#sincerely a girl who forgot that the void stares back

[sirenstare]

having between 0-2 notes on anything you personally post and then the very minute you post a photo of yourself being messaged by 3 porn blogs (not bots, blogs) (even though it’s not rly nsfw or tagged as such) is disorienting. my silly digital archive with a handful of decade old mutuals instantly gains that kind of algorithmic attention? the porn ban must have really starved you little freaks, huh?

[lovclyboncs]

Everything I Wanted (Todoroki x Reader) Soulmate Au

inspired by Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish.

TW! Mentions of contemplated suicide and insecure thought that could be triggering.

soulmate Au! Where your soulmate tattoo appears on your wrist after you touch your soulmate for the first time.

F!reader x Todoroki

F!reader x Bakugou (brotp)

Plot: the reader is Todoroki’s soulmate, but he doesn’t want to let some mystical ink on his wrist dictate who he should love, so he rejects reader as his soulmate. This story is about how reader first reacted to the rejection and how slowly reader lets herself heal, but what the universe wants it will get.

Part two out now!

This is my very first post on here! I hope you guys enjoy!

I had a dream I got everything I wanted Not what you’d think And if I’m bein’ honest It might’ve been a nightmare To anyone who might care

Every night you’d wake up drenched in sweat, panting as you tried to calm your breathing, tears staining your rosy cheeks. Every night you had the same nightmare, you wished it was just your mind overthinking, but sadly it wasn’t. Even in your dreams you’d replay that memory in your head over and over again.

“ I’m sorry (y/l/n), but even if your name is tattooed on my wrist and even if fate says we are meant to be together, I can’t return your feelings. My heart belongs to another. I’m truly sorry if I’m not what you expected as a soulmate.” He told you with nothing but sincerity in his voice. The sad and hurtful truth. 

“I-It’s okay. I understand Todoroki-san. Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine” You said holding in the need to cry, and the need to let the crawling feeling in your throat free, to scream and yell how once again this world was nothing but cruel. 

He gave a slight nod of his head before walking away from you. His other half as written by the universe and written on your left wrist.

You looked down at the floor clenching your fists and look up once again to see him standing with the rest of the A-1 class who was chatting as they waited for class to resume. A lone tear raced down your face.

“I’ll be fine” You whispered to yourself.

‘I have to be’ you thought.

As a young girl all you ever did was fantasize about your soulmate. You thought it would  be a dream come true for you when you would finally get to meet them. You would get your happily ever after like in those princess tales you’d love to read before going to bed. You thought you’d have the perfect white picket fence life to look forward to. 

As a young foolish girl you thought life would be easy.

you didn’t know your parents were going to sacrifice their lives to save others.

you didn't know that you weren’t quirkless and that your parents had been using ‘vitamins’ to suppress your quirk because of how dangerous it was when your emotions went haywire.

you didn't know that it wouldn’t get better contrary to what your therapist would tell you.

you didn’t know that you weren’t going to make as many friends as you had hoped you would.

and what hurt the most was that you didn’t know your soulmate wasn’t going to be your knight in shining armor like you had hoped. 

Thought I could fly (fly) So I stepped off the Golden, mm Nobody cried (cried, cried, cried, cried) Nobody even noticed I saw them standing right there Kinda thought they might care (might care, might care) 

It had been a month since Todoroki rejected you as his soulmate. You thought you could've gotten over it  but as always it seemed like the universe wanted to punish you for just existing. You didn’t participate in class anymore, You made sure to cover your soulmate tattoo so that no one would accidentally look at it, you didn’t tare your gaze from the floor, you thought that  it wouldn't hurt as much if you didn't have to look at him, but then the rumors started spreading and then the rumors weren't so much of a rumor. 

“ Todoroki and Momo made it official!”

“ I knew they were soulmates, I mean just look at how perfect they look together.”

“ Did you see the picture Momo posted of their soulmate tattoos? I'm so jealous!”

It was all too much for you, so you ran and you ran until you found yourself on the rooftop of U.A. and you let the tears you were holding in fall. 

You let the monster crawling at your throat free, letting yourself scream, letting yourself voice the hurt you had been bottling up.

why weren't you good enough for anyone?

not good enough for your parents to live for, they would rather die for others than to live for you. 

not good enough for your classmates, they barley talked to you or invited you to places like they did with each other. 

not good enough for your soulmate to want you. hell he’d rather cover you up than let people know fate had chosen you for him, were you so disgusting that you weren't even worth mentioning as the soulmate he rejected?

“stop” you whispered to your thoughts.

“ please just stop” your voice sounded hoarse.

“I just wanted everything to stop. To end” you said louder to no one, because no one was there, because no one cared. 

you slowly walked towards the edge of the roof and looked down at the ground.

your eyes were void of anything, they looked empty.

shakily you put one foot out into the nothingness, into the only thing that could stop you from letting the pain overwhelm you. you closed your eyes ready to fly.

‘This world is so cruel and yet so beautiful’ you thought before letting your eyes snap open and gasping.

your eyes regained a light and tears began to swell once again, you let yourself fall backwards away from the edge of the building.

Yes the world was cruel and life wasn't fair, but it was also beautiful. there was still so much you wanted to experience, still so much that would be worthwhile. 

after sitting on the floor for what felt like hours, you heard the distance sound of the bell signaling the end of lunch. you slowly picked yourself of the ground and cleaned your tears with the sleeve of your uniform jacket. 

you made your way back to class 1-A. you were the last one to walk in, and some of your classmates glanced up at you, but they didn’t say anything about your puffy red eyes, they didn’t ask why you weren’t at lunch, they didn’t ask how your day was going so far, they didn’t ask if you were okay. 

because you were not okay.

you once again felt a heaviness in your chest. 

you thought they would care at least a bit, they were heroes in training after all, yet it seemed like they hadn’t even noticed.

they hadn’t even noticed your absence and maybe they didn’t mind it in the slightest. 

I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see You with me

Maybe you were too wrapped up in your own mind or maybe you finally lost it, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out how you ended up like this. Eating spicy noodles quietly with your class’ very own lord explosion murder sitting across from you.

If you were to ask Bakugou why he demanded you have lunch with him, he’d say it was because your dumbass face was the only one he could stand enough to willingly share his homemade noodles with, and if you were to ask him why he was sharing noodles in the first place, he would tell you to shut the hell up and just eat without questioning him.

What Bakugou would never admit is that when he was roaming the school grounds during lunch two weeks ago he saw you standing at the very edge. He stood frozen in place, not sure of what he could do, but before he could will himself to move he saw how you feel backwards and out of his sight. He knew why he froze because he remembered a comment he made to deku before they entered U.A. He obviously didn’t mean it, but seeing you so willingly to just dive of a building made something in him feel guilt for making such an insensitive comment even if it was to deku.

He really didn’t know you well. He knew that he had never actually seen your quirk in action though probably more than half of the class could relate to that since you never really used it. He knew pretty much that he didn’t know you at all and that unsettled him. Sure he wasn’t the most sociable guy or easiest to approach, but he at least knew a couple of things about each of his classmates friends.

So he decided to pay more attention to you, he noticed how you really didn’t talk to any of your classmates and how they wouldn’t try to include you in their conversations. He noticed you always walked with your head down not really looking at where you were going. He noticed the bags under your eyes making themselves more prominent. He noticed how sometimes when you would space out in class you’d be staring at the back of the class where the half and half bastard would sit. He became aware of your being but he still didn’t know how to approach you.

The opportunity came after an awkward encounter.

Everyone (or so you thought) had gone out to who knows where and like always you hadn’t been invited. You decided to train for a little while. You had been slowly progressing with being able to control your quirk, but after your conversation with Todoroki you were back at square one. Your emotions were a train wreck making it hard to control your quirk. Becoming frustrated with yourself you decided to call it a day but since you were sweaty you went to take a shower first. You forgot to take your clothes with you, and since you were by yourself in the dorms you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal if you ran to your room. Midway there you bumped into a wall that wasn’t there this morning. You looked up and there was Bakugou looking down at you.

‘Oh shit I’m going to die’ you thought but then you saw Bakugou frown as he looked directly at your uncovered wrist.

‘Shouto Todoroki’ Bakugou narrowed his eyes. He finally understood why you had been acting more closed off than usual, and maybe if you had looked a little harder you wouldve seen the understanding in them.

“Sor-” you began to say but he cut you off

“get dressed and meet me in the kitchen” he said before walking away.

After that day things changed for you. Who knew eating noodles in silence with an angry blonde could set you on your path to healing?

Every time you saw them holding hands you didn't have enough time to let yourself question what you could have done for that to be you.

“hey dumbass hurry up or I’ll kill you” the red eye blonde would yell at you once he noticed you lagging behind. Making you forget about the black ink on your wrist and making you worry about how bakugou was going to react to you getting a C- on the test he spent a whole afternoon helping you study for.

And you say, “As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you Don’t wanna lie here, but you can learn to If I could change the way that you see yourself You wouldn’t wonder why you’re here, they don’t deserve you”

It was close to the end of the school year and if you were to say that much hadn’t changed you’d be lying. 

thanks to practing your quirk with bakugou and him suggesting meditation to help you stay calm you were finally able to control your quirk enough to use it without fear around others.

Through him you also became friends with the rest of the bakusquad and they helped you warm up to the others.

all the second guessing and the comparing yourself to others didn’t cross your mind often anymore. 

unbeknownst to you every time you peeled off the layers of insecuirty that held you back from expressing yourself bakugou would smile glad that you,just like him, could get passed the pain left by an unrequited soulmate bond.

also unbeknownst to you, as you began getting along with the rest of the class and opening up, he couldn’t help but be captivated by some of your quirks. How you would help the likes of denki study even when you weren’t better off yourself, how you were the only one who entertained Midoriya’s rambling and even added comentary.

He began to get to know you and he could see how the universe could’ve blessed him with a soulmate such as yourself. you were the complete opposite of what he was used to, the todoroki home wasn’t exactly the most affectionate.

He was seeing you bloom right before his eyes and all he could feel was guilt as he diverted his eyes to look at his left wrist.

‘Momo Yaoyorozu’

He softly caressed his thumb over the name and even with his soft touch the fake dark ink smuged.

He thought he had what he wanted.

He thought the universe had been wrong. 

He thought it was for the best.

but as he saw you bickering with bakugou he found himself wondering what he could’ve done for that to be him, for you to be open with him like that.

he knew he was wrong but he was too far in to fix it.

If I knew it all then would I do it again? Would I do it again?

lastly Todoroki knew that even if you found it in yourself to forgive him, he still wouldn’t deserve you. 

Thank you so much for reading this far if you did! I don’t know why I couldn’t get this out of my head and so here it is. Also I threw in an AOT reference to cope with the pain.

[moostaronce]

Sisterly Love

Request: Hello! Can I request a cute, fluff scenario where fem reader is Yoohyeon's younger sister and is dating Jiu? Yooh is known to be fun so it surprised Jiu a little when she got all serious to have "the talk". Then fem reader comes in and saves Jiu, asking Yoohyeon not to scare her or something. I hope that made sense lol thank you!

Pairing: Jiu x Fem!Reader

A/N Thank you for the request! I made it a college!au because it felt fitting to me and I used their actual Korean ages as well. I hope you like it. 💛

It's late when Yoohyeon walks past your room and hears you giggling on the phone. The two of you live together and attend the same university so you figured it would be smart to stay together. Though, she's never heard you sound this excited on the phone.

"Minji stop, you're making me embarrassed." Your voice is playful through the door and your sister can't help but take notice of the name. Minji. She knows a Minji. They aren't the closest but definitely friendly classmates. She couldn't help but wonder why you knew her at all. Even then, why you were speaking informally, knowing full well that the older girl was 4 years your senior. Sure, her own girlfriend was the same age as Minji but Yoohyeon still used honorifics with her most of the time. She shoves her suspicions down and wanders off to her own room but she can't help but wonder what's going on with you two.

The next morning your older sister wouldn't stop staring holes through you. Your body shifts uncomfortably as you work up the nerve to speak first.

"Um Unnie, is there something you need?" Yoohyeon looks at you blankly.

"Yes, but I'd like it if you told me first."

You're put off by your sister's demeanor. Yoohyeon was never this serious with you even when she probably should be. Her eyes are void of any of her usual playful emotions and you find yourself wracking your brain from anything you may need to tell her but you just can't think of anything. She must be able to see your confusion because she sighs in annoyance before she finally huffs out a response.

"Are you seeing Kim Minji sunbaenim behind my back?" You look at her like she has twelve heads.

"Yes Yooh, I told you that 3 weeks ago when we got together."

Yoohyeon's face grows so red you can't help but cackle at her. Of course, now she remembers, you mentioned it while she was spacing out but she pretended to hear everything. She feels so silly but tries to recover quickly.

"Oh. So you did. Well, I want you to invite her for dinner tonight. I'd like to get to know her better outside of our literature class."

"For sure unnie! I'll text her right after breakfast." You kiss on her cheek and head out to your first class of the day. She rests her head in her hands, still embarrassed that she forgot something so important to her.

---------------------

Later that day during Yoohyeon's afternoon class, she walks in to see none other than Kim Minji in her usual spot in front of Yoohyeon. She observes the older girl and hums at how pretty she is, mentally giving her younger sister props. Right now it's just the two of them in the room waiting for everyone else so Yoohyeon takes the opportunity

"Sunbae!" Minji looks up at the girl she's always known to be rather carefree.

"Oh, Yoohyeon-ah. Y/N told me you invited me for dinner tonight, I'm excited to finally spend some time with both of you." Yoohyeon's smile grows even brighter at her words before she remembers a question she had.

"Ah! Before I forget, why is it that Y/N just calls you Minji? You don't find that rude?"

"Oh no, I told her to drop the honorifics whenever she feels like it, though that's only really when we're on the phone most of the time she calls me Unnie. Which reminds me, please call feel free to call me that instead of sunbae. I'd like for us to be closer." Minji's infectious smile almost blinds Yoohyeon with its brightness.

Yoohyeon nods at her and smiles before taking her seat as the rest of the class arrives. It's clear to her that Minji's personality is pretty much a perfect match to your ideal type. She's sure that if you had to draw your perfect person even before meeting Minji, you still would've drawn her in detail. That doesn't stop the protective cloud that takes over her mind. She can't help the feeling of needing to know Minji's long-term intentions, especially because your relationship is so new.

------------------------ Yoohyeon convinces her girlfriend Bora to make the dinner with the promise of pretty much an at-home double date. It also helps that Bora is Minji's best friend so there would be a sense of comfort for everyone.

When Minji arrives at the door Yoohyeon lets you answer it while she peeks from around the corner. She watches Minji take your hands and lean in to kiss you so she loudly enters the room before your lips can meet.

"Minji unnie! I'm so glad you could join us! Bora unnie is just putting the finishing touches on dinner so I hope you're hungry."

Contrary to your scrunched-up annoyed face, Minji looks up and gives Yoohyeon a warm smile before nodding her head in excitement.

"Oh! Let me go see if she needs anything." You wait until Minji is completely out of the room before speaking up in a hushed tone

"Unnie, please be nice. I really like her." It's practically a whine to Yoohyeon's ears but she just pats your shoulder with a reassuring smile.

"Look, I love you but if you think I'm going to make this easy for you, you're mistaken kiddo."

"We're only one year apart!"

"Exactly one more year I've been alive than you." Yoohyeon sticks her tongue out at you before dodging your swatting hand and running into the kitchen where Bora would hopefully keep her safe.

Once the food is finished you all sit at the dinner table. You joke and laugh together so much you can't help but be proud of how well Yoohyeon and your girlfriend seem to be getting along. Yoohyeon herself is surprised how much she likes Minji as a person but also how much she likes her for you. But the nagging never leaves her mind so she decides to go forward with her plans to talk to her one on one.

With that in mind, when dinner is over Minji offers to do the dishes since Bora cooked. Yoohyeon takes the opportunity to help her while you and Bora go talk in the living room.

"Dinner was wonderful, thanks so much for inviting me Yoohyeon. I appreciate you giving me a chance." Minji smiles at her but it falters slightly when she sees the serious look on the younger girl's face.

"Yeah. About that, we need to talk." Yoohyeon's voice is steady and oddly nerve-wracking, compared to her usual playfulness. Minji's voice struggles to escape so she just nods.

"Look I can see you're a good person. But I need you to know that Y/N is important to me, so if you're serious about her I need to know right now," she takes a breath and Minji holds hers as she waits for her turn to respond. "She's my little sister and she can be fragile sometimes. Sometimes she can be a bit of a whiny brat but I love her for it. So if you are just playing with her emotions I suggest you seriously rethink it because if there's one thing I don't play around with, it's my baby sister."

Minji gulps and gives her a nervous smile, but before she can speak you enter the room with your arms crossed and tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you look admiringly at your older sister.

"Yoohyeon unnie, leave Minji alone. I appreciate your concern but she's not that kind of person, I swear!" Yoohyeon laughs nervously at being caught by you.

"No, it's okay Y/N. She's your big sister and she's just looking out for you." Minji turns to Yoohyeon and puts her hands on the younger girl's shoulders.

"Yoohyeon, I understand everything you said. I want you to know that I am serious about Y/N and I'd never betray either of your trust by playing around with her emotions. I see her and me together for a really long time and I hope that you could honor me with your blessing."

Yoohyeon looks into her eyes and she's met with nothing but sincerity so she looks to you and nods. Minji releases her shoulders with a sigh of relief and she takes a step back when you rush her with a big hug. Yoohyeon decides to go sit with Bora but on her way out of the kitchen, she's hit with a back hug from who she can only assume to be you.

"Thank you for what you said. You're the most important to me too. I love you Unnie."

Yoohyeon pats your hands and turns to give you a proper hug and kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too, stupid."

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH65

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 65: The Queen’s Inheritance (IV)

Amid the dragon’s roar, the temple of cult ceremony began to collapse, but this did not stop the battle between the dragon and the monster. The two creatures in their full forms fought in this temple, and the devastating dragon breath burned around the altar, while the monster’s tentacles clung to the body of the dragon, making it impossible to bite off its tentacles.

The monster summoned by the blood of nearly 100 people couldn't fight Ning Zhou who hadn't shown his magic dragon form yet. However, after the irradiation of that strange eyeball, the monster had evolved strangely, and it had gained the power of the Devil of Power from the empty void, which made it stronger, scarier, and more cruel than before!

Like the magic dragon, it had surpassed the half-field level. Compared to Ning Zhou, who was still suppressing his own strength and avoiding being swallowed up by the origin of destruction, the irrational monster was much more terrible. It indulged itself unscrupulously, as if it were the evil in the world itself.

In the frenzied battle, no one noticed that Qi Leren, unconscious in a pool of blood, was fighting against the bewitching influence.

"Through the evil and filthy world, your soul will reach Utopia.

"There will be no more troubles and disappointments, and your life will be immersed in endless happiness and well-being.

"Demons forget the bloodthirst and desire to kill, human beings forget selfishness and greed, and all life is treated equally in Utopia.

"There will be no more death, because the soul is immortal, and you will have eternal life.

"You will also see your love, in that immortal paradise..."

Qi Leren suddenly woke up.

His body was still numb, but his consciousness woke up.

It seemed to be a whisper or a talking voice, which was still ringing and droning like a set program, but he was awake from the trance-like state.

He had suddenly thought of his lover, who wouldn't be there—a carefree Utopia.

He would only be in hell.

If he hadn’t couldn’t see him and bring him with him, he would have stay here forever, and accept all the torture in the world like self-punishment, until the dead lake water rose over his head. He won't even struggle, just sinks to the bottom quietly.

Qi Leren woke up because he couldn't let Ning Zhou go.

Being paralyzed, he couldn't move, and it was difficult to breathe deeply. Qi Leren choked back the stiff pain, slowly moved his heavy iron hand to his chest, and slowly clenched the item [Prophet's Heart] given to him by the Prophet.

[Prophet’s Heart: A god-level item hand-made by the noble and great Prophet that can make you feel the pleasure of turning into a bird. Holders can summon an archangel to come and fight on their behalf for 3 minutes with a cooling time of 24 hours.]

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster has been heated up, and the eyeball suspended in the air had continuously strengthened the monster’s power, making it quickly recover its damaged limbs, while the magic dragon has gradually liberated his own strength, and had become increasingly violent and crazy dominated by force of destruction. Under the imposing manner of the Destroyer, even such a horrible monster cannot take the upper hand.

The passerby—the initiator of this chaos—had stepped back a little, and retreated to a safe distance.

At this moment, he should be glad he hadn't gotten involved. The strength of this monster itself was about a half-field, and he could cope with it and experience a pleasant battle. However, when the strange eyeball of the master with an unknown field level had begun to interfere with the ceremony, the monster was itself strengthened to a level close to the field level.

Hmm..... Which Devil King was it?

Having entered the Nightmare Game little more than two months ago, the passerby who was confused about the power system and loyalty factions here scratched his hair and prepared to leave after watching the drama.

Although challenging a master made him happy, and he was willing to pay for it with his life, when he came to this world, he found that it was not an end wall but an amazing new world before him. He rekindled the enthusiasm of picking up the tangdao for the first time and couldn't wait to join the new world.

But not now.

The passerby reluctantly glanced at the chaotic scene and left the chaos behind.

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster became more and more fierce, and the temple became a huge colosseum. Under the duel between two monsters like ancient giants, it was as fragile as a sand castle on the beach. The force of destruction flooded Ning Zhou's reason, and the origin’s sin burning in the blood was imprinted in his soul. He suddenly forgot himself, but was immersed in the power of absolute purity and absolute terror. Until...

The twilit light of Heaven appeared in this sinful ceremony.

Qi Leren, who struggled to hold the Prophet's Heart, took a deep breath and activated the item.

In an instant, the power of the Village of Dusk’s holder ran through the boundless space and pierced the blockade of one and a half fields, falling from the sky, dispelling the bewitching power in Qi Leren's mind, and making him wake instantly.

At the same time, the pure power washed away his consciousness. He flew lightly, and his white wings slowly stretched behind him. Behind him was the Kingdom of Heaven reflected in the dusk, flowers, rites and music, angels… Everything was so holy and beautiful and desirable.

In this pure beauty, the demagogic Utopia seemed to be exposed to strong light, revealing its inner ferocious horror. It had never been a pure land on earth, but a world dominated by the Lord of Power. Walking into Utopia was like walking into a hell under high pressure. All of the self was stripped away, leaving only the dead bodies of human beings and demons, and the instructions of the Lord of Power were uniformly executed.

Under the holy light, the gloomy and evil atmosphere in the temple in the lake faded. What was even more amazing was that the dead bodies all over the ground turned into the soil and flowers under the magic of time, and white flowers blossomed from the blood, swaying in the Kingdom of Heaven at dusk like a dream.

The meat monster let out a piercing howl, black blood erupted from its eyes, and the black dragon took this opportunity to maintain its momentum. The flames of destruction erupted from his mouth, burning the struggling monster to ashes.

"...Prophet, what are you doing here again?" In the Village of Dawn, the Lord of Power felt the abnormality in the ceremony and sighed faintly. With her sigh, the huge eyeball suspended over the ceremony, watching everything, slowly rotated and made a sound.

The holy angel who smiled in the clean white flowers stared at her: "Little girl, your hand stretched too far."

The voice was the voice of Qi Leren, but the speaker was not him, but the Prophet in the underground ice palace in the Village of Dusk. Through Qi Leren's body, he warned the Devil of Power who was observing here and tried to intervene.

"Has it? I don't think so. But since you’ve spoken to me in person, let's call it a day. I have another thing left with you, and I will ask for it when I have time." From the huge eyeball, a buzzing inhuman sound echoed in this building.

"I'm waiting for you," said the holy angel.

The eyeball in the void disappeared, and the consciousness attached to Qi Leren left. Before leaving, he said one sentence to him: "The Illusionist is in the Dragon Ant Queen’s royal palace, and my letter is on the way, so I’ll ask this of you and Ning Zhou."

The Prophet's consciousness dissipated, and Qi Leren was still standing on the ground, with white flowers under his feet. The mechanical clock behind him had not finished three turns, so this power that did not belong to him had not disappeared.

He looked up at the magic dragon standing on the altar, and the magic dragon also stared at him. There was no dried blood on his body and claws, no evidence of his fight against evil and his downfall.

There was a lonely longing in the dragon’s eyes, and it was like a gentle sadness.

Ning Zhou understood his own destiny. Just like every powerful person, the process of becoming stronger was the process of constantly moving closer to his own original force. One day, he would forget himself, his love, how much he loved the world, and indulge himself and destroy everything under the influence of this original force.

No matter how hard he tried to restrain himself and convince himself to persist for the person he loves, he couldn’t deceive his own strength. When he had fought with the monster, he had clearly felt that he was falling. This kind of degradation was a kind of pleasure, and he didn't need to make any effort. As long as he emptied his brain, the strength in his blood would emerge continuously, making him stronger and destroying his enemies.

But when the pool of blood turned into a sea of flowers, and his lover stood in front of him in the form of an angel and looked at him, he felt sincere shame and fear for his weak compromise to strength.

He was afraid that one day he would hurt Qi Leren and the world.

"Ning Zhou." Qi Leren went up the stairs and came to the dragon.

Compared to the huge body of the dragon, he was like a pocket-sized toy. If the dragon's foot even patted him gently, he would be crushed into a pile of meat. This size gap even scared Qi Leren, but he still wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt him, insisting that the black dragon in front of him is still Ning Zhou.

The dragon closed its eyes, lowered its head slowly, and put it in front of him.

Just like it did in the lake of fire in Purgatory.

It was willing to bow to its beloved and let him comfort its body and soul with his hands.

"It's all right, it's all right..." Qi Leren murmured. The power borrowed from the Prophet had expired, the reflection of Heaven disappeared, his wings disappeared, and so did the intoxicating power. But his calming power still affected the dragon.

So the dragon gradually calmed down, and the force of destruction receded from his body, and he changed from magic dragon to human.

Qi Leren took his hand and looked at him, but his blue eyes that had always been firm avoided his sight.

This was an obviously weak and hesitant attitude, and Qi Leren certainly knew what it’s cause was. Because Ning Zhou had gotten stuck in that dead end again, the dead end that he almost killed himself because of.

He still couldn't accept a self who was a Devil, and was constantly sinking. Even if he was just doing justice as a Devil, it still caused him pain. Because at the end of this road to power, he was destined to become lost like every powerful person.

This was not something that the human will could contend with.

Qi Leren's heart was full of love that he didn’t know how to express, so he stood on tiptoe and left a comforting kiss on Ning Zhou's lips, tender and touching.

He was willing to burn himself with all his strength, as long as he could make Ning Zhou on the edge of hell feel the warmth of the world.

"I once told you, but now I have to say it again: your force has nothing to do with good and evil, and you have never fallen." Qi Leren clasped Ning Zhou's hand and repeated this sentence again.

Ning Zhou slowly rested his forehead against Qi Leren’s, relaxed his stiff body, and closed his eyes.

He wanted to hold this person tight, because this was his last salvation in the world.

-----

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[nochuvalencia]

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? - pjm

⚠️‼️This drabble is short AND LATE AND SLOPPY. So there may be mistakes or wtv. AND THE SMUT ISNT HOT STEAMY SEX LIKE USUAL, ITS SUPER AWKWARD‼️⚠️

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: jimin x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: When mending a broken friendship, the dark past always comes back to mind, no matter how much one wishes to forget it.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: smut, angst

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 3.3k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: THE STORY TAKES PLACE WHILE THE READER AND JIMIN ARE IN HIGH SCHOOL, car seggs, unprotected sex, creampie, reader doesn’t orgasm💀, jim finishes super fast, the smut isn’t really for the readers enjoyment because it plays into the plot, virgin!jimin, reader is SUCH a y/n, Jimin is whiny asf, super short bc drabble.

“Remember prom night?”

You stared surprised over at Jimin through the blonde fringe that covered his cute almond shaped eyes as he uttered the sentence you had least expected him to which sent your mind spiraling down the tornado of memories which swirled inside it. He mentioned it, the night you both had wordlessly agreed never to bring up, he actually did it. After three fucking years of moving past it, he tugged it up into the present to invade your mind again. You froze in your seated position on his couch, staring over at the slightly younger male who sat before you, your eyes wide with concern as you set the glass full of wine that was perched in your hand down onto the cream colored coffee table beside you. You and him, your best friend of seven long years, had been sitting comfortably on his sofa reminiscing about past memories over a freshly opened/almost finished bottle of merlot when he chose to do the unthinkable. He brought up the night he silently promised never to talk about again. The night you carelessly robbed him of his innocent pride and stomped on his fragile teenage heart. The night you basically used him then discarded the event like yesterday's paper. The night you finally stopped thinking about a year ago but he never forgot. You stammered, looking down into your lap on which your hands wiggled away nervously like worms. Your mind went blank in an instant, being filled with absolutely nothing but the memory of the night you regret with your conscience .

It was the 30th of May in 2015. Prom night for you and it was already an absolute shitshow. You were crying hysterically into your palms as you sat in the passenger's seat of Jimin’s old 2003 Ford explorer. A crumpled corsage sat in your lap as you wept, black and gold stained tears falling onto the expensive fabric draped over your legs, but you didn’t care. You were heartbroken. Jimin sat awkwardly in the seat beside you debating whether or not he should comfort you because it rarely worked out well for him but against his better judgement, he laid a small, warm hand on your shoulder comfortingly, his eyes widening in surprise when you didn’t immediately try to swing on him.

In high school, you weren’t really one for emotion which is why many questioned your friendship with Jimin because he wore his heart on his sleeve 24/7. No, scratch that, the boy wore his heart on his face like a bullseye. The two of you could not be more different, but you were absolutely inseparable. Everyone at school thought you were a couple but became completely alarmed when you wound up dating the school's hottest linebacker, Kim Namjoon in your Junior year. You remained with Namjoon for almost a year until the night of your senior prom when he dumped you during the slow dance right after he revealed he had been cheating on you with a college girl, which led you to your current predicament. Jimin hated to see you sad, it upset him more than anything in the world so he was already on the verge of tears at the mere sight of you crying, which you quickly noticed after you peered up to be met with his wide tear filled eyes.

“Jimin are you about to cry?” you croaked out, wiping your eyes with the backs of your arms and looking over at him. The corners of your lips twitched up as he nodded, wiping his own eyes with the sleeves of his navy blue tux and sniffling.

“Aw you’re so cute.” you sobbed out happily as more tears poured down your face although, these were happy tears. Laughter filled the small space of the car as he removed his hand from your shoulder, using it to rub his eye and conceal the blush forming on his plump cheeks which you had already noticed. It was no secret Jimin had the fattest crush on you. Everyone knew. He couldn’t hide the loving way he stared at you or the blush that spread on his face when you complimented, or the cute stutter he developed when you teased him. It was adorable and you could admit that he was very cute, but you couldn’t reciprocate any feelings for him. You liked to tell yourself it was because he was a Junior and you were a Senior and the age gap sorta threw you off, but that wasn’t the real reason. In all truth, you yourself didn’t even know the real reason why you couldn’t like him back. You just didn’t feel that way about him. However, you felt bad for leading him on and dragging him along in your never ending friendship but he wouldn’t go away, no matter how mean you were to him. Not that you wanted him to, but you hated to see him sad. Like when guys called you hot and you didn’t push them away, or when you kissed Namjoon in front of him and he was visibly upset, or when you said ‘just kidding’ after every flirty remark or comment shot at him, but he didn’t care. He really just loved basking in the warmth of your presence, and you made him feel less alone in a world of bigger, better kids. He felt secure around you and it was okay if you didn’t feel the same about him.

“I just hate seeing you so unhappy.” his words struck you where it hurt and you stared at him blankly, your mind running rampant with thoughts.

Jimin was the best, he did so much for you. He was the purest, kindest, most gentle soul you had ever met and even though you let him down constantly, he remained by your side and there you were, sitting by a boy who was crying just at the sight of your distress. You didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve his generosity, his affection, his friendship, but he gave it all to you anyway, expecting absolutely nothing in return. How did you ever become friends with such an amazing soul. He was an angel. He stared back at you after he finished wiping the tears from his soft porcelain face, his brows raising in confusion at your hypnotized expression as he muttered, “what?” a wide smile spreading on his face. He was so precious. He deserved everything he ever wanted. You wanted to give him the world, but you couldn’t, so you gave him the next best thing and leaned in.

