#sorry that first ray looks so artificial i had to look up a reference and. yeah

[pawphin]

hi,

[calpalirwin]

Nights in the OR

A/N: This is called “I watch too much Grey’s Anatomy” so if you’re a fellow Grey’s fan in addition to a fellow Ashton ho, hi!

Word Count: 1.9k

And away, and away we go!

__

Nights on the peds floor we’re, in a word, uneventful. Low hums and beeps from machines doing their jobs while kids and parents alike snoozed between nurses prodding them awake to do their routine checks. You went through the charts of your patients, delegating a duo of an intern and older resident to each case with strict orders to page you only if something was seriously wrong, and a bright “Keep the tiny humans alive,” before making your way to the emergency room.

The trauma team usually ran the emergency room, a sea of green scrubs moving effectively and efficiently, assessing situations before paging the right departments, or diving headfirst into the work themselves. You caught sight of one of the doctors, a tall man in a shade of green scrubs darker than the rest in the room, and rolled your eyes. Attending trauma surgeon Ashton Irwin was about as arrogant as he was skilled, with an annoying habit of assessing quickly, albeit correctly, and working even faster on patients before shipping them off to the correct departments to deal with the fallout. You weren’t sure if that man had ever spent more than an hour, two tops, with a patient from start to finish. True to his arrogance and almost zero tolerance for sloppy mistakes, he was talking in hushed tones to a second year, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw set, as the resident nodded frantically before running off.

Dr. Irwin took a moment to compose himself, giving the slightest shake of his head and relaxing his jaw, before turning to wherever he was needed next. His hazel eyes scanned the room, and even from where you were you could tell that they were more on the green side tonight as they met yours. He offered forth the smallest of nods and smiles in your direction, dimples indenting both sides of the smile.

You returned the gesture, before twirling your index finger about the room. Extra attending on hand.

He waved his hand. No need. Got it covered, thanks.

You smiled your best, I don’t give a damn smile, striding across the room to take a seat behind a computer, crossing your hands behind your head. And with little else to do on your part, you settled in for a long night of researching the pros and cons of artificial bones versus prosthetics in cases for patients with osteosarcoma, a joint effort you were working on with the orthopedic surgeon.

Around 2 in the morning, you took a break from your research to grab a cup of coffee and a small bite to eat. On your way back, you spotted the orthopedic surgeon with a patient. “Oh! Dr. Hood,” you said as you approached. “Come find me when you’re done. I have some ideas.”

The man swiveled on his chair to glance up at you, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “You’re not in OR 2 with Ash?”

“Nnnnoooo…” you said slowly, taking a sip from your coffee. “Why?” you followed up in a clipped tone. What had Dr. Arrogant done now?

Dr. Hood smiled politely at his patient, and got the attention of his resident. “Ma’am, we’re going to take you up for X-rays now, and then we’ll see about setting your arm for you, okay?”

The woman nodded, clearly shaken up. Then, “What about my husband and son?”

“I’ll get word, and update you as soon as I can,” he promised, before the resident escorted the patient up to X-rays. Finally he turned his attention to you. “Car accident just came in. Parents are a little banged up. Mike and Luke are working up the dad. You know how Luke gets about stitches.”

The both of you shared a chuckle. Luke Hemmings, the plastic surgeon, had very high standards for even the most basic of stitches, and if he was on hand and free, it was an easy bet he’d do the work himself. “So, what’s Mike doing with him then, if it’s just stitches?” you asked, referring to the general surgeon.

He shrugged. “General work up and clearance, I suppose. But the mom and the son’s side took the impact the hardest. Specifically the son. Ash didn’t page you?”

You scoffed. “Why on Earth would Ash page me, Cal? It’s trauma,” you raised your hands and voice in a mocking manner.

“Uh, probably cuz the kid is like seven.”

You growled low in your throat, hands going to tie up your hair. “OR 2, you said? How long ago?”

“Not too long. They gotta still be prepping. So if you hurry…”

“Thanks, Cal,” you patted the man on the shoulder before taking off at a run towards the OR rooms, briefly mourning your discarded coffee and potato chips in the process.

