#took it upon herself to be the reporter for the family and let everyone in my family (including ppl i dont even talk to) know my results

[itshomobirb]

my mother, who knows i have POTS and knows i need to wear compression gear or else my blood will pool in my legs/feet (turning them red/purple), upon seeing my bare feet bc i havent put on my compression socks yet: ew borb why are your feet red? 😰

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 1 | Bucky

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You were exhausted. Having just returned from covering another incident, you were familiar with the grueling reality of being a journalist in a foreign country.

Limited access compared to local reporters made the job even more challenging. Despite your fatigue, this was the career you had chosen and loved.

When you arrived at your apartment, you noticed a woman waiting for you. She was shorter and bustier than you, with curly, short red hair. The woman approached you with a confident stride.

“Hello. My name is Natasha,” she introduced herself, handing you a business card.

You glanced at the card, noting her affiliation with the Secret Service.

Is this for real?

“Yes. How may I help you?” You asked, confusion evident in your voice as you fumbled with your keys at the doorknob.

“I’m here to bring you back home,” Natasha replied.

“Why?” you asked, still trying to process why a Secret Service agent would be looking for you.

“Because your husband is looking for you,” Natasha said.

You froze, your mind struggling to make sense of what you had just heard. Turning slowly, you looked at Natasha, your face betraying a hint of incredulous amusement. “I’m sorry? You must be mistaken. I’ve been divorced for years.”

“Yes, I know the story,” Natasha said, her tone steady.

“Goodbye then,” you said quickly, attempting to close the door. The mention of your ex-husband was something you had left behind, and you wanted nothing to do with it.

“The divorce was never finalized,” Natasha said firmly.

“What?” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in disbelief. You had signed the documents, or so you thought. You swung the door open wide and saw two more men standing beside Natasha, their presence making it clear you were outnumbered—three to one.

“Seems like you’ve come to understand the situation,” Natasha said. “I’ll explain everything, but for now, you need to follow me.”

What she meant by following her quickly became apparent as the men gently but firmly guided you toward a car.

Inside, you hoped Natasha would provide answers, but she continued making calls, leaving you in a state of growing frustration.

Upon arriving at the airport, you realized it was not a regular one but a private jet facility.

“Let’s go,” Natasha said, gesturing toward the plane’s stairs.

As you climbed aboard, you noticed Natasha following closely behind. An air steward offered you a tray with a cup of jasmine tea. You took a sip, the delicate aroma providing a brief moment of comfort.

“Let me guess, this is his plane?” you asked, your tone tinged with suspicion.

“Yes,” Natasha nodded.

As the plane took off, the tension in the cabin was palpable.

“You still haven’t said a word,” you remarked, trying to break the silence.

“Because of the timing and for precautions,” Natasha said, her expression serious. “You won’t like what I’m going to say.”

“Tell me something I don’t hate more. You know how much I despise my ex-husband and his family,” you snapped, the bitterness clear in your voice. The memories of their interference and disdain for your background still stung deeply.

“Your husband is going to be the candidate for Vice President,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the gravity of the news.

“...What?” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you processed the information.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she pulled out a tablet and handed it to you. On the screen, you saw a video of your ex-husband. He stood proudly in a suit, smiling and raising his arms as the crowd erupted in cheers.

The title beneath the video read, “James Barnes: The Youngest Candidate for Vice President.”

You gasped, your disbelief palpable. “This is a joke.”

“Hundreds of supporters don’t think it’s a joke, ma’am,” Natasha replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

“And the reason I’m here is because he needs you,” she continued.

You clenched your fists in anger. The reason for your resentment was clear: his ambition and his family’s obsessive involvement in politics. Their relentless meddling had been one of the key reasons for your separation.

“Turn this plane around,” you demanded, your voice strained. You didn’t understand why, but exhaustion was overtaking you, and your eyes felt heavy.

Natasha glanced at her watch, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. “You must be feeling sleepy.”

You widened your eyes and looked at the tea cup, realizing its effects. You shot Natasha a glare, frustration mixing with fatigue.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am,” Natasha said, accepting a blanket from the air stewardess.

You wanted to protest, but the energy drained from you. As your vision dimmed, you felt a wave of drowsiness. You closed your eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Natasha watched you as you fell asleep, then carefully draped the blanket over you. She turned to her colleagues with a resolute expression. “Tell him to pick up his wife.”

✈️✈️✈️✈️✈️

You slowly regained consciousness, your head feeling heavy and foggy. As you blinked open your eyes, the reality of your surroundings became clear: you were still on the airplane, but it had stopped moving. The plane had arrived, and you were still groggy from the drugs.

“Welcome home,” a familiar voice said.

You widened your eyes, trying to focus on the figure before you. There, standing with a knowing smile, was your ex-husband, Bucky.

His smile seemed almost out of place given the situation, and you found it impossible to return it. You struggled to sit up, your limbs feeling leaden.

“Of course,” you said, your voice thick with sarcasm. “The last thing I needed was to wake up and see your smug face.”

Bucky’s expression remained impassive. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want to offend the future Vice President.”

“Future Vice President, huh?” you shot back, your irritation flaring. “Is that why you dragged me back here? You need a trophy wife to complete your perfect image?”

“You’re not just a trophy wife,” Bucky said, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re a crucial part of my public image. A divorce would be a PR disaster.”

“Is that right?” you snapped. “You’re using me as a prop, aren’t you? You couldn’t just leave me alone. Some of us have lives outside your political games.”

“You think this is bad?” Bucky said, frustration seeping into his voice. “Imagine what would happen if the public found out about our separation. It’s all about maintaining appearances.”

“You’re still the same,” you said, your anger flaring.

Bucky’s expression hardened. “Let’s be honest here. You wouldn’t have left if you didn’t think I was using you. But if you think this is a game, you’re wrong. I need you to play along until the election.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged.

“One year,” Bucky said, his gaze steady. “Until the election is over. Then I’ll give you anything you want. Just play the part of a happy wife until then.”

You knew why he needed you. His political career depended on maintaining a perfect public image. Only a few people were aware of your separation, so you had to pretend to be a happy married couple to avoid public scrutiny.

As you struggled to stand, Bucky stepped forward to help you. His touch was steady but impersonal. Both of you exited the jet, greeted by a throng of press and cameras. The narrative they were fed was clear: the Vice Presidential candidate picking up his sick wife.

With the press closing in, you turned to Bucky and said, “I see you’ve thought this through. Dragging me back here like a prized possession. What’s next? A public appearance where we hold hands and share a tearful reunion?”

Bucky met your gaze with a calm but resolute expression. “It’s not just about appearances. The election is critical, and I need stability. Having you here will help maintain that.”

“You’re the only one I could turn to. I need you,” he said.

The words “I need you” echoed with the same urgency he once used, the very words that had drawn you to him. But now, they felt hollow.

Bucky’s expression remained unchanged. He had no apologies to offer, and the facade of your ‘happy marriage’ had to remain intact.

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[thatonebrazilian]

Tolerate it

Summary: Everyone assumed you were fine, but what would they do if you just... broke free?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; undertones of Carol Danvers x Reader; Platonic Clint Barton x Reader; mentions of platonic Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Word count: Around 6K

TW: Deep angst, assassination attempt, betrayal of trust, suicidal thoughts, dealing with grief, self sacrifices.

A/N: I've been in the mood for angst, apparently. And I actually wasn't planning on writing anything (I shouldn't have, I was short for time as it was), but I was listening to Taytay and the fic just came to me. This will probably hurt a lot. Just hurt, not much comfort. Let there be pain.

You didn't know what you did wrong. You didn't know how you could fix this. You didn't know if it even could be fixed.

All you did, all you could do, was just sit there and watch her. She was reading, her head low, almost as if she was trying to keep a barrier between you two.

You sat in the corner of the room, watching her as she immersed herself in reports. The soft glow of the lamp cast a delicate halo around her, illuminating her beautiful, beautiful features. And yet, on that night, as on many before, the light seemed unable to reach her eyes. 

You knew she was struggling, you were too. Everyone was. The Blip had taken many from their families, and the toll it took on those who stayed made many more lose their loved ones. The remaining Avengers lost Clint to his own darkness, and you lost the love of your life to what you could only describe as self-isolation.

Natasha had always had an unhealthy work-life balance, yet you always managed to counter that… But not anymore.

You had been together for what felt like an eternity, intertwined in a love that once knew no bounds. Now, though, there was a growing chasm separating the two of you. Natasha would only engage in conversations that revolved around missions and saving the world, and none of those came from you.

You used to be an Avenger too, with powers so astronomical that you never learned to control them. Bruce and Tony had to create some sort of inhibitor for you, lest you destroy the world by mistake.

You were probably one of the most powerful beings out there, but having no control whatsoever of your powers would only bring destruction, so you learned to live without them, the bracelet Tony made never leaving your wrist.

Being a somewhat powerless avenger was hard, but it was worth it. You saved people, you helped your friends.

But since the Blip things have changed. 

After watching Wanda, one of your best friends, disappear right in front of your eyes; after seeing Clint's descent into darkness, you didn't feel like fighting anymore. So you decided to stop, you stopped so you could take care of yourself, take care of Natasha.

They were small, the things you did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. You'd wait by the door every day to greet her like a god-damned war hero, to show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work; you'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with your best cutlery; you even took upon painting as it seemed to ease your mind, and you'd use your best colors for her portraits (and there were many)... And yet, all Natasha gave back were lukewarm smiles; hums, and nods in acknowledgment of your attempts at conversation, and a lackluster "thanks". 

She seemed to simply… Tolerate it.

~

You woke up in the wee hours of the morning, the sun hadn't risen yet, and the moonlight shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your gaze fell upon Natasha, who lay beside you sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring you comfort.

But then, as you watched her, you noticed a subtle alteration in her breathing patterns, something that would go unnoticed by anyone else. The steady rhythm became irregular, interrupted by moments of slightly shallower breaths and the briefest of pauses. There was a tension in her muscles that hadn't been there a second ago, almost as if a silent battle was being waged beneath her immaculate skin.

Natasha's eyes remained closed, her face serene as if she was lost in the most peaceful of dreams. But you knew the truth. She was pretending to be asleep. It felt like she didn't want to wake up beside you, like she simply tolerated your presence, but now even that tolerance seemed to be waning.

You wanted to reach out, to offer her solace, to take all the pain away, but the invisible barrier between you seemed impossible to break through. The distance that had grown between you now felt like a vast expanse, impossible to bridge. Her closed eyes spoke volumes, a silent plea for space, for time, for avoidance.

Your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, your eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears. You missed Clint, he'd know how to deal with this, he'd help her, but he'd help you, too. He'd hug you and tell you that everything was gonna be ok, he'd make sure it'd turn out that way. You missed Wanda, she'd take you out to eat ice cream, watch silly sitcoms with you, tell you the stupidest jokes just to see you crack a smile, she'd even threaten Natasha if she imagined the other redhead was hurting you in any way, shape or form.

You missed your life, your old life, before the Blip.

You turned away from her, not wanting her to see the tears in your eyes in case she opened hers.

~

As it turns out, the first time Natasha had a semblance of a real conversation with you in… You don't even know how many weeks… Was to ask you to join a team to take down whatever new evil had shown up.

You didn't even think twice about it, you took the job, you'd do anything to get closer to her again.

The team consisted of you, Steve, and Carol, who was visiting Earth. You didn't even know where you were headed or who you were facing, you just wanted to come back with an excuse to actually talk to your fianceé. 

As you prepared to get into the jet, you saw her there, giving off directions before everyone boarded. You wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between respecting Natasha's need for distance and the overwhelming desire to break through the walls she had erected. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder then, too warm to be Nat's, and you immediately felt the comfort she radiated.

Carol wasn't the most sentimental person, she wouldn't tell you that everything would be fine, she wouldn't offer comforting words, but she'd be there, a warm unwavering presence amidst the chaos (even if you rarely saw each other in person). She was the one good thing that the Blip brought you.

"Don't think too much about it," the blonde said, already knowing what was on your mind. "Keep your head in the game, I don't want you getting hurt out there, ok?"

You nodded while managing to keep to yourself the strong urge to hug her, to seek comfort in that friendly and familiar warmth of hers.

She nodded back, turned and boarded the jet, having already reviewed with Natasha her role in the mission.

You looked at your fianceé only to find her eyes already on you. You didn't think too much into it, though, she was probably just reviewing in her head the role you'd have for this mission.

Once again you found yourself wanting to go to her, but the fear of rejection loomed over you, a haunting presence that whispered of the potential pain that awaited if you ventured too close.

You turned away and stepped in the jet.

~

You stumbled into the Avengers' compound, a dull ache radiating from your wounded shoulder, the bloodstained clothes doing nothing to give you comfort.

The mission had taken an unexpected turn, and both you and Steve got shot. Multiple times.

As soon as you stepped through the quinjet's door Natasha was there, the worry in her eyes making you question if you were hallucinating. She walked to you, her eyes never leaving yours, it was almost as if you could feel her again, the old Natasha, your Natasha.

"What the fuck happened? You weren't supposed to get hurt!" she exclaimed in a mix of anger, desperation and concern. She ran her hands through her unkempt hair. It was an uncommon sight, indeed, to see her so disheveled.

You knew she had been worried, the moment Steve reported back you could hear her pacing back and forth through the comms, you just didn't know it would affect her this much. You didn't think she cared anymore.

Almost as if sensing your thoughts, Natasha took a hesitant step closer and reached for your hands. "You got me really worried." She said, her eyes looking deep into yours, her hands soothingly cold to the touch. 

You could see she wanted to say something else, but almost as if she was waging a silent war against herself, she shook her head, released your hands and sighed. "Go to the med bay. I'll meet you there."

You nodded weakly, too tired from blood loss to argue. Too tired in general.

As you made your way to the medical facilities, the pain in your shoulder intensifying with each step, you couldn't help but think of all the times Clint saved your ass from stupid bullet wounds like these, or how Wanda would literally create a shield around you whenever you faced danger.

You missed them, you missed Wanda so much, and you couldn't help but wish it was you and not her. And Clint, god, you hated what he became, you hated the Ronin, you hated that he wasn't there to heal by your side, to heal with Natasha, but you still missed him so much.

