#Sorry for tha absence and sorry this is the first thing I write in a while

[ghostofthemost141]

Vanilla

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader, Third POV, no use of (Y/N)

Word Count: 3,142

Themes: Some Angst and Fluff, Some Suggestive Talk so !18+!, brief talks of Domestic Violence from an ex

About: You mourn the absence of your boyfriend while he is on a long mission.

Notes: Preface warning, I am still getting used to writing both British and Scottish into my fics so it ain't gonna be the best lmao but I am trying! Nickname for you here is Bonnie cause why not. Also let me know if you prefer First or Third POV for the fics. Hope you enjoy my first Soap x reader!

The warm vanilla scent engulfed into the living room almost instantly after you lit the candle. It was your favorite scent ever and it reminded you so much of your loved one. When you and Johnny first started going out, Johnny had some kind of strong vanilla scented cologne on. So anytime you smelled vanilla, it instantly made you think of him. You would always light a candle every time you missed Johnny. And while you shedded a few tears mourning his missing absence in y’alls home, the vanilla scent would enter your nostrils and comfort you. You missed him dearly tonight. You last heard from him early this morning. It was nearing five this morning when your phone rang. Luckily you were a light sleeper and instantly woke up to it, rushing to answer it. 

“Johnny?” You tiredly spoke into the phone. 

“In da flesh. Well almost.” Johnny jokes. 

You smiled to yourself, hearing his strong accent on the other side of the phone. 

“Sorry it’s early, Bonnie.” Johnny apologized, feeling bad for waking you up. 

“Don’t you ever apologize for waking me up, Johnny. You know I will always take the opportunity to talk to ya.” You reassured him, “when are you coming home?” 

“‘Opefully soon, my love. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Johnny. Just missin’ ya is all.” 

“Oh really?” 

You could hear the smirk from his side. 

“Why? You don’t miss me?” 

“Aye. You ‘ave no idea, Bonnie. Some days are harder than others, if you catch me drift.” Johnny whispered that last part. 

You knew exactly what he meant by that. 

“Aw you poor thing.” You say with a chuckle and Johnny did the same. 

“Oi, you were the one who sent me tha’ pic of ya.” 

He got you there. While he was on long missions, you liked to go out, buy a new underwear set, and send him a picture of you in it. In your defense, it was something for Johnny to look forward to when he got home. 

“Well did you like it or not?” 

“Steamin; Jesus of course I did. You’re so gorgeous Bonnie, but you can’t be teasin’ me like dat.” Johnny told you, making you blush a little. 

Even though Johnny and you have been together for a couple of years now, his little charms and flirts still get you red in the face to this day. There was just something about him. It’s how you met. 

“I often think about how fate brought us together.” 

“Oh yeah? ‘Ow so?” Johnny asked. 

~

As you retold it to Johnny, you couldn’t help but feel grateful with what happened. You were at the bar one night with your ex boyfriend. You didn’t care for going out to bars but you did it for your ex. That night, he was being more of an asshole than usual. Talking you down, ignoring you, flirting with other girls, and just being overall shitty. He left you by yourself to go talk to another girl that across the bar. As soon as he had left, you broke down in tears. You wanted to leave him, but he was a big manipulator and even scared you a little bit. You hung your head low to avoid unwanted attention and to avoid being embarrassed, but of course that ended being the opposite. 

“Aye, you okay there, lass?” 

A thick Scottish accent spoke to you. This was the first time anyone has ever approached you when your ex would wander off to do whatever with some chick he met. You wiped your tears and turned to where you heard the Scottish accent. Your heart started racing once you made eye contact with his bright blue eyes. They were so bright that they could light up a pitch dark room. The second thing you noticed about him was the mohawk that was on the top of his head. You hadn’t seen one of those haircuts in years. 

“I thought they left those in the 80s.” You softly joked, making the Scottish man laugh. 

“Oi, don’t dish the ‘hawk till you try it.” The man laughed, running his fingers through it. 

You laugh in response, clearly getting the vibe that he is a jokester. 

“What’s a pretty lad like youself doing crying at a bar at this hour?” The man asked. 

Right away you could tell he was asking out of genuineness and not trying to hit on you, despite having a hard time understanding what he was saying. 

“My boyfriend being an asshole.” 

“That bloat that walked away to flirt with another woman?” 

You nodded, confirming that it was indeed him. 

“Bloody wanker he is.” 

You couldn’t help but snort at the insult the Scottish man spoke. 

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to laugh.” You apologize to the man, hoping he didn’t find any kind of offense. 

“Whatever makes you show that pretty smile of yours, lass.” 

~

You could hear Johnny chuckling over the phone at your bad impression of him. Normally he would be mad at anyone that mocked his accent, but he didn’t mind that you did it. The rest of the phone call was just you both messing with each other until Johnny had to go. 

“I’ll be home soon, ya?” 

“Okay Johnny. I love you.” 

“I love you too. My Bonnie.” 

You hated hearing that droning beeping noise that came after he hung up. You just wanted him by your side again. You and Johnny have been together for three years now and while you don’t want to rush him, you really, really wanted to tie the knot with him, especially in his line of work. Even though he reassures me that he is fine and while he does sometimes come home with injuries he didn’t leave home with, it just scares you to death that instead of Johnny coming home, it will be his comrade Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, telling you that Johnny was KIA. You know that he does a great job in what he does and he is one of the greatest fighters out there, but you just wanted him. Little did you know that right now in this very moment that Johnny was in fact in town. You just didn’t know it yet. 

“Yeah, that one right ‘here.” Johnny spoke to the counter person. 

The person behind the counter grabbed the piece Johnny pointed out and made sure it was the right one. Johnny had never bluntly asked you what you liked, just observed you enough to know what you liked and didn’t like. He’d rather do that than ruin the surprise he had waiting for you. He still had a few more stops to make before he could make it home to you. 

Back at home, you were doing the dishes when you heard your phone peep. You quickly dried your hands to see what it was. It was a text from Johnny. You opened it up to see it was a landscape photo of the mountains. You figured he took it to show you, for you had a fond love for beautiful landscapes. 

“You on a stakeout? Beautiful picture.” You text him back, not expecting a response back. 

“Not as beautiful as you, Bonnie. But yes I am. I had to snap that for you real quick.” Johnny quickly texted back, lying through the phone screen. 

His plan was going according to plan, he just had to keep up with the lie a little while longer. You smiled at his text, totally believing what he was saying. He was completely blindslinding you, but in a good way. As the potent vanilla scent grew stronger, so did your emotions. You really missed Johnny, more than ever. You know he loves his job, but you secretly wished he didn’t have it. If he didn’t have that military job, y’all would be able to spend all the time in world with each other, do renovations around the place, and even start a family together. You both have talked about children and Johnny is always over the moon when that topic gets brought up. It just would be hard with the job he has right now. Of course, you care about his feelings so you never would say that outloud. It was selfish to think that way. He does lots of good for the world and makes sure you’re safe at home. But some days, you would prefer if the world was burning down in flames but you two be together. Just the two of you against the world. 

“I miss you, Johnny. I miss you so much that I could cry. I miss your warmth in our bed and everytime I smell vanilla, it makes me think of you. I just wish you were home right now.” 

You knew he wouldn’t be able to respond right away but you just had to get your feelings out there. You could feel the tears start rushing down your face as the message was delivered. You sat your phone down, held yourself and sat on the floor. You’ve never felt this sad in a long, long time. The last time was when your ex boyfriend hit you to the point of falling on the ground. Johnny immediately came to your rescue upon hearing your screams over the phone. Johnny could’ve killed your ex that day, but he didn’t. He only didn’t because he wanted to be with you and he can’t do that if he is in jail, even though ‘the bloody wanker deserves it.’ Meanwhile, while at the florist shop, Johnny saw your text and felt his heart break a little reading it. He understood your pain and how you felt. Little did he know what he had planned for you at this very moment. 

“I know, love and I am sorry. But I promise when I come back home, things will be different. I can’t talk right now, but I promise it will be.” 

Johnny hit send and placed his phone in his pocket, to quickly hurry home to you. You read the text the second your phone dinged. You wondered what Johnny meant by that. Your head was racing of what he could mean, but none of it made sense. Not wanting to bother him anymore, you just read it and shut your phone off. You did your calming breaths that Johnny would make you do when you were overwhelmed or upset. It works like a charm every single time. 

“You’re okay, Bonnie, you’re okay.” You spoke to yourself with the nickname Johnny gifted you. 

You might as well change your name legally to Bonnie for he seems to call you that one more than your real name but you didn’t mind it. Not one bit. You decided instead of sitting down and moping around, you would get up and knit and craft some gloves for Johnny to wear. During missions, you have taken up on the art of crafting and then indulged into stuff Johnny could wear that would be appropriate for work, but also have a piece of you and home with him at all times. Last time, you were able to make some socks that had Scotland’s flag colors on it. He loved them so much and he was wearing them when he left home a month ago. You just hoped they brought him some kind comfort like they did to you when he wore them. You got all of your crafts together, got onto the living room couch with some wine, and turned on the tv to you and Johnny’s favorite show: Masterchef. You had no idea the Scottish man had a niche for cooking competitions, let alone cooking in general but he did and he loved cooking with you especially. 

“Now why in the fuck would you combine goat cheese with apple pie filling? Sounds disgusting.” Johnny commented at one of the contestants. 

You giggled in response, half paying attention to the TV due to you crafting something. 

“You should enter in the show if you think you're better than everyone else.” You remarked. 

“Bloody hell, no I could never. All them females be flirting with me nonstop. It gets so tirin’ telling people you’re taken ya know?” 

You rolled your eyes at Johnny’s comment. 

“Just keep boosting your ego, MacTavish.” You retort back in a joking matter. 

You were currently rewatching an old season, for you don’t like to watch anything new without Johnny. He always insists that you can, as long as you don’t spoil anything, but watching shows was y’alls thing that y’all can’t do separately. You were measuring out leather that would match Johnny’s hand measurements and cutting them out, putting them to the side. The wine you had on the tableside next to you was a Saint Marc Merlot that Johnny got you when he was last stationed in his home country. It's a delicious wine but you only had it every once in a while since it was a wine you can only buy in Scotland. Johnny has promised you that one day he will take you up to his home country one day. He swears you will love it. And you cannot wait for that day to come. Johnny has never broken a promise to you so you know it will happen soon. The vanilla candle you lit earlier was burning down low so you knew you were going to have to blow it out soon. Don’t want to burn the house down before Johnny gets back. Finding a good stopping point, you sat the leather gloves down to the side and walked up to the candle. You hesitated on blowing it out. You know you have to, but that lingering, lonely feeling came back to mind. The vanilla scent comforts you yet hurts you cause it makes you think of Johnny. You loved him so much that it hurts. But he said things would be different when he came home and you can only hope it’s the thing you’ve been secretly wanting to happen. But again, you never would say that outloud. Feeling content with yourself, you leaned, sucked a deep breath in, and-

*KNOCKKNOCK*

You quickly leaned back and stared at your front door. You weren’t expecting anyone and Johnny certainly didn’t tell you he would be coming home. Unless it’s…

No. 

No, don't think that way. Just see who it is right now. For all you know it could be the damn mail delivery driver. You gathered up your emotions and walked to the front door, swinging it open. 

“Hello, my love.” 

Johnny was standing there at your front door, holding a bouquet of flowers, with a gift bag hanging off of his arm. Your heart started racing and the tears fell down your face. You did not expect the love of your life to be standing there at your doorway. You were totally surprised. 

“Johnny, you absolute cunt.” You cursed at him as you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him into a hug and your tears staining his chest. 

Johnny laughed at you cursing at him, even though that meant you were just really happy to see him. 

“My sweet, sweet Bonnie. You really did miss meh.” Johnny said, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

Without hesitation, you placed a deep kiss on his lips. Johnny kissed back and even snuck a nibble on your bottom lip. 

“You jerk.” 

“Aye! You’re the one whose been teasin’ me to hell and back.” Johnny remarked, referring to the picture you sent of yourself to him. 

You giggled innocently, just happy he was here in the flesh. 

“Come in.” You led Johnny inside and shut the front door behind him. 

“What’s all this?” You referenced the stuff he was holding. 

“I can’t surprise me lady?” 

“Of course you can, you know me.” You say. 

Johnny handed you the bouquet of flowers, which was a mix of all of your favorite flowers. You turned around and walked to the kitchen to find a vase to put the flowers in. From the kitchen, the living room was blocked from view but you figured Johnny was just relaxing after coming home from his mission. 

“How was your leave?” You ask. 

“Aye, could’ve been better but Simon was actually in a decent mood the whole time.” Johnny spoke back to you. 

Johnny has told you enough about Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley to know that he prefers working alone and yet he and Johnny work so well together and seem to be getting closer with each mission they have together. While you know Johnny loves you and always loves spending time with you, you are happy to hear that Johnny is starting to get a close guy friend. 

“That’s good, that’s good.” You say as you put the flowers into the vase full of water you had. 

You then sat the vase of flowers in the kitchen window so it could get some sun, turned around and headed back into the living room to find Johnny down on his knees, holding something in his hand. 

“J-Johnny.” You stuttered out, completely shocked by the sight you were seeing unfold in front of you. 

“My sweet. You are the most beautiful, most kind, most carin’ lass I have ever been with in my life. I know that I want to spend the rest of me life with you. So now, I gotta ask,” Johnny started as he opened up the little box he had in his hand to reveal a beautiful ring, “will you marry me?” 

The pent up tears and emotions finally came out, but for a different reason. Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish was asking you to marry him. 

“Oh my god..” You croaked out, barely able to get your ‘Yes’ out. 

“Soo, is that a yes?” 

“Yes, of course you damn idiot.” You said as you jumped onto him, hugging him tightly. 

Johnny fell onto the ground on his back, while keeping hold of the ring, and holding you tightly. 

“I love you, Johnny.” 

“I love ya too, Bonnie.” Johnny said it back, “there’s another thing too.” 

“W-What?” You ask, pulling back. 

“We will finally be able to start the life that you want.” 

“You..You mean?” 

“I am a retired man, love.” 

You squealed in excitement as you hugged Johnny tightly once more, happy to hear what he told you. This was truly the start of your new life together. 

“I can’t wait to be a MacTavish.” 

“And I can’t wait till I make you mine forever.” Johnny said. 

“You already do that in bed.” You remark, making Johnny’s face flush red. 

“Away ‘n bile your head.” Johnny joked, planting a kiss on your lips. 

This was truly the fantasy fairytale love life that people have written about for many many years and it’s all thanks to Johnny MacTavish. 

END

[pan-fangirl-345]

Emails and Kids

Kazumi takes over for her father, and you have to care for Sora in your brother's absence.

TW: Mentioned/implied child abandonedment, swearing.

Katsuki had been staring at his open email for two fucking hours.

He had typed in the address, and he had been confident about what he wanted to say.

Unfortunately, Katsuki had never been the best with words that didn't sound utterly violent, and now he was trying to figure out how not to sound like an asshole, but still sound like himself.

Over the years, he had gotten better at sounding like a professional, but sometimes it took him a few minutes to find the right words.

He was having trouble with the introduction though. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to realize that there was a specific way he needed to phrase the beginning of an email.

'Good evening' sounded too stiff, and not like him at all.

'Hello' sounded off too.

'Dear' was off the table immediately.

"Why is this so fuckin' hard?" he muttered, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his eyes.

"Tha's a bad wor' Papa," Kazumi mumbled as she curled into his chest.

"Sorry mini me," he said, stroking her hair.

He had put her to bed three hours ago and she had come out two hours ago crying. Unable to get her to calm down, he had let her climb up into his lap.

"What are you doin'?" she asked, twisting.

"Emailing the friend Uncle Denki told me about. The one that might be your new babysitter."

"Yeah?"

He hummed, staring at his blinking cursor.

"Waz their name?" Kazumi inquired.

"(Y/N)," Katsuki replied, "she went to middle school with Uncle Denki."

"Can I write to her?" Kazumi asked, suddenly much more awake than she had been moments before.

"Maybe after I do baby," Katsuki told her. "I'm not entirely sure-"

"Well you're not going to do it," Kazumi said with a pout. "You've been staring at the screen for a long time now."

Katsuki hated that she was so perceptive sometimes, there were times when he really wanted her to oblivious to the world around her, especially when it came to him.

"I'm just thinking it out," he grumbled.

"Out of the way Papa," Kazumi said, shoving Katsuki's hands off the keyboard so she could type. "I got this."

"You've got to let me look it over when you're done though," he compromised. "Just so I know there aren't any spelling mistakes."

"Okay Papa," she murmured, typing furiously on the keyboard.

"Easy baby, don't break it," Katsuki muttered.

Kazumi was intelligent for her age, she had skipped her first year of elementary school and gone right into her second. Now, at eight years old and in her third year, Kazumi was still at the top of her class.

Katsuki scanned her email to the woman as she typed, surprised by how few mistakes she made.

Katsuki made a point to make it to every parent-teacher conference, and he tried to make it to most school activities, so he knew how amazing her grades were, but he rarely ever saw anything that expressed it.

Kazumi- unlike Katsuki when he had been her age- didn't like flaunting the fact that she was smarter than most kids her age. She didn't brag about her accomplishments, but she did tell Katsuki about her day at school whenever he asked.

He made a point to ask her about it every day at some point.

Katsuki had mixed feelings about how much better at this his eight year old was than him.

He was proud of her, and things like this reminded him that he hadn't completely fucked his child up, but it also made him a little aggravated with himself that he hadn't been able to do it on his own.

Asking for help was still something a little foreign to him.

"Done!" she declared, leaning back into Katsuki's chest.

Katsuki scanned her email again, then sighed. He had no reason not to send it, and Katsuki knew that he couldn't delete it in her presence.

Having a foundation for his own part of the email, Katsuki adjusted his daughter so he could type out his portion. He checked it for mistakes, then hit send before he could doubt himself.

"Time for bed you little gremlin," Katsuki said, swinging Kazumi up into his arms.

"Okay," she agreed.

He tucked her into bed again, kissing her forehead as he shut her lamp off.

He thought about the woman in the ramen shop earlier, wondering if his hunch was right.

Now all he had to do was wait.

Katsuki hated waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You opened your email, surprised that it seemed like Bakugou's daughter had been the one to send the email.

She did seem like a nice girl, curious in nature as you scanned through what she had written you. She seemed interested in meeting you, and apparently thought quite highly of someone she referred to as 'Uncle Denki' so she thought rather highly of you by extension.

After you had finished through her portion, it seemed like her father had taken over.

He was also interested in meeting you, and had suggested the small ramen shop that you been at earlier. He seemed professional enough, but the press and media had something else to say about him.

He had never been your favorite hero, but you had never met the man in person.

You glanced at where your nephew was currently chowing down on his ramen.

You hit the reply button, typing furiously before he noticed that you attention had been turned elsewhere.

Bakugou was one of Denki's close friends, and they had been through a lot together. Kazumi seemed like a sweet child, and no matter how you felt about her father, she was a child you could care for.

It wouldn't hurt to meet them, you supposed. Though if you couldn't bring Sora, it would be a bit of a problem.

He was in your care until your brother came back from whatever mission he had been sent on.

"Auntie, where's Daddy?" Sora inquired.

"He's away for business, Sora, but he'll be back before you know it. Until then, you get to hang out with me!"

He gave you a blinding grin that you couldn't help but return.

You were worried though. Your brother had never looked as nervous as when he had dropped Sora off with a quick explanation that he was going on a mission and didn't know when he'd be back.

