @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner@felicisimor @amaroho

#daryl dixon x beth greene #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #beth lives #reader insert #unrequited romance #twd imagine #Heather #song fic #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #walkerwords

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