As you entered the med bay, you were greeted by a warmth that made you question how she could have gotten there first.

"Bold move, jumping in front of a sea of bullets like that" Carol said, there was no warmth in her voice though. You closed your eyes.

"I couldn't let them shoot that child," you said, sitting on a cot and looking apologetically at her.

Carol gritted her teeth, her eyes scanning your wounded shoulder, the part of you that got the most hits, with a mix of worry and anger written across her face.

"So you just deemed your life less valuable than hers and decided to throw it away?" She clenched her fists.

"That's not it and you know it," you said in a small voice. It was worse, but no, she didn't know it. She didn't need to. You didn't want to burden her too.

Carol's eyes softened, she took a couple steps towards you and touched your uninjured shoulder. "I just worry about you, sweet girl." She said and sighed, "Look, I know you don't have much to live for right now, but you're one of my best friends, I wouldn't be able to deal with it if something ever happened to you. And by the looks of it neither would Natasha, despite all the shit she's been pulling."

It was amazing how Carol, just like Wanda before her, was able to fill you with lightness. With them, as well as with Clint, you felt cherished, cared for. You could never be more thankful for the blonde in front of you. Without Clint and Wanda here to support your near Natasha-less life, Carol was the one thing keeping you sane.

You just wished being sane was enough.

You managed a weak smile, though, and even if felt forced, it still seemed to have convinced Carol that you were ok. "I'll be fine, Carebear. Just a flesh wound. I know I haven't been in the field for a while, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Carol fought off a smirk. "Promise me you won't pull shit like that again, at least".

You saluted her, a mocking smile on your face, despite the ache you felt inside. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

She chuckled and shook her head, "You're the worst".

"But you love it!" Your answering smile was more genuine this time.

Her smile grew bigger, and you wished you could see it in person more often.

"I actually do." She said, shaking her head once more and turning away to leave the med bay.

It didn't take long for a nurse to come to tend to you. There were many bullet wounds around your body, although most were superficial. The worst was indeed your shoulder, having been hit four times.

You bitterly wondered how you could still be alive with all of these bullet holes around your body.

The minutes passed by, and yet there was no sign of Natasha, so after all your wounds have been treated and dressed you decided to go look for the redhead.

It was a bad idea. As you located her, your heart sank. There she was, tending to Steve's wounds, her focus solely on him. Even though there was nothing romantic about the situation, the sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, longing, confusion. Betrayal. You wondered if there was something more between Natasha and Steve, a connection that surpassed friendship. You wondered why she would deem him deserving of having his wounds treated personally by her while you were sent to a nameless nurse.

Your mind raced, struggling with the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed you. Doubts crept in, and you questioned the very nature of your relationship with Natasha. Did she even love you still? Has she ever? Where was that woman who threw blankets over your barbed wire, leaving you just soft enough for all your other friends to approach? Why has she left you behind in her pursuit to build this new world instead of taking you along with her? The uncertainty gnawed at you, intensifying the ache in your shoulder. You made her your temple, your mural, your sky, but now you were left begging for footnotes in the story of her life.

As you stood there, watching her tend to his injuries, a deep sense of loneliness washed over you. The weight of the lack of acknowledgment you've been getting from her grew heavier, casting a shadow over the bond you once shared. The pain in your shoulder felt insignificant compared to the ache in your soul.

At that moment, you realized you couldn't take it anymore. You loved Natasha, you would probably love her till the end of your days, but you knew your love should be celebrated, and yet all she did was tolerate it.

~

You never thought about what she would do if you broke free, leaving the two of you in ruins. But that's what you did, you took the chains that bound you to Natasha and broke them.

You still longed for her, though, the neverending love you held for the woman felt like a dagger piercing your heart, a constant reminder of what you craved for, of what you once had. You wanted to remove it, to see it clatter to the ground as you bled out.

It was weird to gain the weight of her then lose it, but you needed to do it, you had to.

You were doing it for her as much as for yourself. Natasha had lost so, so much, but there was one person who could still come back, so you went to look for him, more in hopes of helping her than fulfilling your own desire of seeing him again.

Even if she didn't love you (which was the impression you got when you told her you'd be gone, looking for Clint, only to get a blank stare in response), you still loved her, you still wanted her to be as happy as she could, and you knew Clint was the person to make that happen, he was her best friend as much as he was yours.

You needed to help her heal somehow.

"She's been a mess since you left," Carol had said once during a video call, the vast expansion of the universe now looming right behind her, "don't ever tell her I said that, though." The grimace on her face told you she wasn't kidding.

"Steve's been trying to help more, even I am; I've been to earth since you left more times than I've been throughout my whole life. I'm afraid that if I stay gone too long, she won't be there when I come back… Since you left she barely takes care of herself. The place's a mess, she hasn't been eating much, and, again, don't ever tell her I said this, but I thought I'd never see her cry, and yet…"

You wondered if it had been all in your head, the way she seemed to avoid you, the way she seemed to take you for granted, the way she seemed to merely tolerate you.

In the midst of a turbulent storm of emotions, a newfound sense of urgency propelled your every step. You needed to find Clint, you needed to find him so you could go back to her, to see if she was really deteriorating that much, to ask her if it was all in your head, if you got it wrong somehow, if she actually loved you.

Time seemed to both crawl and fly, leaving you with moments of self-reflection in the solitude of your journey. Doubts and insecurities waged war within you, tearing at the fabric of your clarity. What if you discovered that Natasha's love had been genuine, but she had struggled to express it? What if she was simply too freshly traumatized to express it, and you had abandoned her at her worst moment?

You needed to go back to her, even if it was just to figure it out. But you wouldn't go back without Clint, you couldn't.

So you searched, and searched, and searched. And as you finally stood before Clint, his weathered face bearing the marks of his own battles, you found yourself engulfed in a deep ache. Two of the people you loved the most were immersed in pain, and you could do nothing to help.

"I can't believe you traveled so far, came all the way here for this," Clint spat, his voice filled with anger, his eyes filled with tears. "To ask me to come back so I can help her. Do you even worry about me? Did you ever stop to think that I lost my family? My wife's gone, Y/N! I lost my kids! Do you really think that I'm not dealing with my own shit right now?"

You shook your head, tears welled up in your eyes too, matching the anguish in your voice. "Fuck you, Clint! I'm not here just for her and you know that! You're my best friend, goddamnit, and you've been gone for years! I know you're hurting, but you gotta know that what you're doing is wrong, and it's not gonna bring Laura and the kids back." You shook your head, remembering the way the kids would all call you auntie Y/N/N. You sighed and shook your head in disappointment. "They would actually be ashamed of what you became."

You knew it was a low blow, but it was the truth, and he needed to hear it 

The moment he seemed to register those words, Clint's eyes became full of this sort of anger that you've never seen your friend display. But again, this wasn't Hawkeye, this was Ronin. 

Clint advanced upon you with rage in his eyes, his hand went to your throat, a dagger suddenly pressing against your ribs.

"Take that back." He said through gritted teeth, and you felt your eyes filling with tears once again.

Of course he wasn't above hurting you like this. He, too, didn't care about your own pain. 

You were tired, you were so fucking tired.

"Do it." You said, your voice devoid of emotions, the hollowness you now felt was all it conveyed. "It's not gonna make any difference if I'm gone, anyway."

You'd be just another death on his account, just a wisp of a memory in Natasha's mind.

Clint's brows furrowed, but his grip was unrelenting. You took your hands to his, the one holding the dagger, and pulled it up, so it wasn't resting above your ribs anymore, but right at your heart.

"Please," you said with a wavering voice, looking him deep in the eyes, trying to appeal no more to your friend, but to Ronin, "do it. Please."

The dagger clattered to the ground, Clint took a step away, looking at his hand as if it had personally offended him. He then looked at you, but you didn't meet his eyes, you were too absorbed looking at the dagger on the ground, feeling the brisk sense of freedom evading you as it finally stopped moving.

You then felt his arms around you, your head suddenly tucked into his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sounding desperate "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, and repeating, and repeating. 

You shook your head, your own desperation making you cling to him "Why didn't you do it? Why couldn't you just kill me?!"

His arms tightened around you as you both fell to your knees.

"I'm sorry," he just repeated, "I'm sorry I took this path, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I wasn't a good friend."

You wished that he being sorry was enough.

~

When you came back, there was a talk about fucking time travel. The Ant-guy was back, and so was Tony, Thor, and even Bruce. Everything seemed to be falling into place, so why did you still feel so…. broken?

But, somehow, as you and Clint stepped foot inside the Avengers compound, the familiar surroundings embraced you like a long-lost home. The tension that has seemed to permeate your very bones during the journey began to ease, replaced by a cautious hope for what awaited you.

You knew things wouldn’t instantly fix themselves up; Natasha wouldn’t just come to you and apologize for all she’s done (no, that wasn’t like her at all); your heart wouldn’t suddenly be mended, even if she did; your mind wouldn't let you forget the pain, the deep ache the past five years inflicted upon you.

And yet, there was hope.

There was the possibility of bringing Wanda back, of having Carol around more often, of doing something good for humanity. Of making Natasha happy again.

The moment the doors opened you saw her. She was talking to the Ant-guy and to Bruce, her brows furrowed as she nodded along.

And then she turned her head and caught sight of you, and of who was by your side. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw Clint standing there, and a glimmer of something flickered within them, something akin to hope, but also akin to sorrow. Without a second thought, she started walking in your direction, coming faster and faster until she was running. 

When Natasha reached Clint, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a long-awaited embrace. Tears pooled in her eyes, slowly streaming down her cheeks as she closed them. 

There was a little lightness in your heart as you saw them hug, some sort of knowing that she'd be ok even if you weren't around anymore. She wouldn't starve herself, she wouldn't push everyone away, she wouldn't shut down. She'd survive, and then she'd move on.

In that moment, as Natasha clung to Clint, her teary eyes slowly opened. There, through the blur of her emotions, she looked right at you. And the gratitude that radiated from her gaze was palpable, as if a thousand unspoken words were contained within that single look. 

Her hold on Clint loosened slightly as her eyes locked onto yours, lingering for a brief, intense moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time as the weight of her gaze met yours.  It felt as if the universe held its very breath, waiting for the next chapter to unfold. 

You wished you could say you could feel her love through that gaze, but you didn't know if you could use that word to describe what Natasha felt for you. Maybe she regretted what she did; maybe you became her anchor, even if unbeknownst to you, and she felt like she needed you to function; maybe she felt like she owed you something for bringing Clint back. You didn't know what it was, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the word love would be the wrong one to describe her feelings for you. Gratitude, thankfulness, maybe, but not love.

You smiled a sad smile, and nodded your head in acknowledgment to the gratitude in her eyes. 

Natasha furrowed her brows and pulled away from Clint as she saw you walking away from her, but before she could come after you, Clint caught her hand and walked towards the opposite direction. He wanted a conversation in private.

You just knew he was going to tear her a new one for what she did to you. During your journey back he had apologized more times than you could count, his words still engraved in your mind.

"I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust," he had vowed, his voice filled with determination. "I'll prove to you day after day that I care, that I value our friendship above all else. What happened the other day… it'll never happen again, I promise you that. I was too absorbed in my own pain, so much so that I hurt you, but I would never do that intentionally, Y/N. You're like a sister to me, I'd never willingly hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Maybe his love was real, but you didn't have it in yourself to just forgive and forget.

Maybe one day the gods would deem you worthy of love. True love, not the kind that hurts you.

~

"A soul for a soul" the Redskull said, turning the vast expense of cosmic beauty before you into something bleak, final. "You must sacrifice that which you love."

Your eyes wandered, drinking in the breathtaking scenery, the towering cliffs and cascading waterfalls; it seemed like a paradise carved from dreams. 

But the words hanging in the air casted a somber shadow over the planet's beauty, and as you stood near its vibrant precipice, the weight of what had to be done pressed upon the three of you. 

Destiny had brought you here, demanding a sacrifice.

It was a curse and a blessing all at once.

"If we don't get that stone, billions of people stay dead," Natasha stated, her voice tinged with determination, almost as if she was trying to keep herself strong.

Of course she'd want to be sacrificed, the selfless fool that she was.

Clint's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a mixture of conflict and resignation. "Then I guess we both know who it's got to be," he replied, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. They didn't spare a single glance your way, it was almost as if they had mutually decided that you were to live.

A subtle sadness washed over Natasha's features as she nodded in agreement. "I guess we do."

You closed your eyes. You had been wanting this for so long, you had craved the peace I'd bring, you had fantasized about it, about closing your eyes and never opening them again.

And yet… you found yourself wanting to cling to life with an unwavering grip.

As Clint and Natasha looked at each other, you found yourself wanting to greet Laura, Lila, Coop and Nate when they came back, you found yourself wanting to have a nice day out with Yelena. You found yourself wanting to embrace Wanda and never let her go.

It hurt to know you wouldn't be able to do any of that.

"I'm starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha." Clint said then, his voice wavering slightly.

For a moment, Natasha's gaze lingered on Clint, her eyes reflecting the depth of her conviction. "For the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing: get to right here," she confessed. "That's all it's been about. Bringing everybody back."

She looked at you then, her eyes brimming with tears "I was so focused on it that I drove away the one person I had promised myself never to hurt.",

You couldn't look her in the eye, you couldn't let her see your decision through your gaze.

Clint's shoulders seemed to sag, you could see the self-blame he felt right through his eyes, even if they were focused on Nat. "And that's why it gotta be me. You spent all this time trying to help what was left of the world. Me… you know what I've done. You know what I've become." He shook his head, his eyes turning to you as well "If you haven't gotten to me, I'd still be killing an untold number of people without a care for who it'd hurt."

"Well," you said, shrugging, trying to lighten the mood a little "I don't judge people on their worst mistakes." There was no point in holding grudges anymore.

"Neither do I." Natasha said, looking at him. Her eyes turned to you then, full of sadness, longing , and regret. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

You walked towards her and pulled her in by the hand, your forehead resting against hers.

"I love you, Nat. You've been forgiven since day one." You said.

Natasha's tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You saw from the corner of your eye Clint taking a step back, as if to go to the cliff. You extended your hand to him as well. He stopped in his tracks and took a couple steps in your direction, taking your hand in his.