Your lips melded together as his eyes shut, immediately relishing in the feeling of the thing he’d been craving the most for the past three years and it was just as he’d imagined it, absolute heaven. The kiss was a bit rushed if he’d admit but it was more than what he wanted. After a few moments, he opened his eyes softly, just quietly observing the smeared gold shadow on your closed eyelids and the relaxed look on your face. He was loving every moment of what you were giving him and he never wanted it to end, but it had to. It was too good to be true, especially for him. You were thanking him, thanking him for all the things he’s done for you. Thanking him for all his kindness and friendship and he never meant to make you feel like you owed him anything, and you were heartbroken. Your soul was a fresh wound and he knew this was a rebound, a way to fill the newly opened void in your soul which was everything he swore he wouldn’t be. At that moment, he reluctantly took hold of your face in his hands, pulling you back and staring into your watery eyes as he shook his head.

“No, ____, it’s okay you don’t owe me an-.” he started and you cut him off, smashing your lips frantically back onto his as he released a frustrated groan into your mouth. As he moved his hands down to your shoulders, successfully pushing you away once more and staring sternly at your desperate expression as he continued speaking, stammering a bit after the intensity of that last kiss. “Anything, you don’t owe me anything o-okay, and I- I don-” he ran a hand through his ruffled blonde hair with a sigh, stress obviously evident in his features before you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Jimin, I want to.” you replied, your voice basically a whisper as you stared sincerely at his frazzled frame, a weary smile making its way onto your lips. He was at total war with himself while you squirmed tirelessly in the seat beside him, flinging your shoes off and reaching over to undo his belt. He stared down at your hands with wide eyes as he muttered cautionary phrases, as if trying to convince himself he didn’t want this, which he really did. Jimin was a virgin. The biggest fucking virgin you had ever seen, like he blushed at the sight of a hotdog once. He had fantasized about you taking his virginity, obviously not like this, but he was content with what he was getting, even if he was trying to convince himself that he was not. You dipped your hand into the waistband of his pants and freed his embarrassingly hard dick as he continued to stare at your actions, his breathing picking up in pace and his eyes still wide like saucers. You climbed over the seat as you pushed the poofy fabric of your gold dress to the side and mounted his lap, his member still in hand. He stared up at you wistfully as soft but audible groans fell from his lips, his eyes widening when you glided his tip up and down your accumulating warmth, completely coating it in your slippery juices. That’s when his panic set in. He wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything you weren’t comfortable with even as you sat on top of his lap quite comfortably.

“____, you don’t owe me anything, I m- I mean if you really want to like I’m totally fine but don’t feel like you have to please I don’t want you to do something you’re not comf- f- fuck.” his voice trailed off as you sunk down on top of him and to your surprise, he whined, letting his forehead fall gently onto your left shoulder. You moaned softly as you sunk down onto him, feeling him stretch you out quite nicer than you’d expected while you snake an arm around his neck for support. All logical thoughts vacated Jimin’s head at that moment as you were wrapped around him, your warmth putting him in a trance he couldn’t quite explain as the two of you sat still, breathing heavily and warming up the small space of the, now warm, car. You decided to move your hips, gyrating them forward while he moaned into your neck, his hands traveling wearily to the small of your back as if scared to roam anywhere else in fear of ruining the friendship even further that the two of you already have. His eyes roll into the back of his head at the newfound euphoric feeling which is all too familiar to you as you are no virgin, quite the opposite actually. His salacious sounds of pleasure spur you on even more as you slowly gyrate your hips into his, your clit brushing his base with every movement but you don’t care whether you feel anything or not because this is for him, not for you, right? You heard his moaning increase in frequency, then you remembered he was a virgin and he couldn’t possibly last this long. His hips began to weakly press up into yours as his breathing became shaky and his head fell back onto the headrest behind him and you finally made eye contact. He was so pretty, his face shone with sweat, plush pillow lips parted, his skin glowed pink. And he made the most salacious, beautiful sounds you had ever heard. You loved how vocal he was.

“____, I- I’m gonna…” he trailed off as his words morphed into a symphony of moans while he stared deeply into your eyes.

“Jimin no, hold it baby. Please not yet.” You shook your head, convincing him to hold it off and slowing the motion of your hips just a bit as he continued thrusting up into you slowly, his hips pausing frequently while he began to tremble softly. He shook his head as his eyebrows furrowed and the pleasure began to completely overtake his body.

“I can’t.” he cried out as he let out a string of loud whines and moans, his orgasm overtaking him completely while his white ropes paint your insides repeatedly. You moan at the feeling and intensity of his orgasm before resting your head on his shoulder tiredly. After a few moments of relaxation, you dismount him, a bit disappointed you didn’t get to cum but happy you made him happy as you stare over at his exhausted frame. His eyes are shut, head tilted back, and lips parted as he breathes heavily through them and you think to yourself. ‘I just used this perfect angel for my own benefit. To rid myself of the shame of being such a sucky friend.’ You used a boy who loves you unconditionally, a boy who would do absolutely anything for you to alleviate your own insecurity. Shame fills every single one of your senses. The guilt runs rampant throughout your body as you sit in silence and stare down at your hands. You overthink more than the overthinker that you think overthinks the most as you fight back the urge to cry. You soiled him, took his innocence, and you didn’t even have the guts to love him back before you did it. It was then you decided, he deserved so much better than you. He deserved someone that was going to treat him like the angel he was. Not you.

For a moment, Jimin thinks things will be different. For a hot minute, he really believes with his entire heart that things will change for the better, that he’s going to open his eyes and you would profess your reciprocation of his undying love for you and he grins as he finally opens his eyes. He smiled tiredly toward you before taking note of your weary expression. It was shame, regret, fear, written all over your face that brought a frown to his own as he realized, you didn’t want him and never would. He was usually okay with that fact but it hit him even harder that night as he stared out of the window and through the trees that blocked his view of civilization. He longed to have you as a lover but knew he would never be able to, but to lose you as a friend as well would bring upon a pain akin to breaking every bone in his body simultaneously. He just couldn’t do it. So he brushed his feelings aside for you for what seemed like the millionth time as he cleared his throat, still staring straight ahead. He couldn’t bear to look at you yet, at least not without bursting into tears and he figured you felt the same as your eyes remained trained to your hands in your lap.

“W-we don’t have to talk about it if you want.” he spoke after what seemed like a millennia of silence, his voice meek and broken. He saw you nod out of the corner of his eyes as the awkward tension in the atmosphere only grew thicker. He didn’t want things to be like this with you and he wished with his entire being that he could undo what just happened if he could have his old ____ back again. “So-” he began as if to start a conversation to alleviate the weird aura but was cut off by your voice. You almost cried at the thought of him trying to mask his pain to make you feel comfortable. You of all people, and you couldn’t watch him do that to himself.

“Can you just take me home Jimin?” you asked, your voice surprisingly normal as he nodded while the car rattled to life. The ride home was silent as the two of you sat, subtly facing away from each other. Not even a goodbye was said once you had reached your house. Well, Jimin tried to say goodbye but you had already jumped out of the car by the time he turned his head to send you off. He just frowned, scrunching his nose and driving off. Unbeknownst to the other, you both cried yourselves to sleep that night at the daunting thought of losing your best friend over a mutual careless mistake.

He didn’t want to leave you, no matter how hurt he felt because he knew, you had just been left by someone else and he wouldn’t do that to you, but you would do that to him. For months after that day, you sent him not one text, never called, never visited over the summer, even after you started your first year of college and left him behind for his senior year. Nothing. But he knew to give you your space, to let you come to him when you were ready, and you did. You texted him a quick ‘congrats’ after he graduated which quickly spurred into a long conversation which turned into an eight hour phone call of just catching up which turned into meeting up with him a few times after he started his first semester of college at the university beside you which turned into a friendship that picked up like it never left off. So that led you here, sitting in Jimin’s living room staring at him as you still have yet to answer his question that echoes in your head. ‘Remember prom night?’ a question so lighthearted in diction yet weighed so heavily on your mind for those silent for minutes of memory. But sadly, as much as you wish it weren’t the truth, you do remember prom night and you finally nod.

“Yeah” you breathed, finally answering his question as you both gazed longingly into eachothers eyes, the unasked and unanswered questions and reasons floating in the air around you while you sat in silence. His wide brown eyes are full of curiosity and hope that you would finally answer the unsaid question that had been plaguing his mind ‘did it ever mean anything?’ but you just couldn’t. The answer sat on the tip of your tongue that was firmly pressed to the roof of your mouth, but you didn’t have the courage to articulate them, not yet. You just stared back, hoping the pleading glint in his eyes would fade and all the remorse would finally leave your body but it didn’t, he still stared. You used him, his body, his mind, his love, his entire being. You used it all for your pleasure, unbeknownst to you at the time because for some twisted reason you thought blatantly playing with his emotions would in turn benefit him. You couldn’t explain why it happened, you could barely say it to yourself, so you remained silent for as long as you could bear before finally deciding to say something. Anything. You opened your mouth, fighting back the tsunami of bottled up feelings that threatened to fly out at any given moment before simply stating.

“Of course I remember, why’d you ask?”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Sense of normality

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, allusion to kidnapping and nonconsensual drug use.

Words: 1588.

Summary: It wasn't safe out there for a woman like you, and it would never be.

____________

Bucky didn't get to feel like a hero often.

Of course, he had saved the world along with the Avengers and was still fighting together with Sam for the sake of humanity, but it just wasn't the same. It felt like he was repaying a debt he owed to the world.

He owed nothing to you, the girl who ran onto him on a street at night and pleaded to help. There was a man chasing you, Bucky saw him. Judging by the way he moved and the abnormal expression he wore, it was easy to guess he was under some drugs.

"Wait inside." Bucky said, pressing his intercom key to the panel and opening the door to the hallway.

You got there immediately, but looked at him with deep concern in your eyes. In your mind you were leaving some man you didn't even know to deal with an ax-crazy who was after you. You didn't know who Bucky was, what he was capable of. Were you worried about him? Maybe you were. Bucky thought it was odd.

It didn't take him long before the man was there, throwing punches at him and acting like an enraged bull. When among other things Bucky kicked him in the ass, it rang a bell - he had certainly done it before, though he couldn't remember when or where. It felt strangely satisfying.

Then he stopped, looking at the unconscious body laying on the ground near row of dirty trash bins. He was supposed to give a call to let someone know about it, and he did. 911 could handle this man from now on.

You couldn't see much from the angle the glass door could give you, but when you spotted Bucky coming back he saw relief washing over you. You were happy he returned. It was very, very odd.

"Are you okay?" You asked right away once he opened the door and stepped inside. "Did he hurt you?"

"No."

He watched how you trembled like a leaf. You probably had some nervous disease, but he didn't know much about that. Bucky didn't know much about any diseases at all since he could have none after Zola worked on him.  Did he had to call the ambulance? You didn't look good with your face puffy from tears, eyes all red.

"Thank you so, so much." You said, smiling through tears at him. "You just saved my life. Thank you. Thank you."

Although you were still crying, the way you looked at him made him feel better. There was so much appreciation written on your face. You kept saying lots of words of thanks, and Bucky suddenly felt like a savior. It wasn't like no one had thanked him before, but never like that. Never so sincere. Desperate, even.

He motioned you to come to his apartment because Bucky wanted you to keep looking at him like that. Besides, you were still trembling. Where would you go like that in the middle of the night? It wasn't wise, he thought.

"Oh no, I forgot my handbag there." You mumbled, pressing your hand to your forehead. "My phone, my wallet."

"Where?" Bucky cocked his head to the side.

"In that goddamn club where this guy and his friends were." It brought you to tears, and Bucky reached for the napkin box.

"I will call there."

There it was. That look on your face as if you saw a halo of light surrounding his figure. Bucky liked that. He liked that very much.

He took his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen, trying to remeber what the pattern he had to use. Sam was telling him something about Google maps.

It turned out to be quite easy except the fact that his huge fingers didn't press the write buttons all the time. How did people get used to type so fast? Well, maybe he had to buy a different phone, a bigger one. His was too little.

"... yes. She think she might have forgotten it on the bar counter. There are her wallet, cellphone and set of keys."

You were lucky the security had found your belongings quickly. It seemed like nothing was stolen.

"Can she pick them up tomorrow? Yes. Thank you."

He saw the surprised look on your face. You thought you were going to go, but he didn't want you leaving his apartment just now. He wanted to feel like a hero a little bit more.

"You said his friends were still there. It's not safe to go now." He explained calmly and saw the realization hit you. Then you wiped the tears away again, saying you didn't even have the money to get a taxi to take you home. You didn't live close, and walking to the other side of the city at night seemed like a horrible option. You were hopeless.

Bucky took you to the kitchen and took out a box of tea Sam brought him a month ago - it was huge, a dozen of different tea bags inside. Going throw them, he took out a camomile one. He remembered his mother saying something about it calming people down. You seemed like you needed it.

"You can stay here for the night." He said, pushing a big white cup with hot tea closer to you. Then he filled his own, thinking you might feel odd drinking all by yourself. Having a little company was nice.

You gawked at him with your mouth open but took the cup, nonetheless. You just couldn't believe someone was so nice to you, he thought. People wasn't often nice to him either, so Bucky could understand your hesitation.

"It's not safe out there." He said, looking at the window hidden behind the curtains. "Those guys are probably looking for his friend. If they caught a glimpse of you in a taxi, they might remember its license plate and find out where you live. If you walk by yourself, it will be even worse."

It sounded logical to him. You thought so too, probably, as you started shaking again and he had to reach out to touch your hand.

"Don't worry. They don't know you're here."

You nodded, swallowing your tears and gulping down the tea.

"I'm so sorry for all the trouble. I don't want to impose, truly." You muttered, keeping your head low and staring into the cup. Bucky thought your hair looked pretty in the dim light of the room.

"It's okay. It's not your fault." He said and made a sip of his tea.

He didn't remember when was the last time someone had tea with him in the kitchen. Sometimes he went with Sam to some bars together to have a couple of beers, but it didn't feel the same. Having a woman in his apartment was just as odd. Wanda came to help him settle in for a few times, and once Natasha visited him, too, but no other woman had ever been here. No other woman looked at him like he was a hero to her.

"I will sleep on the couch." He said and pointed to the fridge. "You can have whatever is there."

"Thank you, but you're too kind." You shook your head. "I've already brought you enough trouble to make you uncomfortable in your own home."

Bucky remembered the way Sam behaved when he saw a woman he liked and curled his lips a little, his face lit up when he smiled at you. Apparently, it worked as you immediately relaxed.

"It's no trouble at all. I'm glad you asked for my help." It was true. "I don't like when something like this happens."

"I still can't believe one time I got to go to the club I was chased out by some psycho." You sighed, making one more sip of the tea you seemed to like. "Guess I'm never coming out of my apartment again."

He let out a chuckle, still thinking of the way Sam would handle this conversation. Actually, he silently agreed that you shouldn't be coming to places like that nightclub. Staying home sounded like a much better option.

For some reason an image of you living with him appeared in his mind. You were wearing a short blue robe and cooking something in the kitchen while laughing at something he said. He could feel the delicious smell of food you were making for dinner. The empty shelves in the room were filled with photos, books, porcelain figurines, and other things that you deemed important to keep there. While you were busy in the kitchen, he was setting up a new wardrobe for you because all your clothes couldn't fit in his old one. He could still hear your lovely laugh when he made another joke about Sam and his issues with women.

Bucky admitted it would be nice.

"It will get better." He said, unsure whether he was talking to you or rather himself. "You don't have to worry about anything.""I'm truly sorry for everything."

"Don't be. Sometimes stuff like that just happens. It's a shame, but that's the way things are"

You nodded at his words and finished your tea, smiling a little into your cup. Bucky felt his chest getting warm for no reason and then tried to remember where he stored anesthetics - you were so nervous you would have difficulty sleeping tonight. If he really was such a good man like you imagined him to be, he ought to help you, right?

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint

[persnickety-persnackety]

Set Her Free

Title: Set Her Free Word Count: 6K Ship: Jon/Sansa Rating: T For the @jonsa-halloween Halloween Event Day 7

AN; I really don’t know what this is, but this was something I chose to write for Halloween instead of sleeping, so here it is.

It was her eyes that gave her away. She could fool everybody else with that dazzling smile of hers and those charming words that escaped her lips as easy as her breath, but as someone who liked to believe he was something of a Sansa Stark-expert, Jon only had to take one look into those azure pools to know that behind the disguise of a happy façade, the woman was drowning, and no one else seemed to realize that she was silently crying for help.

Jon hadn’t wanted to attend the dinner celebrating Sansa’s engagement to that blond twat, Harry Hardying, but he had been cursed in life to have Robb Stark as his life-long best friend, and the man was rarely ever told ‘no’ so he had a tendency of pushing back whenever he heard it, especially when it came from Jon. Granted, Robb had ignored all the signs of his best friend being in love with his sister for the past decade, so he didn’t understand why Jon would want to avoid attending the engagement dinner of his younger sister to a man he secretly loathed without even having to meet him. He had been particularly relentless in batting Jon’s excuses aside until Jon realized that the chances of him not attending were basically slim to none. The only thing he could cling onto was the hope that his heart had done the opposite of growing fonder in Sansa’s absence.

That hope was dashed the second he walked into Winterfell and saw her for the first time in over twenty-four months. Her back was turned to him, the pale skin bared by the open back of the royal purple dress she was wearing, as she entertained an older couple who were undoubtedly important friends or associates of her parents. Her scarlet tresses had been dyed blonde and had been sheared to her shoulders, but even still, Jon knew it was her. He had little doubt that he would have found her even if every light was put out and they were left in sheer darkness. It was like a part of him was pulled to her no matter where they were, just like it always had done since he was a young boy.

The smart thing to do in that situation would have been to turn right around and walk right back out the door and back to his car where he could drive as far from Winterfell as he could possibly get, but such thoughts were stopped before they could bloom by Robb’s sudden appearance at his side. His best friend was on his way to being three sheets to the wind, and even though every atom in Jon’s body was desperate to both leave and to be as close to Sansa as possible, he soon realized that babysitting Robb was going to be his primary duty throughout the night.

He didn’t even get to really see her until they all sat down for dinner, and he was blessedly, or cursedly – he was torn on how he really felt, seated directly across from her at the table. Over lemon-chicken and rosemary-roasted potatoes, his eyes had met hers for the first time, and he swore that at that moment everything in the universe went still for a heartbeat, though it felt closer to an eternity. She gave him a small smile, a bare twitch of her lips, but Jon was too lost in the dark cerulean seas of her eyes to really notice it because it was in those eyes that he found himself entranced by the dark void he found there that sucked him in, even though his body remained glued to his seat. And it was while he was immersed that he realized just how somber she looked.

His first instinct was to ask if she was all right, to ask why she was so sad, but Sansa’s attention was promptly called away by her fiancé who then made it a point to keep her focus on him throughout the rest of the dinner. The smug bastard had the audacity to shoot Jon a wink when Sansa wasn’t looking, as though he knew how Jon would have given anything to have been in his seat. It took everything in Jon not to chuck his wine glass at the smarmy ass’s head, and even then, it was only realizing that there was a chance that he would get wine on Sansa’s dress that stayed his hand in the end.

It was only after dinner, while he was speaking with Ned about the security firm he was planning on opening in Winter City, that Jon finally noticed that Sansa was finally alone for the first time that evening. He couldn’t even remember what excuse he gave Ned to abruptly end the conversation, but his surrogate father seemed to understand his urgency based on the small, knowing smile he gave Jon before stepping aside to let him get to Sansa. Jon didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, having the father of the woman he loved know of his feelings when he also knew that said daughter was engaged to another man, but as soon as he reached Sansa, such thoughts disappeared from his mind altogether as his primary focus became Sansa, and Sansa alone.

She really did look radiant in that dress that accentuated every line and complimented every curve. The fact that it showcased those never-ending legs of hers was also something he would have loved to admire more had he not been so determined to be a gentleman by keeping his eyes glued to above her neck. Yes, he missed those dark red tresses that his fingers had always itched to run through, but even as a blonde, Sansa was a vision that he would have gladly spent the rest of his life drinking in. But even in the middle of his yearning, the melancholy that emanated from her eyes was too prominent to be ignored, especially when it came from a girl who was supposed to be blissfully in love with a man she was going to marry and spend the rest of her life with.

Jon didn’t even know what he was planning on saying when he approached her. All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to just sit back in silence while watching her schmooze and entertain in the midst of her own silent suffering. A part of him was almost wary about ending her small moment of solace from the madness of the party, but even when she was by herself, that look in her eyes remained. It was like a dark stain that refused to be removed by cheer and laughter, and he couldn’t allow himself to let it go unaddressed.

He nearly forgot what he was preparing to say when he reached her and she looked up to meet his questioning gaze. The wide smile that spread across her pink-glossed lips nearly stole the breath right out from his lungs. It almost made him realize how so many people could fail to see that something was amiss because being the subject of that blinding smile almost made it hard for one to focus on anything else. She was that captivating.

“Jon! Oh, I can’t believe that the party is nearly over and this is the first time I’m actually talking to you,” she proclaimed with a hint of reprimand in her cheerful tone. “I’m so sad that we didn’t get more time to catch up, but I’m so glad that you came. It wouldn’t feel right celebrating my engagement here in Winterfell without one of the staple presences here in the North being here. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, and you look amazing! How are you?”

Even though her line of questioning was fairly standard when it came to conversations and greetings, Sansa’s sincerity was what made it feel so genuine and open. The fact that she looked like she actually cared about his answer was what made it hard for Jon to push down those yearnings that never really went away to focus on his original intent.

He gave a cursory response, forcing himself to keep things light in his summary of his life, but Sansa nodded along with her gaze fixated on him like he was the only person in the universe. Jon would never dare to presume that her interest went anywhere beyond platonic, but just the fact that she took an active interest made his chest both feel warm and ache at the same time. It also pushed him to ensure that everything was okay with her.

“That’s enough about me,” he finally said, choosing that time to turn the conversation back to her. “Tonight, after all, is supposed to be all about you. How are you, Sansa? How’s your life going?”

It was her hesitance before responding that made Jon realize that his feeling of something being off with her was correct. Any other woman, after all, would have been ready to spout off how happy and excited they were to begin their new life with their significant other at their engagement dinner, but in that moment of hesitation, that sad look in her eyes grew stronger.

Of course, being the only daughter of Catelyn Stark, Sansa was back on her game less than a second later, forcing a wide smile on her face as she blathered about Harry and his job, as well as her being knee-deep in wedding planning. Jon couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t seem to have much to say about her own personal life outside of Harry and the wedding, which he found to be a bit disconcerting. Maybe that was why she didn’t seem like her completely bubbly-self.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sansa?” he asked her after she finally finished prattling on about the house that she and Harry were looking into buying back in the Vale.

At his question, the ever-present smile on Sansa’s lips faltered and her eyebrows became screwed up in alarm. Jon almost felt like he had made a grave error in his persistent questioning, but it was the way her eyes suddenly took on a glassy look that forced him to push on.

“I’m happy that you found the perfect guy for you, Sansa,” that was actually a lie, but he didn’t necessarily want her to know that, “but I couldn’t help but notice that you seem a little… dejected? Are you sure that everything’s all right with you?”

She stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes studying his as though looking for some kind of deception or duplicity in his question, but after a moment, she seemed to be satisfied with what she saw because there was no anger or irritation on her face; in fact, Jon swore he saw a brief flash of relief in her gaze. The look became magnified as she took a step closer to him, closing the small distance between them, with her mouth open, ready to answer him – something that Jon found himself desperate to hear – but before she could say anything, Catelyn’s voice broke through the spell.

“Sansa, there you are!” the Stark matriarch called out, pulling Sansa’s gaze from his, though Jon yearned to bring it back. Catelyn shot Jon a solemn look, something that Jon was used to being on the receiving end of throughout the many years he had come and gone from Winterfell. He could just tell with that one look that she was not pleased to find that he was the reason she had not been able to find her daughter. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Harry is talking to Wyman Manderly and I don’t think that he’s making much headway with him, so you’re needed.”

Sansa nodded, but she turned to Jon with remorse etched on her face. She opened her mouth, most likely to utter some kind of apology, but Jon wasn’t in the mood the hear it.

“You’d better go. I’m actually thinking of heading out now, anyway, so I’m just glad that you and I got the chance to talk and catch up while I could,” he said, forcing his own smile onto his lips in an attempt to make her feel better about leaving him. 

It was clear that Sansa didn’t believe him, but Catelyn had grown impatient and was already pulling Sansa back into the main room where the rest of the guests were gathered together. Just before the two women re-entered the fray, Sansa shot him another look over her shoulder, and Jon, who hadn’t moved a muscle despite his previous statement that he was getting ready to leave, met her glace with a sad smile, even as he watched the hopelessness bleed back into her eyes. 

That would be the last time he saw her as a Stark because, after tonight, she would be heading back to the Vale with Harry, and based on Harry’s reaction to him, Jon highly doubted he would get an invitation to the wedding. This had been his last chance to see her as the woman he loved.

As he stood with his back physically and metaphorically against the wall, Jon couldn’t help but think of how he wished that Sansa had retained some of the fierceness she once had as a child. It was clear that Harry was a choice that Sansa made to appease her mother and her high expectations, something she had been dealing with for years as the only daughter of the legendary Catelyn Stark, but he wasn’t sure that she was truly happy with her choice. Jon just wished that she had some of the rebelliousness she had once had as a girl who once made the ever-proper Catelyn Stark want to pull her hair out. She had been the cause of a lot of problems in Winterfell, but that was the girl that he had fallen in love with, even though he hadn’t even known what the word ‘love’ really meant at the time.

When Sansa was a young girl, she had been like night to her current day as a woman. As much as she tried to be proper for her mother, there had been a mischievous, veering toward dangerous, streak in little Sansa as well. One minute she was drinking tea with her dolls, and the next she was making mud pies on Catelyn Stark’s thousand-dollar marble countertops. One second, she would be picking flowers and making crowns with them, and then the next, she was chopping Waymar Royce’s action figures into pieces with a hatchet as payback for him making fun of Bran for having to walk with braces on his legs. One moment she was an angel, and then suddenly she was doing something that would make anyone think she had been possessed by a demon. It had driven her mother crazy, but to Jon, she had been precious.

It was then that Jon remembered how a lot of the mischief that Sansa got up to throughout her childhood was attributed to her imaginary friend that she had from the moment she could talk. Arya Underfoot was her name, and it was a name that always popped up whenever Catelyn or Ned demanded to know what Sansa had been thinking after she had committed a particularly naughty act.

“Why would you cut up your mother’s sheets, Sansa?” “Arya Underfoot said that they would make the best snowflakes, Daddy. Don’t you think they look beautiful?”

“Why did you write those foul things on the wall, Sansa?” “Arya Underfoot thought that they would cheer Bran up after his surgery, and it did, Mommy! Didn’t you hear him laugh?”

Jon could remember quite a few things that “Arya Underfoot” had supposedly persuaded Sansa to do within the walls of Winterfell, but nothing her parents threatened could ever make Sansa exile her friend. Not even her friends’ ridicule for having an imaginary could sway Sansa to give up her invisible companion. Nothing worked.

Up until she was twelve-years-old, Sansa clung to Arya Underfoot like she was a piece of herself, and then on her twelfth birthday, Arya Underfoot just mysteriously disappeared from Sansa’s life. Jon’s memories were a bit fuzzy, but he swore that losing Arya Underfoot came about shortly after Sansa had pulled a prank on Ramsay Bolton at her party that had resulted in Ramsay having his hair completely singed off, which had abruptly ended the party and had left Catelyn Stark positively seething. Her angry yells could be heard everywhere in Winterfell, and nothing Ned said could calm her down. 

Sansa had seemed genuinely sorry to have upset her mother, but she wasn’t repentant when it came to what she had done to Ramsay. All she would say on the matter was that it was better that it was his hair that got burnt off and not the walls of Winterfell. That was all Jon remembered her saying right before she was sentenced to her room for the rest of the night. She wasn’t even allowed to open the presents her guests had given her.

The next time Jon saw Sansa, he noticed a change in her right away. She seemed solemn, withdrawn, and yet she also seemed eager to stay around her mother, like she needed her to fill the void that Arya Underfoot had left. Jon still didn’t know what happened that night to make Sansa give up her imaginary friend, but he couldn’t help but think that if the adult Sansa had Arya Underfoot, she wouldn’t seem so lost in her own skin.

As if that realization sparked to life something in his brain, Jon soon found his feet almost moving of their own accord away from the front door toward the stairs that led to the upstairs rooms of the giant manse. He was a bit confused as to where his feet were taking him until he found himself in front of the door that led to the room that had once belonged to Sansa. Though the guilt of invading her privacy was nearly overpowering, that newly enflamed spark of awareness in his mind propelled him forward through the door that he had been reluctant to open.

The room looked the same as it did the last time that he visited Sansa, which had been shortly after he graduated high school and was preparing to join the Watch. The white walls were still decorated with the posters of the bands she loved in high school, and the bed and furnishings appeared untouched, which made him think that she and Harry were staying in another guest room instead of staying in her room or they were staying in a hotel instead of at Winterfell. That made him feel a little less guilty as he walked further into the room and started looking around for something – something he didn’t even know he was looking for but felt that he needed to find. It was a strange feeling – one that was a bit frightening considering how strong it was in his mind despite him not even knowing where it originated from. All that thought seemed to say was that there was something Sansa needed, and it was somewhere in her old bedroom.

“This is crazy,” he muttered aloud when he found himself opening Sansa’s closet door and took note of the old clothing she had left behind. “What, in all the bleeding hells, am I doing here?”

Don’t give up, you bleeding idiot. She needs me.

Jon didn’t know where that thought came from, and the foreignness of it made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight on end. The thought definitely didn’t feel like one of his own, which meant that it had to be coming from somewhere else. It was the fact that it seemed to have seen the same thing he did in Sansa that kept him from running out of the room and straight for the front door. If it wanted to help Sansa, it couldn’t possibly be evil… right?

Even though Jon had no idea what he, or it, was looking for, he was almost certain he had found it when his fingers brushed something hard and wooden on the top shelf of Sansa’s closet. A rush of excitement slithered up his spine, though he didn’t even know why he should be excited at all. Deep down, he knew that it wasn’t his excitement he was feeling, but that something else that was inside of him, but he refused to let his mind dwell on such a thought. He focused his attention, instead, on pulling the item down into the light, where he was able to see that the object that he had found was a small square jewelry box, barely the length of his forefinger. The lid was held closed by lots and lots of silver duct tape – a freakish amount if he was being honest with himself. It was only when Jon actually got a good look at the actual jewelry box beneath the tape, that he remembered where he had last seen it: it was in Sansa’s grasp on the day of her twelfth birthday – the one where she had seemingly lost Arya Underfoot.

“Are you in there?” Jon questioned the box as his mind starting piecing together a picture that was forming in his brain, not really caring that he was possibly addressing Sansa’s long-lost imaginary friend, something he had never believed in before. But considering what he had heard inside his head, he wasn’t sure that it was completely out of the realm of probability anymore. “Are you in there, Arya Underfoot?”

There was nothing but silence in response to his question, making Jon think that he had imagined everything and he was now invading Sansa’s privacy for no other reason than his own feigned belief that she needed rescuing. He left the room hastily, careful to close the door behind him, but despite his irritable thoughts on why he had allowed himself to go to her room, he found that he still had the taped jewelry box clutched tight in his hand, though he didn’t know why he chose to keep it.

When he descended the steps, he was shocked to find Sansa standing at the foot of the staircase, staring out at something that he couldn’t yet see. It was only when he was a step above her, and his view was no longer obstructed by the banister, that Jon was able to look out and see that she was watching her fiancé mingle amongst a small group of people. The group consisted mostly of women, and all of them seemed to have taken the same path as Robb, imbibing as much drink as possible, because two of the women, whose names Jon didn’t know and didn’t really care to find out, were draping themselves over Harry like coats being flung on a coat rack. The truly infuriating part of it all, however, was the fact that the man seemed to revel in the drunken attention as he openly flirted with the soused females, not seeming to care that he was doing it in front of his own fiancée. Jon didn’t understand how Sansa could just stand back and let it happen.

“Harry’s always been a very… tactile person,” Sansa remarked sullenly, her voice giving little inflection in spite of the implication. Jon was incensed on her behalf.

“Mother says that men like Harry tend to be like that but that they stop once they get married.” She raised the full glass of arbor gold in her hand to her lips and drained the golden liquid in one go. “I  suppose she is just saying that because the wedding invitations to hers and Dad’s friends have already been sent out, and there’s no way she would ever let me bear the scandal of pulling out of this arrangement now.”

Jon scoffed; his lips turned down into a frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. If she knew that her daughter was marrying a philanderer, Catelyn would castrate him herself with her bare hands. I don’t think you’re giving your mother enough credit.”