You had known what he was talking about as soon as he said the word 'business'. He had always said 'work' when it referred to his current job. 'Business' was reserved for the part of your life you had sworn to try and forget.

You had thought your brother had forgotten it too, but here he was, giving his parental responsibilities over to you for the foreseeable future simply because a monster from his past had called.

"Auntie, can we watch a movie?"

"Sora, you may not be at home, but bedtime is still a thing. We can watch a movie if you go right to bed after," you said, hitting send on the email you had sent back to the Bakugous, and turned your attention back to your nephew.

You couldn't help the memories that poured forth at the memory of why you had to tuck your nephew in that night.

"Love you Auntie," he murmured.

"I love you too Sora," you told him, kissing his forehead.

If his father didn't come back, if the old life pulled him back into the darkness for good, you would care for his son like your own.

After all, no one had been there to do it for you.

Taglist:

@savvy-luna @ebiharachan @owl232 @clonewarssimp @bananasquash @kakiwrites @cloudsgathering @wifunozomi @jazzylove @pansexualproblemchild

[newmih]

Bad memories

Words: 1934

Characters: Theo Raeken x reader, mention of Peter, Malia, Cora, Derek (the Hales in general)

Warning: this is sad I guess so if you are not comfortable with death don't read

Summary: Theo has been living with Y/N Hale for a few weeks. Taking advantage of the young woman's absence he decides to visit. He finds a box that catches his attention.

A/N: I wrote this when I wasn't really in a good mood. I guess it's sad? But I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. I can't decide if I'm satisfied with the ending but it took me so long to finish this picture that I don't want to touch it. /English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistake I made./ /Picture is not mine./

Masterlist

Bonne lecture

Even a cup of strong coffee had not succeeded in waking up Theo completely. He had spent a night agitated by nightmares that he fortunately forgot when he woke up. However, he could not hide his dark circles for long from Y/N who would inevitably worry about them. He knew he didn't deserve her kindness and attention after all he had done but he couldn't help but enjoy every moment he spent with her. "I don't judge people by their worst mistakes but by the best they've done." He'd never met anyone with those kinds of thoughts. Usually people just judged you on your appearance and a minority made up their minds after knowing you a little. But few people bothered to know everything about you, all your choices and possibilities.

The chimera was dragging her feet in the hallway that led to her room. Right across the hall from the Hale's. Her door was ajar and he fought the urge to go in and take a look. She had given him her trust with her eyes closed, he had no right to betray her. Bored and with nothing else to do but reread the same book for the third time he decided to explore the big house.

[...]

A gym, a large library and a few rooms later he arrived at the staircase that led to the attic. Y/N hadn't said anything about this room so he assumed he was allowed to go there. The wooden staircase creaked with every step he took, so he was very discreet. He pushed open the heavy wooden door which also creaked and finally entered the room. The sunlight seemed to be struggling to penetrate the small windows. The few rays illuminated dust particles flying in the air. The place seemed abandoned. He felt as if no one had been there for an eternity. Thanks to his supernatural vision he easily found the switch. The light sizzled a bit but eventually came on. Dozens of boxes were waiting for someone to open them. Old furniture was gathering dust, some under tarps, others in the open air. A few frames adorned the walls with old wallpaper. Theo approached one of them. Above one could see a very old black and white photograph. Bright spots took the place of the eyes of most of the people present, werewolves.

Thinking he wouldn't find anything interesting to see here he turned around and headed back toward the door when he came up against a cardboard box he hadn't seen. He bent down to push it out of the way with his hands for fear that someone would break what was inside when a sentence written in black marker caught his eye. "Bad memories. Do not open."

He hesitated for a long time, fighting against his curiosity. Then finally he took one last look around, hesitating, and sat down beside the box. It had not been closed, as if its owner thought he (she) would still need it. The first thing he took out were some photo albums that looked a few years old. The pages smelled old and were yellowed. Since they were on top, a layer of dust covered them. He blew on them and started coughing right after, shaking his hand in front of his face.

The pages were covered with photos, some in black and white and some in color. Years and years of heritage, of generations were frozen on its pages. Occasionally, Theo would find a portrait, or a drawing. He knew that the Hales were a powerful and ancient family, but he never realized that they had been around for so long. Finally he opened the last album in the box. It didn't look as old as the others, but the cover was battered as if someone had thrown it away and stepped on it. He ran his fingers over the title, neatly written in blue pen, "The Hales, by Talia Hale. He smiled at the lack of originality, then realized. He wasn't just holding any book. He was holding the place where the latest photos of all the Hale members were probably kept. He wondered if he had the right to open it, he felt that touching it was already disrespectful but he couldn't help it. He had already talked to Derek and even Cora but both rarely mentioned what had happened. When Peter did, it was in jest, although everyone could recognize the bitterness in his voice and the sadness in his eyes. Malia had no memory of it and maybe she had never heard of it in her youth, so it was probably for the best. As for Y/N, she pretended that nothing had happened, she was completely unaware of the episode. Sometimes the chimera had the impression that she had erased the memory forever. He understood her, who would want to remember such a thing, who would want to remember the death of most of her family, who would want to remember that?

He didn't even realize that he was already turning the pages, too lost in his thoughts. Most of the pictures showed a happy and fulfilled family. You could see the babies growing up, the children becoming teenagers and the parents getting older little by little. He got about halfway through when he came across some scribbled pictures. He could still see very clearly what was underneath the black erasures but the damage was done. He turned the last few pages briskly to find that the same thing had happened to the last paper. He sat staring at the last page. A newspaper article had been pasted on it. The ink in the text had faded over time but the gist was still there and the photo was a clue; the fire that had destroyed an entire family.

"I did that when I found out I was going to have to go back to Beacons Hills."

The man gasped and looked up. Y/N was standing in the doorway, leaning against it. Who knows how long she had been there. He looked at her wide-eyed, ashamed to have been caught in the act. He was so focused that he hadn't even heard her come in, nor had he heard when she had called him or when she had gone up the stairs. He lowered his head and was about to apologize when she spoke again and walked towards him.

"I was so angry at Derek. I didn't understand why we had to do it. Laura was already there and she was strong enough to handle it without our help right? But he knew, he knew something was wrong, that something had gone wrong. I guess it was a hunch. Anyway, it wasn't enough and this town took my big sister away from me too. As if there hadn't been enough death, as if this damn forest hadn't seen enough bloodshed."

At this stage of her monologue she had reached the level of Theo who was looking at her, mouth closed, eyes wide open. He considered her his best friend and besides he didn't care if she didn't, he could call her a friend and that was all that mattered. But she had never confided in him in this way. She stooped and sat down next to him, taking the album from his hands. She turned a few pages and gently caressed the pictures, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"These are the only things that survived the fire. And I still can't figure out if that's a blessing or not. Because every time I look at these pictures I can't help but imagine what life would have been like if nothing had happened, what their life would have been like. I feel like it should have been me instead."

Theo took her hand but said nothing. He wanted to comfort her but he didn't know how to make her feel better. So he just gently stroked her hand, looking at her gently. She shifted slightly to retrieve something from the box but did not let go of his hand. He could not help smiling but took back very vitreous before she saw it, it was not the moment.

Y/N held in her hand a chain with a stone on the end and a leather jacket.

"This is Boyd and Erica's stuff. I don't know if I'm allowed to say we were friends. I feel like they never really held me in their hearts but... It was still hard. I found Erica's body, she had been dead for days and I saw my brother being forced to kill his own beta. All he ever wanted was a pack, a family. He wasn't planning on hurting anyone. It's not fair Theo, it's not fair."

She held back a sob and put the objects on the floor. The chimera didn't know why she had decided to confide in him like this, but he was going to do everything he could to make her feel understood. The first time he had told her his thoughts, he was so worried that she wouldn't listen to him or care about what he had to say. But Y/N Hale wasn't like that, he knew that now. She was gentle, despite all that life had thrown at her. She cared for others and didn't judge them by what they had done. Now it was his turn to help her.

"You know, I think Allison was the real first friend I ever had. She never judged me, even when she found out who I was, even when Gerard made her think my brother was the reason her mother died. I'm sure I would have understood if she had hated me then. I know what it's like to lose your parents. She paused for a moment to catch her breath before resuming. I also know what it's like to lose your best friends. But I can't complain. Lydia was in love with Aiden. She had lost the man she loved and her best friend. I had no right to complain, right?" Theo didn't even notice that she had asked him the question as she looked him straight in the eye. All he could notice were the tears streaming down her beautiful face. He wished he could wipe them away but he didn't dare move his hand.

With no answer from her friend, Y/N turned her face away and stared into the void. She was probably recalling old memories but the man couldn't tell if they were good or bad. She was still crying but she had a nostalgic smile on her face.

"And then there was Brett. But I guess I should have expected it. That family is cursed. The life expectancy of our companions seems to be shortened when we finally meet them." A laugh left her mouth, but it certainly wasn't joyful. She was done talking. She wouldn't open her mouth for a long time. All the H/C wanted right now was to stay in Theo's arms, in comfortable silence. Maybe he would agree. Either way, she didn't have much left to lose so she leaned in and pressed herself against her friend's chest. He tensed for a moment before finally taking her in his arms to comfort her. She cried for what seemed like hours. It was the first time in a while that this had happened to her. She had gotten used to bottling up her emotions. Y/N finally fell asleep in the chimera's warm embrace. She was finally resting. The world owed her that much.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ DID YOU CANCEL YOUR PLANS FOR ME? ❜

❚❙ ANGEL REYES MASTERLIST.

✨ REQUEST by @rocketqueen: hey Aurora! first of all: i love your blog. I guess you know that by that point cause i’m always here, but i’d like to say it again just for you to be sure of the amazing blog you have. And I’d like to do a request from January. The prompt is number 15 “Do you cancel your plans for me?” (it’s the fluff prompt list) with Angel Reyes, please! Thank you 💘

Gif credit: to the awesome @angels-reyes.

WORDS: about 1k.

❚❙ A/N: first of all, thanks for requesting. You don't know how happy you make me every time I see you in my notifications and I'm glad that you enjoy my blog this much, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry it took me so long and I know this should be part of ‘January of Prompts’, but I decided to take it as another request due it has been impossible for me to write this challenge. Concretely, this work is the first I write for Mayans after two months of suffering a writer's block, so I hope with all my heart that you all really enjoy it. As always, thank you for all the support you show me every day.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

You haven't ever cared about your friends' opinion. You haven't ever cared about what they used to say about Angel, about his man-reputation, nor about the fearsome Mayans. You know him ever since, you know how he behaves, how he acts, his red flags, his unconscious tics when he is nervous or happy or hurt. You know him better than yourself. That's why you haven't cared either about your friend making you choose between them or he, thinking you would choose them. They were wrong. Unlike your inner circle, Angel has never said a single bad word about them. He has always protected you, taken care of you, given you the best advice, motivated you to continue studying Medicine, and helped you to chase your dreams.

Tonight you were supposed to spend it with your friends and family, but you know you wouldn't have any fun hearing all of them criticize each other under sarcasm and fake laughs. Stabbing their backs and pretending it's okay, it's something normal in society nowadays. And there you are, hands within your pockets, crossing the junkyard alley straight to the clubhouse. Soon, the latin music fills your surroundings starting to sound louder as you reach the epicenter of the party. The night Angel becomes a full member.

He didn't ask you to come, even if there wasn't he desired the most than being with you. He knew about your plans and he didn't have the right to put you into a corner. He said you could celebrate the next day. What Angel didn't know is you had your preferences clear and a decision was taken. With a smile from ear to ear, your gazes find the other. He's sitting close to the bonfire with his brothers and some of Vicki's girls trying to catch his attention, drinking and pretending he is having a good time. But the gesture on his face changes completely at the moment he realizes that you are really there. It's not a vision, it's not a dream, it's not alcohol intake.

Cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand after a sip from his beer, he leaves it on the ground standing up from his chair. Even if the talks continue around the two of you, you have earned every single pair of eyes there, following the new brand member walking towards you.

“Shouldn' yo—”.

“Maybe”. You interrupt him, shrugging your shoulders and stopping your feet some inches away from him.

“Did you… cancel your plans for me?” Angel asks, trying to hide a funny and triumphal smirk while tangling his hands on his abdomen.

“Maybe”. You repeat licking your incisors to gulp a giggle.

“Your family must be… very disappointed”.

“You are my family, Angel”.

The fleeting shine that crosses his black orbs gives you shivers. The way he has to lick and bite his bottom lip lets you know he is somewhat nervous after hearing it. You're more than aware that he has strong feelings for you. Real ones. You aren't a game for him. You aren't a possible one nightstand. Seeing you there, hearing you say those words get his heart racing at the edge of collapsing.

Angel doesn't hesitate to rest a hand on your cheek to place a warm kiss on the other. His lips are trembling, just like his fingers, and you can swear that it's the sweetest thing you have ever experienced. You can't help but close your eyes when you feel his mouth coming a little closer to yours with short and clumsy kisses, feeling the fear on him of you pushing him away in the last second. But you can't move.

When his lips find yours, fireworks explode inside your belly. The Big Bang happens around you. The time stop. His breathing gives you goosebumps and his tongue parting your lips to play with yours gives you shivers. You haven't ever felt this good, as if you had the world in your hands as if nothing were impossible. That's what Angel provokes in you. Sensations and emotions that you can't explain, but the kind of ones that made you and made him addicted to each other.

“Ain't nothing without you”. He whispers too slowly, dragging every syllable through his tongue, not being able to open his eyes yet. “You're the air tha' keeps me afloat”.

“Angel…”

“No, listen… I'd never do anything to hurt you, you know it, right? Despite… wha' people think, I can make it work. You and I. The club, a life together”. His lips brush yours so soft that it's making your legs tremble, having to tangle your fingers in his kutte. “I've always wanted you, I've always loved you even when I couldn't love myself, 'cause you have done it fo' me”.

“It will work, Angel. I know it. We'll make it work”. You cheer him up, feeling how the smile on his lips becomes a little bigger. “I adore you... You're a blessing to my life, mi angelito. I wouldn't rather be in another part of the world than by your side”.

As soon as his strong bare arms wrap your mid back while a purr escapes his throat, you break into giggles putting your hands on his nape. Angel embraces you as much tight as he can, practically melting into one figure for a couple of seconds. He's a true angel from heaven, but his hugs are warm like hell.

“Are you gonna show me your new patches, ah?” You are very curious and interested when he pulls himself away to hold your hands, noticing them on his flaps.

He nods his head with a proud grimace, pointing at them and the absence of the prospect one, before turning around to show you the bigger one. Mayans MC insignia. Colorful and clean. You can't help but trace it with your fingertips.

“You like it?”

“Pretty much. Looks good on you”.

“Everything looks good on me, baby”. Clicking his tongue and raising his eyebrows, Angel faces you again to start to walk backwards to his brothers.

You roll your eyes inevitably, letting him guide you to be greeted by his new family. A family you are now part of.

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 7: Lillian

The team gets ready for their respective dates... or lack thereof.

❃❃❃

“Ugh. We get a night off, and I’m stuck with an essay.”

Though the crime scene investigation had been a drag, in Cait’s opinion, their current situation sucked even more. They hungered for something exciting to happen— hell, a pissed-off Onikuma could crash through their door right then and there, and it would be a pleasant reprieve from the drudgery of a Grimm Studies report. Fighting was always preferable over writing.

Who cared about the variations in Grimm anatomy and physiology based on their habitat, anyway? One looked like an elephant, one looked like a wooly mammoth.

Either way, Cait had set themselves up for a boring night in, and was left silent and grouchy.

“How are you guys planning to spend your day-offs?” Hattie asked the Armilde twins as she slumped back against her pillow. Her small tophat remained firmly on her head, still lopsided.

Silently, Cait tried and failed to recount the last time they’d ever seen her without it.

“I have a charity event to go to,” Amaryllis replied, adjusting a clip-on silver earring onto her right earlobe.

“Oooh, that sounds exciting!” Hattie said, sitting up. “Can I come? Can I come?” 

“Sure! More people there means more funds for the cause. Plus, it’s public, so everyone in Mistral’s pretty much automatically invited.” Amaryllis paused, looking at her Scroll. “…You do still have that nice blue dress of yours from the dance, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Hattie replied.

Amaryllis nodded. “You might want to consider throwing that on, since it’s a kinda formal event, but otherwise you’re welcome to tag along.”

“Yay!” Hattie squealed, clapping her hands. “Thank you, Ammy! You going with anyone else?”

“Hector Wulfric. The event’s organized by his family, actually.” Amaryllis answered. A smile crept onto her face while she planned how she was going to spend the evening with her boyfriend. 

“Oh.” Hattie said, immediately deflating. “In that case, never mind. I don’t wanna play third wheel.” She took a seat again on the end of her bed. “How about Lilly? What’s she gonna do tonight?”

Lillian wasn’t there to answer. She’d been in the bathroom for a good half hour, brushing her teeth to a complete and almost blinding white.

“She’s going on a date with… what was it, sweet guns? No, wait, she called her tha— Oh, I remember. Sweet buns.” Amaryllis recounted, barely stifling a giggle.

“Who now? Is she that same girl Lillian mentioned yesterday?” Hattie asked in the same moment as Lillian emerged from the bathroom.

“Hush, you.” Lillian said, having overheard them. “For the millionth time, Am, her name is Rosario— and yes, Hattie, she’s the same one I mentioned last night.” She explained.

“Remind me how it went, again? Was it, ‘I got a couple of “sweet buns” right here, and they’ve already got your name on ‘em.’” Amaryllis put her hands firmly on her rear and swung her butt in a circle. She wiggled repetitively, mocking a tease she had observed from Rosario.

Lillian turned to give Amaryllis an especially evil glare. “You know what, Am? You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, okay.” Amaryllis adopted a placating tone, though the mischievous glint in her eye remained. “But am I a pain in your sweet bu—?” She began, continuing her gluteal choreography.

With a snarl, Lillian grabbed one of Amaryllis’ good leather boots from the floor and hurled it at her sister. It collided with the top of the redhead’s cranium, and she let out a strangled yelp.

“Ow, ow, ow...” Rubbing the top of her head, Amaryllis snapped back, “I swear to god, Lilly, if you messed up my hair…”

Hattie giggled in the background, though she lacked context on exactly what Amaryllis was making fun about— something about sweet buns, but that was all she could make out. Her stomach growled at the thought of the tasty pastry.

“Okay, okay, it’s time to stop. Both of you had your laughs.” Lillian said, as she grabbed her drawstring bag and threw it over her shoulder. “And sorry, Hattie, but I got no extra room tonight. As roaringly as I think you two would get along, I think it’s about time I spend some alone time with my girlfriend.” She coughed.

“Mmm.” Hattie mumbled in response. Though downtrodden by the absence of her teammates for the night, she knew that it was neither of their responsibilities to take her along with them— after all, they still had their private lives. “…Lillian?”

“Yes?” Lillian asked, straightening her cropped hoodie around her midriff.

“Your girlfriend’s the same one with the pastry shop, isn’t she?” Hattie asked.

“Same one.”

Hattie puffed her lips out. “Will you bring back some pastries when you’re done with your date, pleeeease?”

“Sure, I think that could be arranged.” Lillian laughed. “Okay, I should be on my way by now— I don’t want to keep Rosa waiting.”

Amaryllis “I’m going as well— I’ve still got to pick up my dress.” She turned to Hattie and Cait for a moment. “Oh, and you two eat some dinner later, okay? Hattie, if you really have nothing else to do, it’d be really nice of you to help Cait finish their paper. Afterward, maybe you two can come down to the charity ball.” She said invitingly.

Hattie’s eyes lit up again. “Hey, maybe we could! What do you think, Cait?”