He smiled a sad smile, his eyes red. "Tell my family I love them" he said, and tried to pull his hand away, but you gripped it with all the strength you had.

"Tell them yourself," Natasha said, pulling away from you as well.

You sighed, your eyes burning with unshed tears. You didn't want to die anymore. You wanted to live.

But you couldn't let them sacrifice themselves.

You ripped the bracelet Tony made from your wrist. It clattered on the ground. Natasha and Clint's eyes widened, almost as if they hadn't even thought of the possibility of you being the one to jump.

You felt an unbearable heat rising up from inside out, your lungs burned, your chest, your torso, your whole body. 

"Y/N what the hell are you doing?!?" Natasha yelled out, trying to get to the bracelet on the floor, but the burning winds that seemed to suddenly emanate from you wouldn't let her get closer.

"Take care of each other. And of Wanda and Carol. That 's all I ask." You said, your voice no longer solely yours.

You saw a rising shadow on the ground, signaling the presence of wings on your back. Blood red wings engulfed in flames. The Phoenix's wings.

Clint was rooted to the ground, your power vicious enough to paralyze those of weaker minds.

Natasha, though? She was fighting to get to you, the winds clearly burning her skin, yet she didn't give up. You turned away from her, not wanting to see her struggle.

It was a short walk to the edge of the cliff, you didn't want to look back. If you said goodbye it'd make it feel more real. So you just jumped.

And then you felt her hand on your wrist, the searing heat making her skin burn, and yet, she didn't let go.

"No, please. Not you." She cried, and even with tear stained cheeks she was the most beautiful woman you've ever seen "I can't lose you like this. The world can't lose you. You're the only one of us that really deserves to live life to its full potential."

And then, as if her touch made your power purr in her presence, Clint broke free, running to where you were dangling and taking your other wrist in his hands.

This was hurting them, both physically and mentally, you saw the skin on their hands blistering, you saw the redness in their arms, the tears in their eyes not just from the pain.

"Let me go," you said with a sad smile. They had their families, they had their jobs, their missions; their homes. 

You had nothing, all you did was take up too much space or time. They deserved to live, even if you left them in ruins.

"It's not gonna work!" Natasha shouted in desperation, her expression one of pure anguish "I don't love you! It's not gonna work!"

You smiled sadly at her. She really didn't love you, did she? She just tolerated you.

"It 's ok, Natty. It'll work. You may not love me, but Clint does " you said, smiling at her through your own tears. 

"Y/N, please, don't do this," Clint begged too, sobbing as he held onto you with all his strength.

"It's ok," you repeated, and if it was to calm them or yourself , you didn't know, "it's gonna be ok".

You used whatever little control you had over your powers to push them away. As your body tumbled to the ground the last thing you remembered was the way Natasha used to laugh at your jokes, enjoy your food, take you out on dates. The last thing you remembered was how she used to love your presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

~

When Natasha and Clint woke up not much later in a galaxy colored lake, she clutched the stone that had appeared in her hands, wishing with all her might that it turned out different, that the last words she said to you weren't "I don't love you."

She loved you. Always did. Always would.

~

Wanda sat in front of your gravestone, her hair disheveled, her eyes red shot, her cheeks tear stained. She hugged her knees as she sobbed, longing for the presence of who could no longer be by her side. She had lost her parents, then Pietro, Vision, and now you.

She sobbed more and more, the pitiful sound getting louder.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then, and she looked up to see red shot brown eyes.

Carol sat beside her, taking her hand and squeezing it a little. 

She understood what Wanda was going through, she was grieving you as well, and even though Wanda and Vision were planning on starting a life together, the witch suspected the Captain wouldn't have said no if you'd asked the same thing from her. So she, too, lost her love, even if she never got the courage to confess it.

It was a hot day, the sunlight shone perpendicular through the clearing where your grave has been put, creating a magical scenery all around the place.

And yes, the day was hot, but was it supposed to be this hot? 

Wanda shook her head, her brows starting to sweat.

And then the sunlight vanished, as if something gigantic was blocking its path. She and Carol looked up, but all they could see were the trees blocking the sky from view.

The animalistic cry they heard didn't come from the trees, though.

Neither did the blood red feather falling through the leaves, its tip engulfed in fire.

Wanda and Carol looked at each other, and for the first time in weeks, they smiled.

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo, @red1culous

[lady-of-imladris]

CHAPTER 9 - SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE

Synopsis: Preparations for the imminent battle are made, but when they arrive at Dol Guldur, complications arise.

Word count: 2.1k

Pairings: Thranduil/OC

Warnings: Violence

Additional tags: it's getting angsty over here!

Link to the chapter overview

Lmao sorry I forgot to post this yesterday but what a lucky coincidence because I can now say: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fenharel-enaste ! You live too far away for me to give you a physical gift so I dedicate this chapter to you my lovely friend <3

It turned into something bigger Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed Your finger on my hair pin triggers - The Great War (Taylor Swift)

The messengers from Imladris and Lothlorien returned fast and with news that was better than the King and Queen had dared to hope. Elrond, Celebrían, Celeborn and Galadriel were on their way. With their armies. Ana could have wept for joy that they would not need to face this threat alone. She had gone over their potential strategies again and again and again, consulting old maps of Amon Lanc, reports from scouting parties, reimmersing herself in battle strategies employed by their enemy. Thranduil was in awe. He had known for quite some time that his wife had been the mind behind some of their most successful assaults on Mordor during the Dagor Dagorlad, but seeing her in action was something entirely different.

The other four elven leaders arrived two days before the agreed-upon date of the attack for some last preparations. In Celebrían’s case, it entailed wrangling the twins, as well as Legolas, Elrond was examining the body of the elven soldier who had been turned into an orc and killed by Queen Anarríma. Celeborn, Galadriel, Ana and Thranduil busied themselves with the upcoming battle. The Lord of Lorien was beaming with pride. His daughter’s strategy was perfect. Their first evening together was celebrated with a family dinner full of laughter and joy. Legolas was beyond excited to have his cousins around and they spent the better part of the evening chasing each other around the halls.

The night before the battle looked different. Everyone was silent and withdrew to their private quarters immediately after dinner. Ana and Thranduil tucked Legolas into bed together that night, wanting to spend every last second with their son. “Nana, Ada?” the little elf asked hesitantly. “Yes, my little leaf?” The Queen sat down on the bed. “Why do you have to go?” Anarríma choked back her tears, and Thranduil sighed deeply. She felt his nails digging into her shoulders. He took over. “Ion-nin, that is a very complicated thing to explain, but we are doing this to protect our people. As King and Queen that is our duty. You will understand it one day.”

When Legolas had finally fallen asleep, Thranduil and Anarríma went to bed, lying next to each other, staring at the ceiling. Her hand found his. “Whatever happens tomorrow-” “Don’t.” Thranduil could not bear to hear it. They would outnumber the orcs. They would win. They had to. “Whatever happens tomorrow,” she tried again, “I love you.” “Please stop,” his voice was shaking. ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, I love you, my son.’ Those had been Oropher’s words the night before his death. The Elvenking was afraid. He could not bear to lose her. His Queen, his wife, the mother of his child.

Neither of them wanted to sleep, so they spent the night exchanging kisses and softly whispered words of love, chatting about entirely unimportant matters. It did not matter what they talked about, they just talked. Anarríma laid her head on her husband’s chest, letting Thranduil play with her hair and enjoying the vibrations of his chest caused by his voice as he told her of his childhood in Doriath, the first time he and Celeborn got drunk, of the day Celeborn first saw Galadriel and knew that he loved her, of Lúthien Tinúviel and her mortal lover, and many other things. In return, she told him about the few memories she had of Gondolin, of her happy childhood in Lorien, the time of the war against Sauron before they met and the battles they had never talked about before. The night passed too quickly.

They got up again before the sun had fully risen, eating a quick breakfast before getting ready for another war. Breakfast was quiet, no one knew what to say, so they just sat in uncomfortable silence. The Queen would have given anything to spend this morning with the soldiers instead. She found her mind going back to the mornings before important battles during the war against Sauron, sitting on the floor of a large tent together with her father and his soldiers, the tension so high it could have cut Mithril, until one of them, an elf who had fought in the War of Wrath made a joke. Anarríma could not recall the joke, but she would always remember the relief she felt when the tent filled with laughter. One look over at her father, who was sitting across from her told her that in his mind, he was there as well.

Fastening the straps of her bracers felt a bit like meeting an old friend and catching up, the Queen realized to her horror. She had not worn a full set of armour since the war. Thranduil was lounging comfortably on a chaise. She had promised to let him braid her hair for her and he was holding her to that promise. Ana smiled to herself as she sat down on the floor in front of him. Thranduil was horrible when it came to braiding hair. It always took him an insane amount of time and the braids often looked messy, even when he did it on her. With his own hair, the King was even more hopeless, hence he kept it loose. Anarríma winced slightly when his fingers tugged on a strand of hair a bit too harshly.

“Goheno nin,” Thranduil chuckled nervously, “and thank you. For putting up with me.” Ana reached up to put her hand on his thigh. “You are getting better at this. Give it another millennium or two.” The King grinned smugly. “Well, I think I did a pretty decent job this time.” Ana got up and walked to the mirror. Decent was an understatement. The two braids over her ears looked perfect and felt secure, as did the long fishtail braid he had created with the rest of her hair. “Thranduil!” Ana turned around and threw her arms around his neck. “How?” “I’ve been secretly practising on our son,” he admitted. Ana hid her laughter. “Thranduil, how could you? The poor child!” “Don’t worry,” he held up his hand in defence, “I bribed him with sweets and he was a very willing test subject.” Ana shook her head in disbelief. “We should finish getting dressed.”

“There’s one last thing missing,” Thranduil said, when Ana stood there, in her full armour, all her weapons secured. She looked at him expectantly as he set a box down on her vanity, taking off the lid to reveal the crown of dragon scales, gleaming in the candlelight like thousands of stars. “I killed a dragon for you, Ana. Let this serve as a reminder that whatever beast we encounter today, I will slay for you as well.” She bowed slightly, letting him put the crown on her head. Ana needn’t have bowed, Thranduil was much taller than her anyway, but at that moment, it felt right to bow to him. He might be her husband, but he was also her King.

Soldiers, servants and courtiers alike bowed and curtsied deeply as their King and Queen walked by, armed and ready for battle. Many had risen early to say their goodbyes, Celebrían among them. “I never understood how you can be comfortable in such a thing.” The Lady of Imladris gestured all over her sister’s ornate armour. Anarríma rolled her eyes. “It’s not designed for comfort, Brí, it’s supposed to protect me.” “By Eru, I hope it does,” Celebrían murmured and hugged her sister tightly.

“Shall we?” Galadriel and Celeborn emerged, armed to their teeth. Try as she might, the Lady of Imladris could not tell who of the four bore the most weapons, each of them carrying multiple blades openly. “Elrond is waiting outside already. Come back to me. All of you,” Celebrían instructed, hugging each of them for a moment longer than expected. “After all,” she continued, “my daughter will need her grandparents and aunt and uncle.” Ana could not believe it. Her sister was pregnant. Again. After a moment of shock, they congratulated her and Galadriel scolded her for dropping such big news on them when they were already running late, but Celebrían merely laughed and sent them off.

The armies advanced through the forest quietly and efficiently. It was almost muscle memory for all of them. Every single soldier who joined them had also fought in the Dagor Dagorlad. None had been keen to fight in another battle, but in the end, all of them had volunteered to keep their kingdoms safe. The journey was smooth and they effortlessly took out any orc scouting troops they came close to. Ana had predicted their general locations almost flawlessly. The armies got into position, surrounding Dol Guldur, remaining hidden in the trees. The King and Queen were no fools. They were well aware that the orcs knew of their coming. The only thing left to do was lure them out.

They looked every bit the warriors they were as they walked over the bridge. Thranduil offered Anarríma his arm as if he were escorting her to a ball. She gracefully accepted. They were halfway across the bridge when the enemy appeared before them. Three orcs, each looking more cruel than the other. “Do you have a death wish, elves?” one of them snarled. “We come to negotiate the terms of surrender,” Thranduil offered politely. The sound of laughter carried far into the forest. “Giving up your forest so easily, elfling?” Thranduil felt Ana’s grip on his arm tighten. His wife was angry. “Get out of this forest or by Eru, I swear we will destroy you.” Thranduil had never heard his wife speak like this. If he were the orc, he would run.

The orc grinned maliciously. “Do you really think we are not prepared? Do you really think we don’t know that you brought the Witch of Loríen and the Half-Elf with you? Maybe you should be the ones to run.” Thranduil shrugged. “I guess that concludes negotiations.” He raised his arm, signalling to his army. The three orcs fell to the ground, dead. The archers of Lasgalen were renowned for their skill. Their army advanced and the orcs started appearing out of nowhere. The King and Queen shared one last look before letting go of each other and drawing their swords. And then there was chaos.

Thranduil and Ana stayed together as long as possible but ended up being driven apart. Thranduil remained where the fighting was thickest, while Ana took her forces to more remote locations, watchtowers, dungeons, hidden passageways to try and drive the enemy towards them. She caught a glimpse of Thranduil when she looked out of a window, dead orcs littering the ground surrounding him. Galadriel and Celeborn had joined him. Galadriel met her daughter’s eyes for just a moment before refocusing her attention on the fighting.

Anarríma continued her raid of the ruins, rounding corner after corner at breakneck speed. She had reached the most remote part of Dol Guldur. The Queen was on her own now, she had left her soldiers behind to deal with the orcs. Something spurred her on, telling her to climb the tower. Her feet were moving of their own volition, carrying her up and up and up the winding staircase. The thought of returning to her soldiers crossed her mind, but was swiftly replaced by the compulsion to climb the stairs. As she walked by another window, she thought that she should go back outside and fight side by side with Thranduil, but when she was about to turn around and walk back down, she could not. Dread filled her entire body as she realized that there was only one way she could go. Up. She took a deep breath and walked up the last flight of stairs, sword clutched tightly and ready to strike as she entered the room at the top of the tower.