Sansa shrugged her shoulders, a tell that she was veering toward drunkenness herself. “Harry’s a flirt, but he’s not a cheater, Jon. He wouldn’t do that to me,” she said, staring hard at the ground, proving that she didn’t really believe the things she was saying.

“Sansa –“ Jon began, ready to both reprimand and console her, but Sansa held her hand up, begging for him to stop.

“I know you may think I’m weak for saying this, but… I have to choose to see the best in Harry because he’s the best that I’m probably going to find. I just need to do a better job of hiding my insecurities toward him, is all.”

Shaking his head, Jon reached out and grabbed Sansa’s free hand, clutching it tightly in his own. “I don’t care about him, Sansa. I only care about you,” he declared firmly, squeezing her hand tightly in his own. “The only thing I want is for you to be happy, and if that asshole doesn’t do it for you, then I don’t want you to be with him anymore, let alone marrying him.”

Her eyes started to glisten as she stared first at her hand in his and then lifted her gaze to meet his own. “I wish I was brave enough to fight for happiness, Jon,” she whispered quietly, her words barely audible over the din of the other people in the room. “I’m almost certain I know where I would be able to find it.”

Jon wanted nothing more than to just lean forward and press his lips to hers, but Sansa was already pulling her hand from his as she took a step back away from him. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m made for happiness, and so that means I have to stick with the sure-thing I’ve got.”

A single tear slid from the corner of her eye, down her cheek. She wiped it away swiftly as she forced a smile back onto her lips – the disconnect from her lips and her eyes more evident than ever. She then turned and started heading back to the room.

“Sansa, wait!” Jon called out for her, running to her. He almost feared that she wouldn’t listen, but just as he reached her, she stopped, though she refused to actually look at him. So, instead, he took her hand in his instead.

“You are made for happiness, and when you’re ready to accept that, you know where you can always find me,” he declared, and with that, he slipped the taped-up jewelry box in her hand and closed her fingers over it to secure it against her palm. With it, he hoped that he gave her some of the strength he once possessed.

Sansa’s brow furrowed when she looked down at what he had given her, but Jon couldn’t bear to stay in the same room as that fake smile one minute longer. Releasing her hand, he gave her one last parting smile before turning and finally walking out of the front door, the cold Northern air cooling the tears that were already beginning to fall down his face.

 2 Weeks Later

The call came at three in the morning. Jon nearly knocked his cell phone off his nightstand in his blind attempt to shut it up, but sleep had faded enough by the time he actually grabbed a hold of it to prevent him from throwing the phone across the room. With his mind slowly leaving the semi-fogged state, he looked at the caller id to see that it was from Robb. Pressing answer, he raised the phone to his ear with a grumbled hello.

“Jon?” Robb called out, his voice filled with a frenzied panic that snapped Jon the rest of the way out of sleep’s grasp. “Gods, please tell me you’re up! It’s an emergency.”

“Wh-what is it?” Jon questioned, immediately sitting up in his bed, fully awake. “Are the boys okay? Are your parents? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sansa, Jon!” Robb answered, making the blood freeze in Jon’s veins.

“Is she okay? Is she all right? What’s wrong? Where is she?” he demanded frantically as he felt his heart painfully freeze up inside his chest.

Robb didn’t seem to notice that Jon was on the verge of having a panic attack. His response was still desperate for him, but still somewhat subdued compared to how Jon was feeling. “Her fiancé’s dead, Jon. The asshole was getting a blowjob by some bimbo while he was driving around, and he somehow lost control of the car and drove it right off a mountain. Sansa just called me from home after she got the visit from the police.”

Jon’s nerves were somewhat less frazzled with the news that Sansa had been well enough to call Robb, but hearing that her fiancé had died like that only made him irate.

“Sansa’s at their house, but to make matters worse, the asshole filmed himself doing all of that crap just before he died, and somehow the video got posted to all of his social media accounts, so everyone now knows that he’s a dick and that he died being one. If he wasn’t dead already, I would murder him!”

Even though Jon had never liked the bloke, he couldn’t help but feel remorse at the fact that a man had lost his life. It just felt overwhelming that something like that would happen to her when she was so determined to make a go of it with him. Deep down he was relieved that she didn’t have to anymore.

“You’re right, the guy’s a dick, Robb. Still, I’m so sorry to hear that Sansa has to go through all of that,” he said, hoping he sounded the right amount of remorseful and disgust  despite the fact that he was overcome with an overpowering sense of relief.

“Yeah, well… Sansa is really shaken up. She’s at the police station, but my parents are flying out right now to go get her… They just want her home, now more than anything. I just needed to talk to someone to keep myself from going crazy thinking about how things have gone for her. She didn’t deserve this.”

Jon stayed on the phone for a few more minutes, soothing his best friend and assuring him that everything would be okay before he had relaxed Robb enough for him to try going back to sleep. After hanging up the phone, however, sleep was the very last thing on his mind. Now, more than ever, he was concerned about Sansa, but also about the events that had led up to her fiancé dying.

Did he have a part to play in it? A niggling thought made itself known in the back of Jon’s mind. His memory flashed back to the box he had placed in Sansa’s hand and the voice he had heard in the back of his head. She needs me. Did what he does lead up to this?

As though she had read his mind, despite being hundreds of miles away from him, Sansa’s name appeared on the screen of his phone, though it was a text rather than a phone call. Jon didn’t know why, but his fingers shook as he opened the message, as though he just knew that it was going to shake his entire world up.

Sansa: I’m sure you’ve heard by now. I guess you not only see everything, but you’re right about everything, too.

 Jon: I didn’t want to be right like this. I hope you know that. You deserved so much better than Harry. You always did

 A couple of minutes passed, though they felt like hours to Jon who wanted some kind of assurance that he didn’t sound like a complete ass to someone who had just lost her fiancé, even though he had died while he was cheating on her. Finally, he received another notification saying he had received another text from her, which he opened eagerly.

 Sansa: Arya Underfoot seemed to have agreed with you, Jon.

 Frowning, confused, Jon stared at her message for a long moment, trying to grasp what it was she was trying to say.

 Jon: What exactly does that mean, Sansa?

 Sansa: I think you know what I mean already, Jon. Why else would you have given her back to me?

 Jon: Are you saying that she… that tonight was because of her?

 Sansa: I can’t say for sure… but she did tell me that she didn’t want me to be with Harry. I’m pretty sure she may have made Harry swerve off the road tonight because right before she said she was going to leave me for good, and she told me that I needed to be brave soon. I think with the accident, that’s what she meant.

 Before Jon could even fathom how to respond to that, another text notification came in for him to open.

 Sansa: I think I’m ready to be happy now, Jon.

  3 Years Later

Jon ran into the hospital with panic etched on his face and anxiety drilling into his heart.  A last minute meeting had made him miss the calls from his wife that she had gone into labor and had been rushed to the hospital by her mother. By the time he had gotten out of his meeting, he found out that she had delivered the baby, and they were both healthy.

Walking into the room where his wife and newborn baby were sleeping, Jon went to her bedside and covered his wife’s face in kisses until her eyes fluttered open. He then kissed her lips desperately, both in gratitude for being so strong and bringing their child into the world and for allowing him to be the one to give her the happiness he had once promised her.

“Have you seen the baby yet?” Sansa finally questioned once she managed to push him back enough for her to speak.

Jon shot a furtive glance to the bassinet, his eyes already misting as he reluctantly walked away from his wife to peer at the child that she and he had made. He didn’t stop until he was peering down at the tiny, slumbering form, his vision blurring by the rush of tears that were beginning to build up in his eyes at the mere sight of the precious bundle.

“Congratulations, Daddy, it’s a baby girl,” Sansa cooed from her hospital bed, her own eyes wet as she watched him.

“A girl?” Jon asked as he knelt down to bring his face closer to his daughter’s. “Really?”

Sansa grinned and nodded happily. “She’s practically perfect already, but she has a pair of lungs on her that the nurses say always wakes up the other babies in the nursery, so I just told them to let her stay with me because I don’t mind hearing her voice.”

Jon chuckled and wiped at his eyes before reaching down and gently lifting the small bundle into his arms. The baby gurgled and grumbled a little at being shifted, but she stayed asleep as Jon cradled her in the crook of his arm and pressed a kiss to her brow.

“Did you name her yet?” he asked Sansa as he started to rock his daughter despite her already being asleep.

“I wanted to wait for you to come before I did.”

Jon didn’t want to ever put her down, but it wasn’t long before she woke up crying, ready to be fed and he had to relinquish her to Sansa, though he sat right next to her to watch the baby feed. With her awake, he was able to see more of her features and it was a bit starling to see that she had his eyes and his hair. He was a little disappointed that she didn’t take more after Sansa, but as he looked down at her, he couldn’t help but think that she was still absolutely perfect just the way she was. Also, in addition to the strong resemblance to him, there was something about her that felt oddly… familiar about her.

“Did you have any names picked out that you wanted to name her?” he asked his wife, who was staring lovingly at their daughter as she fed her.

Sansa looked up from the baby for a second to look into his eyes with a shy smile before she hesitantly shook her head ‘no’. But Jon didn’t quite believe her. Still, he felt like there was already a name building up on his tongue, ready for him to just open his lips and speak it aloud.

“What would you say… to calling her Arya?”

The relieved sigh that left Sansa’s lips was more than confirmation enough for him that he had made the right choice.

“How did you know I wanted to call her that?” Sansa asked softly as she pulled him down to her so she could kiss him.

Jon shrugged, not sure how he could explain his own strange connection to her strange imaginary friend. “She just looked like an Arya to me, I guess. What about you?”

“Well, Arya Underfoot was already grown when I first saw her, but looking at our Arya…I can’t help but think that they’re going to be identical. Does that make this even weirder for you?”

“Considering the roll she played in getting us together, I’m not sure I can disagree at all, love,” Jon confessed quietly. “All I can say is she’s here with us now, and that’s all that matters. And because we brought her here, together, we’re going to make sure she has the happiest life that we can possibly give her.”

Sansa pulled him down for another kiss, but before Jon could deepen it, Arya finished feeding and was letting the milk drop onto her face. She started to whimper as Sansa gently cleaned her face up and then pressed delicate kisses on her forehead.

“Welcome to the world, Arya Underfoot,” Sansa whispered softly into the baby’s ear, just loud enough for Jon to hear. “You gave me the world, and now I promise I’m going to give the world back to you.”

Jon squeezed both of his girls to him and kissed both of their heads gently before staring at his daughter lovingly. “Welcome home, Arya Stark.”

[jamiedc-they-them]

The Void (Platonic)

REQUESTED IMAGINE: “heyy, can i request r x daisy (platonic), where r's sister was killed (and maybe tortured) by hydra and r is ready to go in a vengeance rampage (and does) but after going after everyone kinda realises that they still aren’t better and daisy comforts them”

I really hope I’ve done it justice! :)

Death, you should’ve been used to it now; you should’ve been almost numb to it. Sure, enemies of yourself and SHIELD would die, and you wouldn’t bat an eye. It as friends that hurt, that caused you to feel.

Ward was technically the first one, the man who died metaphorically. The friend you thought you knew died when he killed Hand and Koenig and tried to take Skye from you all. From her actual family.

Then it was Tripp, then the list just grew and grew them there, really.

You and Skye had just instantly clicked. Sure, you both had a familial bond with the others. But they knew too, that you were both closest with the other. She had her time at the orphanage to thank (and she did thank it, for this) for the big sister instinct she had when it came to you.

She’d always listen if you wanted to talk, always be a shoulder for you to cry on; she could read you like a book.

That’s why, when it came to this news; to this video, she knew what you’d try to do.

 You were aware that you had a sister ever since you had gone to after life with Skye, now known as Daisy, to learn more about your powers. You had definitely gotten more than you bargained for, learning that you had a blood sibling out there was something. However, they didn’t know where she was.

Daisy, knowing that she would have done the same, helped you in trying to track the girl down, only to no avail. That had led to a long night of you breaking down in tears, as she did all she could to help you with your pain.

“You don’t have to go through this alone.” Those were the words that stuck out for you. Those eight words that she said with so much compassion that you almost, almost, believed them as the truth.

She stayed with you that night, running her hand through your hair as you tried to fall asleep. Eventually, you had managed to. You had gotten lucky that time; she stayed with you the whole night, arm wrapped around you to try and provide some sense of comfort.

May had gone to your room, knowing that it would likely be where she would be if not her own room or already training; when she knocked and didn’t receive and answer, she slightly pushed the door open.

What she found, was Daisy with that arm around you securely, but her eyes were open now and she was looking at May. The woman nodded, allowing training to be pushed back that one time.

 This video, and the subsequent events, were another case of letting training slide. Although, this time it was for something much more serious.

 It was Ward, a last “present” for you all. You had all gathered in the room, you weren’t sure as to why. You were just told to do so and did as such.

“Ward sent me this a while ago,” You scrunched up your eyebrows at the reasoning of him not showing the rest of you whatever it was until now; but, you let him continue, “Now….I know he’s been gone for a while, and that we should all just move on,” His eyes came to meet your own for a moment, “I can’t on this occasion.”

With that, he hit play on the video. It was hand-held, most likely by Ward himself; in front there was a door that had seen better days, with the grime on it and what not. He pushed the door open slowly, as if building to some unknown climax.

He walked into the room and flicked a light switch. Instead of the whole room being illuminated, it had a single light, almost like a spotlight, on a woman around your own age in the middle, tied to a chair. She stirred at the light, looking up to Ward, then her eyes hit the camera.

One thing you noticed, other than being similarly aged, was the fact that you both had the same eye colour.

Now the unsettling feeling began to pool in your stomach.

To you, it was just you in the room, everyone else was gone; all you heard was the video, all you saw was the video, nothing else.

Ward slowly approached the girl; whose look grew more and more fearful the closer he got to her. Finally, he was stood so close you could see the bruises on her face, the cuts on her eyebrows and around herself.

“What – What do you want?” She asked, trying to mask her own fear.

Ward crouched down, the camera was now eyelevel with as he responded, “Y/N got out, but not you. You remember that? The way SHIELD grabbed them, but left you to rot?” He taunted.

Hearing your own name made your blood run cold, you knew you had probably gone pale by this point; you were frozen, your eyes only on the screen.

Ward seemed to know that you’d somehow see this, that Coulson would want to show it to you, “Or…actually, I forgot their “codename” that we gave them. Subject – Wow, I actually don’t know.” He seemed almost surprised at himself for not remembering.

“Doesn’t matter, because they’ll be joining you real soon.” It was quick, very quick. A simple BANG! And her head fell back, she was motionless the next moment.

The sound made you stumble a little, he didn’t even have to state the connection between you two for you to figure it out on your own.

Now it made sense, why Coulson met your gaze, why he seemed to hold guilt mixed with a little worry; you just thought the worry was the normal amount he held for you, being the youngest of the team and all.

No, it wasn’t because of that. It was because Ward made this for you. For your eyes to see it. To see the only person who you could call family die by his own hands.

 As soon as Daisy heard your name, she looked to you; her heart was racing as she felt fear for you, for what was about to come. She hadn’t seen the video, but she could tell what Ward’s next move was most likely to be.

When she heard the BANG! She flinched, just as you stumbled backwards a small amount. Your mouth parting slightly as your eyes filled with tears.

She wanted, had, to do something. She had to act. But, before she could, you were out the room like a bullet. She cringed at her use of that term.

Her gaze turned to Coulson, who merely stared at the door you had ran through. He met her gaze, his guilt almost multiplying by the looks of things.

“What – How – When….I mean –” She could barely get words out, her mind firing thoughts out one after the other, none stop, seemingly in an instant.

Coulson approached her, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder; Jemma and Fitz weren’t stood too far behind, ready to help their other best friend calm down however they could.

“I had it for a few months. I watched it once, before I called everyone else in to talk about Ward. I’m sorry I didn’t tell either of you sooner.” She managed her nod. But she nodded more times than necessary.

“Was that really her?” She asked, voice cracking as the question left her lips. She desperately hoped for you that the answer was false.

Her hopes of that crashed and burned when he nodded, almost numbly.

“It is.” He said, softly, as if not to set her off.

She spun around at his affirmation, only to be stopped by two of her other siblings.

“Daisy –” Her own sister figure tried to say.

“I need to see them.” She said, more firmly this time.

“You don’t –” Her brother figure tried to dissuade her.

“They need someone, especially now, Fitz.” She looked into the Scotsman’s eyes as she spoke, “You two did the same thing when I came back from Afterlife, right?” They nodded, knowing they had lost this argument.

 Once she cleaned her tears, she finally turned to your door. She had been to it so many times, but this was different. This was something that hadn’t shook you both as much as when you’d found out you even had a sister out there in the world.

Part of her, she hated it, was worried that you would just turn away from herself and Jemma and fully focus on this new sister. However, even as she helped you as best, she could, you assured the two of them that your blood sister would meet your found ones.

Now that would never come to fruition.

She raised a hand up to your door shakily, her breath quickening as she knew that this talk would not be pretty. That she herself was barely keeping it together, she could only imagine the pain you would be in.

Three simple, but firm, knocks were placed on your door. Tap! Tap! Tap! Then, silence.

Tap! Tap! Tap! Three more….Still, nothing came of it.

“Y/N?” She asked softly, almost hesitantly, through the door. She placed her hand against it, as if hoping you would do the same action.

“It’s me. It’s only me, I promise. No one else is here.” She thought maybe that would help goad you into opening the door and letting her in.

Nothing came of it.

“…Please, Y/N? I wanna help you.” She meant her words, she always meant those words of sincerity to everyone on the team, or just in general.

She especially meant them here, too.

 You sat on your bed, tried tear stains on your face. It wasn’t that you didn’t have any more tears to shed, not at all; you were just tired. More importantly, you had gone into a kind of numb state.

To you, again, the world was gone. Just you sat in a room, your thoughts a constant storm of, “What if?” at least, at the start they were. Then they turned to darker ones. Thoughts of all the pain you should’ve made Ward feel when you and Coulson finally took him down on Maveth.

At least, now, you understood the extra oomph in his punches against Ward. He was trying to avenge your dead sister, just without your knowledge.

You kind of felt envious that Coulson was the one who took him down. The one who got to end the traitors life. You knew you couldn’t kill Ward, not even Hive; Lincoln had taken that away.

But what you could do, was finish off what was started. The seemingly never-ending war on HYDRA could finally have some sort of resolution, you just had to find them and burn them to the ground.

Yeah, that could work. No, it would work…But, that just left the last puzzle piece off –

Tap! Tap! Tap! Three knocks occurred from your door, then three more after.

The last puzzle piece being: How do you  get past your best friends without being caught and without them noticing?

“Y/N?” Daisy’s soft and concerned voice sounded form outside your door. You just stared at said door.

“It’s me. It’s only me. I promise. No one else is here.” She assured you. You stood up at it, and the next moment stood right at the door. Now you just had to reach down and open the door.

“…Please, Y/N? I wanna help you.” She said, voice trembling a little.

Your hand shook as you slowly lifted it to the handle; you unlocked it….and finally turned the handle.

As soon as you did, Daisy brought you into a tight hug; she had her own tears, one even fell as she squeezed you tight. All you did was let out a sob as you clung to her. She was silent the whole time, only rubbing your back and saying nothing; knowing that it wouldn’t help things.

She sat with you on your bed, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles to try and show her support for you during this time. You however, only stared at the floor as more tears pooled only to then fall from your eyes.

She clocked an empty bag near your drawer of clothes. She then looked at you, and for the first time since being outside your room, spoke.

“Do you want me to ask Coulson for some time off?” She asked, thinking that the bag would be used for that function; after all, you hadn’t really found a use for it outside of missions. She figured that a break would be good for you.

You thought about it for a moment, you could have done with one; but that wouldn’t make up for the pain you felt. You needed to go after HYDRA; alone, as you couldn’t bare the guilt if anyone else in your family got hurt in your quest.

You nodded, knowing that this would get them off your back for a little while; plus, it would help sell why you had left.

 It was later, it was currently 2:40 am according to your clock. Most, if not all your friends would be asleep right now; maybe not May, but you could easily get past her with your own ability.

Your own one wasn’t much; you could dash around a short distance pretty quickly. It had it’s uses, when it came to May it would be one of them.

You went to the bag that laid on the floor, placing a few magazines in it you had stolen from the armoury, then a pistol, then some drinks to help you on your way; you knew the others wouldn’t like the fact that like 90% of those drinks were alcohol, but they weren’t here to stop you.

They couldn’t anyway.

The next moment, you had dashed past May, then the door, then out the building.

You were on your way.

 Daisy had been woken up by May, she thought it was for training; but, when she saw the genuine look of slight worry on her face, she knew something bad had happened.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she slowly sat up, still trying to get the sleep out of herself. May grabbed her arm and brought her to the training room, then pointed to the ground. Daisy looked at the woman confused, but still followed her finger.

On the ground, there was a faint trail of your power; like everyone’s, there was always a sign that you had been there; for Daisy it was the destruction, for it was a slight trail of dark wisps.

She knew what she wanted to say, that you simply weren’t good at goodbyes. But she then followed the trail and saw it by the door, that same idea popped into her head; but she knew you better than that. Even if you hadn’t wanted to go, you would’ve waited for her to ask Coulson and then maybe do this.

“Oh no.” That was what she actually said, as she finally let herself see what your actual goal was.

 You’d been on your own before, living in a HYDRA cell for a large part of your existence had taught you how to deal with it. Or at least, you thought you had fully mastered it.

Now, sat on the roof of a building, overlooking one of your first targets, it seemed that you hadn’t been as good at dealing with it as you maybe had once thought yourself as. Now, you were lonely, you missed the others and the way they seemed to tell when something was off with you.

Jemma was always the softest when it came to that, her soft and calming aura she had when she was helping her friends didn’t go amiss by any of you. Even after everything she had gone through, she still managed to hold onto that.

Fitz would get a drink and offer his ear to you, most nights you’d end up a little buzzed from the drink. But thankful for having him on your side.

Mack would just hug you; his legendary hugs were something you always liked. The way the size difference between you two made him look like he had engulfed you; instead, you felt protected.

May had a way to tell what was wrong with you, she’d mainly train with you and try to get you to talk. If that didn’t work, she used to have Andrew come in. Obviously, that couldn’t happen now.

Coulson had a fatherly way about him from the day you had met him. He saw you as a scared and scarred child and gave you a chance to live. You had always been thankful to him for giving you that chance to have that. You always made sure to let him know, even if he always told you to not worry about it.

Elena was relatively new to your circle of friends, but you liked her. She had an upbeat side to her that you all saw; she was energetic, and that helped you when you needed someone to talk to.

Daisy, as said before, was the one you went to the most. She was your best friend (they all were, but she was your best-best friend), and you were her’s. Each other’s ride or die.

You missed them, but you had to do this.

So, when a man who looked too suspicious (from the glasses to the way he held himself) leave the café your room was overlooking. You knew you hadn’t chosen this building for nothing. That it was paying off.

Granted, this was just step one of the plan. Now you had to get to the guy and make him talk. That was something else. But you weren’t trained by HYRA (and you most certainly didn’t survive HYDRA) for nothing. Not for it all to got to waste; not now.  

You got down from the roof, after checking your file on the guy one more time, before following after him.

The guy seemed to have a six sense, as he kept looking over his shoulder; you, however, were quicker in blending in with the crowd. Whenever he’d move, so would you. It was a like a game of, “Red light, green light” only now with actual stakes.

He looked behind again, this time spotting you. His eyes widened in recognition as he then took off. You quickened your own, but not into a run, you could still spot him.

He kept running, running, and running. You only dashed forward a small bit every so often; you found it kind of amusing how he kept trying to believe he could outrun you. That he could make it. That he could survive this encounter with one of the people he taught how to ensure that it would be them making it out and not the other person.

That was why, when he turned the corner and thought that he could breath for a second, the very next one you were behind him as he turned around to move on or call for back up.

He never got that chance, to either do one of those things or even scream, as you pinned him against the wall in a chokehold the next moment.

He fought viciously against your vice grip, desperately trying to get you to release your hold on him so he could fight back.

You didn’t give him that chance, you only squeezed and squeezed and squeezed until his eyes rolled and you saw he was unconscious. You lowered yourself with him, punching him to make sure he was down.

You stood back up, checking the alley way you were in to see if anyone had seen you. You were lucky in that no one actually had.

You heard a phone beep; crouching down, you checked his pockets and found a phone. You wiped away some blood that would have almost surely slipped into the cracks of the now damaged phone had you not acted.

On the phone, you saw a picture of him and a woman, but it meant nothing to you. You grabbed his limp hand and pressed the thumb onto the fingerprint prompt, the next moment the phone unlocked.

You looked at the message, seeing only some coordinates.

Ok then, that was your next stop.

You thought back to Coulson, how tired the man had seemed after you both had finally put Grant Ward down. Although, in your eyes, a part of him did look relived that it was other. That the man couldn’t hurt you anymore.

In your eyes, now, doing this was getting more HYDRA agents off the streets. Putting off their revival one kill at a time. There weren’t many left after all. Maybe you’d be the one to burn it all down in a fiery blaze of so-called justice and retribution.

 “Daisy –” Jemma tried to say.

“I can’t find anything.” Daisy said, the stress starting to get to her.

“You need to take a break.” Jemma said again, trying to get her best friend away from the computer so she could take a moment to see the full picture and then try again later. Despite that want, she knew you two better; and that, if the tables were reversed, you would be doing the same thing.

“I need to find them, Jemma. I – I can’t just let them go out there on a suicide mission! It’s in the name, suicide! They’ll get themselves killed!” She exclaimed; Jemma felt the worry on your odds of survival as well. Neither of them wanted to lose anyone else; but especially not you, the youngest and the one they were most protective of.

Jemma knew everyone on the team would be devastated by any loss; but yours would most likely shatter them. You were the youngest, after all. Jemma didn’t want to see Daisy lose herself again in the grief; to have to watch someone who was a sister in all but blood run away on another destructive and suicidal mission of her own.

“We’ll find them, ok? We will; but you need to look after yourself as well.” Now she was in doctor mode. The that Daisy feared but couldn’t argue with.

With a sigh, she nodded; stepping away from the computer.

You had managed to find Daisy’s old van; SHIELD had pretty much just dumped the fucking thing. Plus, it wasn’t being used for anything, so you took it.

It felt a little invasive at first, but you were sure she wouldn’t mind…as long as you didn’t destroy it.

Still, you had followed the coordinates, and it had taken you to a building, one that looked to be heavily guarded at one point or the other. But now looked to be abandoned.

Then again, everything looked clean on the first go around.

Christ, you hated how right Ward was sometimes.

You sat back in the drivers seat, just taking the place in. It looked ruined, but the coordinates wouldn’t have led you here for no reason.

You know something awaited you in there.

Ok, confession time; when you had killed the first “target” it was mainly a file on a HYDRA member you had found. There wasn’t any real rhyme or reason to it; just find HYDRA agents and kill them.

At least, now, by coming here, there was some sort of structure to it. Some sort of endgame. You’d find whoever was in there and be the only one to make it out of there alive.

 “How many files did they steal?” Coulson asked as the tam stood in his office, looking at the screen where a big ass photo of your face was plastered on one screen as Daisy had a search going on the other to try and ping your location.

So far, nothing had come of it.

“Only 3.” Was May’s response; that surprised both Daisy and Coulson. As they both knew you were in vengeance mode, yet you had only stolen 3 files? Something wasn’t adding up.

“Tremors?” Mack asked in slight concern as he saw Daisy’s eyes glued to the screen, the rest of the team soon followed their friend’s gaze.

There, they saw a flashing blue light. It was a ping from your device.

They’d found you.

 The fence was nothing, you merely zipped past it with your ability like it was nothing. You then walked up to the front door. A panel sat on the door, it required a code that you, obviously, did not own.

So, you simply zipped past that as well.

You were met with darkness and silence. An unsettling feeling plunged your stomach; maybe you were actually alone in here. Maybe the coordinates had been a ruse –

Footsteps, you heard footsteps, and singing? Not something you expected, for sure. But it was something to tell you that you weren’t alone in here.

As you walked, you remembered what it was like to live in places like this. Places that, in your mind when you were held in one of these places, were in the middle of nowhere. Turns out, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

You kept going, walking into a hallway lit in an ominous red. The light consumed you as you entered the hallway, you saw it was a silent alarm going off. For what? You did not know.

The singing them turned into whistling of the tune, whether that be due to the words being forgotten or whatever, it didn’t matter. Not to you, anyway.

Using your elbow, you slowly opened the door, your other hand holding the pistol in your grasp. The person, now looking more like a scientist, was still unaware of your position behind them.

Slowly, you rose your weapon up. When even that didn’t get the scientists attention, you did something that did.

You pulled the trigger, the bullet hit them in the leg.

A feminine cry of pain left her mouth as she fell to the floor, one hand grabbing her new wound and the other grabbing the table for support.

You slowly walked over to her; pistol aimed at her with one hand as if she was a threat. At one point in your life, she had been. Or, people like her had been, scientists that would experiment on you and your sister.

“Who – who are you?” She asked through clenched teeth; you crouched down, being eye level with her. She looked up at you, her eyes widened as she recognised you, “You….you’re –”

“The one who got away.” You finished for her; glad she knew who you were. Seemed you were a HYDRA legend now, even if for the wrong reasons.

“Please – I had nothing to do with your sister.” Seemed they knew about that as well. Seemed everyone knew but you.

“I know, because the person who killed her is already dead.” Your words sent a chill down her spine, her breathing picked up a little in pure fear.

You leaned in, “Anyone else here?” She shook her head quickly; you nodded, “Ok.” You sighed as you stood up.

“But –” You cut her off when you pulled the trigger again, this time a headshot.

Hearing another beep, you looked down to see a blue light going off then on again. You crouched down, only to see that it was a beacon.

Oh, fuck. You knew what that meant, more agents would be coming. You then heard doors open in sync, then yelling. That told you one thing, there were more people here.

 “HYDRA distress call just went out.” Fitz told the others over the radio; Fitzsimmons had stayed behind at base while the others had gone to get you and bring you home.

“Dammit! Y/N what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” Daisy said in worry as the car pulled up just outside the building.

“I’ll get them, you guys secure the perimeter!” She ordered Coulson and May, the two nodded as Daisy quaked the door open.

She then ran in, determined to bring you out in one piece.

 You walked from a red hallway into a hallway that turned from red to darkness, a blaring alarm going off to seemingly no end now.

You entered that hallway, determined to find who was there, only to be surprised and pinned against a wall; your attacker was someone that was just like you, a scared young adult who knew nothing else other than how to fight.

They bit into your arm, as you cried out in pain, you punched them twice in the face. You managed to get the upper hand, quickly snapping their neck.

You were then thrown to the floor again by another subject, this one trying to strangle you; you managed to kick them away. You drew your pistol, only to have no bullet come out; you threw it at your new opponent. It stunned them for a moment, but that was all you needed to tackle them to the ground and start punching them over and over again.

You then stood up, looking at the mark on your arm; Christ, you had no idea if it was infected or not. But you couldn’t go back now, you made a promise to have HYDRA burn. So, that’s what you were going to do.

A gunshot went off, hitting you right in the back of your shoulder, the momentum of your body allowed you to turn (not very gracefully) as you hit the floor and load a magazine into your gun, firing it at the HYDRA agent that had snuck up on you.

Now you were bleeding and most likely had a wound that would be infected. But you still kept going, you had to keep going.

Maybe this would be it, when HYDRA would die looking for you. You could make it work; you were a survivor. You always had been, this wouldn’t be any different.

You just had to steal their guns and use their own weapons against them. Although, you were already sort of doing that by being there in the first place.

Coming home to burn it all down, to you it felt cathartic.

 Daisy was running, hearing blaring alarms and being illuminated by a devilish red as she ran through hallway after hallway; a never ending set of them leading to more blaring lights and sounds; along with gunshots being mixed in just to add to her worry and vanishing hope to find you alive and to be able to bring you back home and to them.

“Daisy, there are more of them coming! How much longer do you need?” May asked into the radio, the gunshots that were being fired at the two outside came through as well.

“I – I don’t know, I’m almost there.” She didn’t catch the contradiction in her words.

“Daisy, their phone is near you! Turn left and go down that hallway, the phone is in the middle of it.” Jemma said over the comms; Daisy did as her friend asked. She followed the hallway, only to be met with a few bodies and a small blood trail that was broken up but led to the end of the hallway and somewhere else.

She ran down the hallway, finding your phone with some blood on it and a cracked screen. She picked it up, wiping the bloodstain away that would have surely gotten inside the device and ruined it had she not acted.

She saw your lock screen was the picture of you all at the rocket launch, she had her’s framed; yours was here. She had a wobbly smile as she looked at it. Then the fear returned.