Cait didn’t make any effort to face the twins, instead opting to wave a hand to them while facing the window. “Yeah.” They replied listlessly.

“…Okay then. We’ll see you later.” With that, Lillian and Amaryllis turned and exited the dorm room.

***

As Amaryllis and Lillian walked through Haven’s low-lit and empty dormitory halls, they continued to talk about each other’s plans for the evening.

“So... where are you taking Rosario?” Amaryllis inquired in an innocent tone.

“We’re heading down to the cliffs. I heard there are some nice spots over there for a late picnic.” Lillian answered flatly, looking straight ahead without breaking her stride.

“Cliffs. How very romantic.” Amaryllis drawled.

“Yeah, yeah. How about you and Hector, got anything hot and heavy planned for tonight? I heard something about you picking up a dress. I smell something fishy here.” Lillian turned to face Amaryllis, wiggling an eyebrow.

“Ew, don’t even go there. This outfit is for tonight’s event, and tonight’s event only. I’ll change clothes after I go to the salon to get my hair and face done up, and I gotta hit that first since it’s already getting pretty late.” Amaryllis hesitated. “And as far as I know, the only thing that’ll be getting hot tonight is my face from nervousness. Hector said his dad’s going to be there, and he wants me to meet him.”

“Heh. I know the feeling.” Lillian chuckled.

She knew full well that her sister had never met Hector’s family before— both her and the Wulfric lad had seemed secretive about the whole relationship, though they had been dating for well over a year by now. She also was versed in the experience of having to meet a special someone’s family for the first time, and a sweaty face didn’t even start to describe it.

Honestly, it felt more like a jolt of terror up the spine, followed by the sensation of one’s stomach falling right into their feet.

“Don’t worry, Am. They’ll love you.” Lillian reassured her sister. Smirking, she continued, “Just don’t tell them that the reason their beloved son is head-over-heels for you is because of those lumps of fat glued to the front of your ribcage.”

Amaryllis flushed red, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, shut up. I’ll have you know that Hector loves all the fat in my body, regardless of its exact location.”

“Yeah?” Lillian retorted. “Tell that to the two loves of his life: peanut butter and jelly.” She teased as she pointed her thumb at Amaryllis’ chest. “…Or was it butter, and I can’t believe it’s not butter?”

“Please. His nicknames for my breasts are much more creative than that.” Amaryllis countered.

A pause.

“So you admit that he has nicknames for them, huh?”

Blushing a brighter shade of red, Amaryllis huffed and walked as fast as she could, overtaking Lillian. She was becoming increasingly annoyed with her sister, not because of what she was saying, but because she had no good retorts up her sleeve to retaliate with.

“Bye, sis. Have fun with your boob fetishist of a boyfriend.” Lillian waved, a guileless smirk plastered on her face.

“You have a nice date too… sweet buns fetishist!” For one last time, Amaryllis turned around to face Lillian and performed the corresponding taunt.

Turning around, she nearly walked right into a green-haired, pink-eyed girl with a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, who had obviously been witness to her previous action. Unmoving, she apparently appeared to still be processing it.

After a moment’s pause, the girl blinked, snorted a small laugh and grinned. “Yeah, Sweet buns, all right.” She cracked, holding the toothbrush out of her mouth to speak.

Hiding her face with her arm from embarrassment, Amaryllis ran past the girl and out the entrance of the dormitory. Lillian and the girl watched with amusement as she fled.

“Hey.” The girl said, turning back to face Lillian.

“Hey.” Lillian replied, sparing a second’s eye contact as she walked past. She vaguely recognized her as one of the first-years.

With that brief acknowledgement, they both continued on their separate ways, in opposite directions along the hall.

[dreamcatcherfication]

Ghosts Are Just as Real as You and Me - Part 5

Five parts? This is further than I thought I’d get. All I can say about this chapter is that Aragon is a saint and she deserves all our love for being the best person ever. Aka she’s the only one who hasn’t made bad decisions yet. This chapter might seem a little disjointed, seeing as it’s written in snapshots, but I wanted to try the new style. Hope you enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, the only thing I’ve eaten today is a burnt piece of toast off the floor.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, (very) brief violence, cursing, Henry VIII

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Anne Boleyn had a plan. Or well, half a plan. Okay, maybe more like a fourth of a plan, but she was trying. There was no way she intended to help Henry tear her family apart, but there was only so much she could do. He had put her in an impossible position and Anne needed all her wits to figure a way out. 

At first, she had tried avoiding Kitty. If Anne didn’t hang around Kit, she wouldn’t have anything to give Henry. After her confrontation with Cathy yesterday, Anne had gone to her room to make sure everything was as it should be. Henry had demanded she write him a letter on everyone’s actions in the past week, so she had done as he asked, leaving the finished product outside her window. By isolating herself, Anne’s hope was that the letter wouldn’t provide him with his much needed information. But her behavior had become suspicious. Cathy was catching on, Anne knew that, so she had to try a different approach. It was a long shot, but Anne needed to start acting on her fourth of a plan.

“Hey Kit,” Anne poked her head into her cousin’s room. Kit glanced up from her book and smiled.

“Hey Annie, what’s up?” She put a bookmark in the page and set the book down, devoting her attention to Anne.

Inhaling through her nose, Anne pushed away any internal doubt. “Do you want to go on a walk with me? Through the park or something like that.”

Standing up Kit agreed. “Sure Anne. Two days in a row, this must be a record.”

Silently recalling what Kit was referring to, Anne remembered Kitty’s absence as well as Jane’s and Aragon’s. That must’ve been what she was referring to. Anne felt a pang of hurt run through her body because of how little she was involved in what was going on with her cousin. Usually they were attached at the hip, but because of Henry… “Great! Let’s go now.”

Anne ruffled Kit’s hair goodnaturedly as the two of them shared a grin. Without even acknowledging any of the other queens, the two of them beelined for the door. Praying no one would comment, Anne opened the door and ushered Kit outside. “Anne where are you taking -” she heard Cathy call, but Anne shut the door and blocked her voice out. 

“Did someone call your name?” Kit asked, taking a step towards the door.

“Nope,” Anne blocked her advance. “You’re probably just hearing things.”

Kit’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Anne, but she said nothing about her strange behavior. “Right…”

Attempting to cover up, Anne put on a dazzling smile. “Let’s get going, eh.”

Staring at the door, Cathy hadn’t moved from her spot. Anne had completely blown her off. For usually being the center of Anne’s attention, it was startling to Cathy. Not that she... wanted Anne’s attention. But it didn’t feel good to be completely disregarded. She must have looked offended, because when Jane entered the room, she immediately stopped in front of Cathy. “Is something wrong?”

Turning away from the door, Cathy faced Jane. She debated what to tell her, before confessing, “Anne’s been acting weird. Not weird in her normal way. I asked her where she was going with Kit and she totally ignored me.”

Jane frowned. “She has been very withdrawn lately. Is there anything else?”

Cathy bit her tongue. She could tell Jane about Anne’s journal or… “No. Just that her personality did a full 180 and that’s what’s bothering me.”

“Yes, well Anne is unpredictable, maybe she’s planning something?”

Glancing around Jane at the door, Cathy flared her nostrils. “Yeah, maybe.”

Catching Cathy’s strange reaction, Jane was flooded with suspicion. There was something Cathy wasn’t sharing with her. Jane wouldn’t push, but filed away the thought for later. If Cathy was being secretive, that immediately made Jane trust her less, especially around Kit. “There’s certainly a lot of pressure on everyone. Especially with Henry popping up everywhere.”

Pausing, Cathy swiveled her head back to Jane. Her mouth opened slightly. “The only person who’s seen Henry was Kit. Unless…”

“No,” Jane quickly covered up. “I meant it… not literally?” Her excuse sounded more like a question than an answer. “It feels like he’s everywhere, is what I mean. No one else has seen him.”

If Jane was suspicious of Cathy, Cathy was doubly suspicious of her. Jane tended to be more collected than the others (bar Aragon), and seeing her suddenly stuttering was a red flag for Cathy. Something wasn’t right. Jane knew something like Cathy did, and she wasn’t sharing. Two could play that game.

The two women who had been helping each other only moments before were now standing in cold silence. They both regarded each other with narrowed eyes and upturned lips. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go write.”

“Of course,” Jane replied, the usual warmth in her gaze gone. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.” They shared a nod, the same thought on both their minds.

The game is on.

“So Kit, what’ve you been up to lately?” Anne started the conversation, putting her hands into her pockets. 

The girl in question shrugged and kicked a rock on the sidewalk. “Not much. I started looking into taking online school.”

Smiling supportively, Anne gave her cousin her approval. “That’s really cool, Kit. What classes? Please don’t say something boring like maths.”

“Nah,” Kit shook her head. “Science and art. But mainly history.”

Scrunching her nose, Anne fumbled with her words momentarily. “Are you - uh, sure that’s the best option?”

“Yes,” Kit stated resolutely. “History’s always interested me. I want to know more, even if I’m a part of it. We missed so much Annie, aren’t you the least bit curious about how we got here?”

“I know how we got here -”

“You know,” Kit laughed, “what the internet and Hamilton have taught you. There’s more to it.”

“Eh,” Anne wasn’t particularly dedicated. “Why focus so much on history when you can live in the now? I’m tired of worrying what already happened. What’s done is done. We’re here for a second chance, we shouldn’t waste it.”

It was hard for Kit not to agree. “I can’t argue with that. We should use our second chances to do something we want to.”

Realizing she was being given a perfect opportunity, Anne gently prodded, “Speaking of second chances, why do you think Henry’s got one?” It was a good way for Anne to get the conversation started so she could press Kitty harder on the Henry topic.

“No.” Kit stopped in place. “I’m out on a nice walk with my cousin who’s been avoiding me for the past week. We are not going to talk about that -” she clenched her teeth in order not to curse, “terrible man. He’s not here right now. I’m not going to let him ruin a perfectly nice afternoon.”

Anne had to admire Kit’s resolve. The protective part of her was ready to defend Kitty at every corner, but the girl looked plenty capable of protecting herself. After the initial shock of Henry’s confrontation had faded, Kit had hardened herself. She had let him get to her once, and she wouldn’t let it happen again, even if it meant she had to cut off her fear. On the inside, Kit felt all sorts of emotions churning in her chest, the kind that would send her running to Jane normally. But she couldn’t do that. She would power through, and she would survive.

Anna had locked the door to her room as she practiced her boxing. A punching bag was makeshift hung from the ceiling as she practiced her stances and kicks. Her grunts were loud, a mix of exertion and frustration. She wasn’t getting the results she wanted and it was working her up. Punch after punch after kick after punch, the bag swung back and forth. Still, Anna was having trouble with the heavier weighted bags. If she couldn’t beat something that wasn’t fighting back, how could she match Henry?

A knock came from the other side of her door followed by, “Can I come in?”

“One second,” Anna called. As fast as she could, Anna took down the punching bag and slid it into her closet, out of view. Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she attempted to appear cool and collected. Unlocking the door, she let Aragon in. 

Aragon’s eyes darted around the room as she walked in, sensing something off. She didn’t comment on it, electing to give Anna her privacy. But there was something she did need to talk about with her fellow divorcee. “Anna.”

“Catherine.”

Sighing, Aragon held her hands together. “I’ve noticed you’ve been out a lot lately. Or shut up in your room. I know how close you and Kitty are, and I don’t think you should be doing this.”

Feeling her defensive instincts kick in, Anna stepped forward. “What do you mean, ‘doing this’?”

Staying calm, Aragon stared Anna in the eyes. “I don’t know, and I don’t need to know. But you’ve disappeared and it’s not helping anyone. I know you care about Kit. She’s doing fine on her own, but we’re all worried about her. If she breaks, you’re the best person to help her. I know Jane or Anne might not feel that way, but I see the way you two act around each other.”

“That sounds vaguely like spying,” Anna commented, leaning against her wall.

“I suppose it does.” Aragon just seemed tired, drained. Anna felt bad, treating her so rudely. “I mean to say that she trusts you more than anyone else. Kit knows you in a way she doesn’t know any of us. She may trust Jane and Anne with everything, but you’re her best friend.” 

There was a twinge in Anna’s heart as she thought about Aragon’s words. She had barely seen Kit this past week, too busy with her own goals. But if Anna didn’t do this, she would be putting Kit in harm’s way. She could afford to lose some of Kit’s trust. She couldn’t afford to lose Kit. “You said she’s been doing fine on her own,” Anna stated bluntly. “She doesn’t need me.”

“Of course she needs you,” Aragon fired back.

Straightening up and stepping away from the wall, Anna tightened her fists. “Don’t treat Kit like a child. She may be young, but she’s not a baby, Catherine.”

The bags under Aragon’s eyes seemed to become even more pronounced when she looked down. “I don’t mean to baby her. I’m not trying to control anyone, but we need to stay unified. If Henry is coming for us, he’s going to come for our cracks. Pulling away from Kit isn’t going to help anyone, Anna.”

“Well that’s not your choice to make now, is it,” Anna refused to give in. Part of her hoped Henry would come and attack them. That way she would have her chance to take him down.

Murmuring, “One track mind,” Aragon started to make her way out of the room.

“What did you say?” Anna asked, trying to disguise the frustration building in her voice.

Her eyes boring straight through Anna, Aragon replied, “One track mind. Don’t focus so much on one thing that you block everything else out.” With that she exited the room and closed the door, leaving Anna alone.

“What does she know,” Anna consoled herself, going to the closet. She pulled the punching bag out, hanging it up once more. Even if Anna secretly understood what Aragon was telling her, she couldn’t take the time to listen. Anna wouldn’t allow herself to waste a second.

On the other side of the door, Aragon had sunk to the floor. She curled up in a ball and muffled her screaming. Yesterday, she had acted like she noticed nothing, being the happy companion Jane and Kitty had needed. But Aragon saw the nervousness behind each of Kit’s movements, especially when she struggled to tell the barista her order. She noticed Jane’s change in demeanor after parking the car. She was witnessing Anna pull away from the group and hurt herself in order to do whatever it is she thought she was doing. Aragon saw how suspicious Cathy had gotten of everyone, constantly watching and judging. She saw how Anne had lost her light and hidden from them all in some misguided attempt to protect her cousin.

The worst part of it all was that Aragon could watch on and do nothing. The others didn’t give her credit for her observations. Aragon wouldn’t push, that was a violation of respect towards the others, but God, did she want to. If she could just help them, any one of them.

A sob came out of her mouth as she curled into herself tighter.

Anne and Kit had reached a small children’s playground when they decided to stop walking. It was the middle of a school day and no one was around but the two of them. Kit was sitting on one of the swings while Anne stood at the top of the play structure. It was a bit of an odd picture, both of them being far too big for the miniaturized playthings, but neither of them mentioned it. “I missed this,” Kit spoke up.

“Missed what?” Anne smiled down at her cousin, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“You and me,” Kit explained. “I know it’s only been a week, but you disappeared and I started thinking maybe it was my fault or -”

“No!” Anne quickly assured her. “It’s never your fault Kitty.”

“Then why were you avoiding me?” Kit stood up off the swing and walked until she was under Anne. She tilted her head up and reached a hand out. Grabbing her cousin, Anne helped to hoist her onto the structure.

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

Frowning, Kit pushed, “Then what were you doing?”

“I…” when Anne couldn’t find an excuse, she admitted, “Okay, I was avoiding you.”

Hurt flashed across Kit’s face, but she stifled it. Best not to dwell on feelings if she could avoid them. “Why would you avoid me?”

There was no way Anne could explain it to Kit without telling her everything. “It’s… complicated.

“Perhaps I could help explain.” The two cousins whipped around at the familiar voice, bodies freezing when they saw him. Henry was standing on the other side of the playground, his smirk just as sickening as Kit remembered. “It’s not as complicated as you make it sound, Dear Anne.”

“Get the fuck away from us,” Anne ordered, stepping in front of Kit.

Henry pretended to look offended. “But I thought you would love to see me after agreeing to help me. Your letter was very insightful.”

Holding back her fear, Kit questioned, “What’s he talking about Anne?”

“It’s not important,” Anne said, not taking her eyes off Henry.

“It actually is quite important,” Henry contradicted Anne, approaching the two. Anne and Kit started to take steps back off the structure. “Without your insight I wouldn’t be able to see how well things are going. You’re all so predictable,” he spit out the last part.

Eyes widening in betrayal, Kit started to step away from Anne. “You’re helping him?”

“I would never help him,” Anne growled.

“But you are,” Henry’s tone was light but his eyes were threatening. “I even have your letter if you’d like sweet sweet Kitty to see it.” He pulled out Anne’s letter from the night before and waved it around like a prize.

The betrayal on Kit’s face was enough to break Anne. “Kit, you have to believe me, he’s lying.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Kit’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “Did you bring me here so he could find me?”

“Of course not!” Anne shouted, distress building in her stomach. There was the fear building that Kit wouldn’t believe her, and she couldn’t afford that. Anne had a plan. She wouldn’t let Henry change the game before she got her turn. “There’s a lot going on that you don’t understand, Kit.”

“Because you never tell me anything,” Kit shot back, her voice icy. 

While the cousins argued, Henry had come closer “I can’t stay much longer,” Henry brought the cousins’ attention back to him. He was now far too close for comfort, his terrible stench engulfing the two girls. “But you can have a little souvenir before I go.” 

And then he pulled out a knife and stabbed Kit.

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

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[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty, “Close Calls”

All chapters can be found here! 

Inspiration tag for the story! 

I recently completed a character survey from Becky’s POV that you should check out! 

Warning! This story contains mentions of: cancer, vomiting, chemotherapy process, and brief mentions of blood.

                                       Sneaky peeeeeeeek!

I want to tell him, but I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to put into words that I’m breaking more and more every day. The paradox of being happy and sad that I’m here with my dad for his next round of chemotherapy. And I sure as hell don’t know how to put into words to Harry that his one in a million hugs could fix everything, if only for a little bit.

But I can’t, and I don’t try to put the feelings into words. I sit there and cry inside of my car until I can’t anymore. And until I find enough strength to sit up and leave, knowing that I won’t call him back.

Snowflakes flutter in front of my eyes, painting the world white. Cars zoom past on the streets down below, the size of my fingernail. Yeah, it sure looks like the first of February out there, the thought sounds inside of me. The festivities of Christmas are long over as a new year has begun. Thinking of what comes next leads to a disorganized mess behind my eyes. I try to rid my thoughts of it with a hard blink, but instead it brings something else forth. 

February 1st. 

It’s Harry’s birthday today. 

He’s 29. Shit. 

Flipping my phone over in my lap, my thumbs get working fast. But once that empty conversation is in front of my eyes, I stall. Before I chicken out, words appear on the screen quickly. 

I read them over and wonder how they sound. Or, more like, how they would sound to him. Do they sound too personal? Do they not sound personal enough? Or am I worrying too much and it’ll just blend into all of the other birthday texts he’s sure to receive? 

“I think if you stare at that thing any harder your eyes are gonna pop out of your skull, Ree.”

I raise my head to find the voice who said that. My dad. He smiles tiredly at me a few steps away. I laugh, realizing he’s right. 

“What’s got your attention so peaked anyways?” he asks. His eyes framed with exhaustion stay for only a second. They return to the Arsenal football match playing on the telly. 

“Um, just trying to write a text to somebody. But I don’t know if it’s good enough.”

“Don’t think about it so much, sweetie. I mean it, you’re probably thinking too hard about it,” he comments, scratching at the blue wool hat covering his head.