“Queen of Lasgalen,” a whisper arose around her. “At last, you have come to me.” She whipped around, trying to locate the source, but she was alone. Trap, it was a trap. She never should have come here. Ana sprinted towards the exit but was blocked by a wall of black smoke. “No escape. Not for you.” The voice was taunting her. “Show yourself, coward,” she demanded, willing her voice to be steady. “As you wish.” The black smoke took shape. It stood before there, towering over her, sword drawn, but Anarríma could feel that it did not need a blade. Whatever the being before her was, it could kill her with half a thought. It was merely toying with its prey.

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <3

Everything Taglist: @thesolarangel @fenharel-enaste @sanfranciscocablecar @enaelyork @nevermcre

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. I was sick for a while and I am still (supposed to be) working on my thesis 🙃

The good news is I have the next chapter mostly written because I felt that writing them in parallel might be a good idea for whatever reason. Thank you for putting up with me, ily <3

TGW Taglist: @queenmeriadoc @spnbandwagon1019 @somebirdortheother @some--morphine @hc-geralt-23 @legendary-maddie @elrondsevenstar @blumin8 @frodomyprecious @bookflowersnerd

You can join my taglist here <3

[forest-falcon]

WIP Wednesday

Adding to my Thunderbirds fic with OC Lieutenant Tamara Fielding & Jonesy (both firefighters who work with Chief McCready). The fic is written completely out of order (my brain refuses to be anything but chaotic!)

💙👨‍🚒👩‍🚒🚀☔

Tam set her coffee down on the countertop of the front desk and dragged an office chair towards her.

God she hated paperwork, especially during the winter months. Maybe she could shred the whole pile...create a fire in the foyer - anything to thaw out her frozen hands. Then again, arson, as a rule, was somewhat frowned upon within the firefighting community. Killjoys.

Tam cradled the quickly cooling coffee, attempting to leech the remaining heat from it. 

"You gonna drink that or buy it dinner?"

"Oh I'd take it to bed with me if I could, but I've somehow gotta make your numbers look good so Chief McCready doesn't fire your ass."

"Sounds like an easy day to me. I am, after all, Jonesy... the living legend."

Tam arched a brow as he flexed 

"Hmmm...those weren't the words I was thinking of."

"Well I'm not sure you can use ruggedly handsome in a report?"  

Tam took a sip of her coffee.

"I've known cats with smaller egos than yours."

Jonesy grinned. 

"So why's Chief got you hooled up here anyway? I miss my partner in crime. The probie ain't bad, but I want my work wife back."

Tam took an elongated slurp of her now-iced-latte, before the phone mercifully rang.

"Hold up, I've gotta take this."

Jonesy gave a mock salute, winked, then headed in the general direction of the lockers.

"London Fire Brigade"

"Guess who?"

"Scott?"

"Guilty as charged!"

"How...err...how are you? Sorry, I wasn't expecting it to be you. Is everything okay, I mean, is there a situation we can assist with?"

"Oh! No, it's just a friendly call. I've asked EOS and John to cover any incoming calls to the station  while we chat."

"That's...erm...thanks?"

"So! In answer to your earlier question - I'm well. Bored as hell, stuck doing paperwork, but you know what they say...no rest for the wicked!"

"I'm not sure anyone in your family really fits that description."

"Honestly? Even after Gordon switched the letters  around on your keyboard?"

"That was him?"

"Like I said, wicked."

There was a brief pause.

"How's everyone else? I don't think I managed to catch Virgil before I left."

"Ah yes. Tyre factory fire in Madrid. To be fair, he's not one for goodbyes. But yes - the rest of the family's well. Kayo, I think, is missing the female company already as she's being proper ornery today. I think Alan's gonna have to game standing up as she kicked his arse good n proper sparring this morning."

Tam chuckled despite herself. 

"Poor Alan." 

"Anyway, just thought I'd drop you a line to see how life back at the station was going?"

"Oh. Well...s'been okay. Chief McCready has me on desk duty today thanks to the whole surfboard incident. Told her my head was fine, but, yeah. Here I am checking fire alarms, fitting car seats and making coffee. Life in the fast lane..."

"Hey, don't knock it. I've spent the day crunching numbers."

"You love numbers."

"Yeah, not these numbers though. Hey! We could swap? You do my Tracy Industries calcs and I'll brew the coffees?"

"Sure, I mean, only if I get to work in your office? The London drizzle and concrete doesn't quite stand up to your sea view."

"Deal! I'll bring One around as soon as I can suit up!"

"Oh, and I should warn you...don't drink the coffee. It's the cheapest instant sh*t they could find...and it's decaf."

"Ah now, that may be a deal-breaker you see..."

"Damnit"

"Yeah. Can't be pulling all night rescues on weak wanna-be-coffee."

"You wouldn't cut it here then Commander...better stick to your paperwork."

"Touché! Anyway...I better head off and let you get back to it. It was nice hearing your voice. Maybe we can grab lunch whenever I'm next in London?"

"I'd like that."

"Great, I'll get John to locate the nearest McDonald's for us."

There was a click as Scott hung up.

Tam chuckled.

"Jackass."

[bridgertonbabe]

Dose Sophie and Benedict in the Royal AU go a state visit with the Charles when he is just a baby, like how Prince William and Kate took Prince George to Australian

Sophie had been nervous ahead of the state visit, not just because it would be her first time representing her country overseas but that it would also be her son's first royal engagement. She expressed her worries with her sister-in-law, Kate, who was quick to reassure her that the visit would be a roaring success.

"Soph, what's not to love? You're the newest beautiful royal bride and Charlie is the newest beautiful royal baby; that winning combination is guaranteed to amass glowing reviews." Kate stated matter-of-factly as she cuddled her eight month old nephew. "Seriously look through the archives. Both of Neddy and Milo's first engagements led to instant surges in popularity, as did Simon and Daphne's kids, and going back even further so did each of our in-laws' first appearances as babies. It's a timeless winning formula."

"I know." Sophie sighed as she soothed herself by stroking Newton's very soft ear. "I'm just dreading the inevitable headlines referring to Charlie as the scandal baby, no matter how well the visit goes. I know I have to make my peace with the fact that the tabloids won't let go of it but it just upsets me to know that Charlie will be stuck with a narrative he was cruelly labelled with at birth."

"Oh, fuck them." Kate swore (covering her nephew's ears as she did). "I know those scummy tabloids will perpetuate it for as long as they possibly can but at the end of the day it reflects far more badly on them than it does on Charlie. God, how pathetic do you have to be to stoop so low as to target an innocent baby and label him like that? Especially a baby as cute as you." she addressed Charlie, booping his nose and prompting a giggle out of him. "But look, if anything having Charlie front and centre on this trip will rid the whole scandal baby out of people's minds. They're going to be far too invested in how adorable he is and just how besotted you and Ben are with him that it'll undermine the tabloids intention of sensationalising when he was conceived."

Though still apprehensive, Sophie considered Kate's advice and acknowledged there was truth to what she was saying. While the scandal baby label had been rife when Charlie was a newborn, it had gradually ebbed with the release of family photos, his christening, as well as being photographed sleeping in her arms when they went to watch Benedict take part in his charity polo match. Though Sophie didn't want to parade her baby around just for the sake of winning over public opinion, if it meant shutting down those who had been vocal about Charlie being conceived outside of marriage then she reasoned that in the end it would be worth it.

Upon landing and disembarking from their flight, Charlie had excitedly bounced in his mother's hold, wriggling his legs and waving his arms as they descended the stairs from the plane in front of the press pack who were reporting on the visit. Recognising the possibility of Charlie being overexcited, Benedict took him from Sophie and steadied their son as they shook hands with the country's prime minister. Much to everyone's surprise Charlie had patted the prime minister's hand as his father was shaking it and when the man offered his hand out to him Charlie had grabbed a hold of him and had attempted to bring his mouth to suck on the prime minister's hand.

"Sorry, he's just very delighted to make your acquaintance." Benedict had quipped and made everyone laugh after quickly extracting the prime minister's hand from his son's grasp.

The next day the family of three visited a national park famous for it's waterfall, with Charlie dressed in an outfit to adorably match his father's. At the waterfall Charlie was awestruck, utterly captivated by the natural wonder and he kept pointing at the sight in a daze much to everyone's amusement.

The day after that Charlie attended a playgroup event and intermingled with other infants his age, being snapped crawling across the floor to grab toys to play with and rather sweetly handing a soft ball over to another baby who had looked to him expectantly as he played with it. Eventually he had grown tired of playtime and socialising and crawled back to his mother, groaning up at her to be picked up. Once Sophie had scooped him up and given him a peck on the cheek, Charlie showed his appreciation by returning the favour; grabbing a hold of his mother's face to plant an open-mouthed kiss against her cheek before resting his head against hers and dozing off.

Charlie's last engagements involved joining his parents for teatime with the country's royal family and there he met a young Princess Lucinda. The teenage royal was keen to hold the baby prince and she and Sophie chatted away discussing all things Charlie as Benedict conversed with Lucy's parents and older brother. As the young family were leaving Charlie waved to Lucy of his own accord and squeaked in response to everyone cooing over him for his first royal wave.

"See? What did I tell you?" Kate said to Sophie upon their arrival home, gesturing to the array of newspapers laid out with the repetitive headline of Bonnie Prince Charlie attached to photo after photo of the adorable prince himself. "Cute baby works like a charm every single time."

[writerfae]

Hi! I hope you don't mind that I'm sending another ask before you could answer the last one, but I think you'll really like this one (I hope).

So I just read your last Heads up seven up, and:

Okay, okay! Let me give you a small book report, because this is so cool!

When i write one of my favorite parts is connecting things with small but important details. It's like creating a chain. And i see this part as something very simular.

“Maybe it is the curse of our family,” she mused, “that in our attempt to escape our own misery, we cast misery upon those we care about.”

Henry did this.

There's also a detail I won't spoil for others but that also connects here. (If you know you know)

(Full transparency, I don't know that much about the Alder king yet because Henry and Aiden have my heart and time, but if i were to guess that will also connect here)

BUT!

“Maybe”, Nyx continued. “if we would just work together instead of trying to solve all our problems alone, we could finally put an end to all that misery.”

Aiden stayed with Milan for years. Aiden went to look for his brother. Aiden has been doing what Nyx is saying here his whole life and this connection is why he's a great protagonist.

Or this is my interpretation, anywaysXD But even if I'm completely wrong, these elements do parallel echother, which is objectively great!

Hi! I don’t ever mind getting an ask from you, quite contrary ^^

I also love leaving small hints in my writing and connecting details! It’s really fun! Sometimes I even leave little hints without even realizing it, cause I’m so much into this story xD

You connected the dots very well here! Henry did indeed just what Nyx said. So did you-know-who ;) And so did Nyx’s mother.

But it is also true that the Alderking did something quite similar. Cause in the very beginning, it all started with the wish to bring his family closer together again.

I’ve been drawing little parallels from Henry to the Alderking right from the start. Though wildly different characters with different motivations and stories, they do have stuff in common. And I’m not just meaning the fact that they almost look alike.

The thing about this story is that protagonists and antagonists are not as different as they seem.

(For example, if just one detail about Henry’s backstory would change, if he was raised by his father instead of his mother, he would be standing on the antagonist’s side instead.)

There’s a lot of motivations and wishes and pain that all these people have in common.

With what Nyx says in the excerpt, she does what we both like to do: she draws a parallel. Between her family and Aiden’s. Between their individual misery.

And she is calling out Aiden, too. And with him, herself. Because while what you said is right: Aiden did stay with his father and he did go to look for his brother, he still tried to do all of that alone.

Because that’s a thing in his family and it is one in that of Nyx, too. They each think that in order to solve their misery, they have to do something about it all alone.

The Alderking didn’t try to find a solution with his siblings, he found one for them instead, without even asking. Henry didn’t talk to Aiden about their situation, he took it in his own hands by leaving.

Morena didn’t ask her family what they really needed, she made an assumption and stuck to it. And Aiden didn’t ask for help when he needed it, he tried to handle everything alone and solve everyone’s problems because he couldn’t solve his own.

Nyx didn’t really ask for help either, she thought she alone could stop her mother. But at this point of the story, now that she saw all her mother did and now that she saved Aiden, she realized that she can’t do this all alone. Neither of them can.

So it’s not just a statement she makes when she says maybe if they work together they’ll make it right. It’s an offer. One to put differences aside and finally start working together.

Also, it’s her sympathizing not just with Aiden’s situation, but with that of Henry, too. It’s her encouragement for Aiden to forgive his brother. Just like she learned to forgive her sister.

[bricxbrac]

He wondered if Ros was tired tonight. Nothing seemed off about her. Nothing ever did. Her appearance was immaculate as always. Hair, clothes, and makeup flawless. As if she were about to step out onto a runway rather than preparing to head home after yet another long day.

But as she was searching her bag for something Emile couldn't quite remember, it seemed as if she hadn't noticed the sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway that stood between them. Ros, who always seemed so aware of everything in her office that he could swear she clairvoyant some days. And yet there was no teasing. No subtle, or not-so-subtle, hint to the plant. Or what it meant.

Maybe it was because of "tradition". Maybe it was a small act of revenge for all her teasing. Or maybe it was because he'd been thinking of how her lips would feel far more than he'd like to admit. But something compelled him to cross the threshold. To gentle take her arm as he stepped beneath the mistletoe and pull her toward him.

"Please forgive me," he said. A whispered prayer as he leaned down to press his lips against hers.

Ros had much on her mind: Preparing for Christmas and after-Christmas sales, thinking up new designs for the upcoming collection--better to start early than be scrambling at the last minute. Not to mention she had several employees out due to sickness, and the holidays...god, the holidays. Bonuses, vacation time. Her influx of reports and requests was through the roof...

Ros had never been big on Christmas or other holidays celebrations herself. Growing up, the holidays were more about image than they ever were about joy or family or fun. And after leaving home, she'd always kept busy working towards her aspirations. She'd celebrated a bit more with friends in her younger days, but in the end her only true family was her brother, and neither one of them ever felt the need to revisit those cold Christmas memories together. So while everyone spent time with family and dear ones, she'd often spent Christmas alone. Working or simply taking time for herself, though it was often far from festive.