“Y/N!” She yelled out, she didn’t get a reply, “Y/N!” She yelled, this time louder and filled with more desperation for a reply.

Her reply was gunshots.

 You loaded your last magazine into the clip, you took a deep breath for yourself. The gunshots from HYDRA grew more louder as more joined in, but also closer as they slowly advanced on your position.

You peaked over the desk, only for bullets to pelt against it, so you lowered your head right after. However, you had spotted an assault rifle near you that you could reach if you were quick enough.

You rose from cover, firing a few times to make them back off. Once they had, you quickly zipped out of cover and grabbed the rifle; three more shots and they were down.

That cathartic feeling that you once felt. That was gone now. There was nothing there; no satisfaction, no feeling of peace, no happiness that you’d made it through. There was nothing.

Nothing but an alarm blaring above you as the red light continued to shower you and then leave you once again.

Nothing but the blood on your body, some of it your own, but other parts from your foes that had stood in your way.

“Y/N!” You heard Daisy’s voice call out, it almost cracked and sounded kind of scratchy. She must’ve been looking for you for a while.

“Here.” You said, your voice tired and close to tears that you gulped back. You let the rifle hang by your side.

Daisy turned the corner, letting her eyes scan you for any injuries. When she was satisfied that you would live, she walked towards you and instantly enveloped you in a hug.

Letting the rifle drop to the floor, you hugged her back, just as tightly as she had.

“I killed them.” You wept. She couldn’t disagree, she only rubbed your back more and ran her hand through your hair to try and provide some comfort. Even if she wasn’t sure if it would do anything. She still tried.

“I can’t, I can’t do it – I…” You just ended up breaking down once again, trying to get some words out but not being successful in doing so.

“Coulson, May, I’ve got them.” Daisy said as she moved the hand that had been going through your hair to activate her comms. She did, however, keep her hand that supported your back in position and continued to try and comfort you in your time of desperate need of that.

“Are there more coming?” You asked, your voice shaking a little. She nodded, keeping her concerned gaze on you as you pulled away from the hug.

“Ok,” You picked up the rifle again, handing it to her and picking up another, “Let’s go.”

 You waited in one corner, while Daisy waited in another. When the agents came in, you shot two in the head; while Daisy shot on, then Quaked the other into the wall. You both shared a nod and left the room, clearing yet another hallway.

You both took cover at a wall, you nodded to three the entered the new room. The bright light from outside blazed through the door as the other slammed open via an SUV.

“Coulson?!” Daisy yelled into the comms, worried for your leader.

“We’re fine, we had to push back a little. Don’t worry, we’re not far away.” He told Daisy the new location.

“Alright, sir. We’re on our way.” She assured him as you both shared a look.

More gunfire rained down on you both as you dove for cover. You barely had time to raise your head without more gunfire clanging off of either the wall or your chosen cover.

“I have an idea.” Daisy looked at you to explain it, you merely nudged your head to a piece of cover across the way. You could dash to it, thus giving her time.

“Ok, one 3?” You nodded, “One…two….three!” She yelled, you ran for a second before you used your ability; as the guards all aimed at you, Daisy came up and used her power on the three that were firing, they were sent flying back into their own vehicles.

Once outside, you were about to use your ability again when Daisy stopped you, “There!” She called, pointing to a whole in the fence, you both scrambled through it. Then went on foot up the hill. At the top, Coulson and May stood, firing at the guards below to cover your approach.

“Is that –” You cut her off.

“Found it.” You said, knowing that you would fully explain yourself once you got out of this, together.

 “Hey.” Daisy said as she knocked on your open door, leaning against the doorway. You turned to her, giving her a timid smile.

“Hey.” You parroted, nudging your head to tell her to come in.

She did so, “How you doing, kiddo?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Gonna be a while for Coulson to fully trust me again.” You admitted.

“Won’t be that long; he’s just cautious, and worried. Think we all were….are.” Her last word stung you a little. She could easily see it in the way you looked at the floor in guilt.

“Sorry –”

“No, don’t apologise. You scared us. But we managed to take out a HYDRA base. Just….”

“I don’t really know her – uhm, but I think you would’ve liked her.” She smiled, of course you knew what she was going to advise you to do. To talk.

“I’m sure we would’ve.”

She spent the rest of the day with you, talking to you and trying to help you moved on.

You both knew it would take a while, but at least you knew you had her and the others in your corner.

You, as much as neither of you really knew your sister, you all still grieved her like you did. Together.

[im-up-to-shenanigans]

Fairy Tale

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Summary: After getting Chinese takeout together, Ladybug and Cat Noir must battle an akuma and discover that maybe dreams really do come true. Ladynoir July 2020, Day 5: Banter

Rating: K+

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Cat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Cat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

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A/N: Credit to someone on YouTube (not me, but I couldn't find the original comment, so I can't give you a name. I did ask - and got- permission to use this idea, though) for coming up with the idea for this. I made some minor tweaks. Also, this is my first fight scene for anything ever (also first original akuma). Anyway, have some Ladynoir! (Also, yes, I put a Once Upon a Time easter egg in here. No, I’m not ashamed of it.)

~*~*~*~

Patrol had been quiet that night, which was a relief. After several consecutive days filled with akuma attacks, the heroes of Paris were grateful to have a peaceful night. Ladybug and Cat Noir were currently sitting upon a beam of the Eiffel Tower, swinging their legs back and forth as they talked and laughed. Ladybug had brought some Chinese takeout to eat (It wasn't as good as her mother's authentic Chinese food, but Cat Noir didn't need to know that.).

"That was pretty good! I've never had Chinese takeout before," Cat said as he finished his food. He looked at her with a bit of awe and wonder in his eyes, as if she were his everything.

Ladybug blinked. "Wow, really?"

Her partner nodded. "Yeah, my father has my diet regulated, and I don't get to eat much food like this." He smiled.

"Then I'm glad I introduced it to you." She smiled softly back at him.

Cat Noir's smile turned into a toothy grin, and he leaned forward. "I'd be willing to try anything for you, M’Lady." He winked.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and pushed him away gently. "I'm having second thoughts about this."

"Too late, ‘Bug. Food's already gone." He gestured to the empty white boxes. He turned back to her, his face void of any goofy expression, suddenly serious. "But honestly, it was amazing."

Ladybug shrugged. "It was just takeout. I wouldn't call it amazing."

"You are the one who brought it. It is wonderful because it came from you.” He stared into her eyes, his own filled with conviction and sincerity.

Her heart did a funny little flip in her chest. Not wanting to figure out the reason behind it, she turned away, digging in the bag from the Chinese restaurant. "I nearly forgot the best part." She produced two small packaged treats of some sort. "Fortune cookies!" She gave one to him.

He watched as she opened her cookie and took out the little slip of white paper before doing the same.

Ladybug popped the cookie in her mouth as she studied the paper. "What does yours say, Kitty?"

He glanced down at the white slip that came out of his own cookie. "Follow your dreams."

Ladybug paused. "Huh, mine says the same thing."

Cat Noir scooted closer. "Maybe it's a sign." He grinned at her again.

She laughed and nudged him with her shoulder. "Down, Kitty. They are probably just running out of ideas to put in these things." She crumpled the fortune before gathering the empty cartons, shoving everything in the bag.

Cat shrugged before looking over the city, his eyes gaining a thoughtful look. "I guess that's a possibility. I just think it's strange that I would get this particular fortune today of all days."

Ladybug paused, glancing over at her partner and taking in his thoughtful expression. "Why's that?"

"I had a pretty great dream last night. It was about you."

She snorted. "How is that different from normal?"

He looked over at her and scowled, crossing his arms. "Haha, very funny." He pouted.

She giggled before reaching over and ruffling his hair. "Oh, lighten up, Cat." She pulled her hand away. "Tell me about your dream."

Cat leaned back on his arms, face turned to the stars. "Well, the two of us were walking hand-in-hand in a park along a moonlit path. We came across André and his ice cream cart and decided to get some.” He smiled softly up at the stars. “It was amazing.”

Ladybug felt the corners of her lips pull up in amusement. “The ice cream or the dream?”

He turned to look at her, a smirk forming on his lips. “Why not both? Care for some ice cream, M’Lady? After all, the fortunes did say to follow our dreams.”

The spotted heroine cocked her head in thought, her gaze falling over the streets of Paris lit up in the night. “Well, since we're talking about dreams, I had a pretty interesting one about the two of us last night as well.”

Cat Noir smiled. “Really? You dream about me?” He laid a hand on his heart. “You flatter me, Bugaboo,” he said, a silly grin on his face as he pretended to swoon.

Ladybug mock-scowled at her partner. “Didn’t we agree that you’d stop calling me Bugaboo?”

“Maybe you did. I enjoy the way you get all worked up over it too much to agree to any such thing.”

When she gave him a legitimate scowl, he started laughing. She huffed, crossing her arms. “Well, I guess you don’t want to hear about my dream.”

Cat calmed down, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Sorry, LB. What was your dream about?”

“Well in my dream, we were being chased by a bunch of knights, wolves, and witches out of a castle, past a giant gingerbread house, and up a hill in the woods with a well on top. Suddenly, we slipped on a giant broken egg laying next to a wall and went rolling down the hill.” She paused, looking over at him with the faintest smirk on her face. “I'm sorry, Kitty, but not ALL dreams come true...”

~*~*~*~

She was going to kill Hawk Moth. Because seriously? Who akumatizes someone at 3:00 in the freaking morning? She had tests in class tomorrow (today), and she did not have the time or patience to deal with this. Stupid Hawk Moth. He probably has no life. Probably never leaves his house and just sits in a dark room all day waiting for someone to akumatize. She was going to be dead to the world tomorrow and probably fail all her tests because of this. Great.

Grumbling a few choice words under her breath, Ladybug dashed over rooftops to the source of the screams. Upon arrival, she crouched behind a chimney to avoid detection while she surveyed the situation.

There were trees everywhere. The streets of Paris were being turned into a forest. People were screaming and running in all directions. Some escaped, but most were shot down by a beam of light, knocking them to the ground. Ladybug watched as the civilians hit turned into witches (with broomsticks) and knights with black armor (complete with black plumage on their helmets, mind you), rising from their place on the ground and walking to the center of all the commotion. Man, it’s like Darkblade all over again, she thought.

They joined a circle of black knights around who Ladybug assumed was the akuma victim. Ladybug could barely make out a figure in the middle of the circle due to all the black knights surrounding the akuma. With a huff of mild annoyance, she pulled out her yo-yo and used the camera function to zoom in.

The villain of the week was a little girl in a dress that came to the ground. The skirt was covered in lace and ruffles. The entire dress was sparkling and shimmering and was the color of cotton candy. On her back rested a set of wings that resembled a fairy’s. They were the same color pink as her dress with light blue undertones and accents. Her long, chocolate brown hair flowed down in waves, stopping halfway down her back, and an elegant tiara rested upon her head.

What really caught Ladybug’s attention, however, were the items in her hands. In one, the girl held a wand which she used to transform people into her black knights. In the other rested a large brown book. “Once Upon a Time” was written across the front in gold letters, and there was gold trimming around the edges of the cover to match the text.

“Good morning, M’Lady,” Cat Noir said as he dropped down beside her.

“You are way too chipper for 3 a.m.”

He chuckled softly. “So, what do we have here?”

“A little girl dressed like a freaking fairy princess holding a wand and storybook turning people into freaking knights and Paris into her own personal freaking forest.”

“Someone’s grouchy tonight.”

Ladybug shot him a glare.

Cat raised his hands up in a soothing manner with an easy smile on his face. “Let’s get this akuma taken care of so Sleepybug can go back to bed."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the scene. The black knights were escorting the akuma toward the Eiffel Tower, the witches following behind as they flew around on their brooms.

“We better follow them. Whatever they’re up to, it’s probably not good,” Ladybug said as she started spinning her yo-yo. Not waiting her partner’s response, she took off after the crowd, Cat Noir following close behind.

~*~*~*~

Mistakes were made. No sooner had they reached the Eiffel Tower than the akuma had turned into into a castle with a flash of light coming from her wand. Ladybug and Cat Noir had followed the entourage inside… and were immediately surrounded by the akuma’s minions. They desperately tried to fight against the akuma and her posse. Eventually, Cat Noir managed to grab hold of her wand and snapped it over his knee. No akuma. The akuma victim spawned another wand for her use.

The heroes were getting overwhelmed and exhausted. With only a glance shared between them, both heroes turned and fled out of the castle, away from the witches and knights now chasing them. The akuma, who they now knew was named Fairy Tale, flew above them, turning cars that had not been destroyed when the city had turned into a forest into rabid wolves who joined the chase.

“We’ve gotta lose these guys.” Ladybug shot off another rooftop, both superheroes doing their best to avoid the streets because of the huge pack of wolves snapping at their heels while simultaneously dodging bursts of magic sent their way by the witches and running from the black knights that had followed them onto the rooftops, occasionally fighting off the ones that caught up with them.

"Couldn’t agree more, M’Lady. I know normally black cats are friendly with witches, but these guys seem to prefer the wolves.” He was right behind her, sometimes growling and hissing at wolves that got too close for comfort.

It was way too early in the morning for this.

"We’ll lose them at Notre Dame!” Ladybug ripped the sword away from a black knight and hurled it at a nearby witch. The witch tried to dodge, but lost her balance and fell from her broomstick. Cat Noir launched the swordless knight off the roof, and the heroes raced to the cathedral.

At first, Notre Dame seemed to be a bust, as the superheroes saw that the once glorious church was now a gigantic and elaborate gingerbread house that threatened to crumble whenever they touched it.

Ladybug glanced back at the oncoming horde, then back at her partner with a grin on her face, a plan forming in her head. “What do you say we give our guests a little snack?”

Cat smirked. “Read my mind, LB.”

The two rushed inside and hid behind one of the grand gingerbread pillars in the back of the church. Soon enough they were joined by Fairy Tale’s minions.

Cat darted out from behind the pillar waving his hands and shouting. As the mob closed in on him, Ladybug snuck back around to the front door and quickly shut it behind her.

Once he saw that she was outside with the door closed, Cat raced back to one of the pillars. “Cataclysm!” Cat quickly launched himself through one of the frosting windows in the back, while the entire row of connected pillars crumbled, bringing the rest of the church down as well and burying the horde in a mess of gingerbread and frosting.

The two heroes ran away from the rubble, heading back to the Eiffel Castle. Fairy Tale had made some adjustments while they were busy with her henchmen. It was now complete with a moat and drawbridge. A few remaining knights were standing guard while a few witches flew around the castle.

“We’ll be able to easily cross the moat and take the knights and witches, but the drawbridge might be tricky since I’m down a Cataclysm,” Cat muttered to Ladybug as they crouched on a nearby rooftop.

“Hmm, we’ll have to draw her out then.”

A few minutes later, as they were racing up a hill with two tall stone walls on either side of them instead of trees with an extremely angry Fairy Tale on their heels, the two heroes were regretting taunting her so much.

“I don’t remember the Champs-Elyseés being a giant hill.” Cat spotted a well at the top. “Or there being a well at the top.”

“Must be Fairy Tale’s magic. She’s been taking a lot of things from fairy tales and putting them in Paris.” Ladybug paused for a moment as they dodged a blast of magic. “Is-Is that the Arc de Triomphe?”

Cat consulted his mental map. “I guess so.” He glanced behind them. “Uh, Ladybug? She’s getting closer.”

The moment they reached the well at the top of the hill, Fairy Tale opened her book and shouted, “Once upon a time, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall!” She waved her wand and a beam of light shot past the heroes.

Before they had a chance to react, a huge egg fell from one of the walls and crashed right in front of them, cracking open. Ladybug and Cat Noir had no time to stop their momentum and slipped on the egg yolk, tumbling and rolling down the hill.

As they picked themselves off the ground, both covered in egg yolk, dirt, and grass, Cat’s miraculous beeped, signaling he had three minutes left. They searched for Fairy Tale and spotted her flying over the top of the hill. “Now might be the time for some luck, M’Lady. Y’know, before she gets here.”

She nodded. “Lucky charm!” A red ball of yarn with black spots fell into her hands.

“Ooh, a ball of yarn! Christmas came early for this feline!”

Ladybug hummed. “Not yet, Kitty. Would you be so kind as to distract her for me?”

He bowed. “As you wish, Mademoiselle.” He looked up and winked before taking off, shouting to catch Fairy Tale’s attention.

While she was distracted, Ladybug ran back up to the well and crouched behind it. Then she got an idea. She scramble up the nearest tree, breaking off a few branches. Soon, with the wood and the yarn, she had fastened the frame of a net. She opened up her yo-yo to text Cat. When I give the signal, lead Fairy Tale back to the well. That’s where I’ll be.

Once he sent a confirmation, she scrambled back down the tree and hid back behind the well. She peaked over the stone structure to see her partner still being chased by Fairy Tale. He doesn’t have long. Need to do this quickly. She took her yo-yo and wove it into a net for the frame large enough for the akuma.

She peeked back out and caught Cat’s eye. When she nodded, he nodded back and began running her way.

Ladybug took a breath. She needed to time this just right. She watched as Cat led Fairy Tale closer and closer. When he jumped between the stones and the wooden roof of the well, Ladybug brought the net up, waited a beat, then brought the net up as Fairy Tale passed through.

The akuma cried out in surprise, as her flight was interrupted. She went crashing to the ground, scrambling to get out of the net. She gave up, opened her book, and began to shout. “Once upon a time—” Cat Noir reached through a hole in the net and ripped a page from the open book.

An akuma fluttered into the air.

Ladybug untied her yo-yo and the yarn, freeing the victim and caught the akuma.

After everything was cleaned up and the little girl was given back to her mother (who just happened to be one of the remaining witches guarding the palace), Cat Noir looked over at Ladybug. “You remember that dream you told me about earlier?”

She raised an eyebrow and stood akimbo. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, you followed it.” He shrugged. “Everything you said happened actually happened.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes before they widened again. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

Cat Noir stepped closer, tilting his head and smiling. “So, since yours came true, and we got the same fortune…”

Ladybug sighed. “When do you want that ice cream?”

~*~*~*~

When Marinette finally got back to bed that night, she would deny the smile on her face, no matter how much Tikki insists it was there.

~*~*~*~

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed that. It, uh, kinda took me a while since I first got the prompt. Oh well. It happened eventually. (Also, this is my first fic on tumblr, so I hope this goes well.)

@ladynoirjuly2020

[forevermyalwaysphff]

Chapter 15

A/N: Here is the next chapter! Sorry guys for the delay even though there is a world pandemic I am still an essential worker that has to work so I don’t have as much time off as I would like too. Please everyone staff safe out there❤️

—————————————

"Morning!” Alexa jumped on Harry’s back and kissed his cheek nearly frightening him to death as he checked on the eggs he was frying in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ! Are you always this perky in the morning?” Harry grabbed one of her legs to keep her from falling off of him.

Alexa slid down his backside safely on to the floor and peaked around his broad shoulders to see what he was cooking. “Mostly, yes. I take it you are not a morning person?” She giggled and kissed his shoulder as the prince groaned.

“How do you like your eggs?” Harry turned to look over his shoulder to find Alexa rummaging around through his cabinets to find the plates. She was wearing his favourite hoodie and her pajama shorts, but as she stretched up on her tippy toes to grab something on the top shelf his hoodie rode up revealing her exposed abdomen. His eyes were immediately drawn to her backside, enjoying the view he was witnessing.

“Uh, over easy.” She grabbed a couple of plates and set them down on the counter. “Would you like some coffee or tea?” Alexa turned around to catch her boyfriend still checking her out. His head sprang back down towards the eggs attempting to hide his guilty look as he had been caught.

“Don’t worry about it. I can make it.” He paused. “You just sit down and relax.” Harry kindly offered. It was easier for him to make it instead of explaining to Alexa where everything was.

Alexa walked over to him and pulled herself up to sit on the counter beside him. “Ok, babe.” She crossed her legs and swayed them back and forth while watching the prince do his own thing in the kitchen as they made small talk.

Harry handed her a cup of green tea with a few drops of milk, just the way she liked it. “Mmm, thank you.” Alexa’s hands wrapped around the warmth of the cup and took a sip, staring into his eyes over the brim of her cup. Her legs opened for Harry to come closer, trapping him in as she wrapped them around his waist.

The prince was all smiles seeing his girlfriend sitting on his kitchen counter in his sweater comfortably sipping her cup of tea. He longed to have someone to wake up to again in the mornings and having Alexa her in his home filled that void. He tucked a piece of her messy morning hair behind her ear and leaned in to capture her soft lips, tasting the tea that dripped off of them.

“I think I forgot to say good morning beautiful.” His lips broke apart for a second as they muttered those words.

“Mmm. I like my mornings with you.” Alexa’s lips spread into a smile before pulling Harry back in for another kiss before her phone started ringing.

“Is that you?” Harry tried to distract her further and keep Alexa right where he wanted her to be.

“It’s work.” She pressed up against his lips before trying to break away, but Harry was relentless and not in the mood to stop.

“Can it wait?” He wasn’t entirely asking Alexa not to, he was telling her not to answer the call.

“Mmhmm.” Her lips were back on Harry’s without a second thought.

The phone continued to ring for the second time as Alexa breathed out with a heavy sigh between their kisses. She placed her hands on his bare chest and pulled away from him as the prince groaned with frustration. “Sorry, but they wouldn’t be calling me for the second time when they know I am off unless it is urgent.”

He pursed his lips together and nodded silently with a sense of understanding. Stepping away to the side Harry helped her climb off the counter and run to grab the phone. Alexa picked it up and came back to place a soft kiss to his lips before heading back into his bedroom to take the call.

——————————

“So, the release will happen in the morning?” Alexa breathed out and waited to hear Eugenie’s confirmation over the phone while driving with Harry towards the fair.

“Yes, we figured it was best to do it while you were with Harry in Suffolk.” Eugenie let it slip, not knowing that Harry had not told Alexa he had interfered on Alexa’s behalf. Her green eyes snapped towards Harry and eyed him with a confused expression.

“We?” She clarified as Harry turned and nodded his head.

“Ok. Thanks, Eugenie.” Alexa was short in her reply.

“Have fun at the fair! I hope there isn’t a haunted house there.” Her best friend snickered knowing how afraid Alexa was of them.

“Thanks!” Alexa turned off Harry’s phone through the blue tooth and hung her head low in silence. The prince could get the sense that little bit of information was not sitting well with Alexa.

“Alexa, let me explain.” He started, but her green eyes snapped up towards him.

“Don’t.” She breathed out deeply. “I know you did it out of concern and that is what I am trying to focus on than rather me get all angry about how you went behind my back and discussed something that affects my life with my best friend.” Harry held his tongue unsure of what to say back to her.

“Thank you for caring, Harry.” Alexa placed her hand on his knee and leaned in to give his cheek a brief kiss.

“You aren’t angry?” The prince hesitated after Alexa’s response.

Alexa barked a quick laugh. “I am trying not to be and you asking is definitely not helping your case!” She continued to giggle despite the situation.

“Alright!” He held his hands up in the air briefly giving up.

The couple did not speak another word of it as they pulled into the fair grounds and parked right beside the Daniels family as Leah was taking Arlo out of the car seat. Alexa opened her door and straightened out her olive green short romper before getting attacked by an excited Molly.

“Alexa! Alexa! You came!” The small brunette child hugged her legs as her hat fell down her face covering her eyes.

“I did! I also brought Harry with me!” Alexa glanced around to find the prince coming out of his Audi.

“Let’s go!” Molly grabbed a tight hold of Alexa’s hand and dragged her off ahead of the group.

“Two please.” Harry dug out his wallet to pay for Alexa and his entry fee as she was dragged off by Molly into the fair park.

“The blonde woman already paid for you sir. Enjoy the fair!” His eyes found Alexa waving back at him to join them.

“Do you mind if we steal Molly for a bit?” He turned back to ask her parents who were nodding happily.

“Please do! She has been talking about going to the fair with you two non stop this morning. I know she would love it if you went on a few rides with her.” Leah was placing Arlo in the baby carrier on Connor.

“Have fun!” Connor giggled knowing how much a handful his energetic daughter could be, but that’s why she enjoyed having Harry around so much. He acted like a complete child around her and they always had fun.

The prince started to jog to catch up to the two girls who were checking out the rides. Alexa felt a hand on her back and she jumped a little before realizing it was Harry. “Hi, you.” His hand rubbed up and down slowly with a beaming smile as he fought the urge to kiss Alexa again.

“Molly, what ride do you want to go on first?” The prince asked as he felt Alexa’s hand slip into his back jean pocket.

“That one!” Molly pointed and ran off as the couple walked behind her.

“Get him Molly!” Alexa pointed Harry out in the bumper car across from them. She stuck her tongue out and focused in on her target hoping to ram her car into him. Harry diverted at the last second and stuck his tongue out at Alexa.

“I can’t get him Alexa! He’s tooo fast.” Molly hit the horn with her hand in frustration.

“You can do it Molly. Let’s plan a sneak attack, he won’t see it coming.” Alexa encouraged the little girl as she told Molly where to go.

Harry glanced around having lost sight of the girls when all of a sudden he was hit from behind and jerked forward. A set of laughs from behind him caused the prince to turn around his car to be met with Molly cheering loudly that she had hit uncle Harry. Alexa winked at him and offered an endearing smile. “See, he is not as good as he says he is!”

Harry, Alexa and Molly had caught up with her parents and little brother Arlo and were now sampling the fair cotton candy and snacks they developed an appetite for after all their rides. Arlo had started to fuss making his parents both sigh as they tried to eat their snack.

“Here! Let me take him for a bit.” Alexa stretched out her hands and grabbed the little boy after Leah repeatedly stated they were ok, but were quite grateful for her offer.

Alexa stood up and carried him around, gently patting his bum giving Leah and Connor a chance to speak with Harry in private. “She’s such a sweetheart. Where did you find her, Harry?” Leah commented as she kept her eyes on the blonde gushing over her newborn son.

Harry’s eyes followed Leah’s gaze and landed on Alexa. “At my cousins engagement party. Alexa and Eugenie are good friends.” He left it at that, not wanting to reveal more and have Leah bring up the wedding to Alexa.

“You two seem pretty serious.” Connor leaned in and looked his pal directly in the eye. “How long have you been together for?”

Harry knew what Connor was hinting at. Connor had been there for Harry when his relationship fell apart with Chelsy. Leah and Connor had him over for dinner and on the weekends just to distract Harry and get him out of his house. Connor was wondering if Alexa was just a rebound or were things more serious between them.

“She’s not a rebound Connor.” Harry popped a couple fries in his mouth. “We have been in a relationship for almost two months now and dating for three.”

“Well, I think she is lovely Harry.” Leah gained his attention and sincerely smiled at him. “You are always smiling around her. Something we haven’t seen from you in a while now.” She further added.

“She makes me happy, Leah.” Harry was about to continue when he saw Alexa returning out of the corner of his eye. She sat down beside Harry as he looked at the baby who was fast asleep in her arms.

“I think he fell asleep.” Alexa peaked down at him and smiled.

“Awe! You look good with a baby in your arms.” Leah beamed and gave the prince a subtle wink only the two of them shared.

“Maybe someday.” Alexa lifted her head to find Harry staring at her with his soft blue eyes and taking in the sight before him. His gaze lifted from Arlo up to Alexa’s as they connected with a lingering gaze.

It was all cut to short when Molly came running around the table and grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him off the table towards a basketball game she wanted to play after seeing the stuffed animals all out on display. “You ok?” He checked in with Alexa quickly before being dragged off.

“Go! Have fun!” Alexa giggled seeing how excited Molly was. Alexa turned to Leah and Connor as she held their son. “Your daughter is such a sweetheart. Harry and her really seem to get along well.”

Leah and Connor shared a bemused look before giggling. “Well, you need to come over when it’s bed time and see what a peach she really is!” Connor bellowed.

Alexa did get a chance to see Molly lose her cool when her parents informed her it was time to leave. She put up quite the fight and even dragged Harry into it, pleading him to go on one more ride with him while she clutched a small penguin he had won for her at a game booth. But, eventually her parents convinced Molly that it was time to go and she followed them out of the fair grounds leaving Alexa and Harry on their own.

The couple were walking through the grounds and came across a shooting game that caught Harry’s eye. His head did not waver from the stand making Alexa tug his arm and gently encouraged the prince they should play. Alexa picked up the toy gun and analyzed it hearing Harry bellow out a laugh. Picking her head up she watched him holding his gut and dissolving into laughter.

“What is so funny Harry?” Alexa popped her hip out as he took his stance ready to fire at the target. His blue eye glanced at her through the corner of his eye as he breathed in deeply.

“Babe.” He stifled his laughter for her benefit. “You are holding it upside down.” Alexa pursed her lips together and started to giggle feeling embarrassed while shaking her head lightly.

“Here.” Harry put aside his gun and stepped in behind Alexa. “Ever shoot a gun before?” He already knew the answer, but he felt bad for making Alexa feel embarrassed at his comment.

“No.” Alexa kept her gaze lowered.

“Let me show you then.” He grasped her hips and maneuvered them into the correct stance. “It’s all in the positioning.” Alexa felt his hands travel down the side of her body to get her in the accurate position. His arms reached out from behind her, picking up the gun as she felt his warm breath against the back of her neck sending chills down her spine at his close proximity.

“Now. Make sure the gun is secure right in here.” Harry pressed the bud of the gun into notch on her shoulder firmly. His hands floated towards Alexa’s and covered them with his own and guided them into place. Harry’s eyes noticed Alexa’s chest breathing up and down hard indicating what his touch was eliciting in his girlfriend.

A devilish grin formed on his lips as he guided her arms up in the air and aimed the gun at the target. “Hold it like that.”

“Like… like this.” Alexa could barely form proper words as her mind was in a daze.

“Exactly.” Harry’s fingers brushed lightly against her warm flesh on her arm, trailing from her fingers to her shoulder. He leaned in close to her ear and smiled as he continued to tease Alexa. “Now aim at the target, through here.” He pointed ahead at the sight to which she angled her head and squinted through to visualize her target.

“Breathe in.” His hands settled down on her hips to hold her steady. “Hold it, and shoot.” Alexa fired the gun and felt it kick back a little even though it was only a toy gun, it did have some firepower. She lowered the gun and looked towards the target realizing she hit it almost square in the middle thanks to his guidance.

Alexa turned around with a delightful squeal. “Harry! I did it!” She smiled proudly up at him as he wrapped his arms around her while looking at the impressive shot.

“Wow. You seem to be a natural.” He shared in her excitement.

“I am sorry miss, but you miss hit it dead on three times in a row to win a prize. Would you like to attempt again?” The booth attendee took the smile right off of her lips to the dismay of the prince.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry made no big deal of it. “Let’s play again.” He dug out his wallet and paid for both of them to try.

“Maybe you should just try…” Alexa hinted as the proud smile faded away and she handed Harry the gun.

“Come on, Lex. You did so well!” Harry pushed the gun back into her hands and closed in the distance between them. “We are only having fun, no pressure.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead sweetly as a smile tugged at the corner of Alexa’s lips at his encouragement.

“Ok.” She peaked up at him with her adoring green eyes. “One of us have to win that purple elephant. I think it would look great in your living room.” Alexa giggle as Harry’s eyes found the giant elephant hanging up along the side of the booth.

“What do we have to do to win that thing?” Harry asked the attendee who snickered.

“Good luck.” He laughed at them and then crossed his arms when the prince raised his eyebrow in silence. “You have to get six shots in a row dead center. No one has done it yet.”

He felt Alexa’s hand settle on his back and gently pat it. “Why don’t you give it a try.” Harry’s blue eyes looked to his side as he felt the gun being placed in his hands. Alexa winked up at him and displayed a look wanting Harry to prove the guy wrong.

“You heard the woman.” Harry accepted the gun and got into stance with Alexa cheering him on beside him. Alexa leaned in as he aligned his gun with the target and whispered. “You get me that elephant and I will show you what I am wearing under this romper later.” Her light giggle flooded his ears as his eyebrow rose suggestively while turning his head to lock in Alexa’s green eyes. Alexa was biting down on her bottom lip and gently nodding, answering Harry’s silent question he was asking.

“Done.” He smirked as he felt his competitive nature take flight with determination.

——————————

Alexa had her arms wrapped around the purple elephant showing it off proudly as she walked beside Harry with his arm snaked around her waist, ensuring that she was as close as possible to him. His smirk had never let his lips after he successfully won his girl the elephant, but the look on the booth attendee’s face was priceless to him.

“Do you want to go on any more rides or should we call it a night?” Harry asked his girlfriend as he pulled out his phone to check the time. The sun had already started to set and he could feel her bare arms becoming colder.