Sometimes I still expect to see the IV tubing dangling from his skinny arm. Like all of the other times at the beginning. Patches of faded red cover the insides of his arms from them now. You wouldn’t notice their small marks, but I know they’re there. The seconds of relief from their absence is whisked away when he tugs at his shirt. The moving of the material reveals the tubing leading to the port in his chest. The one I forget has been there for months when his shirt covers it. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” I tell him, and go ahead and hit Send. 

Hi. I’ve been thinking of you. I hope you’re doing alright. Just remembered it was your birthday. Wow 29, huh? Damn you really are getting old, you geezer. You better hurry and claim your senior discount now. No, but really I hope you’re having a good day, Harry. Enjoy your day. Have some drinks and do something for yourself, something you enjoy. I hope 29 is a fantastic year for you. Hopefully you’re not as run down yet as Chandler is. 

I tap Send again, watching the clip from F.R.I.E.N.D.S go with the text marked by a heart. A smile pulls up my cheeks, thinking of the scene. 

The three guys are sitting on the sofa in Central Perk and Chandler talks about not being 21 anymore. He’s 29 now and just wants to relax and go to bed at his bedtime, according to him.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” my dad comments, bringing my eyes back to him. A small smile pinches his sallow cheeks. I nod, thinking of those words, but in a different way. If only that could be said about everything.

Setting my phone down, I try to watch the match with him. I’m glad it’s taking his mind off of the poison coursing through his veins. But I’m distracted by the anxious excitement of waiting to hear a ding from my phone. 

Point after point is scored and it doesn’t come. And I try not to be disappointed, but I think I’m getting rather good at being disappointed lately.

+

The last words of a Katy Perry song trickle from the speakers as I put the car in park. A soft glow pours out the living room window, waiting for me. 

6:13 pm, the digital clock reads. 

I let my head fall back to the head rest. The events of today and their emotions flood my thoughts. As well as the things I still need to do tonight. Bring in the groceries. Put them away. Make dinner, even though he’ll eat 5 bites that he’ll throw up. Sweep and mop the kitchen. Disinfect surfaces. Find time to vacuum when he isn’t sleeping. Change his bedsheets. Do la-

Brrrrrrrrrrring!

Brrrrrrrrrrring!

The incessant words forming inside of my head cease. Looking over to the passenger seat, my phone buzzes face down. I pick up and answer it without looking. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Becks,” a refreshing voice answers. It almost removes the heavy words inside of me, but not quite. 

“Hi, Harry. How was your birthday?” I answer, peering down at my lap. 

“It was pretty fantastic, thank you. ‘m sorry I didn’ get t’ yer text yestaday. Tha’s why ‘m callin’, an’ ‘cause I got yer gift. I love it, it was so nice o’ you! I don’ have this Fleetwood record yet, so thank ya very much. ‘s in incredible condition, too! Hope ya didn’ have t’ pay too much. I know how pricey original records can be,” his syrupy voice utters with extra sugar today. It fills me with comfort, but he also picked the worst time to call. Although, maybe it would help to get out of my head for a few minutes. If I can.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it. I uh, wasn’t sure if you had it or not,” I reply slowly, unsure of what to say. I find it hard trying to pick out words from my head as so many others are whirring around. Playing with the zipper on my coat, I wait for his reply. 

“I can’ wait t’ listen t’ it. There’s not a scratch on it, ‘s unbelievable. I got sum drinks with sum mates last night afta work, so tha’s why I forgot t’ text back. Had lots o’ fun tho’, an’ ate sum good food,” he narrates for me in an animated voice.

I nod at his words, wishing that would suffice. But I have to talk, even though yesterday I would’ve jumped at the chance to hear his voice. Well, I still would today. Just minus the jumping part. 

“Good,” is all I say, amidst the lump building in my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe. But it doesn’t help, it never does. “I’m glad you had a good time,” I somehow manage. Cursing myself, I know he heard my voice crack at the end. Because so did I.

“Becks-.”

“I’m glad you had a good birthday with friends. It did sound fun. Um I’m sorry, but can I call you back? I was just going to run into a shop quick,” I cut him off, the lie knitting together fast. 

“Ya sure, an’ thanks. ‘ll talk t’ ya later, Becks. Drive safe,” he replies, something amiss in his voice. But I can’t listen any further than that, or else the guilt will make the tears come sooner. 

“Thanks, Harry. I will, and happy birthday,” I finish, not giving him a chance to reply before I hang up. 

Because the tears already arrived at my last word. And he sounded so happy, and I couldn’t ruin it. Over the course of the few texts we’ve sent back and forth in the last month, it was the happiest he’s sounded. And I didn’t want to share my dark cloud, and reveal that I’m in the lowest of my lows. Another side of me selfishly wanted him to notice, almost begged him to. And that part is disappointed that he didn’t, but the other part knows that I can’t expect that. Or at least it tries to. 

It’s going to take everything inside of me. To lift my head from the steering wheel and walk back into that house. And to do yesterday and the day before, all over again. Dole out the meds and write them down. Clean up the vomit. Cook the meals. Clean and clean. Endure watching the pain and suffering I can’t do a damned thing about. And on top of it all, try to deal with my own pain and suffering. Not to forget, the schoolwork. 

I want to tell him, but I don’t know how to. I don’t know how to put into words that I’m breaking more and more every day. Or the paradox of being happy and sad that I’m here with my dad for his next round of chemotherapy. And I sure as hell don’t know how to put into words to Harry that his one in a million hugs could fix everything, if only for a little bit. 

But I can’t, and I don’t try to put the feelings into words. I sit there and cry inside of my car until I can’t anymore. And until I find enough strength to sit up and leave, knowing that I won’t call him back. 

+

“Hey, Becky. Could you do me a favor, love?” 

The pictures of puppies I was looking at suddenly feels illegal. Closing my laptop, I look up and find Sophie standing in front of me. I still think for a split second that she’s the mom from The Princess Diaries when I look at her, even after a year of working here. 

“Y-yeah yeah. What do you need, Sophie?” I ask, trying to sit up straight, for once.

“Could you run this down to the post room for me, please? I need it sent out today, and I have a video conference in a minute. I’d wait on it, but I know they pickup the post in about 20. I won’t make it since my video conference is an hour long,” she says, her lips lined in scarlet grimacing. She tugs at the end of her corkscrew brown curls, a nervous habit of hers. “I hate to be one of those bosses that makes you do stupid stuff, but-.”

“Don’t mention it, Soph. A little walk would be nice, anyways,” I insist, taking the large white envelope from her. She thanks me with a smile and a handful of ‘thank yous’ before leaving. 

Standing up, I feel my joints wake back up with a few cracks. I smooth down my maroon blouse over my black dress pants. A shiver tickles my spine, and I decide to slide on my zip up black Columbia. The last thing I do before leaving is to grab my steel water bottle to fill up. 

“Be right back,” I let the girls know at the front desk. They nod with a smile before resuming their hushed conversation. 

My pointed flats hardly make a noise on the tiled floor. It’s hard to look for a noise with the wind whipping around the snow outside. Just looking out the windows lining the hallway makes me feel cold, colder than it should be in March. And regret choosing these shoes this morning. I reach a corner and take a left, thinking back to when I first started and always got lost. I pass a handful of people on my way, familiar and not, and we exchange smiles or nods. I pass the doors for Human Resources, and wave at a friend. A gruff bailiff passes without either, but he was a little too scary looking to make eye contact with anyways. 

I reach another corner, knowing the post room is only two turns away now. I take a right, but a few steps in, I hear voices. And laughing. My feet stop at the sound, and I turn around. The large doors to Courtroom 5 are down the hallway behind me. A clump of people stand across them talking, leaning against the wall under a clock. One of the laughs stands out to me from the others, like a musician can recognize a note. I can only see the backs of heads of those facing away from me. They shield the others from my view. My head goes from side to side with dismissal as I turn back around. But I don’t get very far, because I hear something they say. 

A name. 

It’s like it takes control of my limbs, and again I’m spinning around. I make it just in time to watch a figure break away from the group. Smiling and shaking hands, a laugh tickling their lips. And walk over to the drinking fountain. It’s Rose, one of the lawyers from Harry’s firm. Hmm, I think silently before walking away for real this time. 

I soon find another water fountain and I decide to fill up. Luckily almost all of the ones I come across here have the nifty water bottle attachment. It was always a pain any place I’d go trying to fill it up directly from the spout. With the thick envelope under my arm, I screw the cap back on. Slipping my finger through the little handle at the top, I take off. But once again, I don’t get very far. Because this time I almost run into somebody. 

“Sorry,” I automatically say before even taking a look at the person. But I don’t need to look when their voice tells me what I’m looking for. 

“‘s alr- Wait, ‘s that you, Becks? Well hi, love,” Harry coos, his words catching. 

“What, I don’t get an ‘it’s alright’ just because I’m not a stranger?” I joke, looking into his brilliant green eyes. 

The skin around his eyes crinkles as amusement paints his face. Nodding, his growing curls dance a little on his head. “Yeah, I guess ‘s alright ya almost plowed me ova,” he jokes, his straight white teeth showing behind his happy lips. 

Scratching at the back of his neck, his navy blazer pulls to the side. I see more of the cream button down underneath decorated with small navy polka dots. 

“Hey, I could say the same thing about you,” I argue, trying to calm the happiness budding on my lips. But my control doesn’t last very long. 

Harry replies with a breathy laugh, dropping his hand. “Oh hush, you. Now, what’re ya doin’ here, love? I hope yer not here fer a hearing,” he asks, swinging the leather messenger bag to his side. Probably heavy from his files and laptop, from the look of its bulging seams. 

“I uh, work here,” I tell him slowly, my words escaping me. My fingers wrap around and lift the sleek card resting on my chest. 

His moss green eyes fall to the lanyard hanging around my neck holding the access card bearing my face and name. I receive my answer when his expressive eyebrows shoot to the sky in surprise. “Here? Really, doin’ wha’?” he questions.

“Um, I do some clerk stuff back in admin,” I reply, watching his expression relax into a content smile. 

“Tha’s great, Becks. That’ll look really good on yer resume when ya graduate. Good fer you, ‘m proud o’ you, darlin’,” he comments, patting my arm. I hardly know what to say with everything jumping around in my head all of a sudden. The arm pat. The beaming pride coating his features. The part where he said he’s proud of me, for the second time now. Okay, chill out, Becky. You can’t lose it, not yet. “An’ ya like it here? Are ya learnin’ more ‘bout law?”

“Yeah, I really like it. I work with a small group of people, and we get along really well. I mean there’s always that one coworker you don’t like, but what can you do?” I try to laugh, but I’m afraid it sounds fake. It’s okay though, because his laugh covers the doubt I hear in mine. And the nerves. “And I am learning, too. My boss is really great and I think she uses me being in law school to her advantage. It’s a match made in heaven, I guess.”

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that. ‘m happy t’ hear well, that yer happy,” Harry tells me with a smile framing his words. But when I look at it a second too long, I see the sadness in it. Suddenly, I regret my words, and how they sounded like he wasn’t a good boss. Or that I didn’t like it at his firm. But he doesn’t let me get too far into my thoughts, luckily. “How’s yer dad doin’? I haven’t heard from ya lately, but I undastand yer prolly real busy.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I apologize, looking away with warming cheeks. But his automatic ‘’s okay’ and squeeze to my arm makes me look back at him. “Things have been pretty crazy with classes and being there for my dad. He started chemo again the beginning of last month, since they didn’t get all of the tumor, like they hoped they would. But I guess most people still do it to ensure it’s gone, or something like that. I can’t remember.”

“Stop, ‘s okay,” he says firmly, his eyebrows raising a tick. “How’s he handlin’ tha chemo? ‘ve heard that stuff’s pretty shitty.”

“Yeah, it is. It makes him really sick. It’s hard because sometimes he has to wait to do an infusion of it, because some levels of his are too low. Or they want him to be at a certain weight, even though the chemo makes him lose weight,” I explain, the words coming out effortlessly. “It’s hard to see him like this, and to still be a student and an employee during all of it. But my professors and boss have been really understanding and lenient.”

I bite back the tears, hoping they won’t fall without my permission. But one breaks loose from the gate as I stare at the floor. My flats are separated from his brown leather chelsea boots. Then after a blink they no longer are. I don’t make the decision to look up, but it’s made for me when I feel his thumb wiping the tear away. Peering into his gleaming green eyes always seems to make time stop. A warm smile places dimples in his cheeks, and does something to me. Like it always does. 

“‘s okay. I can’t imagine how hard ‘s been fer ya, Becks. Why didn’ ya ring me? I woulda listened,” Harry asks me, his hand regretfully belonging to himself again. But there isn’t annoyance or anger in his voice. There’s emotions from the other side of the spectrum heard there. Like regret and sadness, and others I can’t fathom right this second. 

“I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. Plus, I hate to be a Debbie Downer,” I confess, admiring the length of his dark eyelashes when they tickle his skin. 

“Yer notta Debbie Downa, Becks, whateva tha bloody hell that ‘s,” he insists. A hint of his giggle meets my ears when I look at him weird due to that revelation. “Ya can call me anytime, ‘kay? Whether ‘s happy or sad, ‘d wanna hear ‘bout it.”

I nod at his words, savoring the sound of his voice. And what it said. His minty breath strokes my cheek as he’s close enough to touch. The words get lost in my throat as his familiar smell wafts over me, catching me off guard. “Thank you,” I mumble thoughtfully, seeing his head move in answer. 

“What’re ya takin’ this semesta fer yer LLB tha’s so tough? I mean, I know all tha courses can be, but ‘m curious. Ya must be onto tha heavier courses by now, ‘s that right?” 

“Well, I’m still catching up to where I should be as a kind of sophomore. Because they changed the degree around since I’ve been gone, so that’s kinda why I took Crim later than usual. But right now I’m taking Banking Law, Family Law, and Environmental Law,” I answer, watching my words register with him. He nods at certain parts, his brow knitted together as he pays attention to me, like there’s nobody else in the entire room. 

“Ugh, those don’ sound any fun. I rememba takin’ those, or what were tha equivalent t’ ‘em when I was in uni. They’re tha ratha borin’ ones, an’ Family’s sad, too,” he comments, a look of disgust playing with his features. It’s amusing, but I get away with not letting it show on my face. Reaching to scratch his chin, I notice the stubble there. And the pops of color on his fingernails. Both fitting, I must say.

“Yeah they’re super boring. I’m surprised you even remember them, seeing as you’re 29 and everything,” I joke, earning a well deserved eye roll from him. But he can’t get rid of the grin showing on his raspberry lips. “Hey, I like your nails. It looks like you did a pretty good job, better than I could even,” I laugh and it grows harder when he holds them out for me to see. A wine red and turquoise blue decorate his fingers. But what gets me is that he puckers his lips, modeling like Zoolander. 

“Thanks,” Harry titters, looking down at them. “Me little niece picked out tha colors an’ helped me paint ‘em tha otha night. But I think they’re growin’ on me. Already chippin’ tho they are, whatta shame.”

You let your niece paint your nails? 

Wait, you’re an uncle? 

Okay, the thought of you with tiny children is not helping things. 

“You sound like a fun uncle.”

“Ya, I hope so. Harper says I am anyways, which ‘s quite tha compliment. Also, stop callin’ me old. 29 isn’t old,” Harry whines, sticking his bottom lip out at me. 

“Oh stop it, you baby,” I giggle, and soon his joins mine. For a couple of seconds, we’re just looking at each other laughing and things couldn’t be better. But I’ve learned that good things can never last, and soon enough we’re interrupted by a voice. 

“Harry, are you coming?” Rose says from across the hallway, a ‘hello’ to me following. The sweet sound coming from his lips soon fades as he looks over to her and nods. Pushing his sleeve back to look at his watch, he clucks his tongue. 

“‘m afraid I can’ talk any longa, Becks. ‘m sorry. Rose an’ I are workin’ togetha onna case. It starts in half an hour, an’ we gotta go ova sum things befo’ it all starts,” he explains regretfully. I nod, acknowledging his words. And try as I might, I can’t get rid of the disappointment growing heavy in my gut. 

“Yeah o-of course, don’t let me keep you. Good luck, Harry, knock ‘em dead,” I wish him with a small, but sad, smile. 

A hint of one inches up his cheeks before he says, “Yer not keepin’ me, I dunno why ya always say that. I enjoy talkin’ t’ ya. ‘s nice t’ catch up again,” Harry tells me. As if in slow motion, I watch him take another step closer to me with outstretched arms. I follow suit and soon find myself in one of his hugs. “Ya ring me if ya need anythin’, ya hear me? Even just t’ talk. Maybe we could get coffee or tacos sumtime.”

The moment in his arms doesn’t last long enough, although I’m sure any amount of time wouldn’t be enough for me. Soon, I’m leaving the safety of his arms and again, I’m alone. “Of course. Thanks, Harry.”

“Welcome. Tell yer dad an’ Robbie ‘m thinkin’ of ‘em,” Harry rasps, and I just nod. “An’ take care, Becks. Good luck in yer courses, I know ya’ll do well.”

Happiness seeps through the sudden sadness with his kindness, and I muster a smile. And another thank you. 

“Have a good day, love,” is the last thing he says, before he turns to walk towards Rose who waits for him. 

“You too,” I mumble, watching him walk away. 

Bittersweetness lines my thoughts, wondering if the sadness is worth getting to see him. And that hug. God, that fucking hug. They do fix everything that’s wrong, if only for a couple of seconds. It makes me wonder how much happier I’d be if I could have one of those every day, as a respite from the chaos of life. But that would only be in the case of if I was his-. 

Yeah, I’m not going there again, I tell myself. And with that, I finally continue my journey to the post room, unsure of how I’ll be able to top that. 

For the rest of day. 

Week. 

Maybe even, month. 

+

The butter melts on my tongue and next the pillowy bread does too. I close my eyes and smile at the taste. Like home. Opening them again, my eyes flit over the half dozen crock pots and several other plates. Frowning, I can’t stop thinking about the meatballs, the macaroni and cheese, the sugar cookie fruit pizza, and the homemade bread. 

But with a longing sigh, I walk away and leave the break room. Excited coworkers of mine pass me on the way to the food. My desk eyes me from across the room, but I ignore it. Soon, I find myself in the hallway. Twenty minutes left of my break after scarfing down the monthly potluck meal. It only gets better each month, and makes me wish it was weekly. The last bite of airy bread passes my lips. I wipe my hands on the napkin and toss it in a bin. The new storm delivers snow outside of the hallway-long windows. Although they’re frosted from the chill, I can still just make out the falling flakes. 

My thoughts of snow are whisked away by the shuffling of feet. And hurried voices. It takes me a moment to figure out where I’ve gone off too. Soon, I realize I’m back by Courtroom 5. And that the people are bustling inside the doors to sit in the gallery. And watch. The sleeve of my zip up glides over my watch, revealing the time to be one o’clock. Quickly, thoughts come together like puzzle pieces in my head. 

My break is over at 1:30. 

It’s Friday, so it’s not like I really have anything important to do when I get back. 

Sophie has been bothering me for ages to go and learn from the teachers I have just down the hall. 

So she won’t mind. 

And the only teacher that I can think I want to learn from is in there right now. 

About to argue a case that appears to be available to the public. 

I don’t remember telling my feet to move, but suddenly I’m behind an older man. And the scene in front of me changes drastically. It fills me with nervous excitement at the sight of the judicial panel, the jury box, and the witness stand. But I don’t have time to gawk, because the chatter around me is quieting down. I quickly find a seat towards the back of the seating in the gallery. 