She did not hate the holidays, not by any means. Ros simply never felt the season was meant for her. It had passed her by in childhood, and as an adult she was simply too busy--and perhaps, she was loathe to admit, too saddened by the bitter nostalgia it brought. So when the others decorated the office, she gave her compliments but thought little more of it. Their pleas for her to attend the office Christmas party likewise fell on deaf ears.

This wintery day in particular, however, was special in its own right. Emile was picking her up from the office rather than her driver, and she had admittedly been looking forward to it. To seeing him. She felt they were able to spend precious little time together most days anyway, but with this busy season upon them...it was quite the treat to see his handsome face. Before they left, however, her phone went off in her purse, and she asked Emile for a quick moment as she reached into her bag to dig the thing out.

Before Ros could find her vibrating cell, it went still and quiet, and she let out a short sigh. She would just call whoever it was back later, she thought, feeling a bit of the weight on her shoulders pressing down despite her unruffled outward appearance. But then the other took her by the arm, and Ros nearly missed what he said. An apology...? Her gaze turned on the man just in time to see Emile move in closer. And then his lips were on hers.

Hazel brown eyes widened in surprise before fluttering shut. What was this...? Emile was feeling bold, it seemed. He was always so proper...and Ros wondered what had gotten into him. But she was hardly complaining. Trying to ignore the way her heart trembled within her chest, Ros gladly returned the kiss, her hands moving to rest on the other's chest as she pressed closer. And her senses were suddenly alight.

The taste of his lips, the warmth of his body under her touch. His scent, the faint sound of Christmas music playing in the background. It was all suddenly so dizzying, and she shivered...before reluctantly drawing back after a moment, their breath mingling as she she looked at him with lidded gaze, her heart pounding...from an innocent kiss...

For once, she was lost for words.

[what-if-rpg]

↪ Have you heard about FRANNIE FABRAY? SHE is 41 and hails from LIMA, OHIO. Looks exactly like AJ COOK, and is TAKEN.

“I think almost everyone tries hard to be good and just finds out too late they should have tried softer.”

↪ IMPORTANT INFORMATION:

FULL NAME: Francine “Frannie” Grace Fabray DATE OF BIRTH: January 04 SEXUALITY & GENDER: Polyamorous Lesbian & CisFemale RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married and Open POSITIVE & NEGATIVE TRAITS: Hardworking, Benevolent & Adaptive. Distant, Argumentative & Sarcastic. OCCUPATION: Owner of Rose Noir and Sassy Nights CITY: New York, NYC

↪ HEADCANONS:

Francine Fabray was the accident. Had to Judy and Russell Fabray shortly after high school, forcing the pair to do “the right thing” and marry young. Despite this, Frannie was always her parents’ so-called “golden” child. She was the bar upon which her younger sister was measured. Smart, well-rounded, the kind of child that never put up too much fuss and did as she was told with ease. An athlete and a scholar, it seemed that whatever she tried, she did well. It was all surface level, however, but she never let it show. Frannie skipped a grade early in her schooling and nearly skipped a second grade going into high school, but chose not to. Either way, she was the head cheerleader, a soccer star, debate team captain, and excelled in every aspect of school and life that she tried, except for relationships. In fact, she seemed completely disinterested in boys and relationships. She was a devout Christian and claimed that she saw no reason in letting boys even begin to be a temptation.

After graduating high school, Frannie left home for college, eventually getting into Harvard’s law school. She did her best to keep up with her family, but her schooling was always her first priority. In fact, the longer she was at college, the less she heard from her family and the less she went home. She was working on her own well-being and destroying the parts of herself that her parents had built up.

While in law school, Frannie had a mental breakdown. She’d been struggling massively with everything and it led to her nearly ending up in a psychiatric hospital. She was diagnosed with ADHD and started therapy to help deal with it, as well as the anxiety, depression, and other issues that came up because of it. She also began to get help for an eating disorder that had been plaguing her since her early childhood. It did wonders for her and she managed to pull through her law degree with flying colors.

Frannie began working for the DA’s office as early as she could. She was, typically speaking, dedicated to her work, but had a few relationships going at various times. Her boss, a man a few years older than her, was very much convinced that because she was polyamorous he had any kind of chance with him. He was rather demanding and she eventually gave in, to try and keep things from escalating. He wasn’t the best guy and over the years, Frannie started documenting the various things he did and said to her, only staying with him because she feared how he might react if she actually broke it off with him, as he’d shown himself to have a rather violent temper and also held power over her at work. Then, having grown tired of Frannie refusing him sexually, he forced himself on her. In the aftermath, she reported him to the police, and between her documentation of his actions and the fact the brute force used landed Frannie in the hospital with a shattered shoulder and collar bone, he was sentenced. However, in the fallout of everything, Frannie found herself taking cases too personally and quit working for the DA’s office. Instead, Frannie worked odd jobs to make money and took up pole dancing as a hobby. In a lot of ways, it helped her refocus her energy and empowered her to do something new with her life.

Frannie eventually went to work as a pole dance instructor, while also putting herself through business school. She had a number of ideas that she wanted to delve into and knowing how to successfully run a business would definitely help in the long run.

At the age of 35, Frannie opened Luxe. Luxe was Frannie’s passion project, built from the ground up, it was a strip club, but better. She vowed to put her employees first, vowing that any misconduct occurring by patrons would not only cause the patron to be barred entry, but taken to court to be prosecuted under the full extent of the law. A promise that Frannie proved to be serious about within only a few short months of opening. Frannie chose not to discriminate in hiring, willing to work with anyone and everyone who applied. While she’d grown up in an affluent family, she wasn’t blind to the ways many struggled to get by and wanted to build a business that was something to be proud of, both as an employee and as an owner.

The year following the opening Luxe led to even more good things for Frannie. She married her long-time partner, Eabha, an Irish fiddler she met while the other was on a break and visiting family. They’d started their relationship with the knowledge that it probably wouldn’t go anywhere too romantically, with Eabha spending much of her year in Ireland and the surrounding areas. However, time proved them wrong and Frannie was more than happy to marry the older woman.

With Luxe handed off to a trusted employee and good friend, Frannie set her sights on New York City. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she found a club in need of new ownership and easily took it over. Overhauling how things are run and set up with very little issue and establishing the same rules from Luxe. Rose Noir is, to most, simply a dance club, with very private upper floors. However, to those in the know, Rose Noir offers a much more personal experience, hidden behind high fees and NDAs. It is a high-end kink club, where nightly shows are put on by employees and patrons alike. She also took ownership of Sassy Nights.

Frannie is an adrenaline junkie. She owns a motorcycle and does parkour. Her other hobbies include skateboarding and woodworking. The more she can be active, the better. Due to the damage to her shoulder, Frannie is prone to dislocating it but has always had a high pain tolerance, once breaking her knee while in high school and apparently “walking it off” as it went unknown until sometime in her twenties.

Over the years, Frannie turned from Christianity to paganism, finding peace in the belief that there wasn’t some all-knowing, omnipotent being seeing all but doing nothing, but instead a series of gods and goddesses, typically not interfering in the ways of man, but sometimes messing it up.

Following the completion of her home renovation project and Yule in Ireland, Frannie returned to Boston at the beginning of 2024. She spent much of her time with her girlfriend and also had surgery on her shoulder to properly set it in place and help prevent further injury and dislocations. The recovery from it was long and tedious, with her only returning to NYC in late May.

↪ IMPORTANT CONNECTIONS:

RUSSELL FABRAY (Father (Estranged)): Frannie’s relationship with her father was one based somewhat entirely on her being perfect. A fragile thing that she slowly learned wasn’t healthy for her and is, in part, why she became more and more distant from her family the longer she was away from home. It almost came as no surprise to Frannie that her father was a cheater and had an entirely separate family. JUDY FABRAY (Mother (Estranged)): Frannie’s relationship with her mother was always one based on her looks and her place in society. It was never something she held close and in time, much like her relationship with her father, began to fall apart. EABHA FABRAY (Wife): Eabha was the only one of her partners who stuck by her when her boss/ex assaulted her. They’d been together for a year before the event and married shortly after Frannie opened Luxe. Eabha is Frannie’s favorite person in the entire world and while she knows she’d never have to run a partner through her wife, she always tends to, if only because sometimes it means her wife also finds a relationship with the person. QUINN FABRAY (Younger Sister): Frannie and Quinn never really got on. Between the age difference and Frannie being the bar against Quinn was measured, no real relationship was capable of forming and by the time Frannie had completely distanced herself from their parents, any hope of a relationship between them disappeared. Over the last few years, she’s tried to form some kind of connection with her sister but she’d be the first to tell you that she tends to be too busy for her own good in this scenario. AVERY, DANIEL & JULIETTE FABRAY (Half Siblings): Frannie wouldn’t say she’s super close with Jules, but there is some kind of relationship there, even if more because of the younger woman’s instance than anything. Frannie has not actually met the other two in person but has no ill will towards them, if anything, she feels bad for them, also having Russell as a father.

[bumblefruit-ahhh]

When you spend an hour writing a conversation from the alternate universe of your own writing, then spend several more hours doodling the characters. In order to avoid writing an essay :3

Conversation dump down below!

After a beat of silence, Asher was still unsure if he would find a knife in his chest very soon. Lillian was certainly good at this game of poker they had been playing. Shadows shifted across her face as she turned to him. 

“Lord Asher, you recall Agent Celser.” 

“Golden Boy.”

A weary sigh leaked out of her. “It’s rumored he orchestrated the eight latest peninsular assasinations, but so far not a speck of dirt has been found on him.” Lillian tilted her glass towards a woman in a long red coat with a matching feathered hat in her hair. “Madam Selista? She spent eighteen years infiltrating the entirety of the Tahierian Islands. We have grips upon every governmental official that matters in those countries. If anyone moves without our say so, they’re found floating facedown under a bridge the next morning. Agent Everheart has left fire after fire as she and her men — if you can call them that — win region after region in the name of peace. And yet in the presence of some of the most powerful Gray Heart agents, you still have enough boldness to admit what they have cost you? These dogs have teeth, dear.”

“Surely I am not the only one who has lost things to this pseudo-organization. Let others sympathize with me if they wish.”

“Would you be bold enough to tell my uncle what you have just told me?”

“I suspect the reason we have been knee deep in flowers and cake testing, Miss Hart, is not because he simply enjoys my sparkling personality and charming company.” Lord Asher flashed her a glinting smile. “Your uncle has to keep all these dogs muzzled after all.”

“Lord Asher, you’re adapting to Gray Heart politics, reading him so well.”

“Well, if you can dig up dirt on everyone in this room, you can start to see connections between Gideon Hart’s right hands.”

“Oh? Even on Agent Celser?”

“Agent Celser, I’m afraid to say of Gray Heart’s  dreamboat, is currently embroiled in intense affairs with several of Gideon’s staff in an attempt to steal his throne. Silesta? She has started a smear campaign and two failed revolutions, which have both fueled her power in Tahierian governments.” Lord Asher plucked the glass from her flinders and took a sip. “And Miss Everheart… Well, besides being one of the surviving people personally responsible for the Fall, any person that you take an interest in would be first target for your uncle.”

“How astute.”

Hmm, her poker face was slipping. Perhaps she still wanted to stab him after all. 

“Oh, dear, I’m terribly sorry, Miss Hart. I seemed to have opened a box which violates our ‘this partnership will only work if neither of us talks about our feelings’ contract.” 

Lillian was harder to read than most people — most of the time. But as Lillian looked at Agent Everheart, with fierce protectiveness set upon her face, Lord Asher understood why Gideon had sent Agent Everheart to the frontlines. She was dangerous — not because of what she’s done — but because of what she could drive Lillian to do. 

Lillian composed herself with a wave of her hand. “Don’t apologize for something so true. Asha Everheart should have died a long time ago by his standards. He likes to bring that point up at certain times, just to make family dinners and agent reports awkward.”

“She seems just the person to introduce me to next, then. If she still has a little fight in her, that is.”He refilled the glass to the brim and offered it with a smirk. “To keep the broken bits a little less sharp.”

Lillian snatched it with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to need this for the rest of tonight.”

“Ah, so I’ve discovered the method of winning your affection. I can’t wait to have an alcoholic for a partner.”

“Oh, only I do this so you don’t feel lonely, dear.”

[charcherry-weekly]

Charcherry Weekly - Issue 172

I'M BACK IN BUSINESS, BABY! This is Mage of Light Nick Card, one year older, and one week past my debilitating cold. Let's roll!

A Successor to a Fallen Platform

Rather early this week, CaFAI launched a recreation of the Chittr social media platform, located at chittr.sbargv2.com/ . Please note that you must contact CaFAI in order to register an account there. Currently a handful of our group has successfully registered, but the userbase is still very small. I can be found on there under @lavendersiren there. Hopefully I can remember to actually post things, since I'm usually not much of an active blogger off the clock.

Flower Power

At the beginning of the week, right on the tail end of the situation in Antechamber Town, Bounty hunter Samus Kitten took a trip to Hepi, to presumably investigate the reports of energy drainage in the village of Kanjaweii. She was captured almost immediately, separated from her computing device and soon knocked unconscious. Fortunately, a distress call was reportedly sent over the heart container network, and the dungeon crashers were able to begin planning for a rescue mission.