Looking ahead, Alexa caught sight of the Ferris Wheel. “One more ride?” She peaked up at Harry as he nodded. “Want to go on the Ferris Wheel with me?” Alexa clutched her elephant tighter while she waited for a reply.

“Never been on one.” Harry confessed as he stared up at the ride that was now light up against the sky.

“What?” Alexa stopped in her tracks making Harry look back at her and shrug his shoulders. “You have never been on one?”

“No, Alexa.” Harry just giggled at her reaction. “Now, will you accompany me on my first Ferris Wheel ride or shall I ask this old granny up ahead instead.” The prince teased his girlfriend as she skipped to catch up to his out stretched hand.

There was no line up as the couple were able to get a pod by themselves. Harry lowered down the bar over top of them to secure them into place as the Ferris Wheel took off. The sun had now set making the lights of the fair picturesque across the evening sky. Harry dug out his phone and took a picture of Alexa with her stuffed elephant having the fair lights in the background.

“We have to document your first Ferris wheel!” She insisted that they take a picture together and snuck in a peck on his cheeks just in time as he snapped it. Alexa was about to pull away when the prince’s hand flew to her cheek stopping her. His blue eyes were drawn to her sweet lips as he leaned in to kiss them again. Their fiery kiss fueled a spark of passion within them as Alexa moaned against Harry’s lips and grabbed a handful of fabric from his shirt to pull him closer then he already was to her.

Harry’s thumb swiped over her soft skin on her cheek and held her steady as he continued his deliberate attacks on her lips, sliding his tongue along Alexa’s bottom lip to gain access to her tongue. Her lips fell off of his as Alexa breathed out a light moan and took a second to catch her breath. A wide beaming smile graced her lips as Alexa’s green eyes opened to find Harry staring into the depths of them.

Alexa’s heart was racing a mile a minute as she took in a deep breath to calm the butterflies that were flipping in her stomach. There was a little voice inside of her head that tried to convince Alexa to tell Harry how she felt about him in that moment, but the thought of being vulnerable with the prince brought a healthy level of fear coursing through her. Her lips parted to speak as they took the leap of faith to say what her heart so desperately wanted too, but she hesitated.

The prince’s hand trailed down her cheek and settled around her neck, feeling her heart thudding against her warm flesh at a rapid rate. Her gaze faltered as she fought to break down the walls that were building up around her. “Your heart is beating so fast…” His husky deep voice broke through her internal battle.

There was something inside the prince that changed in that moment as he looked down at his girlfriend, seeing her in a new light of fondness. He had felt it the moment he laid eyes on Alexa in his driveway as he had longed to have her back in his arms. The time spent apart only further confirmed with the prince that Harry was falling hard for Alexa. Knowing Alexa’s past relationship and the fears associated with her ex, Harry had to be the one to say it first. Harry found himself wanting to be with Alexa every moment of the day and when she was not, she was never far from his mind making his decision to tell Alexa, an easy one.

Her green eyes lifted and locked in his gaze as an adoring smile spread across his lips. Those green eyes were the first thing he wanted to see in the morning and the last thing before he closed his eyes at the end of he day. But, Harry could see the fear circling amongst the lust in her eyes that confirmed his suspicions.

Alexa was falling for him too.

“Harry… I.” She tried so hard to say it, but something was holding her back inside as she averted her gaze away in embarrassment.

“Alexa.” His finger lifted her chin so he could watch her green eyes while he confessed to her. “Alexa, I am falling for you.”

She breathed in and held her breath for a moment. Those words Alexa struggled to say to him had just left his mouth. All of her fears that were circling in her mind were slowly dissipating as she witnessed the sincerity of his words through his sparkling blue eyes.

There was a time when those words were clouded with manipulation, but hearing them from Harry first, Alexa did not only hear them, but also felt them with Harry. They were not lies to keep her around or spoken for the soul purpose of hurting her. They were spoken out of admiration and growing love.

She closed her eyes and banished the rest of her doubts out of her head. Taking in a deep breath, Alexa was about to speak those same words back without any fear of what they held.

“I am falling for you too, Harry.” Alexa’s eyes were shining bright as she spoke those words back to the prince, confirming her true feelings she harboured for Harry.

“I already knew that, love.” Harry broke his silence after giving Alexa some time to process it all. He started to giggle seeing her response.

“You did?” Alexa ran her fingers through his ginger hair as a set of arms engulfed her angled body.

“Mmmhhmm.” He leant down and captured Alexa’s lips with a lingering soft kiss. “I wanted to say it first anyway.” They broke apart as Alexa wanted to look into her boyfriends mesmerizing eyes as he spoke.

A comfortable silence fell between them, as the couple were happy to sit and look into the depths of one another’s eyes. Alexa simply could not stop smiling from Harry’s confession as she was comfortably secured in Harry’s arms in the Ferris wheel pod.

“Harry?” She played with the tufts of ginger hair at the nape of his neck.

“Yes, Lex?” Harry’s smile grew wider as a playful expression formed on her features.

“I want you…” Alexa’s whispers trailed off leaving it up to Harry’s imagination as to what she meant.

His eyebrow rose suggestively at Alexa as his mind was thinking of what she potentially meant by that. “You mean?” He did not need to fully ask his girlfriend as Alexa was already nodding with a cheeky smirk.

“Yes, Harry.”

Alexa giggled as the prince got them off the Ferris wheel and grabbed her hand practically racing to his car to take her home.

Harry kicked the front door closed with the bottom of his foot and grabbed his girlfriend, hoisting her up in the air before she could even get her shoes off. Alexa squealed and giggled as the prince carried her down to his bedroom and tossed her playfully on his bed.

He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and took it off, tossing it on the ground as Alexa quickly got her shoes off. She sat on the edge of the bed while her green eyes roved over his muscular body making her stand up and run her hands down over the crevasses of muscle that lined his abdomen right down to the hem of his jeans.

Alexa looked down at her shaky hands that were now fumbling with his belt, feeling her nerves building with each passing second. Harry sensed her nervousness and needed to know that she was still alright with what they were about to do. He did not want to push things and make Alexa do something she might regret after the last amazing days they already had together.

“Alexa, are you sure you want this? We don’t have too.” The prince waited until her green eyes lifted to show him the lust circling in them while she nodded.

“I want this, Harry. I want this with you.” Her words were unwavering making the prince feel reassured about their decision to be intimate with one another. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

His hands cupped both sides of her cheeks tenderly to kiss her lips as Alexa jerked his belt free. He broke his lips off of Alexa to get rid of his jeans and then looked towards her green romper wondering how on earth to get the thing off of her. “How do you?” He asked with a bemused expression as he pulled the front zipper down exposing the mounds of her breasts.

“Well, I guess that’s one way.” Alexa giggled at the prince before turning around and sliding it off her body, allowing the material to crumple at her feet on the floor leaving Alexa in a blush pink bra and matching thong.

MATURE*

Harry bit down on his lip feeling his manhood tighten at the sight before him. He stepped in behind Alexa and brushed her hair off to one side and kissed a trail of kisses down her neck to her shoulder blade while moving her bra strap slowly out of the way. Alexa tilted her head back with a moan while closing her eyes and focusing on Harry’s lips leaving a fiery wake in their path.

She stepped back into Harry and felt his member rub up against her but eliciting a low groan from the prince that vibrated along her shoulder. Curiosity got the better of Alexa as she reached behind and grasped him through his boxers causing the prince to gently bite down into her skin from the unexpected contact.

Alexa gasped at the size of him only being semi-hard, worrying about how she would take him. Harry undid the clasp on her bra making it fall off her and exposed her breasts to him, pulling her mind away from her worries she reactively let go of him and covered herself.

But, Harry’s hands gently grasped her forearms and pulled them down. “Sorry… it’s just been a while.” She confessed her shyness towards Harry.

“I know. But, damn Alexa your body is killing me… as you felt.” He released a light laugh watching her cheeks flush pink with blush. “Turn around.” He coaxed Alexa with a whisper to allow him to take the view in and was pleased with its results. Her perky breasts were the right size, not too big or small making his mouth water just thinking about sucking on them.

He gripped both side of her hips as he pulled Alexa flush against him and looked down into her eyes. “You are gorgeous, Alexa.” He bent down to kiss her forehead gently as she smiled. “Don’t be shy, ok?” She stood on her tippy toes and captured his lips, tugging down on them.

Alexa ran her hands down his chest, across his abdomen and started to play with the hem line of his boxers. Tugging at them she bravely pushed them down over his ass and let them fall to the ground, fully exposing Harry. Alexa could not help but gasp again being reminded of his size, but she grasped his cock anyway and stroked it as the prince moaned. Alexa made her body flush against Harry’s to tease him with her lips, sending an array of kisses on his chest as she continued to stroke him.

Being unable to tolerate much more of the sensations her soft hands were giving him, Harry gripped her hands and picked her back up placing Alexa on his bed. Alexa moved further up onto his bed and waited for Harry to bring his body above her. The prince moved her legs apart and settled himself comfortable between them while he showered Alexa’s lips and neck with endless kisses. The weight of his body was welcomed as he towered over her and gently nudged his hardening member along the thin lace material of her thong.

His lips kissed a trail of kisses from the notch in her collarbone down to where her breasts rested. Peaking up at Alexa he grinned as his mouth captured her nipple and a healthy amount of breast in his mouth and sucked it hard. Her head tossed back against his pillow as Harry continued his teasing making her back arch allowing the prince to slip a hand down to her ass and grab it’s flesh.

Harry softly bit down on her nipple making her scream a little and glance up at her boyfriend with a light shake of her head only to be met with a devilish grin. Alexa angled her head with a raised eyebrow and wanted to join in on the teasing game he was playing. Harry’s hands and mouth continued to explore her body when he felt Alexa reach down and firmly grasp his cock making the prince moan against her flesh. The vibrations that coursed through her skin from the prince caused her body to shake.

“Come here…” Alexa called her boyfriend back up to her level with her sultry eyes and locked him into place with her legs wrapping around his waist. “My turn.” She giggled while placing both palms on his chest to push him down on the bed so she could straddle him.

Her little pink lace thong was still on as she started to grind up and down his erect member. She closed her eyes and tossed her head back, loving the sensations coursing through her body feeling his hard cock rubbing against her wet slit. Both of Harry’s hands found her bare ass cheeks and squeezed them before a hard hand came smacking down on them. Alexa’s green eyes flew open and were met with a cheeky grin coming from the prince. This only egged her on further, wanting to torture her boyfriend with her body.

They were both loving their foreplay and teasing with one another. They took their sweet time exploring the other’s bodies and learning what drove them closer to the edge. Harry would do one thing that caught Alexa off guard and then Alexa would drive him mad with the light ministrations she showered his body with. The teasing become too much for the couple to handle as they longed to finally become closely intimate with one another.

Alexa bent down kissing Harry’s lips hard that indicated she wanted more. Her lust filled eyes drew him in as they silently begged him to comply with her demand. “I want you in me, Harry.” A smirk appeared on his lips seeing Alexa’s eyes in a clouded daze of desire for him.

“I need to do one more thing first.” He brought her lips back down and tasted them again as he sweetly moaned. Harry sat up as Alexa’s lips remained attached to his and flipped her over to settle her down on her back. He got up off the bed and knelt down to grab her thong to pull it off her body. “I want to taste you first, babe.”

The prince licked his lips as he spread her legs wider to expose her clean shaven pussy to him. He kissed slowly down the inside of her right thigh, taking his time to get to the target. Without warning, his strong arms lifted her legs and cupped her buttocks in his hands bringing her hips to meet his mouth. With gentle, delicate flicks of his tongue, he tasted Alexa making her grip the sheets of his bedding with balled up fists.

She writhed beneath him as his tongue was driving her wild into endless moans, almost bringing her to the edge. His tongue explored every inch of her sex as Alexa laid there breathless and completely under Harry’s control. Just when Alexa thought she couldn’t handle any more, Harry slipped a finger inside of her as she arched her back pushing herself further down on him. Harry slowed his tongue to deliberately unhurried licks as he fingered her and felt how tight she was. He slipped in another finger and took his sweet time getting her ready for him.

“Harry, if you don’t stop.” Alexa half moaned as she felt another one of his fingers enter her. “I am going to cum.

Feeling the bed shift in weight, Alexa opened her eyes to find Harry at her side. He thrusted his fingers into her harder and leant down to suck on her nipple again. “Then cum for me.” His deep voiced demanded while he pumped his fingers in and out of her faster. His blue eyes held her gaze as he waited for Alexa to crumble from his touch.

“Oh, my god.” Alexa breathed in and bit down on her bottom lip tried to contain what Harry was doing to her body. The sensations were all too much for her body to handle between Harry’s mouth and tonguing devouring her breast and his fingers torturing her with each movement in and out of her.

Alexa gave in while her body shook and climaxed over the edge. “Harry!” She called out his name and gripped his arm to sink her nails into as the overwhelming sensation coursed through her. Her whole body quivered until it rode out the orgasm as she writhed under his fingers, releasing a cascade of moans.

A pair of soft lips kissed her forehead making her eyes open to see Harry straddling between her legs and rubbing his member up and down her wet slit. “Sorry, love. You needed to cum to relax.”

“Harry?” Alexa reached down and grasped him again, taking control of him. “I haven’t had anyone this big before.” Alexa voiced her concern that was circling in her eyes.

“I figured…” Harry displayed a proud smirk on his lips that earned him a playful swat across his chest. He felt accomplished that he made Alexa orgasm by his fingers and mouth. “I needed you to be relaxed enough to take me. We can go slow.” The prince understood her concern.

“You ready?” He towered over her body and brushed away the stray blonde hair off of her face. Alexa nodded silently while looking up into his blue eyes longingly. She loved the thought that he was always checking in with her to make sure she was ok. Little things like that made her trust the prince more and felt safe to be vulnerable with him.

“Good. Because I cannot wait any longer to have you.” Harry’s lips spread into a smirk before tugging on Alexa’s lips one more time. Alexa released him and gave back all his control as he tried to calm her nerves.

Harry ran the tip of his cock up and down her wet pussy a few more times. But, he saw Alexa’s thighs tense up. “Relax, Alexa.” He urged her too as she breathed out feeling him kiss down her thigh to send a shiver up her body.

The weight of his body comfortably sat on top of Alexa while her hands gripped his forearms to brace herself. Harry locked in Alexa’s eyes as he pressed the tip of his member inside her slowly as her pussy engulfed him. Alexa cried out in pain as her insides clenched around him and pulsed. “God, you are so tight.” He stopped and gave her time to adjust before moving further inside as her tight pussy gripped and pulled him in further.

Harry tugged on her lips in an attempt to distract Alexa as he slid in all the way, filling her completely with his cock. Alexa’s nails dug into Harry’s back as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her breath hitched having never felt this full before in her life. She felt his fingers trace along her cheeks down to her jaw bone as a look of concern replaced the desire in his eyes.

“Are you ok?” Harry felt her stretching to accommodate his large member. To be frank, she was the tightest he ever had and he thought he did well to prepare her, but that painful expression on her face had started to soften.

“Harry, I’m fine.” She breathed out and gently stroked his cheek, seeing the concern fade from his face.

He bucked his hips slowly gaining a steady rhythm as Alexa’s cries were replaced with lust filled moans. Harry captured them in his mouth as their bodies became synched in a steady rhythm. Alexa’s ankles dug into Harry’s ass and pushed himself in deeper making her toes curl and back arch up to meet his thrusts. Harry’s arms wrapped around her waist and picked up her legs giving a couple of hard thrusts as he plunged into her pussy making her tits bounce.

Harry’s strong hands trailed up to her back and lifted her body up as she fully sat down on him with a gasp. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and stifled her moans against him, pumping up into her while holding Alexa securely against him. Her hard nipples scraped against his chest with each thrust causing Harry to devour one of them in his mouth. Alexa lifted her head, locking eyes with the prince. She cupped his cheeks tenderly and stared into his eyes as she felt Harry fill her completely over and over again.

Their bodies became one as they moved against one on another while their longing gaze lingered. Alexa stroked Harry’s cheek gently with her delicate hands as they moved into his ginger hair to grip it tightly as he picked up the speed, bouncing Alexa off of him.

He buried his head into her chest, inhaling her sweet scent while her delicious moans filled his ears. The prince kissed his way back up to her neck and gently balled up a fist full of hair, tugging on it to gain more access to her neck. Alexa moaned and melted into the confines of Harry’s arms as their pace slowed into a passion fueled state.

“Harry….” Alexa moaned his name as he deeply thrusted into her body. “Ahhh.” Even with his slow deliberate movements, he filled her with every thrust.

“Fuck, Alexa.” Harry could hardly handle her sexy moans as I drove him further into a frenzy. He ensured he had a good grasp on her body as the prince laid her back down on top of the bed.

Harry glanced down at his naked girlfriend smirked. “God, you are so beautiful.” The smile that appeared on her lips was one he committed to his memory. “I can’t wait to watch you cum again.” His smirk morphed into a devilish grin as he picked up her legs and started fucking her harder.

The string of endless moans that escaped Alexa’s lips in combination of the sounds of their skin slapping together made Harry nearly cum right there. “Babe, I want you to cum with me.” He dropped her legs as she innately wrapped herself around him without Harry missing one beat and continued his pounding.

He grabbed Alexa’s hands to hold them above her head as their fingers intertwined and clenched their fists together tightly. Alexa’s lips brushed against Harry’s as he smiled with a crooked grin, enjoying the sight before him. She stifled a whimper as she clenched around him sensing the beginning of her climax. Alexa turned her head and bit down on her lower lip trying to make herself last longer, but the way Harry was driving his hips into her wildly forced her to give in.

“Harry… I can’t….” Alexa shrieked while her pussy pulsed around Harry’s member nearly tossing him over the edge with her. He held on as long as he could while her body writhed beneath him. His strong hands cradled her delicate frame as she allowed her body to be overtaken from her orgasm that coursed through, causing her to quiver around his waist.

Alexa breathed out breathlessly as she bucked her hips one more time against Harry and that made his member hit another sensitive spot within her. She locked in his gaze and saw the contorted face as he tried to contain himself until Alexa was finished. Her hands cupped his cheeks, keeping his deep blue eyes locked with hers.

Harry thrusted as in as deep as he could one last time and felt her contract around him again. He slowly slipped himself out of his girlfriend as a pair of soft hands grasped him and sent him over the edge. “Fuck, Alexa. I am going to cum.” The prince’s moan was so low it was almost a growl. With gentle strokes he felt himself release rope after rope of white sticky cum onto her abdomen, groaning as he emptied his balls onto her.

Alexa’s pussy ached, missing that feeling of being so full she could hardly bare it as the void left in her brought her mind back to reality. Stroking his hard cock she watched him unravel as his moans brought a cheeky smile onto her lips knowing she was the one that caused him to orgasm.

The prince regained composure and tilted his head seeing that smirk grow on her soft lips. “Yes, love. That’s what you did to me.” He brought his lips down to kiss her delicately as the weight of his body collapsed on top of her.

Harry rolled onto his side allowing Alexa to get out of bed to clean herself off. His eyes were glued to her backside noticing little red marks on her bottom while she walked into his bathroom naked. Within a couple minutes, Alexa came crawling back into bed with the prince beaming from ear to ear.

END MATURE*

Harry lifted his arm up in the air so Alexa could snuggle into his warm body while she lied on her side. She placed the palm of her hand on his chest and released a deep sigh alerting the prince as he looked down to see if she was alright.

“Alexa?” His deep voice caused her head to lift to reveal the smile that stayed stagnant on her lips.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ok?” The concern flashed across his face as his free hand started to stroke through her blonde hair.

“Yeah. More than ok.” Her green eyes fluttered as she maneuver her body high enough to lock lips with Harry. “That was… amazing.” Alexa confessed with a light giggle as her cheeks flushed with a crimson blush.

“That was pretty great.” Harry lightly laughed with her. “No regrets?”

Alexa did not hesitate in shaking her head. “No, none.” She stared up fondly into his blue eyes as they laid there in silence, neither one wanting to go to sleep yet. So instead, they sat up and cuddled with one another and talked late into the night.

Alexa had dozed off first with her head resting on Harry’s chest with one leg strewn across his body. He was wide awake watching her sleep soundly, but his mind could not stop thinking of how to protect her from what was to surely come. He felt the cool skin on her arms and pulled up his comforter higher to cover her up past her exposed breasts. She shifted in his arms with a light moan and snuggled her head back into the crook of his neck.

The prince was caught off guard the night that he locked eyes with Alexa across the bar, but he could no help but smile seeing her sleeping peacefully wrapped up in his arms. But, when morning came she would be known to the world as Eugenie’s maid of honor. Harry hoped that the news would pass over quickly and the media would focus on Eugenie instead of Alexa. For the time being, Alexa was safe in his arms and that thought was the only thing he could hold onto as his eyes drifted off into a deep sleep.

————————

Harry rubbed his tired eyes, careful not to wake up his girlfriend that was still fast asleep. Alexa had woke him up in the middle of the night by mounting Harry and having sex for the second time that night. Hence, why they were still asleep at ten am. Hearing a buzzing sound, Harry looked towards the bedside table watching Alexa’s phone going off like crazy.

He sighed knowing that the news had been released. Harry’s eyes drifted down to the woman sleeping in his arms, praying that she would sleep a while longer for when she woke up, her world would be a different place than she could ever imagine.

He carefully leaned over and picked up her phone and saw multiple missed calls from her father and texts from her family and friends. His shift in weight caused Alexa’s eyes to flutter open as she moaned deeply feeling the light peaking through his curtains assault her eyes.

“Mmmmm.” She wiggled in his arms and frowned causing the prince to laugh.

“Not so much a morning person now Lex, huh?” He smiled before leaning down to press his lips against her forehead.

“Morning boyfriend.” Alexa opened her eyes and found Harry’s lips, tugging down on them softly. She reached up and played with his hair, innocently forgetting about the release. But, Harry could not hide the frown that wrinkled his forehead.

“Harry?” Alexa angled her head up at him with concern growing on her face. “What’s wrong?”

The prince closed his blue eyes and mustered the courage within himself to tell her. This was what he had planned with Eugenie. That he would be there with Alexa when the news were to be released. “Alexa.” He opened them and stared down at his girlfriend who put two and two together.

“The release…” Alexa confirmed her suspicions as Harry nodded. She sat up and looked around for her phone and then back to Harry who was holding it out for her in his hand.

“Your father keeps calling you.” He watched as her shaky hand took the phone from him and unlocked it to scroll through all the missed calls and texts. Alexa sighed and felt immediately overwhelmed at the bombardment of questions. She accidentally clicked on a link that one of her friends had sent her and opened out about an article already written about her.

Harry could see her reading something on her phone as she attempted to hide her facial reactions from him. “You shouldn’t read that.” He tried to intervene seeing the title of the article.

‘Princess Eugenie’s Maid of Honor, a commoner. Who is Alexa Grey and where did she come from?’

“They already know where I went to school, where I did my internship, my degrees.” Her finger continued to scroll through the article. “Oh look, they even got pictures from my private instagram.” Alexa laughed nervously as she did not know how to react to all of this.

“Shit. My dad is calling.” Alexa rejected his call and tossed the phone out into the hallway as it scraped along his hardwood floor. “I can’t deal with that right now.”

“Alexa…” Harry softly scolded her. “You should talk to him. He’s probably worried ab-”

“No don’t.” She held up her finger to silence him, not wanting to discuss it further. “I’m fine, ok?” Alexa scrambled out of the bed and grabbed a towel. “I am going to take a shower and then I will.” The bathroom door slammed closed leaving Harry lying in his bed knowing fully well that Alexa was far from fine.

A few minutes later…

Alexa felt the hot warm trickle down her body as she tried to forget all the comments that she had read below the article. Harry was not aware of the fact that she quickly scrolled through them and the harsh words she had read still stung in her mind. She needed some time alone to get her head sorted before she could even comprehend calling her family. Alexa had forgotten to even tell them about the release as she was focused on other things, that the shock was probably more concerning to them.

The bathroom door creaked open as Alexa could hear heavy footsteps walking towards her. Alexa was facing away from the shower entrance when she felt a cool air hit her body, indicating that Harry was coming in with her. He silently stepped in behind Alexa and kissed her shoulder, not wanting to interrupt her thoughts, but wanting her to know he was there.

Alexa immediately turned around and peaked up at the prince to see the water trickling down his naked body. His blue eyes were full of concern, as his brow remained furrowed. Their eyes held a silent conversation as Alexa attempted not to lose control of the composure she attempted to find the past few minutes.

She stepped forward and his arms lifted wrapping around her wet body as she rested her head on his muscular chest. Alexa closed her eyes as the prince combed through her wet hair and moved them closer to the heat of the water that bounced off their conjoined bodies.

The security she felt with Harry instantly calmed the blonde down. No words were spoken as the comfortable silence between them allowed Alexa to sort through her thoughts and come to terms with it all. Her hands rubbed up and down Harry’s back while picking her head off of his chest to gaze up at her boyfriend who was already looking down at her.

“I just want a little time.” She broke the silence and confessed, swallowing the lump in her throat. “To be with you and not worry today after the amazing night we had last night.”

Harry nodded with an understanding look. “I know you do. But, at some point you are going to have to face it. I think things with fly over quick, but I can’t predict anything.” He leaned in and kissed her temple gently.

“This means we have to be really careful now right?” The hint of sadness in her eyes made Harry’s heart ache in his chest at what she was referring to.

“Don’t worry about that now. I still have a few days to have you all to myself.” He chuckled and brought a beaming smile back onto her lips.

“Does that include shower sex?” Alexa winked at the prince and bit down on her lower lip at the thought of it. Alexa longed for a distraction.

“God, woman!” Harry shook his head at his girlfriend. “Can I not satisfy you? You are insatiable!” The prince knew this was a tactic for distraction, but he was willing to do whatever he could to help Alexa.

“Well, now that I got a taste of the crown jewels… I want more.” Alexa looked up with desire building in her eyes.

“Come here, sexy.” Harry groaned as he bent down and picked up Alexa in his arms.

[polynymph]

What Once Was Chapter 5

Again, not supposed to be this long! I hope you enjoy!

TW: brief mentions of scars

The same dream…same dark stone road, same rust colored sand, and same green sky. This time the dark clouds seem heavier than before. However, Armyah is alone. The wind blows grit into her eyes, stinging them as she searches the vast landscape for her teacher. She squints ahead, Asra and the strange beast are too far for her to reach. She tries to call to him, but her voice is swallowed by the void. She looks harder; they’re at a standstill, side by side at a fork in the road. The many-legged creature looks longingly at Asra and turns down the eastern path, disappearing into the tempestuous sea of sand. The young man turns to the path leading west. Something in her chest tells her he is going the wrong way.

“Arsa!” she calls out, even if it’s useless, “not that way! Not again!” His head turns. Even from the great distance she can feel their eyes meet. She drives herself forward to reach out until she’s close enough to grab his hand. When he turns on her, his eyes are wide with wonder. Then, everything around them dissolves and falls away. Somehow, it’s yesterday. Armyah is sweeping up a mess of powdered bat milk wen Arsa wanders out from the back room.

“Armyah!” he exclaims excitedly, “Wait until you see what the woods had to offer today!” One by one, he unloads his bag onto the counter: mushrooms, fruit, roots, and flowers. He leans on his elbows with is fist under his chin, obviously proud of himself.

“Wow…” his apprentice muses, “this is…this is more than we need.” He frowns, that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for.

“Well, I thought it’d be better to have plenty,” he looks away, guilty, “I don’t want to leave you here with nothing to eat but pumpkin bread.” He offers her a goldberry and she graciously pops it into her mouth, but she tastes nothing. She remembers now…this was the moment before he packed his bag to go.

“I want to come with you,” she blurts out, unthinking. He spares her a pitiful smile and brings his gentle hands on either side of her face. His violet eyes bore into her.

“I know…I wish I could take you,” he replies softly, “It’s just too risky.” Of course. Wherever he goes, it’s too far, too fast, too risky for her to go, but for him it’s fine. “Next time…” he promises. It’s empty, he’ll say the same thing the next time, then the time after that. He doesn’t get it.

“I’m sick and tired of being left behind,” she shouts, prying his hands from her face, “and I’m through with you leaving all of the time. Why the secrecy? Where are you going that I can never know and never come with you?” He doesn’t dare meet her gaze. He wants to tell her…tell her that he can’t bare the thought of losing her again, that he’s guilty that he wasn’t there for her before…before…

“You’re more honest in dreams, aren’t you?” He smiles sadly, his eyes misty. Once the words left his mouth the room starts to pulse and colors shift. Of course it’s a dream. He’s already gone, and she has no idea when he’ll be back. He and the shop around him fades away into darkness and replace with blinding light. Armyah opens her eyes with a groan.

“Good morning!” a sing-songy voice fills the room. For a moment, the magician forgot where she was, but she remembers as soon as she see’s Portia she remembers. The Countess, the palace, being recruited to find a murderer no one has seen in years. “What a lovely sunrise…” the young woman muses, “Did you sleep well?” Armyah smiled and nodded, it wasn’t true. Truthfully, she feels like she was trampled by a horse. “I hope the dogs didn’t wake you last night. Something set them off, they were causing a ruckus. Sniffing around the garden of all places.” Armyah gulped, she hoped it wasn’t because of her wandering. More importantly, she hoped Faust was okay. “I was afraid we had an intruder! Wouldn’t that be exactly what we need right now?” Portia rolled her eyes sarcastically. She was so animated; the fortune-teller couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I didn’t find anything, thank the gods. The only thing I had on hand was a shovel. That could’ve gotten ugly.” The servant chuckled before waving a hand away. “Anyway, breakfast will be served shortly. I’ll let you freshen up, then we’ll head over.” She gestures over to a basin of water and a washing cloth under the window and heads toward the door. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Portia hands Armyah folded garments of pastel blue/green with accented gold. “The Countess has requested that you bring your cards with you and I have explicit orders to make sure you’re not wearing the same thing you were wearing last night.” The magician would’ve been offended but looking down she could see her clothes were dirty and disheveled. “I’ll give you some privacy. Shoes are by the door.”

The door shuts carefully behind her. Sure enough, strapped, gold heels sat intimidatingly next to where Portia exited. She considers wearing her original outfit anyways, but she doesn’t want Portia to get in trouble. She’s only known the girl half of a day, but she does like her. She disrobes and hangs her ragged garments on the changing screen. She takes the washing cloth and soaks it in the lukewarm water. Running the terrycloth over her arms and chest, then down the length of her body and over her scars.

Her scars…the tiger stripes above her breasts and on her hips and upper thighs. She isn’t sure how they got there, but she woke up three years ago with them. She’s asked Asra about them, but if he knows where they came from he doesn’t say. He refuses to talk about them if she brings them up. Shaking the melancholy thoughts from her mind, she slips on the dress. The new dress is long sleeved and falls just above her knees. The magician feels practically naked in the new outfit but clasps the gold belt around her waist regardless. The fabric is light and soft like a gentle breeze. She stands before the mirror on the wall, but far enough away so she can see the whole ensemble sans shoes. She looks ridiculous, but she’s a guest so anything to make her host happy, right? Then comes the shoes…Armyah has never worn heels. She contemplates skipping the sandals all together, but then she’d be in her regular dark flats or barefoot. She grabs the footwear and plops on the bed. She slips them on her now-clean feet and buckles them, using the bed to steady herself she takes a few practice steps. They’re not especially high, but they weren’t what she was used to. Treading carefully as to not trip she grabs her bag, peeking inside to make sure Faust isn’t hiding inside. With no snake in sight she pulls the bag over her shoulder and goes to meet Portia in the hallway.

“Ooooh! You look beautiful!” There’s sincerity in her voice that warms Armyah’s heart and boosts her confidence, albeit slightly. “The Countess has a real eye for fashion. She’ll definitely be pleased.” Portia ushered the magician down the hallway to the dining room. It’s bright and servants are bustling to and fro. The Countess is already seated at the head of the table when they enter, her finely-jeweled fingers massaging her temples. She seems to be nursing a headache.

“Good morning, Armyah, Portia,” she greeted politely, though through clenched teeth as the young woman seated herself in the same chair as last night. “I trust you slept well?” She didn’t wait for the fortune-teller to answer. “Well, I had an exceptionally miserable night. The dreams were…vivid. Enough to frighten me awake, yet I cannot remember any of them.” She inhales deeply. “Then, of course, the dogs were feeling active.”

“Coffee, milady?” Portia offered with a sympathetic smile.