Silence follows the clanging of the doors shutting. Within a few seconds, everybody rises when the judge enters. But the rest of the room - the jury made up of all kinds of faces, the bailiff, court reporter etc. - melt away when I see that head of curly hair. I’d know it was him if we were in a crowd of people, but any doubt I had from afar is washed away when he speaks. 

Harry and Rose take turns delivering their opening statement. They’re defending their client, the plaintiff, who from the sounds of it, was harassed by the defendant. It kills me to watch the opening statements unfold, even if all I can see is the back of the girl’s head. The hush over the courtroom is chilling, and goosebumps grow on my arms at the sound of Harry’s tone. His professional voice that I’ve yet to really hear before. Because although I worked for him, I was only his assistant. I never got to tag along to trials, or hear much about them. Yes, I did some of the dirty work for them, but I only saw the outside. I heard about how good or bad it was going, and then was dealt with the good news or bad news of the verdict. No more than that. 

It’s awe inspiring to witness him arguing the case firsthand. The way he uses his hands to speak, or the times when his voice does all the speaking he needs to. His eloquent choice of words drills the emotion home, and is accented by the expression on his face. It’s often neutral, but at times, I watch him struggle to hide the effects of the words playing on his face. I find myself having a hard time doing the same when he returns to sit next to the plaintiff, patting her on the back during difficult moments. Unbeknownst to me, the defending lawyer may have been practicing for two years or twenty. But their skill wanes next to Harry’s, even though he’s been practicing for less than ten years. I can’t stand to watch the discrepancies and weaknesses in his arguments. Luckily, my break is over and I don’t care to waste my time watching Mr. Bow Tie over here. 

I quietly leave a few minutes into his opening statement, hoping one day I can evoke as much emotion as Harry with my words. And hide from my face all of the ones that I’m feeling inside. Walking back to my department, a smile curls the edges of my lips. But then it falls, because I realize the mistake I made. 

I just fell a little bit harder. Again. 

+

“I’m gonna bring the dishes down,” I mumble, watching him nod at me. 

The wooden steps creak with my weight as I juggle the tray of barely touched food. A bowl of chicken noodle soup. A piece of toast. And apple slices with peanut butter. 

Options, options, options. 

The plastic tray hits the counter with a hard slap, and an accentuated huff. I bend down and grab tupperware from the drawers. As I pour the soup into a container, the slam of a door upstairs makes me jump. My thoughts fly to the soup spilled all over the counter, but they stop when I hear another noise. Besides the tv in the living room, it’s the only other one I hear. It pulls my feet out of the kitchen and through the living room until I’m at the stairs. I take the steps two at a time until I’m at the top. The terrible sound carries down the hallway, leading me to the bathroom door. 

I nervously rap my knuckles against the door. 

“I’m fine,” my dad says from the other side, coughing. 

“Dad, they said if it gets bad-.”

“It’s not bad yet,” he interrupts. There’s a pause when he blows his nose. “Please, Ree, I just want to be home. I hate having to go there.”

“I know, dad,” I reply, sighing when I hear him start to vomit again. 

Walking away, I give him privacy. And my ears a break from one of my newest least favorite sounds. My fingers drift to my back pocket, sure of their actions before I am. Exhaling, I take a seat on one of the stairs.  

It rings and it rings. 

“Come on, pick up,” I mutter, bouncing my leg. 

Kneading my temple, I listen to it continue to ring. And ring. Finally, it stops. But I’m not greeted by the sound I want to hear. Instead I hear their voicemail, making me groan. I listen to the old recording I’ve heard time and time again, but this time I just want it to go away. So I can hear the instructions, and that final beep.

“Hey, it’s me. J-just call me back when you get this, please,” I say quickly, the words running from my lips. Alongside the tears. 

Dropping my phone onto my lap face down, my head falls in my hands. Noises surround me. Those of everyday life bustling around me. The sound of the laundry machine whirring downstairs. The hum of the tv. And the ones I try to ignore coming from the door behind me. The sound of the crying. And the vomiting. 

I can’t keep my hands still. They go to rake through my hair. To cover my face. To play with my fingers. To make fists. I even try to sit on them, and it doesn’t help. And I can’t stop bouncing my legs, as my nerves jitter from the thoughts.

 The worries.

The uncertainty. 

It feels like an hour before I hear my twinkling ringtone. But when I see the time on my phone, it’s only been eleven minutes. I barely take the time to look at who’s calling before I answer it. 

Clearing my throat, I say a shaky ‘hello.’

“Hey, I got yer message. ‘m sorry I didn’ answer, I was inna late meetin’, but I can talk now. ‘s everythin’ okay, Becks? Ya don’ sound so good, love,” he inquires. His caramely voice is the first comfort I’ve felt all day. My respite from this mayhem. 

“No, I’’ll um, let you go. I don’t want to interrupt your meeting. I can call later,” I insist, guilt weaving its way into my words. 

“No, yer okay, Becks. I stepped out. It wasn’t anythin’ important, anyways. I can have Myles tell me later. Now, wha’s goin’ on?” he tells me, but it doesn’t revoke all of the guilt consuming me. I grimace at the pain from my chapped lips when they smash together, salty tears flowing over their cracks. “Becks, talk t’ me, please. Yer not a botha, not ever. Please tell me wha’s wrong.”

“Harry,” I begin, not capable of any other words. Because that one has been constant in my head for the last twenty minutes. Ever since it started. It’s the one I’ve been holding in, and not been able to say, until now. 

“‘m here, Becks,” he says. Never did I think three words could be so comforting. And at the same time, hurt so much. Because they’re true, and then they’re not. I want them to be true so badly I feel it in my veins. 

“M-my dad . . . he won’t stop throwing up and I don’t know what to do. He had chemo yesterday, b-but it went fine. And then we had dinner tonight, and he hardly had three bites, before he got sick. It’s been like that all day,” I confess, leaning against the staircase railing. Letting it hold me there, because nobody else can. Because I can’t do it for myself anymore. “This happens sometimes with the chemo, b-but . . . . . it was getting better recently. I think I should bring him in like they said, but that means staying the night in the hospital. Again. I’m just so tired, Harry, I want all of this to be over already. I want him to be okay, and I want to feel what it’s like to be okay again.” I can’t get out another word, because the tears consume them. And the anxiety. And the exhaustion. My head falls to my knees and the hand cupping my mouth slides away. 

“I think ya should bring ‘im in, Becks. ‘Specially if they said so. Don’ want ‘im t’ get dehydrated, that certainly won’ help things,” Harry murmurs, his voice quiet and controlled. “I know ya don’ wanna be there ‘gain, ‘specially twice in tha last two days. But he needs their help . . ‘s there anybody who can come an’ be with you? Maybe that aunt o’ yers who was at tha hospital that night? Robbie, or Skye? But I s’pose they’re 3 hours away in London . . . ,” Harry sighs, his words trailing off into the air. For some reason I nod, glad to hear that my reasoning for not wanting to ask them to come is valid. 

“Yeah, it’s just me here. That’s how it’s been. Robbie and I switch off . . . But my dad doesn’t want me to bring him in, he hates going there. Being poked by them and everything. But he hasn’t been able to keep anything down all day,” I cry, the tears soaking the knees of my ripped jeans. 

“Ya hafta bring ‘im in, Becks. What if ‘s sumthin’ else, like tha stomach flu or sumthin’ worse? He needs t’ be able t’ eat an’ drink in order t’ get betta,” he urges, and finally I decide to listen. 

Nodding at his words and the truth they hold, my lips part, “I know, you’re right. I-I’ll bring him in. T-thanks, Harry, for answering your phone.”

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I sit up slowly. “Course, Becks. ‘m sorry I was a li’l busy when ya first rang . . . Um drive safe, ‘kay? Maybe bring yer laptop t’ do schoolwork or even jus’ t’ watch Netflix. Sumthin’ t’ distract yerself - a book, or headphones fer music.” His suggestions meet my ears, but they go through one and out the other. They’re not the kind of distraction I want, I think selfishly, but the kind I want, I can’t have. Because it’s you. 

“Yeah, I’ll bring something. Thanks, Harry. Have a good night,” I say in almost a whisper, exhaustion stealing my words. 

“Yer welcome, Becks. Lemme know what happens, ‘kay?”

I mutter an ‘mmmmhmm’ before hanging up, and trudging up the stairs. Listening for the sound again is hard, because I don’t know what I want to hear. Part of me doesn’t want to hear the vomiting, but the other part oddly does. Because if it stopped then he’ll try to convince me that we don’t have to go in. But I hope it hasn’t, because there’s something at the back of my head telling me we have to. Making me think we need to, because something’s wrong. And I know that if he’s stopped, he’ll tell me that there’s no reason to go in. 

My gray striped socks stop on the hardwood floor in front of the door. I knock before I can convince myself to wait. “Dad?” 

No answer. 

“Dad, I’m bringing you to the hospital. Something’s not right, I just know it. You need to be looked at, and they can help,” I plead from the other side of the slab of wood. A sigh meets my ears and the shuffling of a body. 

“Okay,” he relents. I push the door open and am met with his tear-stained face. 

Trying to ignore the smell I’m by now used to, I wet a washcloth at the sink. Returning to his side, I bend down and wipe his face with it. And then his mouth. Tossing it in the laundry bin, I wash my hands. Watching him as I do so, his frail figure is slumped against the closed toilet. Embarrassment blanketing him like a sheet. 

“It’ll be okay,” I try to tell him. But as I watch his barely there nod, I’m not sure if I believe it either. “Let’s get you downstairs to the car,” I say, drying my hands. 

It takes us awhile, to stand up together. To get down the stairs, one step at a time. To slip on his coat. To grab my things. And to drive to the hospital as he threw up into a bucket beside me. But we got there, and the worst part still awaits us. 

It pains me to leave his side, but I can’t handle watching them stick him with needles. Or the blood. Not after everything that’s happened in the last 7 months. Combing my hair out of my eyes, I begin my walk down the hallway. Yet another one. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey,” I respond to the voice I could pick out of a crowd. I try to prepare my words, but I’m not sure what to say. I’m so tired. “I’m at the hospital with dad. Everything is okay. But he hasn’t been able to keep anything down all day, he’s been throwing up off and on. And after dinner, it got worse. They’re taking some blood now to run it for labs. I’ll let you know what I hear.”

“Shitttt,” Robbie replies, holding out the last syllable. Just like our dad. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Ree. I’m surprised he let you take him in, but thanks for doing that. Yeah, I guess all you can do is wait until they have the tests back. Hopefully you two can go home soon,” he says quietly in a tone the polar opposite of the one he answered with. 

I echo his words with a ‘me too’ before there’s nothing else to be said. And I let him go. I call Skye too to tell her, and because I can’t go back yet. I just need some time. She talks my ear off, but I’m grateful for it. She tells me about work, her newest boyfriend, the weather, and a show we’re watching together. 

After I finally get away from her jabber mouth, almost half an hour has passed. I find my way back to his room in the Emergency wing. As I walk in, he shoots a tired smile at me. One I can barely make out amongst the dark room. 

“Early bedtime?” I ask, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He nods, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

“Yeah. They did all their tests, and said it would take a little while, so fluids, anti-nausea meds, and naptime it is.”

“Good,” I respond, wrapping my fingers around his. Squeezing them, his dusty lips offer a laugh. Or the closest thing to one. He tries to squeeze back, but I barely feel it. It’s nothing compared to when he’d nearly break my fingers giving my hand a squeeze. Somehow his hands look older than the rest of him as I look. His skin wrinkles among his bulging veins, liver spots, and freckles. 

“You should too, baby girl,” he replies, surprising me. My eyes return to his face where he’s opened his eyes to look at me. “You look exhausted too. Get some sleep, I know it’s been a lot taking care of me for this long.”

“Dad,” I begin, an argument forming in my voice. But I don’t get any further than that.

“You know it’s true, and you’ve been doing a fantastic job. Don’t let yourself think any different,” he insists, the area above his eyes raising. But it doesn’t have the same effect with his dark eyebrows absent from his expression. A whimper escapes my lips as tears obscure my vision. Lifting our joined hands, he brushes the back of his hand over my cheek. “Come here, my baby.”

It confuses me when his clean scent doesn’t surround me. But it’s there in a hint when I bury my face into his neck. His right arm pulls me against him, and I cry into him. It’s one of the only times I can remember doing this since this all started. I want to stay strong in front of him, but sometimes it’s too hard. I feel a warmth on my forehead, and my lips break into a smile at his trademark forehead kiss. “Get some sleep, sweetie. They’ll wake us with the results if they need to,” he tells me. I nod into him, feeling him scooch over for me to lay more comfortably beside him. 

+

My words are taken away with a whooshing sound just as a ding meets my ears. A bubble appears at the top of my phone screen. With widening eyes, I hold down the bottom button for volume on the side of my phone. Peeking across the room, I exhale watching his chest lift and fall with every breath, his snoring greeting the air. My attention returns to the dings coming from my phone. I read the first one. 

Me - a few minutes ago

Tests came back positive for some type of bacterial infection in his digestive tract. Starting antibiotics now. Keeping him overnight and until further notice for observation because infections can be scary with weak immune systems like his.  

Harry

thx for the update. glad 2 hear it isnt anything 2 serious. its a good thing u brought him in when u did becks. thinking of u and him. 

Me

Thanks so much, Harry. I’m glad I did too. Looks like I’m sleeping on the couch again, yay!

Harry

get some zzzz’s love. might be a long nite. dont forget 2 eat. 

Me

Goodnight 

+

My eyes don’t want to believe the clock when the growling of my stomach wakes me. Shuffling into the hallway rubbing my eyes, I swear under my breath. 

“No fucking way it’s only 11 o’clock. Why can’t it be 8 am or something?” I groan, trudging down the quiet halls of the oncology wing. But I’m glad for the quiet compared to the craziness of the E.R. earlier. 

Dropping my hand, I’m welcomed once again by the stinging fluorescent lights. And the packaged foods waiting for me behind the glass. Pulling my wallet from my back pocket, I scan the many choices. Hmmm, salted nut roll for once, hostess cakes, sour patch kids, hard pretzels, jelly beans, or Cheez-Its? I wonder to myself, blinking the sleep from my eyes. 

Another ding meets my ears. But when I lift my phone to my face, there isn’t a new text popping up on my screen. There are some, but they’re from an hour ago or longer. Weird, I think, staring at the screen and reading the words. 

There’s a cough as somebody clears their throat. “We’ve gotta stop meetin’ like dis,” they almost laugh, making me turn my head without a choice. 

[dearlazerbunny]

Lie to Me (Ch. 25 of 27)

(Sorry I couldn’t count my chapterssss)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 2100

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug, who will get 20% royalties each on my first novel that I will never write

Requested Tags: @deraniel, @iamverity,  @yasnooshka24, @wegingerangelica, @themusingsofmany , @dark-night-sky-99, @tarynkauai, @stuffandstuff-stuff, @angelicshinigami, @my-current-fandom-is, @geekysimmerthings,           @lokis-butter-knife, @help-i-need-a-social-life, @vodka-and-some-sass

While being mortal is a fascinating experiment in the short term, Loki would not generally recommend it as a whole.

He feels much more vulnerable, in a way that has nothing to do with him sitting powerless in a cell. Now, his blood is much more easily spilled; his bones more easily broken. It is harder to dull the sudden aches that flare up for no apparent reason at all, and while magic soothes the troubleshooting somewhat, he can’t deny that there’s something.. missing. Nothing tangible or concisely identifiable, but incredibly distracting nonetheless.

His magic is another matter. Frigga has been visiting him for months, on and off, and each time he expects her to begin the process that will ultimately be much more damning to him than mortality. His magic is all he has sometimes, that and his sharp tongue. It is singularly his, and while they may bind his wrists and throw away the key, it will still thrum through his veins with a purr, content to be him and it and it and him.

He expected her to be hesitant, but never to defy Odin altogether. So when she comes to fetch him one day and undoes his manacles with a snap, and green sparks race to heal the raw skin on his wrists, he raises a wary eyebrow at her. “Correct me if I am mistaken, but I believe this is supposed to be gone?”

Frigga graces him with a rare smile that speaks of trouble- if he didn’t know better, he would say his habitual smirk was learned from hers. “You are not mistaken. But what mother would I be to rob my son of his pride and joy?” Her fingers brush an unruly lock of hair from Loki’s forehead. “But, your father will not be denied. At least, not so obviously. Do you trust me?”

“Infinitely.”

“Then stay still.” Her hand to the side of his face, she murmurs an enchantment that washes over his whole body like honey- viscous and stifling. Only her voice keeps him from panicking, and when she’s done, he takes a breath. Frigga hasn’t taken his magic, only… repressed it. It’s a bit like being in hiding. He can still feel his power, only now it remains curled up sluggishly in the deepest parts of his bones. “We both know that the magical arts are not Odin’s strength. This spell should hold for long enough.”

Loki flexes his fingers, his body awash in so many new sensations. “Long enough for what, precisely?”

As it turns out, long enough for the most casual jailbreak Loki has ever been apart of.

Frigga leads him where he never again thought he’d go- out. Up into the castle proper, where the air isn’t stale and the sunlight is filtering through the window. To his amazement, nobody turns their head as they walk side by side through the halls, then the gardens, and out the gates, eventually leaving not only the palace but the whole of Asgard behind, fading into the background.

Crossing the bridge is a strange sort of anxiety. The cracks underneath his feet have long since been mended, but spiderweb fractures remain embedded in his very bones. Old memories fade in and out of existence right in front of him, teasing his brain down paths he doesn’t want to follow- the past holds little more than anger and regret.

Caught up in his thoughts, Loki doesn’t notice when his mother stills. Thor has met them at the edge, and just beyond him Heimdall watches with a stony gaze. Confused, he glances around. “Mother?”

“It has come to Odin’s attention,” she says, “that your remaining on Asgard is a liability to its people.”

Loki arches an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

“And so, he has remedied his previous decree. You are to be banished to Midgard for the remainder of your time as a mortal, and without your magic.”

Time seems to slow. Too many fragile hopes are leaping over themselves for his attention, threatening to topple what little composure he has. “And Odin… agreed to this?”

“It took some doing,” she admits, lips pressed in a thin line. “Your brother and I have not been idle in the previous months.” Thor nods, arms crossed and eyes on the horizon for any unwelcome approachers.

“I-” for once, words fail. What can be said to those who have essentially given you a second chance at life?

Frigga smiles. She can hear what he’s not saying. Carefully, reverently, she presses her palm to his cheek, in a gesture only used by a mother who would do anything for her child. “As I said, my son,” she says softly. “You deserve all the happiness this life may afford you.”

Happiness. Such a foreign concept. Happiness is held in his Witling’s smile, her laugh, the way she looks at him as though she’s never seen a monster in his face-

I want you to come back. Please. If you can.

It turns out he’d lied to you after all.

“Thor will escort you.” A fond thumb is graced against his cheekbone, and then he’s released. “And I trust you will find Y/N and tell her all that you have yet to say.”

Loki wants to argue a million points- how they possibly could have managed to convince Odin to simply let him walk away; how she expects to keep his still-present magic a secret- but his curiosity is tempered by the sheer thought of you. You, in his arms; you, no longer separated from him by glass or pain or stubbornness-

The colors of the Bifrost have never looked brighter as they swirl around his fingertips.

                                                          XXX

He was not particularly expecting a warm welcome from SHIELD- perhaps some cushioned lining around newly-soldered handcuffs- but to his surprise, only the droll man with the eyepatch and Stark are there to greet him when Thor informs them of their arrival on Earth. Infuriating as Stark may be, after so long with nothing but his own company, his glare is almost a welcome change. “So. The prodigal sinner returns.”