On Thursday, which just so happened to also be my birthday, the dungeon crashers assembled at the lab to disembark for their latest mission. The party consisted of Samus's wife, Desertian President Witch of Time Katyleen Kitten, Mai of Hepi, Warlock of Time Coleman, Korosian President Heir of Time Thoren Emit, Thoren's sister Brae Emit, someone who appeared to be Rogue of Heart Charles (may or may not have been Lil B the dragon in disguise), and someone who appeared to be Shard Emit (was actually Shadow, Rise Emit's Incineroar), Page of Mind Samm, and Maid of Void Skitis. Together, they traveled to the village of Kanjaweii, via transportalizer pad. Upon arriving, it was clear that the village had been hit devastatingly hard. All plant life had wilted, and the streets were empty, and any villagers who remained were too lethargic to leave their homes. Curiously enough, Mai's family home had apparently been cleaned relatively recently, though it is not confirmed who performed the cleaning. Coleman lead the way towards the point of most drainage, not too far outside of the village's edge. The dungeon site apparently was a temple of some sort, but on the inside, the theming was entirely different from expectation. The dungeon appeared to be more like a playstructure than a dungeon, with large tunnels that required the party to literally crawl through. The party encountered a pair of attacking flowers with draining properties. Fortunately, the flowers were no match for such a large party. Proceeding onwards, the group arrived at a large chasm. Reportedly, a gigantic tentacle managed to grab Mai while he was trying to cross, and "Charles" immediately chased after. They were later found to have been transported to a holding cell, just a short distance from the dungeon core. Fortunately, the holding cell was only held shut by a master lock, which "charles" was able to defeat with a pair of spoons that were sent to the cell via the pit. After managing to lockpick with two spoons, the rest of the party was notified of the shortcut, and soon everyone made their way down to be transported to the now-open cell. The party was greeted by a voidco agent by the name of Tulip. Katie proceeded to hand over control to a Re-Fallen version of herself and immediately rushed towards Tulip to try and attack them for kidnapping her wife.

Meanwhile, Brae was planning to hand over "Shard" in return for Samus, with intention of Shadow taking action upon taking position. However, ReFallen!Katie's actions shortened the possible timeframe for this plan and Tulip absconded through a mysterious portal, leaving everyone else behind. Samus was retrieved safely and sent to the hospital on desertia to recover with her dear wife. Katie had notably been keeping up a nine day long filibuster a few days before joining the party on this mission, so she was thoroughly exhausted at the end of it. The rest of the party went their separate ways, back to their homes. Coleman managed to use his time magic to basically make the core disappear completely. I don't exactly understand how it works, but whatever he did to the core, its not there anymore, and I trust that he finished the job well.

As it stands, the village of Kanjaweii likely will need time and assistance to recover. I would suggest asking Pokemon Breeder HAZEL to bring over FLOWER the shaymin to assist in plant regrowth, but unfortunately both versions of HAZEL are no longer in this dimension, one of them being in dark version of her Johto adventure (though I think she made it to Kanto at this point?) and the other one being in Pinto. HOWEVER, that isn't to say that an odd flower or two couldn't change that.... Perhaps a less roundabout method can be found in the meantime.

This week’s known market stands in Desertia Town:

Katie’s potion stand (*CaFAI filling in for Katie when unavailable)

shinyjiggly pokesnacks stand (ran by Rufus)

thumbtack stand

Fresh food stand - Ice cream (1 sp) - 1 lb. of raw or fried beans (1 sp) - 1 lb. of myrrh (8 gp)

Animal Store - Snake, constrictor (5 gp) - Bat (5 gp) - Horse, heavy (200 gp) - Rat, dire (5 gp) - Skunk (10 gp)

I think that about covers it. I've been slowly trying to resume drawing, though I keep getting distracted. Also, I've begun some major planning for my next game project. As a reminder, the harvest feast is coming up on thursday, so remember to bring your sides and entrees to autumnal! Also, Samm, thank you for all the cool snacks and stuff that you got me and Aeons for our birthday. It really made our night. https://letssosl.boards.net/thread/407/charcherry-weekly-issue-172

[intrusive-thot]

I Spy

So I had this idea for a book of some sort about a girl who's life gets turned upside down by the disappearance of her mother. Her father and her move to New York City to live with his brother and his family, and she discovers that her family are spies. To find her mother, she must train and work hard on missions, and there's turns at every mission. So uh......here's the first chapter I've been working on. Hope you enjoy!

In the City That Never Sleeps

"The Bronxville Police Department urges anyone who has any information on the missing Ele-."

The TV turned off in an instant, which snapped Delilah out of the trance she had been in. A trance which had clouded her mind ever since her mother went missing, about a month ago. Her eyes flicked up to the door of the living room, and her gaze fell upon her father's sallow expression.

"Still watching those news reports, huh?" He asked, his voice laced with sympathy. Delilah knew he missed her, how could he not? She nodded her head, not too keen on speaking since the incident had happened. Kids from her school whispered about her in the hallways, even occasionally giving her a sympathetic smile, or speaking their sorrows to her. Some were even brave enough to ask if there had been any news on her mother's recovery. Delilah quickly found out that being silent was the best way to get them to leave her alone.

"What if I told you we could find your mother?" Her father's gruff voice spoke. Delilah felt her body straighten up, as if being pulled by invisible strings. Find her mother? How? She had to brace herself against the couch in order to not fall off of it as she leaned over in eager anticipation, waiting for her father to say his next words.

"We need to hurry if we're going to find her. Pack lightly, Uncle Brutus has made arrangements for us to stay at his penthouse."

Delilah groaned. It wasn't that she didn't like her Uncle Brutus, it was his children that were the problem. Connor and Cassidy, twins. They were the complete opposite of Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, though. They were extreme know-it-alls, and had to let everyone know they attended private prep school and got everything they ever wanted. And despite that, Delilah was rather confused. She had school in the morning, why were they going into the city? She had a huge algebra test that she needed to study for, she was always horrible at math.

"Uncle Brutus is offering to help us find her. Now, please. Hurry. We don't have much time." Her father spoke as if they were going to find her mother in their uncle's penthouse, and his tone was rather alarming. He was speaking rapidly, as if even his speech did not have time to dawdle. Delilah pushed herself off the couch, and walked down the hallway into her bedroom.

She flicked on the light switch, golden light illuminating around the room. She stepped forward, her feet hitting the fuzzy pink rug she kept next to her bed. She didn't know what to pack. Her father had said lightly, but what did that entail? Just clothes? Toiletries? She pouted, pulling a duffle bag out from under her bed. She zipped it open, and began to pack a few pairs of underwear into it. She heard a knock, and looked up once again at her father.

"I'll be needing your phone as well." He said. This took Delilah by surprise, and she dropped her pair of duck undies she was holding.

"Wh-what?!" She gaped, open-mouthed. Her father never asked to check her phone, he had told her he trusted her completely. And besides, how was she going to tell all her friends that she wasn't going to be at school the next day, nor ballet class.

"I need it, please, Lila. This is urgent." Her father said. And looking into his eyes, she could tell that he was rather alarmed. She slowly pulled her phone from her back pocket, and handed it to her father. He raised it above his head, slamming it down with all his might onto the floor. Delilah let out a screech as the phone cracked against the floor, and her father's black boot came down on top of it. She took a step back away from him, terrified. He had never been so-so violent around her, never had even yelled at her. This was completely out of character for him. When her father looked back up at her, he gave her a smile, his eyes watering.

"You cannot talk to anymore of your school friends, or friends from dance, or anyone you know outside of your family anymore. Understand?" His tone had changed. It was gruff. Delilah wanted to argue, but she just nodded. She didn't want to get into a fight with her father after he had just destroyed her phone like that. "I'll leave you to it. Hurry." And with that, he walked out of the room.

Delilah decided to pack more hurriedly, just pulling clothes out of her closet and shoving as many of them as she could into her duffle. She then packed a pair of sneakers and, although she didn't expect to be doing any of it, her pointe shoes. Then she threw her makeup, a stick of deodorant, her perfume, and her toothbrush and toothpaste into the duffle, wrestling with it to get it zipped closed. She then shouldered the bag, briskly stepping into the living room. Her father was already there, a small backpack slung over his shoulder. He stroked his beard, watching as she tottered under the weight of her bag.

"You ready?" He didn't give her time to respond before speaking. "Let's go." Delilah leaned down to grab her stuffed bunny off the couch before following her dad down the stairs, and out the front door of the house. They walked towards the car, put their bags in the trunk, and then sat in silence for the entire car ride.

It was over an hour car ride all the way to Brooklyn. They parked in the parking garage, and then got their bags out, walking into the lobby of the apartment building. Once they finally reached the penthouse apartment, her father didn't even have to knock. The door swung open, and a tall, lanky man stood in front of them. He looked almost identical to her father, same beard, same hairstyle, same twinkling blue eyes. But he had a scar running across his face. Despite his gruff appearance, he broke out into a smile as he saw his brother, pulling him in for a hug.

"Darwin!" He laughed, before letting go. He then turned to Delilah, grinning and pulling her in for a hug as well. Delilah tried not to cringe. She didn't want to be here, and certainly did not want to hug her uncle, whom she didn't know much about. She didn't even know what he worked as, but considering the fact that he had a large penthouse in New York City, it was most likely a great job.

"Did anyone see you? No, good." Uncle Brutus breathed a sigh of relief. Delilah furrowed her brows. Why would they need to be worried about someone seeing them? It's not like their faces weren't all over the news. The poor husband who's wife had gone missing, and their teenage daughter. Everyone around New York felt bad for them.

"Amelia will take your bags up to your rooms." He smiled as a small blonde woman scurried behind Brutus, taking the bags from them. "I hope you don't mind, Delilah, you'll be sharing a room with Cass. She wants to get this chance to bond with you." Delilah sincerely doubted that. Last year, at Christmastime, Cassidy had tried to give Delilah a lobotomy.

"Who is it, father?" She heard a voice call from behind Brutus. She looked over his shoulder, and the twins were there. Both of them were ghostly pale, with blue eyes and brunette hair, much like their father. She tried not to look them directly in the eyes. The terror twins could probably smell fear, after all.

"It's Delilah and Uncle Darwin. They're right on time for dinner." Brutus looked over his shoulder at his children, smiling, before turning back to Delilah and her father. "Come, come. Into the dining room, Amelia's prepared a lovely roasted duck for supper. You'll love it." And he began to walk into the penthouse, his kids trailing behind him.

Her father started to walk, but Delilah had had enough. How were they going to find her mother? Surely not with the help of Julius Caesar's assassin and Thing One and Thing Two. She gripped her father's arm, pulling him back.

"What about mom?" She questioned.

"Sit down at the dining table and I'll explain everything. It's time you figured out what our family really is."

So I hope you enjoyed that chapter. I'd love feedback if you have it, as well as constructive criticism. I'll try to write and update chapters as much as I can. Thank you!

[dalleyan]

Elfwine Chronicles (new LoTR stories, Blessings, ch 2 posted, 3-29-23)

Events in their lives cause the relationship between Theomund and Fele to change and develop.  (Drama, Angst, Romance, Family) (4 chapter story)

 Chapter 2

The smell of smoke was strong on the morning breeze, but Eothain reported that the fires were completely out and no longer a danger.  It was a somber mood among the group assembled for breakfast in the Golden Hall later that morning.  Once the meal was eaten, Theomund led the men back to the site to salvage anything they could.  Lothiriel had protested his going on Fele’s behalf, but he had insisted that he did not want them to suffer the trauma of looking upon their ruined home just yet.

Even so, the sight of the charred cottage was almost more than he himself could bear.  Why did this have to happen to those who were so undeserving?  Likely they would now end up back in the boarding house, with even fewer possessions than they had before. 

The last of the cottages that he and Freawine were renovating was almost ready, so at least one of the families could move in there.  He did not like the thought of the other two being without a home, and he knew Fele would consider herself lowest on the list of those who should receive aid, but he would not stand idly by and let either suffer further.  It would draw down his resources considerably, but he would focus his attention on clearing away the debris and rebuilding the cottages as quickly as possible.

Renward’s voice broke through his reverie.  “Theomund, do you need assistance?”

He smiled at his aide, appreciating the thoughtfulness that had brought him to the scene this morning. He might have expected the man to know he would be here, and to offer his help.  “Thank you, Renward.  Let us see if there is anything to be saved.”  Slowly they began a meticulous currying of the ruins. 

As most of the furnishings were of wood, virtually everything had been damaged.  Some of the furniture had only been partially burned, and he thought he could replace a leg or back of a chair fairly easily.  The table was too far gone and even though the wardrobe and chest were not destroyed, the clothing was so full of smoke he could not bring himself to want Fele’s family to wear a constant reminder of this tragedy.  He would see that they got fresh clothing to wear instead.

A moment later, Renward handed him something, and he smiled as he looked down to discover Eledher’s toy horse – the one the boy had shown him when they first met.  He had later learned that Frideswide’s husband had made it for him.  He was glad it had survived.  He dropped it in the pile of items they had collected and continued the search.  When at last they had found all they thought untainted, they gathered it up and took it to the shop.  He would clean and repair what he could before returning it to Fele.

Dispiritedly, he said his farewells to Renward, leaving him to deal with any customers that came in that day for Theomund or Fele, and made his way back up the hill.

Arriving in the Golden Hall, his heart was cheered by the sight that greeted him.  Dariel and Theodwyn were in the midst of the refugee families, sorting through piles of gathered clothing and seeing that everyone had at least one change of clothes.  Not surprisingly, Fele hung back from the group somewhat, reluctant to take part in the charity.

Stepping into the fray, Theomund reached for a dress he recognized as having belonged to his sister. Though Theodwyn was taller than Fele, they were shaped similarly, and he held it out to Fele.  “This will need hemming before it will fit you, but it will look wonderful with your hair,” he told her softly.

A tear trickled down her cheek as she reached for the dress with both reluctance and embarrassment. “Thank you.” 

Unable to stay his hand, he stroked her head comfortingly.  “Do not weep, Fele.  It will be all right.  I salvaged a few things, and I will help you get whatever else you need.  I will not allow...”  His voice trailed off.  He had been dangerously close to admitting his feelings, and he wasn’t at all sure that was what she needed to hear just now.

Once the clothing was finally allotted, Lothiriel spoke to the group.  “You are welcome to stay here for as long as it takes you to make other arrangements.  I do hope you will let me know if you require anything.  This is Durucwen, the head housekeeper.  She will assist you in any way necessary.  Do not hesitate to call on her as well.”

 continue reading on AO3:

              https://archiveofourown.org/works/46008532/chapters/116068618

[moonieshinesims]

Generation One - Chapter Five

River’s final year in school is coming to an end, but something horrible has happened. Will Ichiban have to fulfill his promise to protect River? Where has she even been taken, and what does her captor want from a girl like her?

**Notes: I changed up the font on the images to be bigger and easier to read. However, the first few images still have some slightly off-kilter text. I realized it needed fixing too late. And as a warning: this chapter contains violence and gore, so beware!