“Ugh, please,” the Countess sighed desperately. Portia brings over a gleaming, golden contraption that was nestled in the far corner, brings it to the porcelain saucer in front of the Countess and pours until it’s full of the dark, rich drink. “Ah! You’ve changed!” her sour expression lightens, “Is that the ensemble I sent down?” Armyah flushed and sank into her seat at her weighted stare, willing herself to disappear. “My, my, the difference is astounding. One would hardly recognize you!” Portia offers the golden carafe and a compassionate smile; the magician’s anxiety is almost palpable. Armyah barely shakes her head and she doesn’t take her eyes off the empty plate in front of her. Suddenly, she’s not very hungry. “The fit appears correct. Those garments you came with were most unkind to you.” She feels tears prickle behind her eyes under the Countess’s shameless scrutiny, but she blinks them away. Her ladyship doesn’t notice. “…and how the sea green compliments your skin tone. Who would’ve guessed that you were so becoming underneath?”

“Breakfast is served!” Portia announced loudly as the servers brought out a lavish egg dish. From the confused look on the Countess’s face, she had never done that before. Luckily, the blue-feathered servant from last night stole the Countess’s attention with a report of some goings-on. Meanwhile, Portia pretended to fill Armyah’s glass. “You okay?” she asked reassuringly. The magician smiles slightly and nods.

“Thanks…” she whispers. The servant gave her a friendly wink.

“Anytime.” Portia goes back to doing her regular duties, leaving Armyah to push her eggs around the plate with a fork. Her eyes flicker to the painting across from her, the ruby eyes of the goat-headed character seems to be watching her.

“Well, you may tell them that they have no choice in the matter,” the Countess declared, matter-of-factly. “That will be all. Now then…Armyah.” The Countess’s voice breaks her from her thoughts. “I understand that you have your cards with you?” Cautiously, the fortune-teller pulls her bag from the floor next to her and rests it on her lap. “Splendid! Please, come closer.” The servants took her uneaten breakfast and relocated her to the Countess’s side. “First and foremost, we will be celebrating the Count’s birthday in thirteen days. Preparations are already underway, as you know. So, I must ask you to be expedient in this?” She makes catching a criminal in two weeks sound like it’s no great feat. “It is not my intention to rush you, but by the same time I will need to know whether or not you intend to cooperate with me.” Armyah frowned, was she not already “cooperating” by leaving her shop, her home, to stay at the palace and give her ladyship readings as she pleased? “Unless…you have decided to do so already?” The magician made the mistake of looking to the Countess. Her stare was relentless so Armyah did what she does best…panicked.

“Y-yes?” That was a mistake. She didn’t even have the full story about the murder or the events leading up to it. Regardless of her uncertainty in her voice the Countess smiles, satisfied with her answer.

“A wise choice. I am pleased to here it.” She places a many-ringed hand on the table near the fortune-teller. “If you serve me well, you will have my utmost gratitude and, of course, a generous reward.” Armyah perked up at the mention of the reward. She didn’t want to assume she would be compensated, but she’s relieved to hear it. “Ah, that eager face will be my undoing,” the Countess chuckled, “and yours if you don’t learn to master it.” She smiles almost proudly, “together, we will make a fine team, Armyah. Our forces combined are quite formidable: you and I, my guard, and those cards of yours.” Her garnet eyes travel to the bag still on the magician’s lap and the young woman instinctively pulls it closer to her chest. “Speaking of which…” She didn’t even have to finish, Armyah knew what she wanted. She retrieved the deck from the bottom of the bag and placed it hesitantly on the table. The Countess’s eyes flash with interest. She smiles, looking out the dining room window with a musical sigh.

“It’s a glorious morning, a new day,” she looks back to the fortune-teller, “I trust that my fortune will have changed?” She says that as if Armyah controlled the cards. Sometimes, it feels like the other way around. “Read the cards for me again, Armyah. I would like to hear what they have to share on this fortuitous day.” The magician shuffles the deck, focusing on the cards in her hands. They leave a faint tingling on her fingertips, it’s a little distracting. She places three cards from the top in front of the Countess. She chooses the one closest to Armyah on her right. The yellow eyes of the bull-like character stare back at her.

“The Emperor,” the fortune-teller reveals.

“And what does he say for me?” The Countess urged. Something wasn’t right. There was no fog, no whispers. Armyah was too anxious and overwhelmed by all the events that have transpired so quickly that she couldn’t empty her mind. She couldn’t hear the cards. She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t dare disappoint the Countess. She could do this, she knows the Emperor means to oversee your own destiny. She can try and make something up?

“You…um…” she panicked, “You have…proven your wisdom, your…intelligence and ability to rule.” She was tentative in her reading, she hoped the Countess didn’t notice. “Your lessers no longer hesitate to bow before you. Where there was doubt, you have built trust. Where there was chaos, you’ve made order…When your will is done the city will sing your praises and…celebrate as it never as before!” There was a collective fluttering of oohs and aahs from the servants watching. Their faces were radiant with delight and Portia’s hand rested on her heart. Armyah breaths a sigh of relief; she thinks she convinced everyone enough. That is, until she looks at the Countess. She’s unimpressed. She lifts the card from the table and examines it with a neutral eye.

“Well, that is all very good of him to say.” Armyah tries to blend in with the chair she is sitting in. Abruptly, the Countess stands, and the servants snap to attention. “Arymah, would you care to join me for a stroll?” She was already to the door to the hallway; the magician could tell she really didn’t have a choice. “There is something I would like to show you.” Armyah gathers her cards, clambers to her feet tripping on the heels in the meantime, and follows the Countess while hoisting her bag onto her shoulder. Portia falls in step behind them as they exited the dining room. It takes some effort for the magician to keep up with the Countess’s swift gait. Looking around, her surroundings start to look familiar. The wide, marble staircase from the night before. She finds herself searching for the hounds as they pass. They aren’t there or, perhaps, they’re curled up in the shadows out of sight.

“The dogs are having their breakfast right about now,” Portia whispers from behind her as if she was reading the magician’s mind.

“Yes,” the Countess interjected, “Portia said you seem to have a kinship with animals. Even the security eels.” She slows her stride to walk side by side with Armyah, “I find them rather enchanting as well. Though they are quite unhappy here. Their native climate is deep in the Southern, icy waters.” Armyah remembers the graceful way the creature under the bridge twisted into the mud. “Anyway…here we are.” The Countess comes to a halt before a large panel in the wall crafted from smooth wood in colors of rippling amber and carved with dizzying intricacy is a great tree. Its winding roots coil around each other all the way to the floor. Leaves and fruits are inlaid with glittering jewels, precious stones, and mother of pearl gleaming from every angle. “Portia, if you would be so kind?” the Countess commended.

“Of course,” she replied with a nod. A large key ring emerged from her pocket. There were about a dozen keys, each carved of the same wood as the panel and bearing a distinct jewel. One by one, she finds the locks in the panel with ease. With each turn, the roots of the tree start unwinding from each other. Once all the roots are untangled, the panel folds in on itself like a paper fan. The room before her causes Armyah’s breath to catch in her chest.

A library filled to its brim with books and greenery and a large stained-glass window decorated with reds and greens in the center of it all. Underneath the window was an overgrown fire place with ragged chairs resting around it, long since used and the books! Bookshelves filled to the high ceilings with tomes of all shape, size, and color. Tall, crisp volumes on mathematics beside broad leather atlases of faraway lands; each one with years, maybe lifetimes of wisdom to share. Asra has told her about places like these, but she never dreamed she would see one for herself.

“Do you read, Armyah?” the Countess asked, amused by the magician’s reaction to the desolate room. Only an absentminded nod was her reply, Armyah was still taking in the sight. “Ah, I suspected that you might.” She follows the awe-struck fortune-teller further into the room and the door closes behind Portia as she steps in behind them fidgeting with the ring of keys. “It’s a great gift, to read. Where I come from it is shared among all citizens, regardless of birth.” Armyah is barely paying attention, she wants to dive into the shelves and disappear amid the aged parchment. “Woefully uncommon here. I suppose you were taught by your master? They say the two of you are very close.” The magician turns on the Countess, brows furrowed. What was she insinuating? How close are two people to be after one wakes up in the other’s arms with no memory other than her name.

“Milady is in a teasing mood,” Portia interjected quickly. The Countess merely chuckles.

“Indeed…” she turns on her heels, “this way, if you please.” Armyah’s expression softens as she follows. “You know, Armyah…you are my guest. If you should like to return here, you need only ask.” Portia jingles the keys, smiling as if to punctuate the Countess’s point. “But for the moment, I would have your undivided attention here…” Huddled in an alcove between bookshelves, almost hidden, is a desk under a tiny window that casts a slim ray of daylight on the surface. Books, journals, and papers are scattered over it. Despite the clutter, everything is in a specific place.

“An organized mess.” Armyah’s hand flies to her temple as she winces at the stabbing pain behind her eyes at the thought. Someone told her that phrase…but she can’t remember who or in what context.

“Armyah?” Portia looks to her with concern.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, a little too quickly. Neither women pressed further.

“Armyah, do you know why Doctor Devorak came to the palace?” the Countess asked, “I suppose you would…after all, your master was here for the same purpose.” He was? If Asra was ever at the palace he never mentioned it. “To concoct a cure for the plague.” The Red Plague swept through the city like wildfire. It claimed young and old, frail and strong. There was no way to tell who would be the next to fall. Cases were very rare now. The magician can’t remember the last time she saw the telltale red in the whites of someone’s eyes. Asra had told her about it, but she only woke up toward the end of the epidemic. “As you know, the Count and I called upon the city, whoever might be of use in this quest,” the Countess explained, “Physicians, scientists, alchemists, witches…even fortune-tellers were invited to the palace in hopes that our resources may aid in their research.” She stepped around to the other side of the desk opposite Armyah, careful not to disturb anything. “Whosoever was able to find the cure, the city and the palace both would be forever in their debt. The doctor accepted our invitation…perhaps he was plotting even then.” She gave the magician a knowing smile, “as did your master, Asra.” She looks out the window, a strange shadow was cast itself across her face. Curious, Armyah leaned forward to see out the small opening. Strangely, it’s in a perfect spot to see the willow tree that hangs over the gazing pool she had used to contact Asra the night before, although accidentally. “While they toiled away in search of a cure, the palace provided everything they might need.” The Countess rested her hand atop one of the many texts gathering dust. “This very desk belonged to Doctor Devorak. I have had its contents examined laboriously, nothing of consequence has been found.” She sighed, defeated, “but with such a volume of evidence, something may yet be hiding here.” Her touch lingers on a well-won tome. “Perhaps you will have better luck than I in finding it?” She passes the fortune-teller, perfuming the air with jasmine.

“Good luck,” Portia whispers before following the Countess out of the library, the door unfolding itself behind them. Armyah is left in silence, alone with the doctor’s desk. What did they expect? She would pick up a possession of his and she would follow a trail of magic to him like a bloodhound? Now that she thinks about it, that might work. She has never used magic in that way, but she doesn’t see why it isn’t possible. She leans over the desk; a stack of books, a leather-bound folio, and a handful of scrolls tucked away in a little row of drawers. Some of the books were threadbare in their bindings while others were of rich leather and leafed with gold. She picks up and flips through a particularly well-loved tome. It appeared to be a surgical guide. However, some of the diagrams are stained with blood. Some pages were littered with cartoonish illustrations. One particular drawing of a physician using a curled tool to bleed a patient has a large, black X through it and “No!” scribbled beside it. His writing has a distinct quality of frenzy and frustration, but she admired his passion in finding a cure for the terrible disease. Closing the book, Armyah places it back on the stack where she found it and turned her attention to the scrolls. The parchment is soft, almost powdery, on her fingertips as she unfurls it. It’s written in the same hurried, fluid scrawl as she saw in the doctor’s notes. It’s almost completely undecipherable except for a dense swath of cursive: a single letter J. A signature? If it was signed at the bottom it was sure to be addressed at the top…Sure enough, a scribble at the upper corner of the page barely makes out Dear Sister. Did the doctor even have a sister? As far as anyone knew, he was a bachelor with no family to speak of. The magician is unsure what to so with this new information, but she rolls up the paper and tucks it carefully into her bag.

“Armyah?” a musical voice behind her makes her jump. The back panel parts, unfolding to reveal Portia. “I hope I didn’t startle you, but there’s something going on out by the garden.” The servant girl gestures for her to follow, “the Countess is requesting your presence at once.” Armyah pushes off the desk to follow Portia, “Did you find anything interesting?” The fortune-teller shakes her head, it wasn’t a total lie. Nothing she found was relevant for the Countess. “Well, it’ll take a while to go through everything…you can try again later.” She links her arm with Armyah’s and leads her through the panel in the wall, the mechanical sound of it closing fades behind them. “I’ve got the keys, so you can find me the next time you want to have a look!” Portia’s pace is leisurely as she walks with the magician. She talks about nothing in particular, but Armyah likes that about her. It’s easy to get lost in the animated way she tells stories. She leads the fortune-teller to the veranda over-looking the garden that seems livelier in the day. A symphony of birdsong echoes from every direction. She spots the Countess looking out over the garden, her hands held sagely behind her back.

“Forgive me for drawing you away from your investigation, Armyah,” her tone is patient, leveled, “it just so happens that I was thinking about that fortune you gave me earlier.” She turns to face the magician, her face mysteriously neutral. “Rumor would have it that I dislike fortune-tellers, but this is not entirely true…I only dislike those that profit by saying whatever they want to say or by telling their clients whatever they want to hear.” She fixes a gaze of gentle disappointment on the fortune-teller. Armyah’s heart drops into her stomach and her face flushes almost as crimson as the Countess’s eyes. “I want desperately to believe that you are neither, Armyah. But, if we are to succeed in our little venture, I must trust in your skill. That being said…” She gestures broadly to the gardens beneath her, “I have devised a test. More of a game, really. If you win, then we may move forward with our plans and I need never doubt your worth again.”

“And if I lose?” Armyah spits venomously, insulted. She hardly thought one fudged fortune was worth all this.

“If you lose you are free to go, and I shall trouble you no further.” She knew the magician was offended, but she made no mention or acknowledgment toward it. “Now then, let us summon your competitors. Portia, would you kindly call in the prey?” The girl looked confused.

“Prey?” then, realization struck her, “Oh! The outfits make sense now.” Portia goes out to the edge of the balcony, takes a deep breath, and releases an ear-piercing whistle. As Armyah moved to the balustrade to find to figures shuffling, embarrassed, dressed head to toe in fanciful costumes. One a rabbit and the other a deer.

“The game is to hide and hunt,” the Countess explained as she moved behind the magician to peer at the two participants. “Armyah, you will be the hunter and these two your prey. You need not hesitate on your behalf, they have earned their place.” She motioned to the costumed individuals and they removed their masks to reveal their faces as the two guard from the bridge the night before.

“Milady, please,” the rabbit pleaded, “this is embarrassing…”

“You are embarrassing.” She spat, “have you already forgotten how beastly you were to our guest? It’s only fitting that you should be dressed as such.” The guards drop to a humble kneel, begging forgiveness. The Countess turns to Armyah, almost as if she were waiting for her to object. She doesn’t, if it’s a game she wants, it’s a game she’ll get. “Now for the purpose of our little game. This morning, at breakfast, I found myself considering the task at hand.” She clasps her hands behind her back and paces across the veranda as she speaks. “We seek to find one man in a city of thousands. A city where gossip moves more swiftly than we possibly could. Daunting, but not impossible. Fate has already drawn him back to town for us.” Armyah notices Portia perk up in the corner of her eye. “But for what purpose and for how long? Our window of opportunity may be quite slim.” The Countess pauses to face the magician, “I came to the conclusion that we must not pursue him without knowing exactly where to look. Easier said than done, of course. The doctor’s desk may very well hold the key, but how long before we find it? And then I thought, perhaps we might use what we have in another way…” Armyah finds herself growing more and more impatient as the Countess drones on. “Perhaps we might use magic.” She pauses, gauging the magician’s reaction. The Countess continues when she doesn’t reply. “Is it not possible that something in that desk holds meaning to the doctor? An attachment that might linger to this day?” Armyah’s mind immediately goes to the Dear Sister letter in her bag. “Even a single leaf of paper may possess a tether to his soul that a magician need only follow it. If it is possible, is your magic refined enough to do it?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, “if you have never done such a thing before, worry not. You are about to do just that. Each of your prey will be trying to evade you; moving targets, as the doctor will be, and your goal is to hunt one of them down.” The Countess smiles mischievously, “one of them to whom I have given a signal leaf of paper…your Emperor card.” Armyah’s face goes hot, her eyes wide. This morning, at the reading…She took the card from the table to examine it and never gave it back. Panic flood through her veins, to lose one of Asra’s major Arcana! The magician has half a mind to demand her card back, leave and never return. No, she’ll play this little game and she’ll win.

“Now then,” she says patiently, “do you understand the instructions? It’s quite simple, just find the guard carrying your Emperor card before the day is out. So long as you can do this, I’m confident you’ll be able to lead me to the doctor’s door.” She reaches out to rest a hand on the magician’s shoulder, but she steps back with a venomous glare. The Countess doesn’t look surprised. Wordlessly, she moves to the balustrade. “You! Down There!” she addresses the guards again and they snap to attention, “run, run as if your capture were to mean your imminent death.” They both looked at each other for a moment before bolting in opposite directions. The Countess turns to Armyah, “you may start on my mark, you have until dawn.” The echoes of foot-falls almost fade completely. She nods and the magician dashes down the stairs to the gardens after the costumed guards. “Oh, and Armyah?” The Countess calls out causing the magician to pause and look to her. “I implore you not to disappoint me.” Armyah scoffs, frustrated at the situation. All this because of a reading she didn’t like? Or was this her plan all along?

If this was her plan, then why in the Gods’ name did she give the magician heels?

Let me know how I’m doing!

 Tag List: @julians-chest-hair

[chanelypop-blog]

The Past (Sweet Pea X Reader)

* * * * * * * *

Riverdale Imagine

Sweet Pea

Italics are past events

* * * * * * * *

Sweet Pea didn't care for many things, though he did care for the Serpents, his friends and her, Y/N.

Y/N wasn't one to stand out in the crowd, she wasn't a River Vixen, she wasn't a musician, she wasn't extremely intelligent, she didn't have terrible or abusive parents, she was just Y/N.

Sweet Pea would never forget the first time he met Y/N.

Archie had just been arrested, everyone who wasn't panicking were confused. When did Archie kill someone? Why would Archie kill someone?

Sweet Pea went looking for Fangs, curious to see if his friend knew what was happening. Instead of finding his friend he bumped into a girl. "Sorry" she mumbled as she continued to walk.

Sweet Pea stared at the girl confused. He had never seen her before, who was she? He was curious, he needed to know who she was, so he followed her.

"Wait!"

The girl increased her speed trying to move away from the Serpent, but he was faster. He grabbed her arm causing her to gasp.

"I won't hurt you. I promise." The words sounded sincere, but of course a killer wouldn't tell you they were going to hurt you.

Y/N turned around and her eyes locked with Sweet Pea's. 'She's beautiful'. He desperately wanted to tell her how beautiful he found her, though that would be creepy.

"You can let go now" her voice sounded almost robotic. He let go of her arm and her expression turned to one of annoyance. "Why did you follow me?"

Sweet Pea didn't know what to say. He couldn't just say "I've never seen you before and I grew curious, so followed you and now find you to be beautiful."

She looked at him her mouth opened slightly in shock. "Are you blind? I'm not beautiful."

Sweet Pea's eyes widened as he realised he spoke the words instead of thinking them. "Fuck."

Y/N chuckled. "I'm Y/N."  She put her hand out and he shook it. "Sweet Pea."

Sweet Pea smiled as he watched Y/N talk to Cheryl and Fangs. She wore a big smile as she spoke to them about something she clearly enjoyed.

Y/N wasn't afraid of the serpents, but she was wary. She kept up a wall, refusing to let anyone in. It took Sweet Pea a while to break through the wall, despite their summer 'fling'.

Cheryl hosted a pool party, because she wanted the core four to enjoy their time together before Archie went to jail, her words.

Surprisingly Y/N found herself invited, though she was unsure why.

Y/N sat by the pool wearing a black bikini. She wasn't shy about her body, sure she wasn't defined as skinny, she didn't have a flat stomach like everyone else, but she wasn't fat, she was curvy.

Sweet Pea entered the garden wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt. He instantly found Y/N sitting by herself. He sat down next to her.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait to go back to school" He said causing Y/N to laugh. "Really, why's that?" "Because I get to see you everyday in the corridors."

A sigh escaped Y/N mouth. "Sweet Pea, we agreed when we started this it was just a summer thing, a summer fling." "Yeah, but we've had fun right?" He squeezed her thigh causing her to shuffle slightly. "I'm not saying we haven't, it's just, we're different people. Everyone knows who you are, half the people here don't even know my name."

She lowered her head embarrassed. It was true, half the people at Riverdale High didn't know who she was, she was no one special.

Sweet Pea lifted up her head causing her to look in his eyes. "I think you're pretty cool." He pressed his lips against hers and she instantly kissed back. When she realised what she was doing she pulled away.

"Use that kiss to remember me."

Her laugh filled the room causing Sweet Pea's smile to widen. She was able to make anyone laugh, especially Fangs, who adored the girl.

Y/N's only real friend was Midge, the girl who Fangs fooled around with before the Black Hood killed her.

"You're staring" Jughead told him. Sweet Pea didn't look away from Y/N as he replied "How can I not?"

Sweet Pea walked through the corridor of the school, desperately searching for Y/N. He wanted to talk to her, to tell her to reconsider her decision. He was greeted with an unpleasant sight.

Ricardo, a fellow Serpent who once thought he was the top dog, at least before Sweet Pea knocked him out with a single punch, had backed Y/N into a locker. She didn't want to talk to him, it was clear to see, though he didn't get the message.

Sweet Pea went closer, ready to intervene and once he heard Ricard say "You haven't got a choice", he struck. Sweet Pea grabbed Ricardo by the collar and pinned him against the locker.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Sweet Pea's voice was loud attracting the attention of many other students. "Dude! What the fuck!" The boy was scared, terrified, though most of the serpents were afraid of Sweet Pea.

"She has a choice and her choice is for you to fuck off , I suggest you listen before I put your head through this locker! Now Apologise."

Ricardo looked at Y/N his eyes wide. "I'm sorry. I won't bother you again."

Sweet Pea threw the boy to the ground and went over to Y/N. "Are you okay?" She looked at him her eyes wide as multiple emotions ran through her body.

"Did he hurt-"

He didn't finish the sentence as Y/N hugged him. "Thank you." He smiled as he hugged her back, kissing her head. "You're welcome."

Jughead looked at Sweet Pea amused. He never thought the Serpent would fall so hard for a girl, especially one like Y/N. Y/N calmed him down, of course he still had his moments, but he wasn't as aggressive.

Sweet Pea helped Y/N realise it was okay to lose your temper once and a while, it was okay to be angry. She wasn't as robotic, she wasn't as afraid of feelings.

"You're perfect for each other" Jughead said causing Sweet Pea to smile. "I know."

The serpents were curious on why Sweet Pea stood up for Y/N, none more than Toni. She was desperate to know why Sweet Pea suddenly cared for a girl, one she had never seen or heard about.

"She's different." He would say no more than that, he wouldn't tell them what they did together, it was their secret.

Y/N walked through the corridor when someone grabbed her arm pulling her into a classroom. She was shocked as she saw two Serpents, one she knew to be Cheryl Blossom's girlfriend, the other Fangs Fogarty.

"Hi" she spoke her voice still robotic.

"How do you know Sweet Pea?" "Why did he defend you?"

The questions kept flying out of their mouths, Y/N couldn't hear them as they spoke so fast.

"Stop, stop." They stopped and looked at her, waiting for answers. "Sweet Pea saved me because he's a good guy." She didn't necessarily lie, he was a good guy, though that wasn't the reason he saved her.

"That's bullshit and we know it" Toni said.

The bell rang and Y/N stared at the two. "I'm late for class." She walked past them and Fangs whistled lowly. "She is hot."

Fangs span Y/N around causing Cheryl to laugh. "I'm surprised you're not jealous" Jughead said. "I have no reason to be jealous."

Sweet Pea trusted Y/N, she would never hurt him, not intentionally.

Y/N sat alone in the cafeteria, it was one of those days she forgot her lunch from home and had to eat something from the school cafeteria. A tray slammed down next to her causing her to roll her eyes.

"What do you want?"

She was expecting Sweet Pea to answer, though she was surprised when it was another boy. "I want to sit with a pretty girl." She looked at the Serpent, the infamous Fangs Fogarty.

"I repeat my question, what do you want?"

"You're cute, like I want to pinch your cheeks cute."  She looked at him offended. "Are you calling me fat?" His eyes widen as he realised how the statement sounded. "No, no, no, I mean you're cute, like an animal."

He slapped his hand on his forehead as he realised he was making everything worse. "I mean you're cute. Not like an animal, like a human." A  chuckle escaped her mouth. "Thanks."

"Have you got a boyfriend?"

Y/N's mind went straight to Sweet Pea. But why? He wasn't her boyfriend, they just slept together almost every day during summer, often multiple times a day.

"Have you?"

Y/N looked at him with a small smile. "I don't date."  He sighed. "That's too bad. I'd love to have you walking by my side, calling you mine."

Sweet Pea entered the cafeteria and instantly spotted Fangs sitting beside Y/N. Y/N wore a small smile while Fangs spoke to her. He was furious, but no one knew about what he and Y/N done during the summer.

Sweet Pea went over to the table, his face void of any emotion. "Since when do we sit here?" The two looked at him, both wearing similar expressions. Fangs was happy to see his best friend, while Y/N was glad he could hopefully stop his friend from flirting with her.

"I was trying to convince Y/N here to go on a date with me."

The bottle in Sweet Pea's hand burst open causing everyone to stare at them. "Dude, careful" Fangs exclaimed.

"You two are going on a date" Sweet Pea grinded his teeth together trying to stay calm. Fangs shook his head. "No, she refused."

Sweet Pea looked at Y/N who wore a small smile. She was thinking something, though Sweet Pea had no idea what it could be.

"If I were to date anyone, I knew exactly who I'd want." Sweet Pea couldn't help but grin at her words. "You're something else" he mumbled causing her to chuckle.

Fangs looked between the two and the realisation finally struck him.

"You two are fucking!"

Everyone stared at them as Fangs stood up, pointing to his best friend and the girl no one knew. "Sit down" Sweet Pea told him.

"That's why you defended her, because you're getting something out of it! It makes perfect sense!"

Y/N had never felt so embarrassed in her life. Everyone was staring at them.

Sweet Pea felt a different emotion, he felt anger, pure anger. He stood up and looked down at his friend. "I defended her because I love her!"

Y/N's eyes widen as did Fang's. They didn't know how he felt about the girl, but apparently Sweet Pea loved her.

"You love me?" Sweet Pea looked at her and nodded his head. "I love you. I know what we said, but I couldn't help but fall for you. I love you so much Y/N L/N, I'm sorry."

Y/N pulled his head down to hers and placed her lips against his. Everyone cheered as they kissed.

When they pulled away Y/N smiled at him.

"I love you too."

"Did you ever doubt your relationship would last? That it wouldn't progress into more?" Jughead asked as he discreetly handed Sweet Pea a small box.

He looked at the smaller boy with a smile. "I've never had a single ounce of doubt. I love her more than life itself."

Jughead smiled. "Then go get your girl."

* * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * *

[quiet-onset]

Gætir (14)

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader, Bucky Barnes x platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,422

Tag List:  @givemeanorigami, @ktjnn, @dreamingaboutthewonderland, @whatisanniedoin, @msvega24, @champion-ofthe-sun, @art-flirt, @moose-on-the-l00se, @snowstorm8162, @loricwizardbluetoastedcake

PREVIOUS - NEXT

A/N: I know this may not matter to some of you, but I just wanted to say, I try to write my stories as vague as possible so that the reader can be of any race. As a POC, I know how hard it can be to find fics that actually immerse you into the story, but I hope I can do that for everyone. :)

Chapter Fourteen:

There were some days that you wished your life could’ve been normal. You wish you’d had time to worry about friendships and school. To gossip about boys and stress over getting your license. You’d dreamt of the day that you had to choose between pizza and Chinese food.

But as you stood in front of your bed with two outfits in front of you, you didn’t want to be normal anymore.

You felt stupid for trying to decide between your red suit and your mother’s blue and gold armor. This was stuff that teenage girls worried about. Yet, here you were, faced with a decision that ultimately shouldn’t matter.

You turned your head as you heard a knock on your door. When you answered with a come in! you caught a glimpse of Thor before returning your gaze to the colorful clothing draped across the edge of your bed. You sighed as you folded your arms across your chest, “I can’t talk about feelings right now, Thor.”

“I didn’t come to talk about us,” Thor said, closing the door behind him. “Stark wanted me to go over the plan with you again.”

“I already know the plan. It’s imprinted in my brain.”

“Then why do you seem so uneasy?”

Thor watched you carefully as you huffed, looking from one suit to the other. He noted the way you tugged at you bottom lip with your teeth as you concentrated on the clothing. “Y/N.” He said quietly. “You can talk to me.”

You looked up at him as you pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face. You saw the sincerity in his eyes as you unfolded your arms, letting your hands hang loosely on your hips. “I don’t deserve to wear her armor.”

He quickly understood, “Don’t say that.”

“I know you and Bucky and the others, you’re doing this because you want to protect the world from an evil asshole. Just like my mom. But no matter how much I lie to myself, I know that’s not why I’m doing it.” You explained. “Thor, I want to kill him for what he’s done to my family.”

Thor stayed silent, watching as you fell back into your pattern. Red suit, blue suit, up to the ceiling, repeat. He slowly walked toward you.

“There was once a time I didn’t think I deserved the throne.”

You looked back up at him for a split second, allowing him to continue. He shook his head, “I never thought I’d be as good a king as my father was, and I’d surely find no queen better than my mother.”

“But the fact of the matter is, it doesn’t matter.” He continued. “Whether or not I deserved the throne, I became king. All I could do was do well by my people.”

You folded your arms across your chest once more. “She’d be disappointed in me.”

“She’d be proud,” Thor argued. By this point, Thor was standing beside you, facing you as you continued to eye each suit. “Why do you want to kill Eskil?”

“He ruined my life.” You said, your brow scrunched together. “He turned my dad in and got my family killed.”

“So?”

“So?” You repeatedly, feeling anger course through your veins. “My entire family is dead because of him. I’ll never get to see them again! And as long as he’s still out there, he can do it to some other little kid and I can’t just—“

You stopped as you realized what Thor meant, a small proud smile gracing his face. “You’re doing this for the right reasons. Even if you can’t see it.”

You looked up at him. Thor was caught by surprise by the small glimpse of fear in your eyes. “You really think I deserve to wear this suit?”

“It doesn’t matter what you did or who you were before you put on that armor.” He told you. “Only after.”

Having the wisdom of Thor’s response in the air, he exited your room to allow you privacy. Slowly, you ran your hands over the gold armor that surrounded the blue, tattered tunic. Your brow creased in determination, you picked it up. “I’ll do right by you, Mom.”

—

“Everyone in position?”

You surveyed the area as you heard several confirmations in the comms. Eyeing the men that were guarding the area with large guns, you thought about the boy you’d saved from Eskil’s men. “Hey, Stark, who’s watching that kid’s family?” You asked quietly.

“Oh, I have Spiderman on that.”

“You got a kid to protect another kid?”

“How do you know he’s a kid?”

“I was an assassin, Tony. I can put two and two together.”

Suddenly, another voice was on the comms. “Don’t worry, Mr. Stark. I can handle this.”

Your brow furrowed, “He’s on the comms?”

“How else am I supposed to make sure he’s safe?” Tony asked. “Just trust him, okay?”

You sighed at the feeling of putting another kid in the path of danger but realized you had no choice. “Just be careful, kid.”

You could practically hear the grin in his voice as he answered you, “Will do.”

Meanwhile, Bruce had finally hacked into their security system. He placed the cameras on a loop, allowing the team to proceed according to plan. “Alright, everyone move in.”

You could see Bucky run alongside Steve toward the west entrance as you walked toward the east. As you placed your hand on the hilt of your sword, you heard thunder crack in the sky and watched Thor land on the roof of the building. You felt a tiny sense of pride as you saw sparks fly from his hands.

When the guards caught sight of you, they raised their guns and called for you to stop. You pulled your dagger from its holster and threw it toward one of the guards. You watched as he collapsed to the ground. The other shot at you, but you pulled out your sword and swung at his arm. The gash caused him to drop the gun, so you struck his head with your elbow. He fell to the ground, and you went to pull the dagger from the other man’s body.

“East entrance is clear.”

“The camera's on a loop,” Bruce told you. “Go ahead.”

As you made your way through the building, taking down one security guard after the other, you heard Bruce’s voice in your ear once more. “Eskil should be in the room coming up on your left.”