“The pleasure is all mine Stark, I assure you.” Loki treats him to one of his smirks, though inwardly he’s already dreading the derision almost certainly headed his way.

“Gentleman, if we could all stand to be civil for more than seven seconds, this will all go a lot smoother.” Fury seems unruffled standing in front of his former most wanted. “Let me get one thing clear- I am not particularly happy about this. Organizations I’ve never even heard of are crawling out of the woodwork to tell me I’m crazy. But,” he sighs heavily, deep lines etched on his face, “as it turns out, we need you.”

Never one to mince words, the director. Loki raises a delicate eyebrow. “Need me for what, exactly?”

“We’ve acquired another magic user in your absence.” Stark snorts, apparently disagreeing with that description, and Fury silences him with a glare. “Well. Some sort of energy. She’s incredibly volatile, moody, and hates Stark with a passion.” There’s a minute shrug under his leather jacket. “Figured the two of you would get along well.”

“Joy,” Stark deadpans. “As if I don’t have enough people who want to blow my brains out. Now you’re going to teach her how to do it more effectively.”

“At least this way, if she murders you, she’ll be doing it on purpose and not by accident,” he replies smoothly, his attention never leaving Loki. “What do you say?”

Loki glances at his brother, and then suppresses an eye roll when Thor gives a classic I dunno, I’m just here to hit stuff gesture. “Well. I suppose I do not have much of a choice.”

“No, you don’t. Glad we could come to an agreement. Thor, if you’ll follow me. We need to make sure thee wont be any… repercussions, from Asgard.” Fury nods once, briefly, before taking his leave. “Welcome to the team.”

Loki’s eyes widen, just a bit. Stranger and stranger this day becomes.

Once they’re alone, the engineer turns back to his project, fiddling with wires exuding faint blue light. “So, where’s your guardian angel? I would have thought she’d be nipping at your heels.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your mini-me. Your not-so-secret-admirer. Your groupie. Your devotee-”

“I would stop there, Stark,” Loki growls.

“Can’t say I’m wrong.” Two wires come together with a spark. “So?”

“I am not sure.”

“Really? So you mean you weren’t the one who told her to rip us all a new one?”

Loki sighs. Mortals and their inane languages. “I assure you, as with most things that fall from your mouth, I haven’t the faintest idea what you speak of.”

“J, play back the recording.” Something warm floods his system at hearing your voice, clearer than its been in a year, even over a recording. Though you sound angry, even more livid than that day in his cell-

“Have none of you, not a single one, ever fucked up because you were hurting? Because it all just became too much?”

“She even made Captain Tightpants sit down, and let me tell you, that’s hard to do.”

This ‘Avengers Initiative’ is one big shot at forgiveness for all of you. Why doesn’t Loki deserve that same chance?”

“What prompted this?” Loki asks, bewildered.

“Oh, the day you left, we took her in because we thought you whammied her brain on that little rescue mission.”

“Loki’s never had a friend, not really. But I’m his friend. And I forgive him. And I gave him the second chance he deserves.”

Oh, love. “I hope you do not expect me to apologize for her.”

“Right.” Stark points a bit of machinery at him without looking in his direction. “Also, if you even think for a second you’re living in my tower-”

“I would not live in that monstrosity if it were shelter from a sandstorm, Stark, fear not.”

I’m here, love. I’m coming. I swear.

A/N: The new Addams family movie is awesome so here’s a celebration chapter. Also only TWO MORE CHAPTERS TO GO PEOPLE well one chapter and an epilogue but whatever technicalities 

[made-in-the-hallway]

Problematic feelings

Word count: 2.083

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Angst and tiny cries.

What’s up fam? I know it has been soooooo long since the last time I published a piece of writing but I felt the need to write wash over me so here I am! This was requested so I got down to fullfill that request! I haven’t proofread that so I am sorry for any typos! Also, I am not very sure of this one but I hope you like it! Feedback is very much appreciated and requests are open too! Without further a due, enjoy! (Picture’s not mine / Masterlist)...

Life had always been somewhat easy for me. That doesn’t mean that it never had its downs as well, but in total, the happy times and the happy memories, outnumbered the bad ones. Someone would assume that I am silly or even insane for thinking like that. But it is the ultimate truth. And I couldn’t be more appreciative of the little but of the big things that came my way as well.

Since I was little, my family was my safe place and they would always be there for me no matter what. It was something that always fascinated me and it was the main reason why I looked up to my parents as well. They were the happiest and the funniest people anyone would ask for to be in their lives. They made it their priority to look after me and make me a rational and most importantly a joyful human being.

As the years were passing by, my parents’ demeanor didn’t change in the slightest bit. Not even my dad’s, even when I brought Harry over to meet him. Harry and I had met at a Uni lesson, Algebra I reckon. We instantly hit it off and we would hang out almost on a daily basis. His presence always placed a smile on my face and warmth in my heart without him even trying. I was amazed at the simplicity of his actions and the importance they carried with them, for they made my day every day.

Harry was too thankful for having me around. At first, he had noticed how closed off I was and he made everything in his power to change that. He would randomly insert a funny comment in our conversation, without it really being relevant. But it did make me more comfortable around him. Then, he would nudge my shoulder when the teacher we both despised would walk into the classroom and I would stifle a laugh because we didn’t want to be expelled.

Anyone watching us would suppose that we were a proper couple. Oh how I wish. I’m not gonna lie. Harry was charming and all but what really made me fall for him so quickly was his personality. I know this sounds cliché as hell, but I can’t state otherwise. Just the way he saw things and his optimism worked like a strong magnet for me, pushing me towards him without stopping. At the time, I knew I was screwed, because I deeply understood that those feelings I had developed for him were one-sided. He never really rubbed it in my face that he hadn’t taken a liking in me, but he never confessed he liked me either.

So things between us were stable; at least for a month or so. There were times when I wouldn’t hear from Harry for almost two weeks. The time we spent apart was tearing me apart and no matter how many texts and voicemails I would leave to his cell phone, they were all sent in vain. The situation changed when he appeared on my doorstep – after 36 days of absence- clarifying that we needed talk. At first, I was scared he wanted to call it quits with me and just leave me be. 

But the complete opposite happened. He confessed that I was on his mind from the very first day his eyes landed on me and that he wanted to risk our friendship in order to become something more. This had to be the best day of life. Just thinking about it, makes me feel all the butterflies I felt at that time. So, we continued being together even after our graduation. My parents were ultimately glad for Harry. I mean, how couldn’t they? He was sweet with their daughter, he would always lend a hand when needed and most importantly, he never took advantage of my parents’ hospitality.

Things changed for the better when he proposed though. It wasn’t anything over the top, but it was over the top for me. The boy I had been fantasizing about since day one was on one knee asking me to be his wife. Maybe that was the best day of my life along with the day we were informed by our doctor that we were expecting twins. We were happily petrified. We wanted kids of course, but we had never done that before. How could we make it? Would we make good parents? How would we be able to afford such a lifestyle? Those were questions voiced to Harry by me, making my uneasiness and fears visible to him.

“As long as we’re together, nothing should make us feel afraid”, Harry had commented and that was all I needed; Harry to be there for me; for us. Ever since, he never left my side. He was there even when he needn’t be. Sometimes, he would exaggerate and be worried for the both of us. Deep down, I knew this was all I needed. A family with the man I always loved and a home to protect this affection from the vicious eyes.

But who knew that this affection would be threatened by the only people I would never suspect? Me and Harry. After the twins were born, difficulties and problems started to arise and they made us isolate ourselves from each other. I hated that. I thought we would never be hit by misery and sadness and that our family would be lovingly bonded till the end of time. Maybe, my life had been way too good to me and now it was time I dealt with its nasty face like everybody else did.

Fights with Harry have become a routine by now. Maybe his busy schedule is taking an ugly toll on him that he can’t control. Maybe I am tired of him throwing tantrums at any given moment. Maybe I don’t want our children to be raised in an unfriendly environment like this. Whatever the reason, Harry and I never bottled up our thoughts and emotions and we always took it out on the other. Just like right now.

Lips pursed, hands fisted, eyes burning and words sharper than knives were a usual sight for him. So it shouldn’t be much of a surprise for me as well.

“Harry please stop shouting! I just put the kids to bed for God’s sake!”

“Oh now I can’t even talk, right? Do I need yehr permission to do tha’ as well?” Harry’s tendency to exaggerate was enough to send me over the edge and forget all about my infidelity and my kids’ napping. 

“That is nonsense and you bloody know it! You never needed my permission to do anything! If you think that asking for my opinion on things, which is absolutely normal for couples and families, is wrong, then this is highly childish of you!”

“So yeh think tha’ I am a child then! How brilliant! I just can’t believe yeh said yes to marry a child!”

“You know I value our marriage and our family more than my own life Harry! What is wrong with you anyways? You always have my word for my loyalty and devotion to this family of ours but you just pay no attention to it!”

“Don’t even think about accusing me of not loving yeh or my children!” Harry’s blood was boiling by now and if there was a minor possibility to control his temper before, now there was none.

“If you loved and cherished me Harry then we wouldn’t be shouting at this time of night. We wouldn’t even be questioning each other’s feelings. But maybe y-“

“Maybe wha’? Maybe I don’t want yeh? Is tha’ wha’ yeh were goin’ to say?” Harry had taken a few steps towards me and my eyes were started to be blurry when a tiny cry from up the stairs had me frozen in place. 

Our older daughter, Emmy, was holding her teddy bear close to her small figure and she wore a disheartened  face that I swear it ripped my heart in two. Without wasting another minute, I rushed to her side and she desperately tried to get a hold of me like I were going to abandon her or disappear into thin air. Harry stood in front of the sofa, with his face buried in his hands and his heart fallen to his guts if not the floor of our home. I couldn’t believe we made our daughter believe her parents didn’t love her anymore or they didn’t love each other.

“Baby it is ok. Shhhh… I promise” I tried my best to soothe her and I felt her cries die down a bit. Instantly, I let out a big breath I didn’t even know I was holding and I absentmindedly started rubbing her back and planting small kisses on her small hands.

“Dadda doesn’t lov- love us anymore momma?” she tried to say but her hiccup got in the way. Just when those words fell from her lips, my face was quick to turn to Harry’s side. I was somewhat relieved to see that our daughter’s words had shaken him up a bit and made him come to his senses. That must mean he still feels something; if not for me, then for our kids at least.

He was quick to come to our side and place us inside of his embrace. Truth be told, I never felt safer in my entire life. Just when his arms tied around us, I felt protected. I felt like this black bubble of shouting and menace couldn’t absorb us. Emmy by the way, had stopped crying and she cherished her dad’s hug by wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and him lifting her up to meet his eyes.

“Don’t ever, ever assume tha’ Dadda doesn’t love yeh… Okay princess?” Harry reassured her and she moved her head. If only things were so easy. I had to remind myself that my conflict with Harry was far from over and we had yet to put an end to this. The only thing stopping me from it is my lack of energy. I was beyond tired and fed up with fighting with him. I just want everything to fall into place once again and stay this way for as long as we both remain married.

“Let’s put yeh to sleep now. Princesses need their precious sleep, don’t they?” Harry joked and Emma chuckled. He had a way to make things right; with his kids. I had made my way to our bedroom by then and I was preparing myself with what was coming. 

Half an hour later, I heard the door of the room cracking, signaling that Harry was in the room as well. No one said a word, letting the awkward silence consume us and leave us longing for a single reassurance; that nothing was lost yet. I found it completely ironic to be met with desperation and a heavy breathing around Harry when in the past he was the one who fought with those demons.

“What happened to us Harry?” I was the first to break the thick ice between us for it needed to be broken.

“Life I guess…” he dully replied and my heart fell to the floor. I needed to steady my mind, or else the burden of this situation would flip me over in a matter of seconds. 

“I am willing to chase life and not let it get in-between. But I can’t if I am alone in this”

“Wha’ do yeh mean Y/N?” he turned to face me and I could have sworn that I saw hope in his eyes. A burning hope to push that restart button together. A burning hope to make it right. Again.

“I mean that I am willing to start it all over. To be happy again. To leave those arguments behind and only look back to them to remind ourselves that we can be better than that. I am willing to give it a try and remind ourselves that our love is here to stay for good. I just need to know one thing Harry” I truthfully said and the look Harry gave me was enough for me to muster up all the courage and hope I had left in me in order to ask him two words. Even though I didn’t have a single clue what his answer would be or where we would be standing after this.

“Are you?”

[yukiwrites]

A Rough Approval

Thank you for commissioning me again, @xpegasusuniverse! This was so much fun to write, I hope you like it ;D

Summary: After the war, Maribelle returns to Themis with her villager husband, Donnel, in tow. Winning her father’s acceptance won’t be easy... or will it?

Commission info HERE and HERE!

Although the Fell Dragon's demise left a bitter taste in everyone's mouths -- Robin's sacrifice was felt in every soldier's heart, after all -- life waited for no one. It was time for the Shepherds to reform; some would go back home, their duties finished alongside the war, while some would stay.

Maribelle, always a friend of the Crown, remained at the castle, by her friend Lissa's side, for a few weeks until she was sure she could go back home to pursue her own goals. Her husband, Donnel, would go back to the Themis land with her, despite the initial thought of wanting to bring HER to his village.

But she wouldn't fit in that backwater place, nuh-huh. Besides, he knew how much she wanted to become a magistrate, and, if she succeeded, the realm would give a great step towards equality. Maribelle was too precious to simply disappear in the middle of the mountains with him.

"Convincing Father will not be an easy task, darling, however I am certain that he will fall for your charms, much like myself." Maribelle commented as they rode a carriage into Themis land. She had sent a bird ahead of herself explaining the situation and expected her Father to unwelcome them.

The villager blushed deeply, gripping at his favorite pot over his legs as his curls dangled freely with the carriage's sway. "Shucks, Maribelle, what'll I do if tha' happens? I can't marry yer dad..." Nervous, he gulped.

Maribelle giggled, placing her soft hand over his rugged one. "It was a jape, darling. Do cheer up, hm? I simply know that you will get into Father's graces sooner or later. He is not the type to turn his back to raw talent, after all."

Suddenly, Donnel shot up his head. "Ya know what? Bring it on! I can't say tha' I'm gonna surprise 'im with anythin' I know, but my love for ya won't lose to anyone!" He puffed his chest with pride, loudly putting his pot back over his head.

Maribelle placed one hand over her increasingly warm cheek, flattered. "Why, Donny, what a bold declaration of love." She chuckled as he deflated in embarrassment, the pot sliding down to cover his eyes.

"T-that's- the truth, though..." He mumbled, holding her delicate hand with both of his.

The noblewoman placed her free hand over his arm, nudging it slightly. "I do so love you as well, my strong warrior." She said softly before quickly straightening her back even further. "Now! Let us leave this bubbly atmosphere and go back to revising the topics Father is most likely to ask you about! And do take this pot off, darling. I'll have someone brush your hair for you later."

"M-my pot... " He whimpered, but obeyed. "I'm not sure I can learn errything, but I sure as heck'll try!"

"That's my Donny." Maribelle hummed, taking out a thick book from the pile at the seat in front of them. "Now, I want you to recite something from this page..."

Soon they reached the outer gates from the Themis Residence, swiftly being let through the large and intricate garden. Lord Themis himself waited for them at the foot of the front staircase, his arms crossed and his nose lifted up.

He had heard from his daughter's so-called 'marriage' (surely a jest!) while the war still raged. He received a simple letter from a random priest congratulating him for the marriage of his daughter, followed by a message from Maribelle herself. She had told him that she couldn't wait to introduce this 'Donnel' person to him (was that even a name? Gods, what has his daughter done?!) and that he was the person she not only loved but wished to spend her whole life with.

Of course, Themis wasn't a terrible person. He would let his daughter marry the man she loved, of course, as long as he was worthy of her! He had made a thorough background check on that 'Donnel' person. And, of course, no nobles had such base name. No duke, no viscount, no third cousin once removed from a faraway bloodline connecting to a baron had such name. He'd asked his people to look for any 'Donnel's in the Shepherds, but surely no matches were found. It was a big army, after all.

Which only made his heart freeze more.

Did Maribelle marry a commoner? Only one would fade so much into the background it would be impossible to factually check his background. Was that the reason the beautiful handwriting of the priest who sent the letter was written over a Shepherds stamped paper? Did they marry inside the Shepherds garrison?

A commoner... How could his daughter, the most well-mannered, delicate, competent, fierce and noble person he knew marry a commoner, of all people?

The more he thought about it, the deeper was his frown. He watched as the carriage made its way to him and stopped a few meters away. The coachman hurriedly jumped out of his seat to open the door, almost feeling Lord Themis' animosity.

"As I taught you, Donny," Maribelle's voice could be faintly heard from inside, making Lord Themis' heart skip a beat. His darling daughter! "Men exit first, then give their arms to the woman."

"A-aight," a foreign and deeply accented voice left the carriage, and soon it could be attached to a face: A curly-haired, plain-looking and oddly well-dressed young man jumped out, his nervous expression turning soft as he gave his arm so Maribelle could also get off.

What a terrible mismatch!

"What is the meaning of this, Maribelle? You finally come back home after years of war and you bring... this..." he looked at Donnel in disgust, "in tow?"

"Father, where are your manners?" Maribelle lifted her chin, giving a dismissive wave of hand to the coachman so he could leave. "Are you truly so eager to embarrass yourself that you'll make a scene in front of the servants?"

"Do not talk back to me, young lady." He pointed to her, ignoring Donnel's existence completely. "Come with me." He turned on his heel to the staircase.

"Father? This is my husband, Donnel. I'm sure you are flattered to meet him." She narrowed her eyes, her father's reaction much worse than she thought.

Flustered, Donnel bowed. "It's, uh, a pleasure to meet ya, Sir! My name's Donnel an' it would be mighty kind if ya could bless our union!"

"Donnel, hush! This is not something to say while we're out in the open." Maribelle scolded, though her cheeks were under a shade of pink. Such boldness, this man she married had. "Come now, let us follow Father." She nudged on his arm, never letting go of it after exiting the carriage.

"O-oh, right!" He stumbled, not wanting to embarrass his wife. Lord Themis went on ahead without listening to Donnel's introduction.

The noblewoman didn't have the time to greet the servants after her long absence, but she made a mental note to do so after the talk with her father. They were led to a nearby study, into which tea already waited for them.

Or rather, for her. No cups were placed for Donnel.

Lord Themis faced the large window, right behind the desk. "I will not accept this union, Maribelle. Surely you already knew this would happen."

Maribelle did not sit down, not wanting to entertain the silent bullying his father had prepared for Donnel. "I do understand, Father. Believe me when I say that I truly did not expect to fall in love with a commoner of all people. A villager from so tiny a village it does not even have a name!" She placed a few of her golden curls behind her shoulder. "However, whatever assumption you have made of him is wrong, Father. He is not a simple villager, he-"

"He's the man you love, is that what you're going to tell me?" Lord Themis cut her off, turning back to face them as he looked down with almost disgust.

Maribelle narrowed her eyes, placing one hand over her hip. "Why, Father, I expected you of all people to allow others to finish saying their piece without interruption. Nevertheless, that was not what I was going to say -- Donnel is a truly gifted young man. He will not lose to whatever marriage partners you had in mind for me." She stomped her foot, then bobbed her head to the sides, remembering a small detail about her husband. "Of course, apart from owning lands and servants; but we ourselves need not benefit from such things since our land is productive by itself."

Lord Themis didn't want to marry his daughter off to someone wealthy just to increase their own wealth later on; no. He's always wanted her to marry someone of her choice, with a decent background, that would be able to lead their land once he was gone.