River awoke somewhere dark with throbbing headache. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, but was aware that she was sprawled out on the hard ground in a cold, damp place. She could hear water droplets echoing around her. It sounded like a cave, but she wasn’t familiar with many caves in the area.

It took a moment, upon waking up, to regain her eyesight in the dark and to remember what had gotten her in the position she was in, in the first place.

Joe.

She recognized his voice, barking orders at her. Although his voice was rattling and echoing and giving her a headache, she recognized it and she remembered him putting that cloth on her face, kidnapping her right in front of her own home!

She tried to stand up, but struggled. She felt drugged and out of it, but still in so much pain that whatever drugs she was on, they weren’t numbing any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” She pleaded with Joe, who ignored her.

He walked around the cave messing with something. Her eyesight hadn’t adjusted that well, so she couldn’t tell what he was doing.

“I said keep your mouth shut.” He growled.

“How long have I been here?” River asked.

“You’ve been out for about 12 hours now.” Joe let out a snicker, “I didn’t expect the drugs to work that well, but I guess you were tired after the night out.”

That’s right. River had been at the party before being kidnapped. Joe must have followed her home and made his move when he knew he wouldn’t get caught.

“What do you want with me?”

“Well I -” Joe started, then remembered he’d told her to shut up only a few seconds before, “Wait a minute, stop talking. Asking questions isn’t going to get you anywhere. It’ll all make sense at the end of the week, so if you want to survive until then, shut your damn mouth and be good.”

River pulled herself up and felt tears pouring out of her eyes before she could finish standing. She doubled over, sobbing, begging for Joe to let her leave.

“I gotta leave. I’ll be back later with food. For now, don’t try to escape, you won’t make it out of here alive if you do.” Joe coldly turned away from River, who had fallen back onto the ground, balling.

She continued to cry until he left the cave, and for many moments after. How was she going to escape this predicament? Did her family know she was gone yet?

It was Saturday around noon when both Mercy and Bee awoke to realize that River was nowhere to be seen.

Bee wanted to believe that her older daughter was okay, and chalked her absence up to some teen rebellion, so she dismissed it for the time being. But when the sun began to set and night finally fell, that’s when the worry really set in.

A couple days passed before word spread around school. Bee called the police to file a missing person’s report and they immediately got to work investigating. Bee thought they would take their time or be dismissive, but because things like that don’t usually happen in their small town to kids, it was a pretty big deal.

The majority of the town helped with the search. Jonathan, a neighbor and older brother of one of River’s classmates Will, helped put up missing person posters.

After another evening of unsuccessful searches in the fields and the quarry Bee started to succumb to her feelings of hopelessness.

Despite being just as depressed about her sister’s disappearance as everyone else was, Mercy had to be the voice of reason around the house.

Being that she was only 11 and the kinda girl who favored logic over emotion, she was having a hard time dealing with all the negative feelings around her.

River’s closest friends Havarti and Cassandra took it hard, of course. The rumor-mill around school was that Joe had something to do with it, however, he kept showing up to school like normal, so people dismissed it as a conspiracy.

But Ichiban had been listening, watching everyone he knew that had some form of a relationship with River – good or bad. He had his suspicions, but he knew he was going to have to rely on his dad for help, which was going to cost him. Asking his dad for this kind of favor wouldn’t come cheap, and if he got caught, he would never see River again even if his assumptions were right and she was found.

River’s past few days weren’t horrible, but it was the fear of what was to come that bothered her the most. Why had Joe kidnapped her only to keep her locked in a cave? Was he saving her for something more sinister? Was he going to sell her off to someone else? What was going to happen at the end of the week? He had mentioned something about that, and River couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Joe was dropping by to give her some food. River couldn’t tell what day or what time it was, but she knew her time was drawing near. As Joe went to hand her a to-go platter of food, she smacked it out of his hands and screamed.

“I’m sick of this shit! Tell me why I’m here! What do you want with me?!”

Joe just stood there, a smirk on his face.

River could feel the anger bubbling up inside even more.

“You’re a freak Joe Goldberg!” She barked.

“Does he have something to do with this?” River suddenly wondered, “I bet he does. I bet that’s the weird shit Opal was trying to warn me about. I bet he lures girls in for you to kidnap and do… and do…”

River was grasping at ideas, when suddenly…

Joe punched River hard in the face and sent her flying backwards. He reached down and pulled her back up by the collar and hit her again. He kept hitting her until her nose bled and her face felt swollen. Everything hurt and she could barely stand up straight.

Suddenly his phone beeped and his attention was pulled away from her.

He left the cave abruptly, not knowing that someone was tailing from afar. Keeping watch on his every move…

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,325

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.

A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next ->

Chapter 1

I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.

I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.

"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.

"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.

That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.

I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.

"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?

"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.

"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.

"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.

"And why the hell should that matter?"

"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."

"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."

"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.

"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"

"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."

"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."

"So, you admit that you hit me?"

"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.

"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"

"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.

"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."

"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."

"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."

"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?

"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.

We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.

"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."

Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.

"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.

"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?

"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.

"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.

"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.

"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."

"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.

"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.

Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.

"Um, chemistry."

"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.

Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.

"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.

"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.

"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"

"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."

"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."

"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."

"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."

"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."

After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.

As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.

But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.

At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.

"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.

"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.

"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.

"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."

"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.

The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.

"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.

"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."

Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.

"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.

My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.

I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"

He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.

"Trespassing again?"

"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.

"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."

"Maybe." He grinned.

Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."

"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."

"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.

"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.

"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."

"No worries, maybe another time."

"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.

"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" I screamed back.

"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."

I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.

After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."

"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.

"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.

"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.

"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."

"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.

The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.

"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.

"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.

"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.

"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.

"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.

Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?

Next ->

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 2 - Opportunities

There it was. The moment of truth.

The Square guard finally announced that 201 people completed the first game successfully, and silence, along with some uncomfortable shifting, took over the halved crowd. In that instant, however, a woman began shrieking and begging the guard for forgiveness, getting on her knees to beg for mercy, promising she will pay off her debts no matter what, asking to be sent back home, and more pity-talk because she just gave birth and didn't even have the time to register the baby's name.

This sounds very shady, Min Ji thought, it must be just really good acting, there's no way anyone believes it, right?  Or maybe they did, because more and more people began crawling on the ground, begging for mercy and forgiveness and to have their lives spared.

Why were they expecting Eden's Garden? Why didn't they think before registering? They had a lot of opportunities to drop out and just casually and peacefully go back home - Alive, that is - So why are they all so shocked and in despair?

But, of course, as expected, the guard pointed out they are not debt collectors, so their begging is misplaced. They are here to present everyone with an opportunity - The very opportunity the salesman sold them and they accepted so readily - But of course, people are people, and they began to accuse the people behind all this of being unjust killers who just murder them for sport.

Not wrong, per se, but still, not exactly right either.

They all began to beg to be sent back home, but the Square Guard spoke out Clause One of the consent form.

A player is not allowed to voluntarily quit the game.

Has he purposely missed out the 3rd clause, I wonder? Min Ji smirked to herself, sneaking a peek at the three men around her, seeing their pondering or despair look.

"You really think you can get away with all of this? The police will barge in any minute, looking for the people reported missing." one of the contestants yelled at them, making Min Ji snort in amusement. "Who in their right minds reports a person after less than a day, anyway? Provided, most of us, I presume, may not even have a family or people who would actually notice us missing. Why doesn't anyone use that brain they were born with, anyway? You signed the consent form, you agreed to all this, yet everything was shady from the get go. It's your fault for not putting two and two together, but now you wish to bet your lives on the work of that incompetent police force? They can't even catch a killer if they were right in front of them! They are useless! So go ahead, have fun deluding yourselves with the notion of being saved by those guys instead of thinking of the one way to escape out of here." her voice was so cold and mean, without even realizing, and yet, she truly was disgusted by all this obnoxious drama they were creating. "But it's the police! They will track our phones or something and they'll get to us! They will save us!" apparently, Min Ji's discourse created more uproar than silence, making her sigh and slap her face, feeling a forming headache. In that instance, to keep everyone from rioting, the square guard shot a warning fire from his gun, as the others readied their machine guns towards the participants, who immediately - Most of them, that is - Plummeted to the ground, covering their heads with their hands.  "Clause two. Any player who refuses to participate in the games will be eliminated."  "That's right. Guard, you readily pointed out the 1st and 2nd clause, but you carefully omitted the 3rd one, which is just as applicable as the others! The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Is that correct?" Sangwoo bravely walked forward as everyone  "...It is correct." the guard nodded reluctantly. "Then let us take a vote. If the majority wishes to quit, you will have to let us go." Sangwoo's voice was so steady and confident, it was really impressive. He could be a politician or a CEO easily. "As you wish, we will take a vote on whether or not to terminate the games." some rest and ease seemed to veil over everyone. "But before we begin, we will reveal the prize amount from the first game." ohh, how cheeky and sneaky, Mr. Square Guard. When these guys see the prize at stake, they will completely forget how much they so quickly remembered they treasured their lives.

Hitting the button on the remote, the lights went off and a sound that resembles the pachinko games from Japan echoed through the place, as a shit ton of heavy money stacks fell inside the transparent piggy bank  at a rapid pace, filling close to half of it, and the guard explained that, so far, the money for each player is estimated to be 100 million won.

That's not even close to the amount she's in debt, damn it! She makes around that much money in a year or less! This incentive only makes people want to kill others so the prize money will be divided to less of them, therefor, more money for each individual. He said that so far, there's 25,5 billion won up there. That means there will be more coming, the more people die.

Wonderful.

Take that, people who want to give up.

Especially knowing now that this much money, if they quit, will be sent to the families of the deceased. Ridiculous. And they go back empty handed. Even worse.

Funny enough, the very desperate woman who was the first to beg to go home, asked how much she'd make if she got through all the games.

456 players = 45,6 billion won.

Now THAT is the amount of money we're talking about!

Not giving them time to think things through, the guard showed two buttons - A green one and a red one - So they could vote.  Press the green one, you wish to continue the games, hit the red one, you wish to quit.

And so, they were made to go vote in order from the player 456, to player 1. Poor Min Ji, she was 139, it was gonna take a while, and she absolutely hated standing up, still, because her spine and legs were killing her. Blasted scoliosis!

The girl could only look up and watch the numbers unfold while trying to figure out what each player she knew voted. First, Gi Hun, the first one, wanted to go home. He chose pretty quickly, but many others took their sweet time. Much to her shock, however, she noticed a person whom she knew, unfortunately, from real life, but never wanted to see again. The coward chose to go home. Then, Sangwoo, unsurprisingly, chose to remain. Min Ji could only chuckle to herself, realising they were quite like-minded. And then, came back the hysterical curly bitch who chose to stay as well. How adorable. The nameless baby doesn't matter anymore, yes?

Cue more fighting that was broke apart quickly.

Ali chose to go home, and then, soon, it was Min Ji's time to vote. She didn't even wait for a second thought, not even bothering to properly face the voting stand, she simply slapped the green button and went to stand by Sangwoo's side, smirking up at him in acknowledgement, yet saying nothing.

Then, the abusive guy who beat up 067 chose to go home as well, which was shocking, yes, but 067 chose to remain, making the numbers hellishly even.

100 yes, 100 no.

Everything was in the hands of the old man number 1... Who chose to go home.

Damn it.

Half of the people started cheering, while the other half was groaning, pissed off, and of course the ones who wanted to continue tried to bargain, to let them stay there and participate, but... The Square guard merely said that they will be given another opportunity to enter the game soon, so they shouldn't worry.

And so, they were kidnapped again and thrown out of the van, bound, blindfolded and only in their underwear, with a bag of their belonging by their side.

How embarrassing.

"H-Hey, uhm... Whoever is here with me, could you please help me out here? It's pretty cold and uncomfortable." the girl awkwardly spoke, but thankfully, she was met with two familiar voices. "Min Ji?" the calming voice of Sangwoo, followed by the unmistakable one of Ali, set ease into her heart. "Oh, thank goodness it's you two, I was so worried." she exhaled in relief as she felt the bindings around her wrists being loosened, and she was able to quickly take off her blind fold and her ankle ropes, them went to release the other two. "How rude of them. Throwing us to the side of the road as if we are trash. They couldn't even let us off from where they picked us." she sighed, going to the bags to get dressed.  

She could only frown, seeing the cute light blue dress, patterned with pink flowers, was wrinkled, and the bow hair tie got crooked. Not to mention, it was weirdly colder this night than the previous one.

"Sir, where are we?" she heard Ali asked as they were getting dressed too. Looking around, shirt still unbuttoned, Sangwoo picked a reference point as the tall building with the Hanwha logo on it. "Yeouido." he muttered. "Where exactly is Yeouido?" the foreigner asked once again. "In the center of Seoul." the man spoke, making Min Ji frown a bit.  "That's... Pretty far." she muttered, crossing her arms to her chest. "Sir, do you have a phone? I want to make one call. Just one call." the foreigner asked him, so together, with Min Ji tagging along like a lost puppy, to a small market where Sangwoo was able to charge his phone a bit and bought a pack of cigarettes and three instant ramyeon for them. "Thank you, Sangwoo, you're too nice. You shouldn't have." the girl hung her head a bit, embarrassed about having someone buy something for her because he wanted to. He merely looked at her, than down and shook his head dismissively. As Ali took his phone and went to the back of the market to speak to someone, apologising profusely for being late and not calling. Min Ji could only look back at him with a sweet, yet somehow sad smile on her face. "Must be nice, huh? Having someone home, waiting for you and worrying about you." she muttered, more to herself than anything, but she heard the man besides her grunt in approval. "I suppose. Unless you're heavily in debt and you dump all your burdens on them. That's just cruel." he muttered, making the girl chuckle sarcastically. "Tell me about it." she nodded as she continued eating the noodles. "You're upset." he pointed out, stealing a side glance at her. "So are you." she retorted nonchalantly. "And for good reason. Such a waste of opportunity." she shook her head in mock-pity. 