When you shouldered your way into the room, Ashton was in the process of scrubbing in, while nurses finished prep. “What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, arms crossing instinctively over your chest as you made your presence known.

Ashton shut off the water with his elbow, turning slightly to face you. “My job,” was the reply in a tone that questioned your intelligence.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “That,” you pointed out the window towards the child on the table, “is a peds case, and you know it.”

“It will be once it stops being a trauma case, yes.”

“Why didn’t you page me?”

“Because I don’t need you. It’s a trauma case. I’m a trauma surgeon. Now, you want to stop asking inane questions, and let me do my job, or you wanna stand here and fight with me all night?”

“It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who happens to be trauma certified. And I’ll be damned if you do some hacksaw job on my patient that I have to fix later when I can scrub in and do the correct job now. So, are you going to ask me to scrub in, or do you wanna stand here questioning my credentials all night when you know I’m right? Do not make me go above your head to the Chief, Ash, because you know I will.”

His jaw ticked underneath his mask, his eyes hard as he thought over your threat. “Well?” he snapped after a beat of silence. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to scrub in?”

~~~

It was a grueling surgery, working in tandem with Ashton. For all the shit the two of you gave each other outside of the OR, inside you were one of the best teams, each of you knowing each other’s moves before you made them, and knowing what the other was thinking in the subtlest of changes. Even with both of your focuses solely on the patient in front of you, you were both vigilant in sending Ashton’s intern out every hour on the hour with updates, in which you two were also informed of the parents’ recovery.

Just before the four hour mark, Ashton let out a small hum of approval and you nodded. “Close and get him a room on the peds floor,” you told the intern.

“You don’t want me to update the family?”

“No,” Ashton cut in, already discarding his gloves, mask, and removing his scrub cap, shocks of curly brown hair falling forward and plastering to his sweaty forehead. “I will. Give Dr. Y/L/N any trouble and you won’t see the inside of an OR for a month.”

The intern gulped, knowing their boss meant what he said and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Y/N, I’ll meet you after I update the family to make sure we’re on the same page for how to proceed from here?”

“If you can remember how to page me, that is,” you smiled sweetly.

Ashton chuckled as he left the OR, while you stayed to oversee the intern closing, providing probably much gentler instruction than they were used to.

~~~

You rubbed at your eyes and stifled a yawn as you made your way to the cafeteria, still waiting for Ashton to page you. As you walked in, you realized why Ashton still hadn’t paged, spotting the man chatting with a few other attendings.

“Heard Y/N chewed your ear off,” Michael snickered.

“Yeah, she was pissed. Thanks for that, Cal,” Ashton said with a small giggle before changing his voice to do his best impersonation of you, “ ‘It’s a peds trauma case, and in case you forgot, I’m the peds attending who also happens to be trauma certified. Do not make me go over your head.’ Like yes, darling, I know. I’m the one who gave you your trauma certification.”

As the men started to laugh, you set your tray down in an empty seat at their table. “Morning, gentlemen!”

There was a cough as they tried to stifle their laughter, each of them getting out a choked, “Morning.”

“What were we talking about?” you asked innocently.

“Uh… just how Luke needs to learn to loosen up on the stitches,” Michael thought quickly. “Turns a five minute procedure into a half hour ordeal, it’s insane.”

“Sorry that I care how my patients look after a trauma,” Luke said with an eye roll.

“I’m sure, psych would call that mentality projection,” Calum teased.

“Paging Dr. Pretty Boy!” Ashton cackled.

“Hey! Rather be Dr. Pretty Boy than Dr. Arrogant,” Luke rounded on Ashton playfully.

“Who calls me that?”

“Uh… everybody. Y/N’s pretty accurate with her nicknaming,” Calum grinned.

Ashton let out a breath of disbelief as you smiled sheepishly at him, shrugging your shoulders. “Have you considered being less arrogant?”

“I am not arrogant!”

“Yeah, you are,” you all chorused, while Ashton crossed his arms and pouted. “Oh, whatever, the best surgeons usually are” you continued, turning your attention to Calum. “Before I got stuck in surgery, I meant to talk to you about artificial bones. Found some promising stuff.”