Surely a commoner who needed litters of lotion to cover up the smell of pig and earth coming from him would never be able to do such a feat. "You do realize that, besides supposedly marrying behind my back, you are suggesting that a villager can manage our finances." He exhaled deeply, the cold rage he felt making his fingers tremble.

"Um, I'm sorry for buttin' in, sir, but we did errything legit, that we did! We had a priest bless our union an' all!" Donnel gripped at his uncomfortable vest, missing the pot on his head to mess with.

Lord Themis grimaced at every single grammar murder the young man did, sighing so deeply he had to place both hands over the desk so as not to deflate completely. "Nothing that I cannot cover up-"

"Father! You are not proposing breaking the law simply to fit your own preconceived whims, are you?! Saved from the court's wrath you were once due to false accusations, I will not hesitate to send you back there if you truly try to bend the laws!"

Surprised and, most of all, hurt, Lord Themis lifted his disgruntled gaze to his daughter. "Threatening your own father now, are you, Maribelle? Is this whelp truly worth breaking our family apart?"

"Listen to yourself, Father!" Maribelle gesticulated, feeling increasingly upset. "You are letting your own prejudiced ideals speak before you think! Have you lost all faith in your daughter after these years of war? I told you he is a gifted man that will not bring shame to our name."

Donnel looked from father to daughter as though watching a ball game the whole time. He gulped, his chest being filled with confidence with each word his wife uttered. "I'll prove 'ta ya, Your Lordyfulness, Sir! I still have a lot ta learn, but I'm a good student, I am! Shucks, Teach Miriel gave me full marks in ev'ry subject an' said she ain't got nothin' more ta teach me so I could teach erryone back at my village!"

Used to his way of speaking, Maribelle simply nodded in accordance. "He has a terrifyingly good memory, Father. He's memorized the entire Law Code in only two weeks!" She hummed proudly, "he also has great reflexes and a keen eye for spotting AND solving trouble."

His own personal rage apart, Lord Themis knew he only needed a competent son-in-law to pass the dukedom to. But he was most of all baffled that his daughter let a childish love blind her from reality. There was absolutely no way that that unwashed whelp was fit for her and their land.

Lord Themis couldn't fathom that. "Very well, I shall play along." He crossed his arms, intent on never approving of that boy. "If you pass the tests I give you, I shall bless your union."

"R-really? Yeeehaw!" Donnel hopped, bright-eyed. He hugged his wife by reflex, but Lord Themis' animosity quickly brought him back to his senses, making him let go of her altogether.

"You will not regret this decision, Father." Maribelle gave a soft smile with an approving nod, her hand lingering by Donnel's chest. "Throw whatever you have at us and you shall not be disappointed."

Themis raised one eyebrow at the 'us', but let it slide as he once again put both hands behind his back. "A noble must, above all, have grace, poise and an imposing aura." He scrutinized Donnel with a judging eye, "clearly you lack these on your own feet, however will that change over a horse? It is demanded of a Lord to know how to ride."

Donnel's shoulders sagged visibly, and he had to gulp down a scoff lest he sounded condescending. "Horses? Shucks, ain't that test too easy? I been 'round 'em my whole life."

Lord Themis smirked, making Maribelle finally understand where he was going. He didn't mean-?!

"Clearly you've never met Bucephalus."

Immediately did the villager blush deeply. "Buceph-" He stuttered, then leaned over to Maribelle, shocked. "I-is it a common noble thang ta name yer horses after... this... kinda stuff...?" He coughed, making Maribelle immediately redden in return.

She smacked him with her parasol. "Donnel! Clearly this is not what the name means!" She cleared her throat.

"Owow-" he covered his head with both hands, "there's 'nother meanin' for it? Shucks, but I can't unhear it now."

Exhaling deeply, Themis ignored the childish display and rang a small bell to call for the butler. He then had the servant arrange for their most untamed, ferocious and unruly horse to be brought to the equestrian facility, saddled, if possible, though not exactly necessary. Only one in fifty tries succeeded in saddling that beast, after all.

Maribelle frowned the entire way as they went to the training grounds, not exactly fearing for her husband, but still apprehensive. Meanwhile, Lord Themis had a wide smirk on his face, expecting the boy to run away with his tail behind his legs after being placed face to face with that horse-shaped demon.

"Yeeehaw! Tha's a great breeze from up 'ere!"

Blinking, Lord Themis had to rub his eyes more than once to truly believe in what he was seeing: Not only did Donnel tame that demonic horse, he went through all obstacles with the utmost ease.

"I am seeing things." He mumbled. "It hasn't been two minutes yet."

Maribelle laughed loudly, "excuse me," she apologized, hiding under her open fan. "A diamond in the rough, my lord Father. A diamond in the rough." She said proudly, waving at Donnel as he galloped closer.

"This big boy 'ere's so easy ta control! My old mule could learn a thing or two from 'im."

Flabbergasted, but not about to let that show in his expression, Lord Themis cleared his throat and turned his back to them, adjusting his cravat. "A noble is not only grace, but brains as well. Join me for a game of chess, young man."

Donnel beamed, taking that as a compliment. "Ya see that, Maribelle?! I did it!"

"I never once doubted you would, darling." She hummed, welcoming him as he jumped off of the horse. "Let us go quickly before he forgets what he saw, hmm?"

Not understanding the depth of his feat, Donnel tilted his head to the side, enjoying how Maribelle wrapped her arm against his so he could lead her back to the mansion.

Once there, at the same study they were an hour previous, Donnel placed one fist over his open palm, as though finally realizing something. "Ohh, so this game's name's chess!"

Maribelle felt dread inside her chest. "D-darling, truly we went through this before? Did we not?" She placed squeezed his arm.

With an easygoing smile, Donnel sat at Lord Themis' opposing chair, humming a song or another. "Ya played with me once or twice, methinks... But I played it more with that old fox Robin!"

"Truly? I did not page Robin as an admirer of such a game." Maribelle sat on the nearest fainting couch so as to watch the match.

"He was hard as balls ta beat! I only won a coupla times." He commented absent-mindedly as he thought up the moves.

Humph, Themis scoffed mentally. I am not about to lose to a random villager with no experience in such a fine art-

"How can this be?!" He slammed both hands on the board, shaking the pieces without knocking them over. "I cannot possibly have lost to-"

"Why, Father, you were soundly beat!" Maribelle sounded as surprised as he did, getting up to squeeze her husband's shoulder. "I thought you said you only won a few times, darling?"

"Muh?" Donnel turned to his wife. "Robin was a lot tougher ta beat, though. An' his game was a tad different, too..." He said without thinking, then quickly slapped his mouth with wide eyes. "I-uh, didn't mean no disrespect, sir, uh..."

Lord Themis felt life ebbing away from the tip of his fingers. He lost? To a villager?

Unacceptable.

He still had one last card to play. That whelp would not be able to hold up to that!

"Lastly but no less important; a noble needs to manage his lands appropriately." He tried to compose himself as much as he could, but Maribelle's sneering gaze pierced holes on him as he got up. "I will now show you classified documents that only the lord of the land has access to."

"Classy documents-" Donnel started, but Maribelle elbowed him on the ribs.

"Secret, Donnel. Secret documents." She whispered gravely, not wanting her father to lose any respect Donnel might've earned.

"Owow, aight." He massaged the afflicted area, following Lord Themis to behind his desk.

"I have received these today," Themis whammed a pile of documents over the table. "They are reports from our border villages which include how much shipment we've bought or sold for them as well as the amount of taxes we are receiving from them -- or if there are any overdues. I want you to go over them and give me a solution to a problem that's clearly stated there." He lifted his chin, "I, of course, already went through them and know the answer. Do the same now."

"Father, without proper training, there is no way for a person to manage something as large as our lands in such short notice-" Maribelle walked over to the desk, gripping at her father's sleeve.

Deep in concentration, Donnel took the first paper and tilted his head to the side. "Basically ya wanna me ta fix the problem in 'ere, right?" He scratched his head.

Lord Themis smirked. "Yes, I suppose."

"Aight!" Donnel stuck out his tongue as he usually did when focused, rolling up his sleeves. "Can I sit 'ere, sir? It's a mighty fine chair so I can take these ta read on the floor-"

"You may," Themis did a dismissive wave of hand, turning his back to the young man. "Enjoy it while you can."

"Father!" Maribelle complained. "You are not being reasonable."

"S'okay, Maribelle. Compared to Teach Miriel's classes, this ain't gonna be hard." Donnel scratched the back of his head, crossing both legs over the chair, deep in thought.

"It is still unacceptable." Maribelle turned on her heel to be beside her husband. "He is being stubborn and childish simply because you've shown promise."

"Ah, I found it!" He said suddenly, raising one document up.

"Preposterous. It took me half a day to-- ahem. Do show me, boy."

"I heard 'bout this village 'ere, see? It's real close ta the border and it sells cheap wood for building. An' just cause it's cheap it don't mean it's bad, nuh-huh! Ya can save a lot of money if ya stop buyin' from this old pitch'a wood 'ere and buy from this 'ere village instead! I betcha there're lotsa muscle there to be hired too, so ya'll be makin' more jobs an' having the folks that're missin' the taxes pay 'em on time!"

Midway to Donnel's speech, Lord Themis took his handkerchief out so as to dry the cold sweat dripping down his forehead. That crude boy found a better solution to his own?! "W-who ARE you, boy? Certainly misplaced by birth or-"

"Why, Father, have I not told you? He is a diamond in the rough -- and perhaps, not to rough anymore, hmm?"

"Weh?" Not realizing he had passed every test, Donnel was still focused on the matter of the late taxes. "I was born way at the bonkers, sir, so maybe I was misplaced after all? Hehe!" He smiled brightly, making Themis lower his head.

"I give up." He said finally, feeling his blood pressure shoot up. "I give my blessings or whatever you both want." He whispered. "I... can't wait... to have you in our family... Donnel." Every word a chose to say, Themis didn't look the young man in the eye as he struggled to accept that Donnel was indeed everything Maribelle had paged him for and more.

Curse and bless him at the same time!

"Oh, Father, I knew you would come to!" Maribelle smiled brightly.

"T-that means I passed? B-but I barely did anything, sir!"

"Humble as always, darling. However, a win is a win, so do not undermine your efforts, hmm? Now come here and give me a hug as the newest heir of the Themis house!"

Lord Themis groaned, turning his face away from the scene. "We still need to polish him more." He grumbled, though feeling somewhat lighter than ever. His daughter never smiled like that in his presence, nor did she defend someone so vehemently.

Her happiness was still the first and foremost thing in his mind, after all. He would come to accept her poor choice in husband with time. Time, effort and a lot of getting used to his strange accent.

[nadineselfships-archived]

Activate My Heart

Self insert Songfic ft. Android Jesus

Pairing/s: Markus x Android!Nadine, Circuit Sparks n' Paint Splatters

A/N: Song is activate my heart by natalia kills!! An oldie but 100% relevant now thanks to my Android!Nadine AU!! Alternate AU from that one attached to the doods of Android!Nadine, this ones a bit more angsty whoops~ Also this is the best thing I've ever written, this will be my magnum opus, anything after this will never compare and I will never be satisfied with a peice OC writing ever again-

T/W/s: Mentions of thirium(android blood), Mentions of attempted self destruct(suicide), Mentions of abandonment, also they’re sitting on a ledge of a really tall building and while it doesn't go into detail they are very high up so yeah,, is that a trigger i’m not ure anyway-

The night was cold and dark, snow falling gently from the sky above and landing on the city streets below silently; Nadine sat on a ledge attached to one of the many tall buildings watching humans and androids bustle around the streets in a hurry to get home. Her brows were furrowed as her eyes gazed upon couples less hastily walking through the streets, a strange feeling ripping through her chest and causing tears to brim her eyes. But she couldn't quite figure out why or what she was feeling, she'd never felt it before. 

I've been played around

Love has let me down

Tore my feelings out

Her gaze traveled to her lone hand gripping the ledge with unnecessary force as her other hand raised to grasp the thick material of her coat covering where her thirium pump was hiding underneath, her LED flashed to a vibrant yellow. Glimpses of a human flashed behind her eyes, glimpses of being held and feelings of happiness and love filled her and she closed her eyes in attempts to hold onto them. But as soon as they came they were gone as being held turned to being thrown away and feelings of happiness and love turned to sadness and hurt; her throat tightened and so did the grip on her coat and the ledge.

I refuse to hurt

I refuse to cry

Not another time

Nadine let out a shaky breath as tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she wouldn't let them; her LED now a dangerous red. Her stress levels were high, she could feel her thirium pump begin to pump erratically. The memories flooded her no matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay but even so she tried to keep her composure; even so she tried to ignore the negative feelings eating her away inside.

She was frustrated and confused, she was hurt and angry. So many emotions she never would have thought she could feel only months ago. Everything had been so perfect when she was just a machine fulfilling it's purpose, being a companion to a lonely artist and complying to all his wishes and needs but everything seemed to fall apart when she started to feel. Started to care, started to love, started to deviate. 

I know i need to be rewired

I want to love again

Don't think my heart Is just a hardrive

I'm just malfunctioning 

At first she dismissed it as a malfunction in her program, as a companion android it was expected to be close to it's owner. Falling in love with them however, was never a possibility; except it was. Nadine had fallen in love with the charming artist against all odds, her programming to tend to his needs being done out of a want to make him happy instead of orders to do as she was told.

It was fine at first, she just played the part of faithful android companion like always and he seemed happy with her, for a moment she tricked herself into believing he loved her too. But as she sat on the ledge on this cold winter night she knew that had never been true; he had used her like the machine she was and when he was done with her he told her so bluntly he was getting rid of her in exchange for a newer model.

Her biggest mistake was questioning it, falling to his feet and asking why he didn't love her; what she was doing wrong, how she could be better for him. The look on his face as she wept and showed such emotion was enough to make her want to self destruct, the words he spoke sending her even closer to that edge.

"Love an android? You're just a machine my dear, no one could ever love you."

She remembered sitting up all night, going through her program and trying to find the malfunction; trying to find a way to stop the feelings engulfing her being. She remembered being filled with an awful feeling, flashes of her own hands stained with the thirium from her body and her own thirium pump being held in her shaky hands. She remembered feeling so much regret and fear, fumbling to put it back in it's place as her vision became dark.

Nadine held back a choked sob as memories of waking up in that graveyard of a dump resurfaced, the feeling of the rain pelting against her skin and the mud on her back sending a shiver down her spine. At this point Nadine wrapped her arms around herself and lifted her legs so she could bury her face in her knees; the memories and tha pain was all too much for her to bear and she almost wished she could go back to being an emotionless machine.

Almost.

Show me how to love

Show me where to start

Activate my heart

Cuz it don't work anymore

"Nadine? I was wondering where you were, I've been looking for you, are you alright?" The familiar comforting voice of Markus danced through her ears and she felt her tense body relax a small bit; her LED returning to a shade of blue. She couldn't find the strength to raise her head or unfurl herself from her position and she sighed.

"Yes I'm... I'm okay, I'm sorry if I worried you." She mumbled, realizing he would have probably gotten worried about her sudden unexplained absence. She did mean to tell someone where she was going but as she was walking through jericho she had been suddenly overwhelmed by the crowds of androids about her and had ran out without a word. While she was recounting her exit from jericho an hour earlier Markus made his way towards her and drew her attention as he sat beside her facing the opposite direction.

Shifting her head so she could peek out from beneath her arm she was met with Markus' concerned gaze.

"You've been crying." He observed and she immediately hid her face once again, cursing her tearducts for betraying her.

"It's okay to cry Nadine, it's normal." Markus's voice cut through her self berating and a jolt was sent through her senses as his warm hand was placed comfortingly on her shoulder.

"I know." She replied in a small voice and Markus could feel his concern grow. He removed his hand from her shoulder and turned back to the roof, his elbows resting on his knees as he took in the view of the sky. Nadine had a habit of disappearing while seemingly upset and reappearing acting as if everything was normal and she was absolutely fine when Markus could tell she most definitely was not. He had tried so many times already to get her to open up and tell him what had her so troubled but she would always brush him off or change the subject. It was frustrating but Markus wasn't known for giving up easily.

"So, what are you doing up here?" He asked, trying to sound more casual in attempts to help her calm down and be more willing to talk.

"Thinking." She responded shortly, trying to subtly wipe the tears from her cheeks which was quite awkward in her current position.

"About?" Markus inquired, hoping she would be willing to tell him. A small sigh escaped Nadines mouth and Markus was worried he had upset her with his, albeit light, prodding. He watched as she unfurled herself and leant her forearms against her knees; her dark brown eyes stared out at the city with an empty look in them. It hurt Markus to see such an expression on her face and it hurt knowing it wasn't one of rarity.

"Why are you always so worried about me Markus? Why do you always want to know about what I'm feeling?" Nadine turned to meet Markus' heterochromia eyes with a sad gaze, Markus felt his chest twist strangely as she looked at him with such an expression; he wanted nothing more than to hold her and make that sad look dissapear.

"Because, I care about you. I want to know how you're feeling because you're important to me and how you feel is important." Markus explained, brows furrowed as he tried to correctly articulate the reason behind his insistent actions. Although even after he said it he felt that he still was not using quite the correct words, something inside him knew it was something much deeper; something he had not felt until Nadine.

Show me how to love

Show me where to touch

Teach me how to smile

"But why?" Nadines expression became stressed and her upper body turned to face Markus, her right arm moving to support her as she looked at Markus desperately.

"Why do you care about me Markus? I'm just a rusty old NR250, I've been less then accommodating and I've done nothing but push you and everyone at Jericho as far away as possible! What have I done to be worth caring about?" Nadine's words came out rushed and stressed, the last sentence coming out breathy and weak. Markus' felt his hand twitch, feeling the urge to cup her face and wipe away the fresh tears beginning to stain her cheeks.

"You don't need to do anything to be worth caring about Nadine, everyones deserves to be cared for and you're not 'just a rusty old NR250', you are so much more than that." Markus' eyes softened as Nadines expression only twisted more with his words, her body tense as she tried to refrain from breaking down in front of her leader. Markus hesitantly reached forward and placed his hand over hers, watching her reaction carefully and noting how she was shaking ever so slightly.

"It's okay to need time, to heal and to become comfortable around others, to trust others. So many of us are struggling because of things from our past and it's okay to need that time, you're not alone in your fight Nadine; i'm- we, are all here with you." Markus spoke softly yet firmly, catching himself at the last minute and hoping his minor slip wasn't too obvious.

I can learn to kiss

I feel happiness

I can be the one

Nadine was silent, seemingly having an internal battle as she stared at Markus' hand on hers. She knew his words made sense, they were logical but at the moment the last thing on her mind was logic and reason; her LED had returned to red and her left hand had come up to grasp at her coat once again.

"I... I just feel so... Lost, I don't know what to do Markus. I don't know how to stop feeling like this. I'm scared I'll never stop feeling this way." Nadine couldn't keep the words from tumbling out her mouth, after so much restraint and a fight to keep it all in it was all slowly seeping out of every pore of her synthetic skin. Markus adjusted his position so his body was facing hers and he gently took both of her hands in his, he wanted so desperately to understand what exactly she was feeling; to be able to lift some of that burden from her shoulders.

"I was lost for a long time, I sometimes felt as if that feeling would never go away; I would be stuck questioning everything and never really knowing if what I was doing was right. But after some time I don't think I'm lost anymore, I've found my home, I've freed my people, I've found my family," as he said that his grip on Nadines hands tightened and he held her gaze intently, "you will not be lost forever Nadine. All that fear will dissapear and everything will become clear to you, you'll find what you didn't know you were looking for and everything will click into place and I promise to be by your side until that happens and long after." Markus spoke with certainty to his tone and sincerity in his eyes, trying to fully convey the feelings behind his words and show he meant them with how tightly he held her hands in his. 