Sangwoo seemed to want to say something else, but looking back, he looked at Ali and it seemed like he didn't want the man to hear their conversation, so the two finished their late-night meal and went outside so the man could smoke. "Stress chain-smoker?" she asked with a soft chuckle, as the man could only nod and look up at the sky. "I always thought the night was beautiful. The calm, the stars, the moon, all the lights. It's nice to admire the beauty of it once in a while, don't you think?" she smiled with melancholy, awaiting a response that never came. "Sir, thank you. Thank you so much." Ali came out of the market and handed back the phone to Sangwoo, bowing repeatedly at him. What a sweet man.  "Wait. Do you have money for the bus?" Sangwoo asked the foreigner. "Sorry?" Ali asked, looking like a confused puppy.  "You couldn't even pay for the ramyeon. Do you have money for a ride? Money?" he asked again, knowing that the language can be hard for non-natives. "I don't have any money. I walk." Ali spoke simply. "You're going to walk all the way to Ansan from here?" seeing Ali nod, Sangwoo's heart melted with pity and took out his wallet, giving Ali some for, instructing him to wait for the bus to go home. "I can't. I have no money, I can't pay you back." poor Ali stepped back a bit, not wanting to upset the man. "I won't ask you to. Just take it." he said, looking away to continue smoking his cigarette. "Thank you! Thank you so much, sir!" Ali continued bowing at him respectfully, only for Sangwoo to get uncomfortable very quickly. "I'm not your sir, so please stop calling me that." and thus, Ali continued to apologise and thank the man, only for him to light tap the girl by his side on the shoulder as a way to follow him along. "And you? Where do you live?" he asked, finishing his cigarette and lighting up another one. "Next to the National park, in Samyang-dong." she spoke, shivering a bit but trying to remain unbothered as she ran her hands up and down her arm, annoyed. "I'll walk you home." he said so nonchalantly that Min Ji didn't realise at first what he said. "Thanks... wait, what? No, no, no, goodness, no, that's way too much of a bother. It's already so late and you bought me a meal without letting me pay you back, I cannot let you do this." the girl stopped in her tracks from shock, protesting vehemently. "It's late. I can't let a woman walk home by herself. It may be Seoul, but it's not always the safest." he uttered, watching the awkward movements of the girl who shifted from one leg to another and scratched the back of her head, biting her lip and averting eye contact. "W-Well... I guess... Thank you. No one ever did anything nice for me, I'm just a bit surprised I guess." her voice was much softer and a bit vibrating from emotion. "Wouldn't have guessed that, coming from a beautiful and smart woman like yourself." as he finished his second cigarette, he put the pack in his pants' pocket and took his jacket off, putting it around her shoulders, shocking her even more. "You're just being nice. Truth is, I was so hopeless in this department that my parents kinda pushed an arranged marriage on me with the son of a business man they wanted to partner up with. Ridiculous, huh?" she chuckled sarcastically, pulling the jacket closer to her. "Then why were you at the games?" Sangwoo asked, frowning in confusion. "...My parents died in a car crash, the son ended up being involved with the mafia, he forged documents and divorced me, stealing all my money and getting me 1 billion won in debt to him. Absolutely wonderful, huh?" she grinned in annoyance. "That's... Very cruel. I am sorry." he muttered, unsure of what to say. "What is there to be sorry for? You did nothing wrong. In fact, you've showed more kindness today to me and Ali than I've seen in a long time. I should thank you." calming a bit, she smiled sweetly up at the man who could only look down, embarrassed. "You shouldn't have ended up there. You seem like a down to earth and responsible person. You shouldn't put your life in the line for money." he tried to give advice, but she merely let out an amused exhale. "When you're a prisoner in your own life, is there truly a life anymore? A billion won is a lot of money. It would take me about 10 years from now on to pay it with the money I make, without taking any breaks, doing any hobbies, buying any clothes... Or doing anything except for working all the time. That's not living, that's being a slave. This is not what I've been working and studying for since I was a child. I may not be physically strong or athletic, but I'm proud of my intelligence, so I'm sure I can figure something out and get through with the next games. Besides, look at you. I didn't see you pressing the red button either." she nudged him a bit, aiming to be playful. "My 6 billion won debt is my own fault." he sighed, after a small silence. "6 wha-... I see. So they aren't aware of everything. I understand, then. It's not something you can so easily pay off. But you're smart. I know you can survive the games and get enough money to pay off everything. And then, you can live again." she encouraged him with a sweet smile. "I should hope so." he nodded, speaking in a quiet voice as they approached her home. "What do you want to do once you win the games and pay off all your debts?" she asked, making the man go quiet for a while. "What about you?" he shot back, not yet sure how to answer. "Me? Well... I want to see the world and learn more about each country. I want to go hiking up the mountains and take pictures from up there. I want to have fun and be happy. And... Not alone. That's why I've been working, you know? I realised that so many people have the wrong mentality that we live to work. But I don't think that should be the case. We should work so we could live. Live a nice life and be happy." the girl shrugged her shoulders casually. "I want to see Europe." he said, all of a sudden. "Europe? That's amazing! I've spent my childhood in Italy and I'd have the occasional trip to other countries with my family.  It was really beautiful and so different than what we see in Asia. Although... There is something I really want to do. It's been a dream of mine for a while. Although it may sound a bit outlandish and childish." Min Ji's grin seemed to sparkle with glee as she spoke, so much that Sangwoo felt attracted to her brightness like a moth to the light. "What is it?"  he asked, curious. "I want to go to the Forbidden City in China and wear the Empress outfit while someone takes pictures of me in front of the palace. I know, I know, it's silly. I watched too many imperial dramas. But they have pretty outfits and I love trying out traditional outfits and learning about cultures. And that's how I learnt a lot of extremely useless trivia about many countries that nobody cares about." she laughed lightly, making the ghost of a smile appear on the man's face. "I don't think that's a bad thing. It's good that you found something to be fascinated about. It's a reason to look forward to tomorrow." he pointed out, feeling a bit better, talking to her. "Did you find your reason to smile?" she asked him, which made him stop in his tracks, looking up at the sky to think a bit, then shook his head. "Not really." he answered, disappointment in his voice. "Then, maybe when we go to Italy, you'll find out you have a passion for art! Or... That you like hiking in Germany! Or that you like photography in Paris! We can go to Disneyland, it's really fun, you know? We can afford the VIP pass so we don't have to wait in line for an hour for each ride." she kept going on and on, making the man look at her and give her an amused half-smile. "We?" he accentuated the word she used so often, making her realise what she's been saying and flustering her for the mistake. "I-.... Uh... W-Well..." she couldn't help but hide her face with her hand, knowing there was no way getting out of what she said. "You'll get lost, alone, in another continent where nobody speaks any Asian language." "Very considerate of you. Thank you." the man, for the first time in a long time, found himself smiling and chuckling genuinely, only to realise that they found themselves in front of her home's door already. "Thank you for coming all the way here to walk me home. I really appreciate it. It's very late though. If you don't have work tomorrow, or any important meeting, you're free to stay the night. I have a spare room." she informed him as soon as she opened the door of the very tall block of flats. "I couldn't possibly intrude." he tried to deny, but the girl insisted.  "You've been very nice to me today. Let me return the favour. It's no big deal anyway. I have some stuff in the fridge to make pizza. I don't think living off instant ramyeon can be too nice." she shrugged, waiting for an answer, seeing that he seemed tempted.  "You've already saved my life today, now you're doing this. I have no way of thanking you." he spoke, which seemed to make the girl roll her eyes a bit. "Listen, I don't really have friends, even though I really want to, and I'll be honest with you, I haven't enjoyed a conversation with someone in a long time. If you want to thank me for saving your life, then just stay the night and let me pretend I'm having a friend sleep over with someone, okay? I'm going to make pizza, finish my bottle of red wine, watch TV series all night. You don't have to do either, you can just go take a shower and sleep the whole night, I don't mind. That's all I'm asking. For your presence." hearing her lonely words and seeing her beautiful, pleading eyes, Sangwoo couldn't help but find himself nodding and stepping in, following her to the elevator and being guided to the last floor, into the penthouse. "Make yourself at home. Or, rather... Welcome home." "It's very beautifully furnished." he admired the place as he took his shoes of, letting the girl guide him around the place.  "Thank you! It was worth 2 years of salary, but it was so worth it. I'm really happy with how it turned out. I chose everything, from the colours, to all the custom made furnishing, to the lights. But the plants are all artificial. I don't know why but they all died in a week. At least I'm a better doctor then I am a gardener." she spoke casually, smiling leisurely and feeling comfortable in the safety of her home. "There's the bathroom. You can go take a shower and I can wash your clothes, if you want. I have some spare clothes for you to sleep in, if you don't mind that they're pretty old. And that I sleep in them too." she chuckled awkwardly, playing with a strand of her hair. "No, that's alright, thank you. They're fine." he smiled, both awkward and grateful at the way she was trying to make him feel comfortable. "Great. You go ahead and get ready, I'll go prepare the food." Sangwoo watched as the girl's smile never left her face and she seemed much calmer and at ease now - Somehow, more genuine than the cold and strongly confident persona she had during the games - And who could blame her, really? Nobody is always the same, especially surrounded by so many people, and such circumstances.

As he went to the bathroom to take a shower, he couldn't help but admire every inch of the house and the decorations she put everywhere. It was a part of her, her heart, her personality, her appreciations, her style... Everything. You can learn a lot about a person by the way their home looks, and this one looked very warm and welcoming.

The hot water ran down his back as his mind ran a thousand miles, everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Maybe it's not so bad, living with someone, that is. But he's old, and she's so young and aspiring, she's a doctor, she has limitless boundaries and visions. And, after all, they are going back to those killing games, there's no way of knowing whether or not either of them is going to survive, let alone leave that place with all the money.

Maybe he sounds unrealistic, even in his own head, he thought, but surely, having her as an ally or friend in the games couldn't hurt, could it? She saved him once, and the only way to truly repay her is if he would somehow end up saving her life as well.

Without realising, Sangwoo's goals shifted a tiny bit in another direction, and he now didn't see only himself as the winner and the cash prize - Instead, he saw someone else smiling at him brightly and just as successfully. Just one day is not enough to come up to a rational conclusion, especially when it comes to the matters of the heart, but surely, by the end of the games, should both of them remain alive, he will have an answer, or at least, an inkling that will tell him whether or not he should make the move and consider a relationship with her. After all...

It is as she said, he, also, hasn't felt at ease conversing with people in a long time.

As he was wiping the water with a towel, he looked at the neatly folded sleeping wear from the top of the toilet. They were pretty old, but well kept and the material was soft and comfortable. Definitely cotton. He got out of the bathroom, and from the kitchen, he heard some music, along with some humming, which was revealed to be Min Ji, casually sitting cross-legged on the counter, playing on her phone and singing softly a melancholic yet gorgeous Chinese melody that, without a doubt, was from one of the dramas she watched. 

She was no longer wearing the pretty dress, nor was her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of azaleas. Instead, she wore clothes similar to his, yet at least on him, they were fitting, while she was swimming in them, and her hair was put up in a lazy, messy bun. From the oven, the smell of roasting dough was making his mouth water.

"Oh, hey, you're done so soon? I didn't realise when you came here. Anyway, the pizza is going to be ready in about 15 minutes. You don't have to stay here and guard it though, I'm sure it's not going to spontaneously take off and run a marathon. You can stay here on the couch and watch Netflix, or if you want to rest a bit, this is the spare room. Much more comfy and it has Netflix there too." she showed him the other room that looked just as comfortable as every other room in the penthouse. Gosh, he hasn't slept in such a comfortable bed in so long, he thought as he laid down, looking up at the ceiling and the crystal chandelier hanging. She sure must have earned a lot of money as a practicing doctor. 

He was so deep in his own thoughts that he didn't realise he snoozed off a bit until he heard his name being softly whispered by a sweet voice, being lightly shaken awake. "Sangwoo, the food is ready." she said as she hit the lighting setting to dim, so he wouldn't hurt his eyes, and hitting the netflix button on the TV remote, she put the cut pizza plate on the bed and held another to him so he could eat comfortably and sip on sweet red wine or some cold water. Sangwoo was still a bit out of it, having just woken up, but nonetheless, he thanked her for the food and watched her fiddle dexterously with the remote buttons, searching for some movie. "Do you have any preferences?" she asked as she was eating. "No, not really, anything is fine." he said dismissively as he watched her pick 'Slasher', what looked like an American horror series. 

Throughout her list, he noticed a wide variety of movies, ranging from documentaries, to cartoons, anime and various kinds of horror flicks. Interesting, he thought to himself as he tried to pay attention to the movie.

"Before I forget, do you want coffee tomorrow? Or do you have a specific hour you have to leave? I usually sleep quite a lot, so if you want, I can show you how you can use the coffee machine and whatever other things you want, like the caramel syrup, the honey or brown sugar. You don't even have to say goodbye or anything, you can just leave, but at the same time, don't hesitate to wake me up if you need anything, okay?" she turned to look at him with a tired smile. He realised, it was already pretty late into the night, or rather, pretty early in the morning, and they both really needed some rest. "Alright, thank you for everything. And the food was really good. Good night, Min Ji." he spoke, a bit stiff, as he watched the girl's smile widen a bit. "I'm glad you liked it. Sweet dreams, Sangwoo." and so, she left the room, taking all the leftover stuff and dumping them in the fridge, putting the dishes in the dishwasher and went to sleep away her tiredness.

In the morning - Or rather, afternoon - As they both really needed some serious sleep, he found himself in the kitchen, staring at the coffee machine, realising he didn't ask her how it was being used. Thankfully, though, a yawn was heard as the girl dragged herself to the kitchen and robotically made herself a caramel double espresso and threw the lavender straw in. With a groggy voice, she asked him what kind of coffee he liked, and easily made it for him with a tap of a button, carefully putting the huge cup on the table for him, along with caramel syrup, honey and sugar for him to take, if he wanted.

She didn't say anything, rather, she just sipped the coffee at a lazy pace and continued reading her book, once again, The Idiot from Dostoevsky. It was in English. Sangwoo knew English, but he wasn't sure it was on par with hers, if she's able to read such complex Russian literature. The sound of the coffee shop lo fi calmly echoing through the room thanks to her phone's youtube made this experience all the more enjoyable for the man as he had to admit, he felt this domestic bliss to be absolutely wonderful and he wanted more days like this.

With her.

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