“Got it.”

“Hey Y/N,” Steve called with a groan, “Would you happen to know if anyone from the Gætir is helping him?”

“That’s not possible.” You shook your head, metaphorically waving him off. “Bucky, Thor, I’m going in.”

“Not without backup, you’re not,” Bucky ordered.

Thor grunted as he fended off another guard, “We’re almost there, just wait.”

You kicked the door open, “Too late.”

Eskil looked almost unbothered as he stood behind his desk, a gun in his hand. He calmly walked to the edge, trailing his fingers along the wood so that it made a squeaking sound. He brought his fingers to his face as he rubbed them together, inspecting the imaginary dust.

“Give it up, Eskil.” You told him, gripping your sword tight. “It’s over.”

“Nice outfit. You look like your mother in that armor.”

Your eyes narrowed, “You’ve never met my mother.”

“Y/N, I know you better than you realize.”

Your brow furrowed as he smirked at you. “What the hell does that mean?”

“How do you think I know your mother, hm?”

You watched as he dropped his gun and stomped on the floor, breaking the floorboards. You were seething as you recalled that your mother had done the exact same thing. He bent down, his hand reaching for something. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a long sword similar to your own. When he looked back at up you with lips sinisterly curled upward on one side, you saw his eyes.

Glowing blue.

“It’s not easy being exiled, Crimson.”

He swung at you fast, missing you by the tiniest margin. You brought your sword up to counterattack, sparks flying from the metal. He was gaining ground quickly, and it seemed his expertise outmatched yours. You blocked his attack, his face eerily close to yours. “You were a member of the Gætir.”

He grunted, “The best. But I didn’t exactly follow the rules.”

You heard the blood pounding in your ears as you stared into the eyes that so similarly mirrored yours. You quickly came to the realization that you’d been searching for, “You killed my mother.”

He pushed you backward, but you managed to remain standing, sliding to a stop. “Her survival was the only thing standing in my way. Don’t take it personally; it had to be done.”

All you could see was red. All this time you’d been searching for answers, trying to remember what you’d been through. You’d worked for Eskil for the better part of a year trying to figure out what happened to your family, and, the whole time, the answer was right in front of you. “I’m gonna kill you.” You growled.

“Well then, you won’t get to see my gift to you.”

Just then, the door was knocked off its hinges. There, in the doorway, you saw yet another pair of blue, glowing eyes. I just can’t get a break, you thought. It wasn’t until the dust cleared that you were caught completely by surprise.

“Melody?”

She hadn’t changed much. She was taller, her hair was longer. She looked a lot like your father. Her face was completely void of emotion. A dull, determined look in her eyes. It was clear she didn’t recognize you as she walked by when Eskil called her. “I think you forgot, Y/N. Nothing from Earth can kill us. So those bullets didn’t do much.”

“You let her go.” You glared at him. “Now.”

He ignored you, circling your sister as he spoke. “I took them both in as my test subjects for your father’s research. Fitting legacy, don’t you think? Now Harmony… she wasn’t strong enough to handle the experimentation. But Melody.” He brushed her hair from her face, your grip tightening on your sword. “This is your father at work, Y/N.”

It was then that your backup finally arrived. Bucky and Thor went to stand behind you, waiting for your next move. “You’re gonna pay for this with your life, Eskil.”

He smirked at you but said nothing. Standing behind Melody, he leaned into her ear. “Mel.” Her head snapped up. “Sick ‘em.”

The idea of your sister being used like a dog made you sick to your stomach, but you had no time to think about it as she charged at you. You called to Thor and Bucky, “Don’t kill her, alright?”

They shouted a confused confirmation as you came into contact with your sister for the first time since you were twelve. She rammed you back into a wall, your sword falling from your hand. You tried to keep your emotions at bay as you reared back for a headbutt. Melody stumbled backward before being thrown across the room by Bucky.

After grabbing your sword, you looked back up to see Eskil jumping off the window ledge to make his escape. “You guys hold her off. I’m going after Eskil.” You ran up to the ledge and watched as Eskil landed safely on the ground. “Stark, secure Bucky’s and Thor’s perimeter. They don’t need any distractions. And Banner, get ready for a prisoner transport.”

“Prisoner transport?” Bruce asked. “For who?”

You looked back at your sister fighting Bucky and Thor before taking a deep breath as you stood on the window ledge, “I’ll explain later.”

The sound of rushing air filled your ears as you made a straight shot for Eskil. Your foot collided with his back as you reached the ground, both of you tumbling on the concrete.

When he stood and turned, your eyes met his. That was when you knew that one of you wasn’t getting out alive.

You weren’t sure how long you fended him off. For a while, you were pretty evenly matched, but he was better-trained and more experienced. It seemed like hours before he had overcome you, his heavy boot on your neck as you lie helpless on the ground. You gripped his ankle tightly as he began to apply pressure. You struggled to breathe as he leaned over. “The Gætir protects all nine realms from evil. Without us, the universe would rot. Why shouldn’t we rule them?” He told you.

“Go to hell.” You sputtered.

“It doesn’t have to be this way. You and I, we’re the same. We are the Gætir.” He said, a scary look of ambition in his eyes.

The air was thick and silent, save for the choked breaths you managed to take. He chuckled as your face started to lose color and lifted his foot.

You coughed and took deep breaths, crawling on your hands and knees to retrieve your sword. When you grabbed it, you stood on shaky legs and spit out a bit of blood. Eskil simply laughed, twisting his wrist so his sword swung in the empty air. “Wouldn’t you rather join me?”

“You’re sick.”

“We can make entire populations into our own personal armies with your father’s research.” He explained. “Melody is living proof—“

“You can’t force people to fight for you!” You shouted angrily, knowing exactly what it felt like to be docile under someone else’s will.

He pointed his sword at you, “You’re choosing the wrong side of history, Crimson.”

“No. For once, I chose the right side.”

“The Avengers? What, are they your friends now? I kept you safe from Hydra. What have they done for you? Wouldn’t you rather be reunited with your sister?”

Your brow drew together in frustration as you tried to get his intruding suggestions out of your head. “Bucky helped me figure out Hydra was manipulating me. Bruce saved my life. And Thor…”

Eskil narrowed his eyes. “Thor what? He may be an Asgardian. He may be a god, but compared to us? Together? He’s only an obstacle.”

“This isn’t about him!” You shouted. “You have to pay. For what you did to my mother, to Melody, to my family. For all the people you’ve killed. You’re going to pay.”

He tightened his grip on his sword, “Have it your way.”

You blocked every attack he made, his movements too fast to try to attack him yourself. He backed you against the wall, his forearm at your neck holding you there. Your eyes widened as he reared back with his other hand, the blade of his sword aimed at your head.

Just as he brought his arm forward, you brought your hands up and caught the blade in your hands.

You could feel it cutting into your flesh as he pushed harder. You could feel your muscles starting to give out and your vision start to blur when you looked over Eskil’s shoulder. You didn’t know if it was from your weariness or the lack of oxygen getting to your brain, but you saw her across the street.

Your mother.

She was dressed in the same clothes she died in. Her shirt even had the same dried blood stain. She smiled at you but stayed silent. You watched as she brought her hand up to her head and tapped her temple with her index finger, then did the same to her heart.

Then she disappeared.

You looked at Eskil, then back to your mother’s empty spot. Blood dripped down your hands as you prepared to push back. That’s when it hit you.

His temple.

You pursed your lips and grunted as you pushed back hard, sending the butt of his sword into his head. You did it one more time before he dropped you and his sword and stumbled backward.

You gathered the strength you had left and swung your fist at him, managing to clock him in the jaw. You jumped when he tried to swing his foot under your legs. You took the opportunity to wrap your legs around his head, pulling your weight forward so he flew from them and landed on the ground.

When you looked back up, you felt something different surging through veins. Something more powerful. You could it through your skin, your veins glowing just like your eyes. Whether it was your powers or adrenaline, you weren’t sure, but somehow, your eyes were glowing brighter. You drew strength from the pain of the bleeding wounds on your body as you grabbed your sword.

Eskil grabbed his sword and blocked most of your attacks, grunting when you managed to cut him with your blade. It felt like seconds went by as you took the upper hand. Having him in the same position that you were in, against the wall.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked, blood covering his teeth. “Kill me? I’ll just end up in Niflheim again. And I’ll escape again.”

“You expect me to believe there’s no way to kill you for good?”

He coughed, “If there is, you don’t know it.”

With a look of concentration on your face, you thought back to your mother. Head. Heart.

Heart.

You unsheathed the dagger that sat on your waist forgotten. Eskil’s eyes widened as you both watched the dagger shine an unnatural white light on both your faces. “I think I do.”

Without a second thought, you plunged the dagger into his heart. His eyes wide and still glowing, he gripped the handle. His lips were parted in a silent cry as you stepped away from him.

Just a moment later, you heard Thor call your name, “Y/N!”

When you turned, your sister was running towards you with murder in her eyes, but a lightning bolt sent her flying across the street. You knew she was unconscious as one lightning bolt would never be enough to kill her.

Thor jogged toward you with concern filling his every movement. You met him halfway, throwing your arms around his neck. You didn’t care at that point. You didn’t care about your bleeding hands. You didn’t care about the many cuts on your arms and abdomen or the bruises that were sure to form later. You didn’t care that you were hugging Thor as tightly as you’d hugged anyone you’d ever known.

All you knew was that it was done. And for the first time in a long time, you were happy.

However, as you took in a sharp breath and you felt your entire body tense in pain, you realized you spoke too soon.

Thor held you up, his eyes wide as he looked back at Eskil, the glow fading from his eyes. “If I have to die,” He started, blood pouring from his lips, “She’s coming with me.”

Eskil dropped dead to the ground as Thor lowered you carefully, calling your name. “Y/N, you’re going to be okay.”

You nodded slightly as you weren’t sure you could do much else. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” He repeated. You noted it seemed like he was talking more to himself than to you. “Stark, she needs help!”

“What happened?” Tony said, knocking an adversary out and immediately heading for the building.

“Eskil threw a dagger into her back.”

“Whatever you do, don’t take it out. I’ll be there in a second. Bruce?”

“Quinjet’s in route,” Bruce answered, going as fast as the quinjet would let him.

Thor grabbed your bloody hand in his, his brows scrunching together when he realized your flesh was warm. He squeezed when your eyes started drooping. “Y/N, stay with me. Stay with me, please.”

“I don’t know if I can.” You croaked slowly.

“You’re strong.” He replied, his voice cracking a bit as tears started to fill his eyes. “You’re the strongest person I know. Just keep your eyes open, please.”

You turned your head slowly, letting it rest against his bicep. “Thank you.” You told him.

He let out a sad chuckle, a single tear falling. “For what?”

“For believing in me.” You tried to smile. “Even when I couldn’t.”

You felt your eyes closing of their own volition. Your hearing started to fade out as Thor began shouting your name. The last thing you felt was Thor wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close to his chest.

And that was okay.

—

Forever Tags:

@jockarchie, @kimmy-h-life, @ben-platt-deserves-the-world , @thewordofthenerd , @wishuponastarlana, @yumel21, @here-for-your-bullshit, @bethbat, @iamafangirlofeverything, @loveisloveandmorepeopleneedit

[laceymorganwrites]

Hot Nurse pt.1

Word Count: 1, 341

Pairing: None yet, will be Kid x Reader

Warnings: Kid´s a filthy asshole, mentions of sex, swear words, violence

A/N: This is gonna be a three parter I guess, I just thought about Kid a lot and couldn´t figure out a Scenario. So, basically this is the part where the Reader and him first meet. I´m trying to post all three parts within the next days. 

It was already dawn when your last patient left, you could finally relax after a long, hard day of work. You decided to go home. It was always quiet when you left your office, but not like today, today was unnaturally quiet, too quiet. Nobody was seen on the streets, it wasn´t empty, it was void. When you arrived at your house, you ate leftovers from the other day and took a hot shower. After that you weren´t so sure about staying home anymore and decided to dress up and go to the club. The streets were still empty, despite your favorite band playing at the club tonight. You decided not to worry about that and just enjoy the night and your well deserved week end. An excited grin played on your lips as you could hear the music playing as you entered the club and straightly walked to the bar, ordering whiskey cola. “Where is everyone?” you shouted at the barmaid, who was also your patient. “At home. Today´s the big video transmission from Mariejoa. I hear even the princess will have to fight, can you believe it?” she shook her head, clearly pitying the princess. You laughed, you knew the story too well. “I totally forgot about that. I heard they´ll be getting help from the Big Mom pirates, they won´t lose” you made your bets. “Anyways, do you know if the band´s here already?” you asked, you waited a long time and paid a lot of money for this event. The barmaid, Alice, smiled. “They´re in the back. I think you know the singer?” she raised an eyebrow. “Maybe” you chuckled, before shaking your head. “I do know her, and her boyfriend. I think they´re going to start. I´ll be in the front” you mentioned before making your way through the crowd. “Hey everyone….” your friend announced and then starting singing her songs. You danced and whipped your hair and elbows in some faces. The concert was over too soon and you were sweating. “That! Was awesome...” you breathlessly stated, laughing. “She´s a genius, I really love her lyrics.” Alice admitted quietly while looking away and blushing. You chuckled. “I´m proud of you! You work at a job with many people and talking involved and concerts are no longer a problem for you. It´s almost like you live the risk” you joked while referencing Alice´s anxiety. She held her thumbs up awkwardly and went to clean up the bar. Time after time everyone left and the band tidied the stage and the backroom. In the mean time you sat down and enjoyed the silence and good night. Maybe you would go to a different club with a DJ and party later. You didn´t notice two men entering the bar, until one of them stood directly in front of you, grinning a bit too wide. You raised an eyebrow and finished your drink, when he said: “Damn, babe, you´re a grenade, gonna explode all over me”. You choked on your drink and coughed, frowning. “What the actual fuck?” you hysterically began to laugh, nobody ever said such vulgar things to you. You turned away from him and could hear someone laughing. Alice froze in the motion of cleaning a glass and stared at the man in disbelief. You thought he would just go away, but thought twice as you felt someone groping your butt harshly. Balling your fists, you turned around and kicked him in the nuts. “Please never reproduce!” you hissed as he crouched down in pain. “Oh, baby, you´re so rough! I think I´m in love with you” he forced through gritted teeth. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” you yelled at him. “I´m gonna fuck you so hard tonight, you won´t be able to walk for the rest of your life! I bet you look cute when you suck my dick, baby girl. Your tits are amazing, by the way. And your ass is just heaven!” he continued his filth and heard someone falling from a chair of laughter. You opened your mouth in shock and just stood there a few seconds, processing that this was really happening and that some stranger said all these dirty things to you. Before he knew it your fist hit him directly in the face. You could feel a bone break and blood spill on your fist. “Ow, fuck!” he cursed, holding his hand over his broken nose. The second man, wearing a mask came up to him and whispered something in his ear. “Oh, shut the fuck up!” the other man told him. You had your hands positioned on your hips and were fuming. “You are a disgusting human being” you finally told him and as you left the bar, you could hear him shouting after you: “Marry me!”. You went to bed that night, hoping to wake up the next morning realizing today was just a bad dream. Sadly this didn´t happen. Instead you woke up to a note on your door. It said: ´I´m sorry my captain is such a dickhead.´. Great. So the guy you punched last night was a captain, that would bring you in trouble. You decided not to worry about it now and went to work. As you made coffee your coffee machine broke and in addition to that you were almost squished by the air conditioner. “For fuck´s sake!” you yelled, jumping aside and groaning. “Sorry for the mess” you excused yourself to Alice who was your first patient. It have already been a few hours since every electronic thing in your office broke and it was hot. You were sweating, so you put your hair up in a bun and it was so burning hot, you were in a tank top and shorts. “I told you to get a mechanic!” Alice scolded you. “I don´t know a fucking mechanic! Normally all of my things don´t just break on one single day!” you complained. “But, I must have a book somewhere here that says how to fix everything. Don´t worry” you walked in the back and tried to find the book you thought you saw here a few years ago. You couldn´t find it and when you returned to Alice, the men from the night before where there too. Before you could properly react, the man in the mask apologized for last night. “I wish I could say he was drunk, but he wasn´t. He´s always like this. I think he´s insane, but he refuses to talk about it. Sorry for the trouble, ma´am.” you sighed, he sounded sincere and the man of your anger at least looked guilty at your boobs. He had something that was supposed to be a band aid placed on his nose. “It´s not gonna heal like that” you mentioned softly. “I have no medical education” Killer stated. “I can do it properly” you offered. Killer pushed his elbow in Kid´s side. “Thanks” he reacted. “No problem. God, which idiot stitched you up?” you laughed as you removed the band aid. Alice handed you the proper material. “I was the idiot” Killer answered. “Sorry for last night” Kid gave in. “Yeah, whatever” you responded, walking away from him. “I can fix that” he pointed to the scrap that were your former devices. “Don´t know why you would do that” you bluntly told him. “You´re really hot, you know?” Kid told you. You shook your head. “What the fuck´s your problem?” you said. “He´s trying to flirt” Killer explained. “Yeah? He´s really bad at it, besides he can talk for himself, you´re not his mom!” these guys were weird. “Killer´s smarter than me. Better with words. I can´t do that shit” Kid added before they left. “That was a stupid idea” Kid pouted. “It was worth a try” Killer tried to cheer him up. “I´m gonna drink every bar in this shithole and have sex all night and forget about that stupid pretty stuck up bitch!” Kid announced, Killer smiled, his captain has never called anyone pretty.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Angel (V)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jackson

Rating: PG-13 (angst, depictions of chemotherapy / surgery)

Word Count: 4,479

Summary:  You’re a medical intern, always a perfectionist and used to being the best at everything you do. Jackson Wang is the male nurse beloved by everyone and constantly on your nerves. When you two are brought together, it could be the best or the worst thing that’s ever happened. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @baebae-goodnight !) 

“Jackson,” you demand, waiting for him to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

Jackson looks your way. His eyes find yours, for only a second. “My dad just called,” he manages.

“Oh?” Unsure why, your heart starts to pound. “What about?”

“My mom.” Jackson can barely get out the words. His mouth tightens around them, and he swallows. “They found a lump in her breast. They’re doing a biopsy but Y/N,” he half-breaks, needing to look away. “They think she’s re-lapsed.”

You don’t know what to do.

The wind pulls at your hair, blowing it in different directions as you stare, struggling to come up with words. In medical school there are several classes you take, all designed to enhance empathy. Designed to teach bedside manner, the importance of communicating with your patient. It’s something you’ve been taught over and over, and you don’t know why it’s difficult now.

The idea, itself is odd. Logically, a patient should want a doctor who knows what they’re doing. The patient should want a doctor with the right statistics, the right answers, right schooling and right credentials. They should want the one who, ultimately, can cure them. In reality, patients want a doctor who makes them feel better.

To feel better doesn’t necessarily mean ‘to not be ill.’ Oftentimes it’s emotional, a quintessential calmness that comes from a person’s words or gestures. It comes from the idea that they care, because people who care try harder. All this, is a roundabout way of saying there are many phrases you use, to comfort patients.

You can tell them they’re strong. Tell them you’re here, that you’re sincere in your efforts. You can tell them their options, explain what they can do and what to expect. None of these seem relevant now, looking at Jackson. Jackson’s expression is crumpled, a man at a loss, and you know there are no words you can say to fill this void.

When he looks your way, he’s silent. Silent, but then he reaches out a hand. You accept it quietly, letting yourself be pulled into him. You’re exhausted. Tired from your shift and the events of the night but you find yourself feeling strong, in his arms. Not by choice, but because you must. You know what will happen now, what Jackson will go through – and in the coming months, he’ll need you to be the strong one.

Jackson doesn’t cry, though his body relaxes into yours. He softens, as though he’s letting go. It’s all too often, that he’s the solid one. All too often he’s the happy one, the bright one, the smiling and laughing nurse who makes others feel better. That’s the kind of person he’ll need to continue to be, for his mom, but with you – your arms tighten.

“I just,” Jackson inhales, breaking off, “didn’t expect him to say that, when I answered. I talked to her last night and she seemed fine. Maybe a little tired,” Jackson buries his face deeper, “a little off. She lost weight, was kind of nauseous – ah,” his arms tighten. “I should have known, I should have seen it.”

“No,” you exhale, shaking your head before pulling away. Jackson’s eyes are rimmed with red. “You’re her son, not her doctor.”

Jackson doesn’t respond at first. “I know.”

“When… will you know?” you ask, and he shakes his head – he’s not sure, when the biopsy results will come back.

“Probably sometime today,” he mumbles, pushing a hand through his hair. “It depends on what tests they run.”

You nod, because you understand. Looking at him, you stifle your yawn – you don’t mean to, truly you don’t. It’s just that today has been so long, you’re so tired. Jackson notices this, catching your hands with his own.

“Hey,” he bends. “Go home. Get sleep. I need to get to my shift, we can talk tonight – okay? When do you come in next?”

“Not until tomorrow morning,” you say, yawning again. “Go, go – we can talk tonight.”

“Okay,” Jackson straightens, glancing over your shoulder. “I’ll get through today, and then I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Okay,” you agree, lifting on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “If you need anything, tell me and I’ll come.”

“Anything?” Jackson manages to smile. “Anything?”

“Barring certain violent crimes, yes.” When he groans at this, you poke his arm. “You want a slushie? Done. You need your laundry separated? I’m your girl. You need a recipe, some surgical technique researched, someone to drive your grandma to the airport? Hello, I’m here.”

Jackson laughs, though it disappears faster than it normally does. “I appreciate that,” he says, squeezing your hand. Then he turns around, hiking his messenger bag higher. “I’ll see you tonight.”

You watch him walk away. Jackson disappears through the doors to the hospital and you can’t help but shiver at the sight. It’s an odd part of being a doctor, the normalization of the place. For most of the world, a hospital is somewhere you visit and might not leave. It’s a place to be healed, but also one to die – and for some reason, this fact seems glaringly obvious right now.

Turning away, you walk across the parking lot. Shoving both hands in your pockets while crossing to your car, tugging on the handle until it opens. On the inside, you sit for a long moment. Hands gripped around the steering wheel before tossing your bag into the passenger seat. You lower your head to the leather wheel, taking a few deep breaths in and out.

It’s a lot – first Mr. Ronstein, now Jackson’s mother. Anger pushes at you from inside out, twisting your skin and bones with the pain. It’s not fair – it’s not fair that Mr. Ronstein is gone, that Jackson’s mother will have to go through this all over again. It’s not fair that Jackson is overworked, that he’s over-tired and still must deal with this. Then there’s you – it’s hard not to think about yourself, in all of this.

Perhaps that’s selfish but then, humans are selfish creatures. You only understand the world as it relates to you, through your own eyes and right now, you’re barely hanging on. You can barely deal with your own perfectionism and neuroticism – and to have to support another person on top of that? It’s a lot.

Just thinking this, makes you want to cry. You squeeze your eyes shut, convincing yourself not to. Whatever you do, crying won’t help. Taking another breath, you slowly lift your head. Monitoring your breathing, you wait until your vision clears, and then place your car in reverse. The drive home is long, silent since you forgot to turn on the radio. It’s only ten minutes to your apartment, but it may as well be ten hours.

When you pull into the parking space, you almost don’t recognize it. Staring dazedly at the curb before shaking your head and opening the door.

Your bed welcomes you, face-first. You barely make it there in time, tossing your keys on the counter and kicking your shoes in your closet. Half-stripping your body to fall, mostly clothed into bed. You sleep instantly, barely remembering your head hitting the pillow – it’s only your cell phone which wakes you, insistent and shrill.

Hand fumbling, you grasp for the device – lifting it to answer, “Hello?”

“It’s cancer,” Jackson breaks, barely able to speak. “It’s – she’s.”

You sit up. “I’m on my way.”

The new few weeks pass in a blur.

Jackson’s mom is put into chemotherapy. Normally for a re-lapse, the approach would immediately be a mastectomy. Jackson and his father are both insistent though – the less invasive, the better. Which means chemo first, hoping to shrink it enough to perform a lumpectomy. The doctor still prefers the latter – quietly, you agree – but Jackson is livid at the thought.

“Is he crazy,” he hisses, while you push him hastily out of the room. His mom and dad are still talking with the doctor – reviewing the side effects, talking about potential outcomes. They don’t need Jackson going off the wall, making this harder. “Really,” Jackson turns, halting when he sees how close to the wall he is. He exhales, slowly extending his fingertips, “is he actually crazy.”

You say nothing, as you wait for him to explain. Sometimes, it’s better to let someone talk themselves out of the pain.

“She’ll go through so much with a mastectomy,” Jackson groans, meeting your gaze. “She’ll lose a part of herself. It’s invasive, it’s a long recovery – my mom likes to do things. She likes hanging out with her friends, likes going on random road trips. She likes singing along to the radio, she…” he breaks off, shaking his head.

You reach out for him, taking his hand as Jackson stops talking. “I know,” you nod, searching his face, “she has options, though. Chemo is just as invasive, some say more so than the surgery.”

Jackson groans, before burying his face in his hands. “If they shrink the tumor though, it will be a less complicated surgery.” He quiets, then lowers his hands to look at you. “I know what the right answer is. I know what she should do – so why is it so hard, when it’s my mom?”

There’s no answer, besides the obvious. “Because you love her,” you say simply. “It’s pain she’ll feel, pain you’ll feel as well. It’s hard to make the right decision, when you’re hurting yourself.”

Jackson nods, then looks out the window. “I’ll step back.  Whatever she decides,” he says hollowly. His eyelids flutter. “Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask.

“For making me say this out here,” Jackson takes a step, wrapping his arms around you. His head finds the top of your head, “instead of in that room.”

“You’re welcome,” you mumble against his sweater – fingers connecting behind his back.

Jackson holds you that way, gathering strength before he’s ready to go in.

The second week of his mom’s chemo, it’s a difficult week at work. You mix up some paperwork, nearly miss the distribution of a patient’s pills and things only go down from there. You’re beaten, bruised and thoroughly convinced you can’t do this anymore. The only thing getting you through it all – the knowledge of why you’re doing this – becomes suddenly unclear.

You want to help. Want to be of use, but how can you, if you’re crap? If you’re not good enough to save people, if you mess up more than you succeed – how is that helping anyone? It seems unfair, to lay any of this on Jackson – so you don’t.

Instead you keep silent, pushing your worries deep inside yourself. Normally, you think Jackson would notice. Normally, he’d sense the distance and try to draw you out. This time though, he can’t. Right now his attention, his entire being is devoted to his mom.

You can’t begrudge him that – it’s who Jackson is. He gives his whole self, every bit of him – it’s what you love about him. Because through all this, that’s one thing you’ve realized. You love Jackson, you’ve fallen love though you haven’t told him. That’s a lot to reciprocate, and you don’t want to be a burden.

It’s during her final week of chemo, that Jackson rushes into the break room. He appears frazzled, hair askew and scrubs half-on. You see him enter and rise, hastily crossing the room. “Jackson,” you breath, scanning his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He nods, grabbing your arm. “It’s my mom.”

Dread pools in your stomach. Those words are never followed by anything good – and Jackson takes a step closer, pushing you backwards into the on-call room. He shuts the door and you turn to face him, worried. “Yes?”

“One of the nurses is sick,” Jackson grimaces. “The flu, I think. I need to cover their shift, but my mom is about to go into chemo.” He pauses, shudders. “I don’t want her to be alone. I was wondering if maybe – if possibly –”

“Jackson,” you touch his arm. “Of course I’ll sit with your mom. I’m in between shifts, its fine.”

Jackson’s face drops in relief. “Oh, thank you,” he exhales, grabbing your face for a kiss. “Thank you, thank you, thank you – I owe you,’ he declares, throwing open the door – wagging a finger in your direction. “Sexual or not, I owe you big.”

You laugh, crossing your arms as the door falls shut behind him. Once you’re alone, you take a deep breath. You can do this – you can go to his mom’s chemotherapy, you can sit beside her. It’s not that you’re scared, exactly – you’ve met Jackson’s mom many times before. You’ve been in the same room, sat in on other treatments – but never like this. Never alone, never without Jackson. You’re always the one supporting Jackson, who in turn supports his mom.

To get ride of that barrier is intimidating. As you change out of your scrubs to pull on street clothes, you wonder what you should say. Wonder if you should think up talking points – then look in the mirror, smoothing your sweater lower. It would be weird, if you wore scrubs. Dressing like that enforces distance, makes it clear that you’re the doctor and they’re the patient. That’s not what today is about. Today is about friendship, not professionalism.

The oncology wing is all the way on the other side of the hospital, which means you’re almost late traveling to Jackson’s mom’s appointment. You arrive just as Mrs. Wang is being walked in, the on-call nurse checking her name, medicine and dosage before she settles in. This is one of the last appointments, before a decision on surgery is reached. Everything has gone remarkably well – Mrs. Wang’s tumor has shrunk, it’s in a more manageable location and overall, things are looking good.

When Mrs. Wang looks up and sees you, she smiles. “Y/N,” she sighs, lowering herself onto the bed. Bed is a loose term, it’s really more of a recliner. “Thank you for coming, but you needn’t stay.” She half-laughs at this. “Jackson worries too much – I’ll be fine, alone.”

Before now, you were frozen. Before now, you were unsure what to do with your words or speech or hands. Now you move, walking to the side of her bed and pulling out a chair. “ I know,” you declare, sitting. “I want to be here.”

She raises an eyebrow, but nods. “I see.”

The moment is interrupted by the nurse, returning to start the infusion. She begins the drip of medicine into Sophia’s IV before leaving, checking her vitals and exiting the room. Today the place is fairly quiet, just one or two people throughout – neither of them with visitors. You nod when the nurse leaves, already monitoring Mrs. Wang yourself. You check that everything looks textbook; that she’s safe, healthy.

“I have doctors, dear,” Mrs. Wang interrupts, though she smiles. “You don’t have to do that. Between you and Jackson,” she laughs – then winces, “I don’t know when I can ever have normal conversation.”

You offer a hesitant smile. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wang,” you confess, shaking your head. “When I don’t know what to do with myself, sometimes I fall into the pattern that I know.”

“Don’t we all,” she murmurs, closing her eyes. “And please, call me Sophia.”

“Really?” you sound dubious. “That seems awfully informal.”

Sophia laughs. “You’re dating my son,” she counters. “It doesn’t get much more informal than that.”

Smiling to yourself, you fold your hands in your lap. “True.”

Opening one eyes, Sophia looks at you. “He cares deeply for you.”

“I,” you exhale, organizing your thoughts. “I care deeply for him, as well.”

She smiles. “You’ve been good to him. You are good for him, I don’t know if you know that.”

It’s hard, to control your blush. “Jackson is a wonderful person,” you respond, shaking your head. “I’m sure that, in no small part, is due to you.”

Sophia laughs, a happy sound. “Yes, he is – Jackson is sensitive, though. Most don’t think so, since he’s so bright and cheerful – but Jackson feels the world, deeply. He likes to be liked, likes to be seen – you seem to temper that, somehow.”

“Oh,” you frown. “I don’t like to think I’ve changed him.”

“Sometimes change is good. I don’t think he’s changed in a bad way,” she confesses. “Jackson just doesn’t try so hard, around you. He seems more like himself, more confident – though people always are, when they’re loved. You do love him,” she asks, curious, “don’t you? I’m not sure you’ve said it to each other yet, but from the way that you look at him…” she trails off.

Your cheeks must be tomato-red. “I – I do,” you confess, though when Sophia starts to smile, you hasten, “I haven’t told him. Haven’t wanted to well, put that on him.” Saying this out loud, you wince. It sounds so lame, so inadequate.

Sophia doesn’t seem offended, just thoughtful. “You think your love would be a burden?”

When she says it like this – so simply – it’s hard to think of an answer. You stare, for a moment. “I suppose,” you manage, “when you put it that way.”

Adjusting herself on the bed, Sophia smiles, “Life is short, Y/N. You don’t always get a second chance, so take the first one.”

She’s right. She is, and for a brief second you say nothing back. For a moment you’re silent, considering the reasons. The reasons why you continually block yourself from happiness, why you think it’s only appropriate to feel one emotion at a time. Even in tragedy, there can be light. That’s the beautiful part of humanity, it’s your favorite part of working in a hospital. It’s because of things like this, like Mr. Ronstein – so brave, when faced with fear. Because of small miracles, like that one car accident. The one where, against all odds, everyone pulled through. It’s because of the brightness – light, where there should only be dark.

Your love for Jackson is along those same lines. Just because he’s in pain, just because he’s busy doesn’t mean there isn’t room for you. It doesn’t mean you can’t be loved, in return. Looking back up at Sophia, you exhale. “You’re right,” you admit, ducking your head. “Thank you.”