Calum paused in his sip of coffee. “Mmm, shit, awesome. Uh…” he checked his watch, “I got a half hour before rounds. You got time now?”

You checked your own watch. “Yeah, I got t-”

“Actually,” Ashton interrupted. “Y/N, I was wondering if we could talk real quick first. About the kid.”

“Oh! Yeah. We should probably do that. Cal, I’m off after rounds, if you’re free then.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded as he went back to his coffee while you and Ashton rose from the table, bidding the other three goodbye.

“So, his chart’s all up to date. I have one of my fourth years monitoring the situation, but I’m not expecting any complications to arise. Should be good to discharge probably later today or early tomorrow at the latest,” you brought him up to speed as you walked.

“Yeah, that’s great,” Ashton rushed, eyes darting around as he pushed open an on-call room and locked the door behind the two of you. “How long we got til rounds?”

“A little under a half hour, why?”

Ashton smirked as his hands landed hot on your waist, his lips finding yours. “Wanna boss me around some more?” he murmured against your lips, before he was trailing kisses down the column of your neck, before sucking into the sweet spot just before your collarbone, his hands jerking you to be flush against him. “Or, do you want my sincerest apology for being Dr. Arrogant, and forgetting to page you earlier?”

“Mmmm,” you moaned softly, tilting your head back, eyes shutting. “Little bit of both?”

“Yes ma’am,” he winked before scrubs went flying and your back hit the mattress.

__

Tag List

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[gumnut-logic]

The Cane (Part 4)

@flyboytracy​​​ asked:

Steampunk AU: five uses for a cane and one time Scott used it for its intended purpose 😘

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Aaargh, those migraines messed with my muse on this one. Had to fight it the entire way and the cane reference is tiny. Hope you enjoy it anyway ::hugs to all::

Many thanks to @janetm74​​​ @tsarinatorment​​​ and @scribbles97​​​ for all their help and amazing support of my crazy. And to @flyboytracy​​​ for asking in the first place.

This be Steampunk AU with a mix of John snark, a little bit of wee!Tracys in a little bit of peril, some selfless Scott, and a reason you don’t want to mess with Five or her pilot.

-o-o-o-

4.

“This is very inconvenient.”

Scott stared at his brother in the dim light. “Is that an attempt at impersonating Lady Penelope?”

John stared back, dust drifting haphazardly off his hard helmet and goggles. “As you’ve said many times yourself, there is no use in panicking.”

He had to give his brother that. A sigh and he assessed their situation yet again, shining his torch about the space they found themselves in.

They were in a basement. It was likely that they were lucky, as all indications were that if they had been in any other part of the building, they would not be having this conversation or any other any time in the future. The basement had a wall of solid bedrock on one side, the building having been constructed with that in mind with half the plumbing bolted into the rock. Unfortunately, the rest of the structure had been built on sand, which promptly liquified when the earthquake hit.

Speaking of earthquake. “How long do you think before the next aftershock?”

John pulled out his notebook, took a note of the time on the watch he had strapped to his wrist, and scribbled down some math. “They are very unpredictable, but I’m hoping this last big one will give us some time. Or at least, Virgil some time to dig us out.”

Scott fiddled with his transmitter unit. There was no response on any frequency he attempted. Either the equipment was broken or something was stopping the signal from reaching his brothers. John had already pulled his apart and attempted a signal boost with no success.

They were both covered in dust, but fortunately uninjured.

But, for the moment, they were stuck.

Scott was not very good at sitting still.

“We may as well rest so we can be ready when needed.”

Scott grunted.

His brother ignored him and wiped off a large chunk of masonry with one leather-gloved hand and sat down. “You know Virgil will find us.”

Another grunt.

“Sit down, Scott. You can afford to take a minute to rest.”

He let out a breath and bit his lip, but with a sigh, he did as his brother asked.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of dust and rock settling.

“Why did you come back in?” John’s voice was crisp, clear and calm.

“You were in here.” Obviously.

“But now both of us are trapped, whereas if you had run like you should have, you could be assisting Virgil to dig me out.”