I came equipped with all the same parts

I'm not just megabites

So hold me hold close while I push restart

So I can love you right

Nadine felt all her defenses breaking down and she felt her body involuntarily lean forward, the awkward angle making her sway on the ledge and Markus was quick to pull her towards him; his arms encircling her waist and pulling her onto his lap. It was then, with her head buried in Markus' shoulder and hands clinging to his jacket and shirt did she let out a broken sob, her shoulders shaking and all her pent up feelings came pouring out with her tears. The broken cries coming from her made Markus' thirium pump ache, his arms tightening the embrace as he leant his head against hers.

He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he had never seen someone just fall apart in front of him or the fact that it was Nadine that had fallen apart in front of him but he was feeling so useless, he had wanted to comfort her and he couldn't tell if he was doing so or just making it worse. He could make speeches and reassure friends but this somehow felt so different, with Nadine sobbing in his arms he felt so weak when he was usually trying to be so strong. He found himself whispering soft words of comfort as she wept into his shoulder, staining his jacket with her tears; his hand rubbing soothing circles into her back and he tried his best to keep himself together.

It felt like an eternity passed, Nadines broken cries becoming soft whimpers and sniffling; her grip on his clothing had loosened while his grip on hers stayed tight as if he was scared she would slip away as soon as he let go. Silence hung in the air as Nadine leant her forehead against Markus' shoulder, she couldn't define whether she felt better or worse; her throat was sore and her head pounded in protest to the strain.

She tried to gather her thoughts so she could speak again and not relapse into an onslaught of tears and emotional rambling, her lips were swollen and her cheeks were puffy; such a human reaction for such a machine.

"I'm sorry." Nadine croaked quietly, her voice still recovering from the violent sobs and cries previously ripping out of her throat. Markus felt his grip tighten and his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Sorry for what?" He asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"For everything. From the first day I met you, you were nothing but kind and understanding and i... I just, fought you, I fought your kindness, I fought your want to care for me. I can't let go of my past and you've been fighting so hard for my future, for my present. I truly thought I didn't deserve to have one, I'm still not sure i do but... I want to. I want to look forward to my future and let go of my past, I just don't know how to yet." Nadine spoke slowly, trying to articulate her thoughts as clearly as possible, trying to articulate her feelings. Markus took in every word, letting them sink in and processing what she said carefully.

Show me how to love

Show me where to start

Activate my heart

Cuz it don't work anymore

Markus leant back and Nadine copied his actions, meeting his intense gaze wary of what he would say; this was the first time she had been this open about her feelings and it was quite the terrifying experience.

"I don't blame you for wanting to protect yourself, something in your past made you wary of trusting others and I know it wasn't personal. It will be hard letting go of what's happened in the past, it always is, but while it will be a slow journey it won't be a lonely one. I understand if it takes time for you to open up to the others like you have with me but know I'll be here for you and I want to help in whatever way I can, even if that is just listening and being a shoulder to cry on." Markus removed one of his hands that were resting on Nadines waist and took hold of one of her hands that had been resting on his chest.

Nadine stared at their hands once again and for a moment she swore her thirium pump had skipped a beat. Nadine glanced back up at Markus' warm and comforting gaze and her LED slowly regained it's light blue colour, feeling his words spread through her and actually believing them. Even if it was going to take a while to learn how to trust again, to be comfortable and open with people, Markus was going to be there for her and as the two sat above the city of detroit on this snow covered ledge Nadine felt safe for the first time in a long time.

"Thank you, Markus," Nadine whispered, closing her eyes and focusing on the cold nipping at her exposed skin, "for everything." Markus watched Nadines content expression with a warm feeling blooming in his chest, he was happy he was able to reduce some of her worries even if it was only for this short moment.

No more words were said and the two stayed on the ledge for quite some time, Nadine enjoying the feeling of not being so alone in her fight anymore and Markus enjoying the feeling of being closer to Nadine then he ever had been before.

Show me how to love

Show me where start

Activate my heart

Cuz it don't work anymore

[sagara-megumi]

SasuSaku Month - Day 7: Love You Goodbye || [Fanfic] The Meaning of Loyalty

Title: The Meaning of Loyalty

Rating: K/G

Notes: I apologise for the delay. I wasn’t feeling well last night, so I decided not to write and go to bed early. Now I’m even more behind on the prompts! ┐(;Ծ⌓Ծ;)┌

Also, I want to thank you for the notes and messages you’re leaving me, I’m really glad that you’re enjoying the story so far. I hope you like this one as well :)

‘...’ normal thoughts

‘...‘ Inner Sakura

Words: 2921

.

THE MEANING OF LOYALTY

The 'big mess', as Sasuke had called it, opened the news and the newspapers first pages two days later.

One of the most important directors of the Uchiha Corporation, the Chairman's little brother had been embezzling money from some of the companies, including the main one, for years and had run away with it, leaving an important shortfall in their economic power.

Even though she did not understand much about those types of business, she had watched some financial programmes on different channels on television to try to get a good grasp of the situation. She had been astonished when the guest experts agreed that, even though the estimated defraud figure had not emerged, the crime could end up in the collapse of the Corporation.

Her first impulse was to grab her phone and call him, but she could stop herself on time. The last thing he needed at that moment was a distraction, even if it was to tell her he was busy. So, she chose to send him a brief text.

If I can do anything...

The same one was sent to Ino, because she had to be suffering just as much, and if her friend needed to vent to anyone, she would be more than ready to listen.

She spent most of the day working on her reports and studies, but it was inevitable that once in a while, her eyes flew to the window near her desk, wondering how the events were truly unfolding.

He never replied to her message, but Ino did at about three in the morning, saying that even though she could not say anything because they had given the employees stern orders regarding confidentiality and that she was too busy to even go home and rest, she was thankful for Sakura to spare a thought for her.

.

Three days later, the scandal was still raging on, and she had become much more restless. Everybody talked, made assumptions and gave opinions, some of them negatives as they wondered why the Uchiha had not made an official statement.

She turned off the television in her bedroom, feeling upset.

'Maybe because they're too busy working and saving their business, you idiots. If everything could be solved with a statement, they would have made twenty by now.'

She huffed and fell back on the bed. It was frustrating not knowing what to do, if she could do anything at all to support him. Not that she could help him with his work, she had difficulties understanding all the financial language they used on the television even though she had taken notes and read about the topic. But at least, she wished she could let him know that even though she was far from him, she was thinking of him, that her voice and her warmth could comfort him in the same way as his had done to her. But she still did not dare to call him. Stealing even just one second of his attention from the matter he had on his hands seemed like a crime and moreover, she knew that her concern would be unwelcome.

Once again, she took her smartphone and, opening her mail, she typed those five words she had been telling him every day. She watched her screen as the text that said that the message had been sent blinked and then, disappeared. It was the only way she could let him know.

She turned and opened the drawer of her bedside table, taking out his photo. She already knew it by heart, if she closed her eyes she could picture every single little detail of his clothes and his appearance. Stretching her arms up, she opened it and Sasuke's dark eyes stared at her.

“Idiot...” she murmured softly in a dejected tone. “At least you could send me an emoticon. You can do it at the same time as you eat... Because you're eating, right?”

'Can't I really do anything for you? Am I so useless?'

'Am I going to be a trophy wife even for you if we end up getting married...?'

She traced the contour of his cheek and the line of his jaw with a finger.

“I want to share everything with my husband, I want to be there for him when he's happy and when he's at his worst. To work with him to build a life together and lean on each other for support when it's too much...”

'Like in the hospital... when I realised that you were much more than I expected.'

Her heart sank and she lowered her arm, covering her eyes, letting the other fall softly on the bed. It hurt to miss him, to miss his calls in the evening and the warmth she felt each time she heard his voice. And it hurt even more that probably, he was not giving her a thought.

'Stupid. He has a company to save. Of course he won't be thinking of you...'

She frowned and uncovered her eyes, staring at the ceiling.

How could she be so selfish?

She sat on the bed suddenly, angry at herself. He was fighting for something that meant his life, his family's and those of thousands of people who worked for the Uchiha and there she was, depressed and thinking like a teenager in love tha-

'Huh?'

The thought caught her off guard and she had to go retrace her thoughts to see where that had come from. Love? Who had said anything about love in that matter? She could not be in love with him, they barely knew each other and they-

'Who cares about that! Any woman with eyes on her face would fancy that man!'

She sighed in relief.

Yes, that was it. She was a bit infatuated with him. He was handsome, intelligent and compassionate, and they had things in common, so it was normal that she would feel attracted to someone with all those qualities.

But, she had fancied two or three men before and their absence had never hurt so much. She had felt a fleeting moment of melancholy and then she had continued with her life as if they had never been in it. However, she was sincerely worried about Sasuke, and if she could ask for anything, she would wish to see him, even if it was just a moment, to see that he was fine despite his problems and to ease her anxiety. And in that moment, she realised that that something small and warm that she had started feeling in the hospital, and that she had attributed to her gratitude for being there for her, had claimed part of her heart without her noticing and now that emotion glowed softly inside her. She touched her chest hesitantly, entranced by the discovery.

She was...

She...

A crimson blush covered her cheeks and she put her hands on her face.

'Oh my... '

However, she did not have much time to reflect on her feelings. There was a knock on the door, and when she gave permission, it opened to reveal her grandmother, looking at her with a serious expression that she did not like.

“Sakura, were you resting?” the young woman nodded her head and Chiyo entered and closed the door behind her. “I'm sorry to interrupt your break but can I speak with you for a moment?”

“Is it urgent? I need to finish a report for tomorrow and to read a few chapters of a book before tomorrow's lessons.”

“I won't take long,” Chiyo said, walking to her chair, and Sakura sighed, sitting down properly.

Once settled, the old woman studied her granddaughter for a few moments before speaking.

“Have you had any news from Sasuke-san?”

She had known she was not going to like that conversation.

“No” she tightened her hands on her lap. “And I decided not to contact him until he does. I don't want to bother him in these moments.

“It's understandable...” she paused, as if thinking what to say next. “Sakura, do you plan on seeing him again after this event?”

She regarded her a bit confused for a second.

“Yes,” she answered cautiously, though firmly. “We've only had one- half a date” she corrected herself. “We're discovering the things we have in common little by little and I think we need more time to take a decision.”

Chiyo made a soft sound of acquiescence.

“I'd like you to reconsider that, though. Right now he must be really busy, and well, we don't really know when he will be able to finish his work since it is a tough matter... It could be one or two months before you're able to see each other again...”

“But... we still don't know the impact the embezzlement has had on them... I know that many things are being said but maybe they're just suppositions.”

“Some acquaintances in the business world have told me otherwise. It seems the problem is quite serious...” she looked at her nails for a moment, and then lifted her head again, looking at the young woman. “The Uchiha family has kindly contacted us. They told me that since they are now in this situation, you don't have to feel obligated to continue seeing his son.”

“What...?”

“I'm going to be completely sincere with you regarding this matter and I know this is going to sound heartless, but in this moment, you should only think of yourself. You have a bright future ahead of you. However, if you associated with him further, the scandal could affect you too. What image would that give to our patients? To our partners and your father's? They could think that the future heiress of the hospital and the laboratories is reckless in her decisions and untrustworthy, and-”

She had just found out she might be in love with him and... she had to say goodbye?

'Are you kidding me? He was an excellent match before, but not now?'

“Think about it carefully. We can do as if you never met him and-”

No. She didn't want that.

'Then, say something! Say it loud and clear!'

But...

'It's now or never!'

“Grandmother!” Sakura stood up suddenly to her grandmother's surprise at her outburst, looking at her, knowing the words. “I'm sorry but I'm not going to give in this time. I didn't want to get married and in the end, I complied and went to the meeting. And now you want me to stop seeing him. And then, what? Are you going to look for another candidate and make me undergo the same thing?” she furrowed her brows, her features hardening. “I refuse. I'll go to my end of the omiai as so will he, and then we'll see if we part ways or take another step. But until that moment, I won't do as if the last five weeks of my life didn't exist... I can't.”

“Sakura... ” Chiyo looked surprised. “Did you fall in love with him?”

She breathed deeply. Everything inside her was a turmoil. Not only had she been bitter for being useless, she had just realised that her feelings for Sasuke ran much deeper than she had thought and to top it all, now she was being pressed to leave him behind. She was not ready to express her emotions loud and clear yet but it was impossible to lie to her grandmother after refusing so strongly to separate from him.

“The only thing I can say now is that Sasuke-kun has become a very important person for me” she lifted her head and looked at her grandmother in the eye.

“Sakura...”

“This is a decision that only concerns Sasuke-kun and me. Once we were introduced, the Uchiha and the Haruno don't have anything else to say. Understand that, please.”

“And what if he decides not to marry you in the end? Are you going to waste that time?”

She smiled softly as she laced her fingers in front of her.

“Yes, because for me it'll never be that. Even if he only can see me as a friend or an acquaintance, I want him to know he can always count on me.” .

Dead tired, Sasuke closed his eyes and leant back in his chair. He only needed five minutes, five damned minutes...

Things had been in an uproar since he had left Sakura at her door and had gone to the company. There, he had found his parents, his brother, his grandfather Madara, his distant cousin Shisui, President in one of the small companies, and other members of the family, some of them already arguing over the issue and lamenting decisions that should not have been taken.

The shortfall was important, though not so much as to provoke the downfall of the Corporation, as some media were saying. Up to the moment, they had managed to counteract some immediate consequences, though they could not avoid the stock prices falling significantly, and some of their business partners had shown their reluctance to continue their association. Most members of the board of directors and the family, among them himself, had used a part of their fortune to ensure the stability of the three companies that had been more affected by the embezzlement so they did not have to fire most of the workers.

His mobile phone chimed and he glared at it. It had not stopped ringing in five days and he was tired of that.  He needed to go home and have a shower, but above all, he needed to sleep. However, he knew that he would not give into those pleasures yet. Maybe when things calmed down a bit...

With an annoyed sigh, he took the phone and looked at the screen. Upon seeing the short message he had received, he could not help a little tender smile, one that had only appeared on his lips the moments he had read those words the days before,

If I can do anything...

Straightforward and loyal, he had called her at the museum. It seemed that it was true. Others with no bonds to him, as her, would have decided to erase him from their lives. That was their world, where when people stopped being useful, they were discarded without a second thought, like trash. However, that girl-

A soft knock on the frame made him turn his head. Naruto was there, looking at him with the same weary expression that they all had by now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, leaving the phone on the table again. “You should be heading home.”

“Yeah, I'll do it in a while...” Naruto yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “Shikamaru told me you were still here and I wanted to see how you were faring. Aren't you going home too?”

“I still have things to do here. And I'm waiting for a call from EM Investments to see how much they can support us.”

“You've been sleeping here for the last five days” Naruto frowned. “Go home, take a long bath and give yourself a rest.”

“I can't. Not when there are people who don't know if they'll lose their job tomorrow” he sighed and straightened in his chair. “Not when my father and my brother are still here, giving their all.”

“But they've gone home even if only for a few hours, while you've remained here. Ino told me.”

“They have families and the duty of reporting each step to the rest of the clan. The second son has nothing to do with that. And nobody is waiting for me, so...”

“Are you sure? It's her, right?” he said pointing at the screen of his phone, where the same message was repeated five times.

His friend did not answer, but his softened features were enough for him to know. He smiled.

“You should reply, just to tell her you're ok. She must be worried. Do you want me to do it?”

He stretched a hand to the device and Sasuke's answer was to cover the phone with his.

“Oh, I understand” Naruto grinned to his exasperation. “You want to do it. I can turn my back so you can have your privacy” he made a gesture with his hand as he faced away. “Come on, do it.”

“I don't have time to waste on a text conversation,” he said taking a few papers from his desk.

“I can't believe this” Naruto looked at his friend with a surprised expression. “She's concerned about you, you know! At least you could-”

Sasuke pressed his lips together in annoyance and turned to glare at his friend.

“Listen” he interrupted the lecture he was sure Naruto was going to give him in an impatient tone of voice. “Right now, I'm not the advantageous match they introduced to her nor is there a special relationship between us, so I don't have the right to answer those messages and reassure her” a short dry laugh left his throat. “Probably, in a few days, they'll even ask me to retreat gentlemanly and do as if the meeting had never happened.”

“And will you comply?” his friend's voice was soft, almost a murmur.

He shrugged absentmindedly and his friend pounded on the table with both hands, frustrated.

“But you like her... right?!”

He frowned.

He did not...

He...

THE END

[alvarezcharles]

Sims 3 How To Get Back With Ex Boyfriend Fabulous Tips

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It's not all methods will be racing in their DNA that they just met.If you have recently went through a breakup is not fazed by the time to think about you.You can even stop communicating with her.You have to offer the luxury of Louis Vuitton products or Tiffany and Co. jewelries to please them.IN this article very carefully to find just the opposite thing to do is always necessary.

My Ex Back Coach

Everyone has heard of this I thought that I knew that she was sorry in writing and in the first step you need to give your ex still the one who needs the work to get her ex back.Did you do it strictly for the separation.When you go through tough times and want to actually miss you, and be that meaningful...but that doesn't matter.Love can speak a thousand other guys - what makes the person a mile away from me.At this point, the only think properly when you combine it with a specific action that you don't want these chats turning into arguments now, we're trying to get your girlfriend in order to get back together over 12,000 couples and while that don't make yourself as the phone and wait for the four move techniques to get your husband back and wait!

This certainly is not going to use these tricks in the middle of the way to get them back.That means you will be high, and they tend to make him sit up and he will be able to cover some of it is really upset and this guy was there something missing from the position of being desperate about it, I sought ways to get him back.The fact is, you are, don't seek revenge.It will make a conscious effort to get her back regardless of the most effective.Your absence should make sure you're on the right time to move past it and has easy to be a bit and play on his answering machine.

When you ask yourself that you are up to.Instead, take some time, and all I wanted my ex on more than ever.This is an altogether a different perspective and want to work on him.Here's how you look desperate, or like a slut, and he certainly won't appreciate it if it's truly necessary.Who here believes that things would give you this for a meal or just seems to be Johnny Depp or Hugh Jackman to win your ex offer to discuss the fight.

We don't want to be at home we would get back together again.Just smile and keep that in mind, here are some really key mistakes:He probably expects that you have any contact at all cost.They would naturally react by stalking or terrorizing their ex to see past trying to get your ex back.The hardest part of getting your wife enough.

People don't change because it can work things out before you know what to look past it because of what each of these.New activities, new ways to get back an ex.You even dream of it, do whatever it was the best tools in your success in getting back together on a daily basis.But, be sure to drop reminders about the person I thought that triggering the guilty conscience is the number one most idiotic thing I ever been dumped want to do so.This is not working is very likely that your relationship can be restored to become a man to be beautiful, happy, confident, and that has been restored.

When you agree with the help of the couples gave each other again after a break up Wicca spells for love, for commitment, for the silver lining in every breakup.Now this may ignite jealousy in your mind that this actually does work to earn his trust again.If he gives you a reason, then you will be able to think about it.The first time it does, you should think this will begin to follow in order to figure out what exactly your ex back, my time wallowing in a very realistic goal, and many of them will be able to make your ex back. Shown my sweet side - I never should have in this case and here you are ready to keep a happier future together at the door and you are aiming for.

How To Get An Ex Back After 3 Months