It surprises you, when Sophia reaches for your hand. Her grip is strong, smile bright – much like her son. “Of course,” she nods, before closing her eyes.

The steady beep of the machine goes on.

It’s weeks later, her surgery is determined to be a mastectomy. Despite the chemo, despite how her tumor has shrunk – Sophia’s doctor still recommends the entire breast be removed. You know clinically speaking, this is the right call to make. It’s what was suggested, right from the start, especially given that this is a re-lapse.

Sophia agrees with the doctor, much to your surprise. You wonder if, she did the chemo more for her family than for her – if she knew they wanted the less invasive procedure, and humored him. It’s not what you would have done but then, not everyone is you. A mastectomy will give Sophia the greatest chance of survival, the greatest chance of defeating the disease – though it’s more painful, both emotionally and physically.

Sophia declares she wants it, though – and Jackson and her husband fall in line. Jackson was angry at first; though he softens, once he realizes it’s what she truly wants. He and his dad still fret, though. They insist on being there all throughout pre-op, assuring Sophia that they’ll be there as soon as she wakes up.

You’re there as well, mostly for Jackson – but also for Sophia, whom you’ve grown close to, as of late. Standing in the room with them, Jackson’s hand continually seeks yours. His arm half-slides around you, touching for reassurance, for the comfort you offer freely.

You still haven’t said, ‘I love you,’ but honestly, there just hasn’t been time. You’ve both been busy, working alternating shifts of night and day. Even when you’re not at the hospital, one of you is asleep or with Sophia. Any other free time is spent collapsed in front of a TV. It’s not the bad kind of silence, far from it – it’s just that life is hard, and you’re utterly exhausted.

The two of you talk, in the presence of Sophia. You talk a lot – sometimes too loud, sometimes over-bright, so when you return home, it’s nice to be quiet. Nice, to gather strength from the silence and presence of another. Jackson doesn’t say much to you, but you know when he’s worried. Know when he’s stressed, like he is now, with the weight of this surgery hanging over him. You don’t want to add to these worries, despite your talk with Sophia.

The surgery day dawns, bright and sunny – something which seems like it should be a good omen. It seems like it should, which is why you can’t shake the feeling that something will go wrong. Maybe it’s just pessimism, but pessimism on the whole is hard to shake. This surgery has a high success rate, Sophia is in otherwise good health – there’s no reason for anything to go wrong. Still, you think of Mr. Ronstein – think of all those one in one hundred cases that go wrong.

A mastectomy is typically around 2-3 hours long. Sophia’s should be of similar length, and when she’s wheeled out of pre-pp, the three of you go to wait in the lobby. The couches are hard, uncomfortable surfaces made for hard, uncomfortable decision and you settle onto one hesitantly. Today is a day both you and Jackson took off work. You made sure this happened, switched with three different people to ensure you have the entire day. Jackson needs you.

He lies with his head in your lap, saying nothing while you push fingertips through his hair. His gaze is tense, eyes fixed on the door before you. His father tries to read, but the pages shake in his hands. He says this helps, though, having something to do with his mind.

Two hours pass, then three. Jackson grows anxious, staring at the clock between glancing at the doors – you fight the urge to tell him a watching pot never boils. He knows this, so do you – but it does nothing to alleviate the worry.

“Why hasn’t she come out yet,” Jackson exhales, sitting up. He looks around, searching – then stands, rising stiffly from the couch.

“Jackson,” you sigh – before standing as well. It is odd, for things to take this long. You don’t want to admit it – you imagine, Jackson also does not – but it’s rare, for good news to follow a wait of this length.

Jackson reaches the receptionist first. He tries to smile, placing both palms flat upon the counter. “Hi,” he looks down at the woman. “I’m Jackson Wang; my mother, Sophia Wan, is a patient of –”

“Dr. Zimmerman,” the woman nods, glancing up. “I know. How can I help?”

“Well,” Jackson starts – then turns, as a pink-scrubbed nurse pushes open the doors to the lobby.

She looks tired, dark circles beneath her eyes while searching the room. When she sees Jackson, she exhales – walking briskly in your direction, still saying nothing. You recognize her, though you can’t recall her name. Sarah, maybe – the two of you have rarely had reason to interact, in the time that you’ve been here.

She comes to a stop, several feet away. “Hi,” she says, glancing around. “I’m Sandra. Jackson Wang, right? I need to speak with your father, as well.”

Jackson’s father joins and you blink, not having seen him move. Based on her words, it seems Sandra doesn’t know Jackson personally, just of him. Her gaze is tight, though sympathetic upon Jackson’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Wang’s hand finds Jackson’s. “What seems to be the matter?”

“The surgery is taking longer than expected,” Sandra confirms. “Sophia reacted poorly to the anesthesia, they had to try several different things to get it under control.”

“I,” Jackson inhales, eyes wide. “What do you mean, she reacted poorly? Is she okay? Is she having trouble breathing – did the surgery continue?”

“Jackson,” his father warns, nodding at Sandra to continue. “Go on.”

“The surgery is ongoing,” Sandra informs. “It will likely be another hour – the surgeon just wanted me to tell you why. I’m sorry,” she adds. “I wish I could be of more help, but that’s all they told me. I really have to go now,” she winces, looking at the clock. “I just stopped by in between patients.”

When Jackson nods, she turns – pushing open the doors and disappearing once more.

Jackson stares, hands shaking at his sides. You wind your fingers in his, pulling him gently to the couch while Mr. Wang follows. He sits on a chair jerkily, lowering his body before resting his face in his palms. Jackson remains still, staring at the spot where the nurse disappeared. Softly, you wrap your arms around his waist – mostly, because you can’t think of anything else to do.

“It was too easy,” Jackson chokes, the words soft. “Things were going too well.”

He looks defeated, broken – so you pull back to look at him. “No,” you declare, meeting his gaze. “You can’t think like that. Your mom can, and will pull through this. She’s strong, Jackson. You’re strong – even if you stop believing, I won’t. I’ve believe enough for you, me – this whole hospital.”

Jackson licks his lips, eyes red. Then lowers his head, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you,” he exhales, and you wait like that.

It’s another hour, before the second nurse enters. Another hour, before any new news – the second nurse walks out differently though, hope in her eyes.  She smiles, explaining that Sophia is fine – everything is fine. She underwent a complete mastectomy, unfortunately – her nipple was removed, in the process. You were hoping this could be avoided, but it appears this was not possible. The situation with her anesthesia was remedied, Sophia remained under the entire surgery. She’s waking up now, though she’s still groggy. You’ll be able to visit, soon.

Mr. Wang cries, upon hearing this. Jackson doesn’t break down – not yet – but he turns, wrapping his arms around his father. He holds him, as the older man cries into his shoulder. The sight is unexpected – before, you found them to be dissimilar. Not in a bad way, just that they were different. You though of Jackson’s father as stoic, silent – in direct opposition to his bubbly son. Now though, you see how similar they are.

Both are brave, both force themselves to seem strong – they hold on, until that moment when they no longer can. Until that moment when they no longer can, and the world comes crashing down around them. It’s only the way that they wear their masks, that’s different.

Jackson’s father goes to visit first – he exits alone and once gone, Jackson looks at you. “I don’t know what to say,” he admits, voice hoarse. He reaches for you subconsciously, pulling you closer. “You’ve given me so much,” he murmurs, speaking into your hair, “so much, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t,” you exhale, wrapping your arms tighter. “You don’t.”

[Master List]

[taurus-annie-main]

Who Are You?

Summary : The first letter you receive from Happiness Delight simply demands you to respond, and knowing full well you shouldn't, you write one back. 

Word count : 5.6k

Genre: Fluff / Angst 

You stumbled up the stairs with your hands braced against Molls shoulder for dear life. The puddles your heels had had the unfortunate fate of meeting were lit by the orange glow of the street lamps, but still, you stepped into another. Molls nearly slipped on the cobblestone, but your hands were quickly at her waist.

"Shit, how are we gonna get inside!" she said. "Fucking wet stone. Who thought of this?"

Your hand aimed to place a finger at your lips, but the digit ended up somewhere along your cheek. "The neighbours!"

"I'm being quiet," her voice was an oddly loud whisper.

Stood before the door, your hand dug inside your bag until you felt the cold but familiar set of keys. Suddenly feeling the chill biting at your exposed skin, you wedged the door open. You stepped in and Molls fell into you, closing the door on her way.

"Take off your shoes you idiot," You said as she absentmindedly pushed you.

"No, I'm going straight to bed," she said. "See you in the morning. And thanks for letting me stay."

You shook your head and watched as she disappeared up the stairs in a clack of heels. Stupid, you thought to yourself the moment you heard a soft thud, either she'd found your bed or she'd slumped down on the floor somewhere. She was always somewhat of a ditz, but her clumsiness doubled by tenfold with the odd glass of wine or gin.

"Don't throw up on my bed!" You said. "And you're welcome."

"I won't!" She shouted.

You slipped on your slippers and walked to your living room, realistically, you should've joined Molls and crawled down into bed, but you were still buzzing with euphoria. You'd made it, you'd made your mark in the most cutthroat industry, who could sleep after that?

You reached down to the book that lay half open on your coffee table. The Flowers of Mist. A psychological mystery novel set in a seemingly idyllic neighbourhood. Winner of the Debutante Award, rated 4.5 stars by the Daily Mint and called the next Stephen King.

The best part of it all? All 427 pages were written by you.

Today your publishing company had held a dinner in your honour. The feeling of going to a party honouring your novel could only be described as surreal. For years you'd been in the background, swinging back the wine at other people's celebrations, watching in bitterness, but every writer felt like that, it's natural. You'd just smile and congratulate the writer and then go back to mulling over your glass. Long gone where those days.

Falling down into the couch, you slipped the pins out from your hair and let the flocks fall around you.  You were settled between the cushion, reading over the dedications when you noticed the small stack of envelopes beside a mug of stale coffee. Then it clicked, the letters! Giselle, your editor, had dropped them off at your apartment the other day, but amidst your bumbling around for the party, they'd slipped from your mind.

The stack was wrapped up in red ribbon and a note hung from the side.'Your fans want to talk to you!' The stack had been slowly accumulating since the public release of your book and for some reason you'd yet to become numb at the thought of people sending you letters, praising your book or some criticising. The people writing could well be the same people that shoved you in the train, or possibly the ones who'd lend you money for parking. It was an odd feeling but you loved it, and so, you tore the first one open.

Dear M,

To be honest, when I first saw your book online I thought it was going to be another Gone Girl, but, I'm pleasantly surprised! Monroe Estate gives me Stepford Wives vibes and I love it, not that I'd want to become a Stepford wife but I loved it! Can't wait till your next book.

From Angie

Smiling, you slipped the letter into its torn envelope and placed it at your side. You wasted no time in opening the next envelope.

Dear M,

CAN I SAY SHIT?! and I don't mean the bad shit, I mean the good type! I don't even know if you'll get this letter or if I'm even gonna write the right address on it, but that was one of the best thriller's I've read. Keep up the good and is there a sequel in the works.

From Jay.

Admittedly, this one had cooked up a small laugh from you. You'd write back to this one tomorrow. You picked up the next letter.

Dear M,

I'm not a fan mail type of guy, I actually cringe at the stuff and prefer to admire my idols from afar, but I've just finished Flowers of the Mist, literally, and I took out a pen and paper. FUCK ME WHEN I SAY YOU GOT ME! I was so sure it was the Guildford sister, they seemed to fit the bill but best believe I nearly screamed when you revealed it was Sandra P. I really should've known, anyone who gardens that much could truly be sane.

As much as I loved it, I have to say you totally forgot something. I know it's not a big deal but I'm anal about stuff like that. Ok so, what happened with Joel? You practically had whole chapter dedicated to him but, he just went away. Oh and, I think you wrote the wrong location for Mainstay bridge, Apple Tree Yard is located on the east of the river not the west.

Still, the book was amazing.

Meaningless question, but, do you listen to The Mace? It's a true crime podcast, please listen to it! It's on Spotify.

Yours sincerely, Happiness Delight.

You held the letter in your hand, mulling over each word. You couldn't help but snort, this Happiness Delight person was a real piece of work. However, as much a it pained you to agree, you did happen to forget about Joel, but Joel was a minor character, some to throw the scent off, so did it really matter?

You placed the letter at your side and reached to the notepad and found a pen somewhere in the crack off your sofa. You used the back of your book and put pen to paper. There was something about Happiness's Delight's letter that demanded you to respond, even though you weren't allowed to respond yet. Giselle had this rule that any author must not respond to fan-mail during the press run. The rule was put in stone after a scandalous fiasco with Young Adult Author, Katrina Howell. However, with the alcohol in your blood the rules were null and void, surely you wouldn't become the next Katrina Howell.

Dear Happiness Delight,

I'm not really supposed to be responding to you yet, but I've just read your letter and I had to respond. Call it a urge or something, but I had to. First of all, I'd like to say thank you for reading and buying Flowers of The Mist, it's my pride and joy and the thought of someone buying it makes me happy. I'm also delighted by the fact that the twist blew you away so much so that you just had to write to me. It took a lot of time coming up with it, and I've spent too many mornings with my cat deliberating if it should happen, so hearing it surprised you made me smile.

Onto the good bit.

First off all, don't kick yourself for being an anal person, it's what the writing world loves. Here's the thing about Joel, he was really just a scapegoat character and I didn't want to develop him into anything. However, if I did have to give Joel some kind of resolution, I feel as though he'd have made up with his Aunts for framing him. After all, they did raise him. In regards to Joe's Diner, I've only ever been there once so forgive me for my mistakes. You certainly have a keen eye.

Sorry, I don't really listen to podcasts, but I might check it out some time soon. I'm a true crime buff myself.

From M, the writer of thrillers.

You folded the paper and placed it on the coffee table, you'd mail it before heading into the vet. You took one final look at the rest of the unopened letters and placed them back onto the table, you'd read them tomorrow, as of now, your eyes were straining to stay open.

You awaken by a scratch to your feet. You cracked one eye open and looked down at the culprit. His beady eyes stared back you with vigour.

"Monsieur...what are you doing?" Your voice was croaked and dry. Monsieur, your cat, was busy as your feet tapping the painted toes with his paws. "You surprised to see me down here? God how did I even fall asleep here."

You threw the blanket off your body,but then realised you hadn't fell asleep with a blanket. The identity of the blanket culprit was solved the moment you had the crash of metal in your kitchen. Molls.

"Don't mess up my kitchen, I just cleaned," you shouted. "What are you making?"

"Eggs and sausage, it's the only thing you've got," she said. "Do you go shopping, like ever?"

"I shop for two, me and Monsieur," You said, scooping him it your hold. He struggled ever so slightly in your grasp, but that was typical of Monsieur, he was a man that didn't like to be handled. You scratched behind his ear, earning you a pleasant purr. Before you could do anymore, he leapt from your lap and dived towards his toy.

Minutes went by and before you knew it, Molls walked into the living carrying two plates. Monsieur, the greedy pig was already at her legs having been drawn by the scent of food. "Shoo Monsieur, I've already fed you." she said, nudging him to the side ever so slightly. "He's getting overweight."

She handed you the plate and sat by your side. "He loves food too much."

You prodded the scrambled eggs with your fork, you preferred a sunny side up. "He's not overweight, but I am taking him to the vet. He just needs to move a bit more."

"A bit?" She said before biting a sausage. "What with the letters?"

"Which letters?" You asked.

She pointed to the stack on the coffee table. "Oh, yeah, those are the fan letters Giselle gave me. I only read through like what? Three, but I'm gonna read the rest."

She picked your notepad up. "You're writing back already? Giselle's gonna kill you...Dear Happiness De-"

You snatched the notepad from her fingers, "It's not for you, fan only. Don't tell Giselle, she's gonna lecture me on Katrina."

"I won't but speaking of the devil, did you see Kat giving you evils at the party?" she said, smirking into her glass of water. "She wishes your book would've sunk."

"Hey, leave the poor woman alone, she made one mistake-"

"She sent a fan nudes." she said. "Was that really a mistake?"

"Writers have needs too," you said before taking a bite off your half-burnt sausage.

Sometime after the second cup of tea, Molls boyfriend better yet, boy toy, arrives to come pick her up. You wave bye to her and promise to meet up for lunch on Wednesday. With her gone, you decide to head up stairs and scrub off the remnants off makeup which hadn't smeared onto the cushions. Refreshed from your shower, you dressed and scooped Monsieur into his cage. You placed the sloppy letter you'd written into your bag.

During your drives you listened to whatever was on the radio, but today you'd decided to connect your phone into the speakers and play episode one of The Mace; The podcast Happiness Delight recommend. Monsieur growled in his cage, obviously not used to the voices of two men speaking about crime, he preferred the top 40. Each episode was twenty minutes and you found yourself going through them quick. In the waiting room with Monsieur you'd reached the fifth episode. Park and Jun were the hosts of the show and their wit had you hooked.

On the drive back, you stopped by the post office and sent the letter with a note telling Happiness Delight to reply to your PO box instead. The last thing you needed was Giselle forcing the Katrina story down your throat.

A week passed before you got the first reply back. You'd almost forgotten about Happiness Delight until your postal company messaged you about a letter. After an interview with Times Morning, you headed down to the postal office and retrived the letter.

Once in the comfort of your living you tore the letter open.

Dear M,

First of all, holy shit! I didn't think you'd reply and thank you for taking the risk, it was worth it. I'm surprised you wanted to write back so quick, I guess I do have some charm, right? The twist was amazing and I think i'm gonna rave about it for the rest of my life...well that is until you release your next novel. (Since I'm your favourite fan, can you drop some hints on the next book?). A cat? Dogs are superior.

Thanks for clearing up the Joel situation and I totally get what you meant. It's weird to think he would've made up with them but human psyche is a weird one (if you listen to The Mace then you'll know what I mean). Haha, the keen eye is the result of eating every burger off the menu, college was hard. Since you're becoming one of my favourite authors, i'm gonna give you a top tip. Next time you go to Apple Tree Yard, ask for a Mango-slaw burger (I'm assuming you're not a vegetarian). It'll be the best thing you ever ate.

Have you listened to The Mace yet? Nonetheless, it's always great to meet another true crime buff.

Yours Sincerely, Happiness Delight.

By the time you'd read it over again, the black fluff that was Monsieur had pounced on your lap and began pawing at the letter. "Monsieur honey, no!"

He meowed backS and leapt at the letter you were now holding up high. "Honey, this is an important letter, you can't rip it apart."

When Monsieur had finally resigned his reign of terror on Happiness Delight's letter, you took your notepad and pen from the coffee table.

Dear Happiness Delight,

Gosh you make me feel like I'm a celebrity, I'm just a measly little writer. Hmm, not to sure on the charm part but I'll let you have it for now. Just make sure not to accidently send your letters to the publishing House! If I could tell you when my next book will come out, I'd be a psychic. Favourite fan? that's a bold statement but I'll go along with it again. Well, my dear favourite fan, I have about fifty different ideas about the next book, but I'm thinking about a faternity gone wrong or Angel of death. How does it sound?

I totally agree, the human psyche is wild and unpredictable, I guess that why I write thrillers. Now that i think about it, it might be why I cheered the villians on in cartoons. I hope I'm not the only one who did that. Burgers aren't good for the health but I will check out the Mango-slaw.

I've actually listened to the podcast, I went through five in one day and i'm on the twelfth episode. I would have gotten further but, my week's been jam packed.

From M, the writer of thrillers.

"We're having lunch here?" Molls under her breath as she followed you into Apple Tree Yard. "I fucking hate you. You literally said we're having lunch at Rain's."

You grinned back at her. "Change of plans, it's a bit nostalgic coming back here."

"Remember when Tom took me here," she said. "I'm shivering just thinking about him."

You both found a cozy little booth my window, it overlooked the almost barren car park and you could see the bridge from here. "He killed me that day, who orders turkey dinosaurs on a romantic date?"

"Him," she said. "Why did you even bring us here? You haven't mentioned this place for a good twenty years and now you decide to?"

You hold one finger up, "Actually, it's my book. However, I was persuaded to come here by a certain fan."

"That Happiness something? And you're still writing back. "

You nodded."Delight. Happiness Delight. He's actually quite interesting and he's got a good taste in podcasts."

"Podcasts! Since when do you listen to podcasts? I've literally been trying to get you to listen to Agony Jen for like a good five years!" she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Snake."

"I listened to one episode and it was a mess. Most the problems could be solved by simply ignoring said person or finding a hobby. I don't know how you can suffocate it."

"Honey, I write borderline erotic romantic novels; I live for that shit." she said, cracking a mischievous grin. "How this podcast of yours like?"

"Good, it's dark, true crime but the hosts are funny. It balances out," you said, opening the menu. Your eyes looked around burgers section, searching for the highly commended Mango-slaw. "Molls, do you see a mango-slaw burger on here."

She narrowed her eyes and took one menu. "I don't think there's ever been a mango-slaw on this menu. And what the hell's a mango-slaw?"

You shrugged. "Some burger Happiness recommend-"

She shuts her menu. "We came here for a fucking burger that might not even be real?! I'm telling Giselle before it gets out of hand."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh come on, you're overreacting."

"We'll see if I'm overreacting when you end up on the news," she said. "Lets just call the waitress before I die of hunger."

"Nothing bad's gonna happen," you lifted your hand and caught the eye of a waitress. The waiter, who was vigorously chewing bubble gum, walked to your booth notepad in hand. Molls ordered her meal, spicy chicken wings and a side of chips and then the waitress turned to you.

"Do you have mango-slaw?"

She furrowed her eyebrow, "Mango-slaw? Miss, we don't serve that here."

Your face instantly became heated, had Happiness Delight tricked you? That scheming ass you thought. Molls looked as though she was on the brink of laughing. "Oh really...ok, um, I'll just have a cheese burger with chips. And one Seven Up."

She nodded and wrote your order down, all the while looking at you with caution. She probably thought you were crazy. "I'll give these to the chef."

"Thank you," your voice was meek.

Twenty minutes later, the waitress came back bearing the burgers and chips. You went through the meal silently cursing Happiness.

When you stopped at the postal office, you decided to make an amend to your letter. You wrote under the last paragraph.

Were you tricking me with the Mango Slaw? I was at Apple Tree Yard and I asked for one but the waitress looked at me crazy. If so, you're a good trickster Mr Happiness Delight.

Once happy with it, you folded the paper back up and sealed it into the envelope for posting.

Dear M,

You're a celebrity to me and I'll take it, but don't be amazed when my charm grows on you. And I just want t say my highest achievement so far is you naming me your favourite fan, I'll write it on my tombstone when I die...hopefully you would've released twenty more books in that space of time. Personally I love the Angel of Death idea, it's always fascinated me. Ever heard of Harold Shipman.

You're not alone in the cheering villains on front. While everyone else was cheering Hercules on, I was on Hades' side.

In regards to the Mango-slaw event, I probably should've been more clear but don't ask the new waiters, you're gonna have to go the chef. Specifically one called Kyungsoo...now, he might try to throw a pan at you but he will make it.

Since you've listened to the podcast, whose is your favourite host?

Yours Sincerely, Happiness Delight.

Dear Happiness Delight,

I think your charms already growing on me! Don't forget to tell me what plot you'll be on, I'll come visit you and take a picture of it. I hope i'll be able to get through twenty books, it took me too long to write Flowers of the Mist! And yes I've heard of Harold Shipman, what true crime buff hasn't?

Oh see there we've got a problem, I was on Hercules side and that's only because Hades scared me. I was an easily scared child.

I hope you're not playing a trick on me, but if I ever do get time I'll go again, hopefully when that waitress isn't working.

I don't know if this is overstepping boundaries but, I have book signing coming up. Please come, if you can. Since you know Apple Tree Yard then I'm guessing you live around here, so if you can make it, please do. It's at Vick’s Bookstore from 3pm to 5pm. We'll be having lunch after.

For some reason, I think Park is my favourite. He's very funny, not that Jun isn't! Maybe it's the deep voice...I don't know.

From M, writer of thrillers.

The postal office receptionist watched you in growing annoyance as you stood at the desk reading the words. Was it too early to casually invite him to your book signing and dinner after? Furthermore, what if it all went wrong and you were possibly inviting a stalker into your life? Every writer had heard the horror stories of writers having stalkers, some made the stop writing or worse. Maybe it was pure foolishness and naivety, but you trusted Happiness Delight.

"Uh, Ma'am...will you be sending the letter?" The receptionist voice caused you break from your stupor.

"Sorry," you said, shoving the paper back into envelope and passing it the receptionist.

As you left the office, your phone rang, it was Giselle on the line. She talked about finalising the details, now would've been the best time to tell her Happiness but you shut your mouth in better judgement. When he came to the dinner, that's he if came, you'd tell her he was just a friend.

"God, you're shaking like a leaf" Giselle said. She handed you a glass of white wine but you refused. Your stomach couldn't handle alcohol this early.

"I'm just nervous," you said. "It's my first book signing so...Yeah"

"You'll be fine, you just gotta smile but you might be holding quite a few babies," she said, slapping a hand on your shoulder. It's meant to be a gesture of comfort, but pain surges through your muscles. She had a hard hit for a fifty-something woman.

"I don't mind babies," you said. "I just don't want to disappoint anyone and there's just so many people out there."

You peeked out of the glass windows, there was a steady line of people stood outside the doors, some carry books and some purchasing the book from the store. There were all types of people, but you looked for one person. Happiness. Would you know who was happiness the moment you saw him? You'd built a picture of him in your mind but you didn't even know his name for crying out loud. This was stupid.

You wouldn't have been this nervous if he'd replied. Usually, it took him a week to reply and that's understanable, mail takes time. But it was now two weeks since you'd sent the letter. You'd gone to the PO box near enough daily, but nothing was there. Molls had said it might have been lost, but it seemed so impossible.

"Sweetie, they're gonna open the doors," Giselle said. "Do you want some water?"

You nodded as she led you to the front of the store.

"Hey, you! Can you get her some water. Bottled." Giselle said to some young employee.

You took your seat at the table they'd decorated with a stack of your book and a picture of yourself. It wasn't the best of pictures. You thanked the employee and immediately took a gulp of water. You placed the bottle down as you watched the line of people stream in. You clicked the pen two times, just to check.

"Hey, I just want to say I love your book," A girl handed you her copy.

"Thank you so much, it took some time to write. What's your name?" You asked, opening the book on the first blank page.

"Farrah, it's my name," she said, her pock marked face was wide with a smile.

You wrote a small message addressed to her and signed your own signature. You handed the book to her, "Thank you so much for coming."

The next person came, a man. Your heart raced for a moment, what if it was Happiness Delight? You took the book from him and signed it as Andy. He didn't seem like Happiness Delight. If Happiness Delight did turn up he'd probably tell you who he was.

As the fans continuted to flood in drones, your eyes continuously flew over to the clock on the wall. It was nearly time for a break and still Happiness hadn't come. It pained you to admit it but you were losing hope. Maybe it was like Molls said, the mail had gotten lost.

You took your break in the store's staff room. It was only a small break and you spent most of it on your phone, anything to put your mind off him. But the longer you sat there, you'd began to grow angry at yourself. This was your first signing, people had travelled for good knows how far just to get your signature and a small chat. As you walked back into the store front you told yourself not to think about him, just smile and appreciate it, not every one got to do a book signing.

The second half moved quick and you joked more with your fans. And you'd taken the odd picture with a baby and someone's child. You'd been stretching your hands when Giselle tapped your shoulder, she leant down to your ear.

"This is the last bunch, we're going after these," She said.

You nodded and turned back to the next person. "Hello, how are you?" You asked, smiling up at the man.

"Good, I think" He said, you couldn't help but notice he was nervous. He was holding the book with a near white grip. "You?"

"Good too," you answered. "Shoud I sign your book?"

"Yes, of course," he handed you the book and you flipped to the blank page.

"Who should I address it to?" You asked, the tip of your pen touching the page.

"To H-no...sorry, just Chanyeol," he said. "Just Chanyeol."

"Beautiful name," you said, writing his name before the small note and your own signature. You closed the book, "Here you go."

"Thank you so much, and I love your book," he said.

"Thank you too."

He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. You watched him smile then leave the line, his lanky body weaving in between bodies and before he got the door, he cast you a fleeting glance before walking out into the rain. You looked up to the next person.

"Hi, how are you?" you said to them.

When the last person had walked out the door, you released a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. It was over, the fans had come and he hadn't.

"You good?" Giselle asked.

"Just peachy," you said. "Which resturant we were going to again? Oh, and my plus one won't make it."

The Mace, episode 37 played in your car as you drove to Apple Tree Yard. As you took the next exit your phone pinged, a message. You peered down at the screen to see who it was from, your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was from. Angelo, he'd interviewed you for the Daily Mint. You'd run into him at grocery, you'd been looking for a certain brand of cat food since Monsieur was picky. In the brief conversation you'd had while trying to find the food, you'd ended you exchanging numbers. You'd text him back when you were in the restaurant.

You pulled your keys from the ignition and made your way inside. You'd come at a busy time, the high-school kids from the neighbouring school had invaded near enough all the booths and you couldn't bring yourself to walk down the aisle. Teenagers had a knack of scaring you. So, you settled down at the bar, from here, you could see the cooks flipping burger meat, one flame grilling steak and another chopping onions into fine pieces.

"what you having doll?" the woman behind the bar asked.

"Can I get the cheese burger please, with a side of chips and mango juice." you said.

She scribbled your order down, "sure, would that be all?"

"Yeah- actually, sorry but does a chef called Kyungsoo work here?" you asked, the question had been a split second decision. You can just wanted to out the whole Happiness Delight debacle to rest. Molls had been so convinced that Happiness was simply a fantasist.

The older woman furrowed her brows and for a second you thought Molls was right along, but then she nodded. "Yeah, he works here. You need to talk to him or something... Wait, you're not a cop right?"

You almost laughed in relief. "No I'm just a normal citizen. I just want to ask him about something."

"alright, I'll bring him over."

Your fingers tapped the wooden counter as you waited forher to bring him. Minutes later, the woman came back but with a man in tow. He was wearing his chef gowns and curious look on his face.

"Hi, I'm kyungsoo. You are?" he asked.

You told him your name. "I'm sorry for the bother I wanted to ask you something."

"No problem, I wasn't doing much," he said.

"Well, that's good. This is gonna sound stupid but someone told me to come here before and they said something about this Mango-slaw burger."

"Mango-slaw?" He stopped for a second then sighed hard. "Chanyeol that bastard...he sent you here didn't he?"

The name rung familiar but you couldn't place it. Was this Chanyeol character Happiness Delight? "I'm sorry, but who's Chanyeol?"

Kyungsoo face contorted into one of confusion. "Park Chanyeol, well Chanyeol Park but that doesn't matter. He's the only idiot that orders this burger." He paused to look at your equally confused face. "Was it not him? He's like too fucking tall, big ears, and an idiot."

You tried hard to place a name to the description but you just couldn't. "I don't really know."

"Then who else- Wait, lemme show you a picture," he dug inside the pocket of his uniform, then scrolled through his phone, "Here's a picture of him."

You squinted your eyes at the picture. Where did you know him from? He looked so familiar but the memory was so blurry. The picture of Chanyeol was a guy wearing a large hoodie, hair tousled. He looked to be in some kind of recording studio, but you really didn't know, he just had a mic in front of him. If the microphone in front of him was anything to go by.

Wait a second, that guy. guy who'd come for a book sign, the one who was acting weird. It had to be him but his hair had changed, it was now a dark auburn colour. You thanked the forces that you'd' been sat on the chair, if not, you're certain your knee's would've collapsed. That man was Happiness Delight. He'd came.

"Do you know where he is? I really need to talk to him," you said.

"Uh I don't know where exactly he'd be right now, but I can give you his number," He said.

"That'll be amazing."

He took a piece a paper from behind the counter and scribbled Chanyeol's number down. "There you go. Oh and do you want the burger?"

You shook your head and took the scrap piece of paper. "I don't think I can eat."

You had the paper in your pocket for a good three days, looking over the numbers over and over. Two months had passed between the last letter you received, and you hadn't even opened it.

You pressed the numbers into your phone, pausing a moment you pressed call. The phone rang three times.

"Hello, who's this?" The voice asked.

Why did he sound so familiar? How was it so that you'd recognised his voice than you did his face.

"Uh...hello? Is anybody there. I can hear you breathing?"

Park, it was Park's voice. You felt as though the air in your body had been forced out. Of course, Park Chanyeol. Happiness Delight was the voice of the man you'd been listening to for the last few months.

"Happiness Delight?" Your vocie was feeble and you'd almost doubted he'd heard it.

"M?"