Scott’s lips thinned. What had been his line of thinking? Had there been a line of thinking? To be honest, all he could recall was the thought that John was under a building that was about to collapse and he needed saving.

His voice was a little rough. “Virgil will get us out.”

“Hmm.” John was not looking at him.

“What did you expect me to do? Leave you here to die?”

Aquamarine turned calmly to catch his eyes. “Better than both of us.”

“We’re not dead.”

“Pure chance.”

John was always ever so direct.

“But important nonetheless.”

John sighed. “Reminds me of the well.”

Scott eyed him. “Really? You’re going to bring that up again?”

“Eternally, my dear brother.” John’s smirk was exceedingly annoying. “Besides, it passes the time.”

“I would rather spend time finding a way out of here.” Scott shot to his feet and began pacing around the space they were stuck in.

“If you disturb something that brings the rest of the building down on us, I’m haunting you until the end of time.”

Scott slumped a little. His brother was right. Messing with the fragile pile was just asking for trouble. They were lucky to have room to breathe, much less walk around.

“This is the reason why you ended up in the well, Scott. You haven’t changed in twenty odd years.”

Scott glared at him. His little brother had been six at the time, Scott only ten. The two of them had gone beyond the borders of the Tracy farm in Kansas and into land they shouldn’t have. They were exploring. John, as always, was a little more cautious, but Scott was ever running ahead.

It was rather ironic that it was John who fell in the well.

It wasn’t long dug, but the planks covering it were flimsy and the winds from the previous day had obscured them. John had gone through them as if the planet had eaten him.

“John!”

Scott found his little brother clutching his leg at the bottom of the hole.

It wasn’t a very deep well, but it was deep enough to put his brother out of the reach of a ten-year-old.

“Scotty, my leg hurts.”

“I’ll get you out.” He looked around for something to help John.

Perhaps he knew in some part of his mind that this could be the wrong decision. He had no rope and no real way to reach his little brother. He should get help.

But he couldn’t leave Johnny here on his own.

The thought was terrifying from both of their perspectives.

Perhaps he would have thought it a little less terrifying if he realised what could happen if he didn’t fetch help. Because once he found a long enough stick, he reached over the edge and while doing his best to add to the length John couldn’t quite reach, he fell in the hole on top of his brother.

There were groans and tears after that.

Scott didn’t hurt himself. John had been heard to comment on multiple occasions thereafter that it was because he landed on a cushion he called brother.

Scott countered that by saying he was lucky he hadn’t been impaled by a bony limb of said scrawny brother.

In any case, they huddled together for warmth for thirty-six freezing hours until someone finally found them.

By then, both brothers were dehydrated and starving.

The lecture from their father was almost as long as their time in the well.

Their mother, pregnant with Gordon at the time, took ill with the fright and there was some seriously scary time until the little fish was born a month later…a touch early.

Virgil wouldn’t let either of his brothers out of his sight for a good year after the incident. The nine-year-old obviously terrified they would disappear again.

It became legendary in the Tracy household for good or bad.

“So, you’re saying, I should have gone for help?”

Something clunked in the pile of rubble.

John arched an eyebrow. “As I said, you haven’t learnt. Yes, Scott, you should not have dashed back into the collapsing building. When Virgil finds out, he’s going to scalp you.”

“I’m sorry that my first instinct is to protect my brothers.”

John rolled his eyes, both original and artificial. “Your first instinct should be to protect yourself so you can protect your brothers.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Scott shifted his weight onto one foot, cocking his hip. “Fine. Then explain Bermuda.”

“That was different. That was saving lives.”

“You rammed a twenty-eight gunned frigate with Five!”

“It was firing on a sinking civilian target full of over two hundred passengers, including my four brothers. Grandma was not aboard. It was a fair decision.”

Scott had to admit it had been spectacular, the huge, blue-grey, manta-ray-shaped Five had reared out of the ocean and sliced the pirate vessel in half.

International Rescue had fished the survivors out of the water and there had been minimal casualties, considering.

Five had taken damage, but her cahelium superstructure was designed to withstand something as simple as a mostly wooden hull. Some gentle care from Virgil, an assessment from Hiram, and she was declared fit and well.

They had disappeared for a while after that as the rumours ran riot. Lady Penelope managed to smooth any ruffled feathers at government level.

Scott had both commended and roasted John alive.

“You could have been killed.”

“So could have you, and Virgil and Gordon and little Allie. Was I supposed to sit back and watch?”

Another clunk from somewhere in the rubble.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps, you know how I feel.”

“Of course, I know how you feel. We all do.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“Scott-“

But John was interrupted by another clank, this time clearly from one of the pipes against the wall.

“Virgil?” They both said it at once and hurried over to the rock face.

The clunk repeated itself and then started on a very familiar dot dot dot…

S C O T T

He reached behind and pulled his folded cane out of its sleeve on his back. Its metal tip shone dull brass in the yellow light.

He only had to tap one letter. Dot dot dot dash.

V.

Three letters came back in a hurried jumble of excited hammering. F A B.

Then…S T A T U S?

J  A N D  S   W E L L  A N D  M O B I L E.

S T A N D  B A C K ?

F A B.

Assuming Virgil was referring to the rock wall as the point of origin, the two brothers stepped as far back from it as they could.

Moments later a rumble and hiss of gears, the crash of breaking masonry and daylight suddenly shot through part of the rubble. This was quickly followed by a massive but familiar brass claw reaching in and grabbing a large chunk of rock, disappearing with it. A crunch of gravel, shove of rock…a shout. “Scott, are you in here? John?” Their goggled and fully armour-suited brother pushed the rest of the way through the pile of broken building, both claws fully extended.

“Over here, Virgil.”

Their brother’s head turned in their direction and metal shoulders sank in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Something shifted in the rubble pile and Virgil reacted, his right claw slamming into the chunk of masonry threatening to fall. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Scott didn’t need to be told twice as the remains of the building creaked around them in warning. Grabbing John’s arm, he hustled his brother out through the gap past Virgil.

The engineer’s eyes on the both of them.

No doubt there would be a medical examination in their near future.

Shoving John gently ahead of him, Scott turned to keep an eye on Virgil.

His metal clad brother stepped back carefully, letting rock fall in his wake.

Then, as if the final domino had been tipped, the entire pile began collapsing in on itself.

Scott took a step towards Virgil only to have his arm yanked on from behind.

“Damnit, Scott protect yourself!” John dragged him through the remains of the rubble as a cloud of dust roared behind them.

“Virgil!” He dug his heels in, fighting John’s hold.

“He’s wearing his armour, Scott. You are not! Move!”

It went against everything. He had to protect his brothers first. But John was right. Neither of them was wearing enough protection. Virgil was.

He had to trust.

Trust that Virgil knew what he was doing.

When put in those terms the answer was simple. Of course, he trusted Virgil.

Perhaps it was fate he had issues with.

John dragged him clear of the building and the cloud of dust. Two, nestled on her landing struts, was a wonderful sight.

And then Gordon was grabbing at him. Alan was yelling his name and there were dusty hugs and clunking helmets.

But still the cloud…

“Virgil?”

As if summoned, his brother strode out of the haze, cogs whirring and pneumatic systems hissing, metal glinting in the sun. His goggled eyes searching until they latched onto his brothers.

Thank god.

A matter of strides and he enveloped his engineer brother in a hug, metal suit and all. “Thanks, Virg.”

His brother exhaled in a huff. “What on Earth were you thinking?” And so began the rant about worrying about a brother encased in metal when a building is falling when he wasn’t and could have been killed with a single rock. You idiot.

It went on for some time.

John smirked at him for the entire tirade.

-o-o-o-

Next

[whitherliliesbloom]

yet with each descent do we rise again

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #26 - when pigs fly ]

[ alphinaud/wol ]  ★ [ 2,548 words ]  ★ [ fairy au ]

illya skawi & alphinaud leveilleur. in an au where il mheg is home to a nation of fae folk, all of whom are ruled by titania illya. mentions @ancientechos​‘ laurelis, @firstblesssed​‘s elletha and @windupnamazu​‘s lunya. contains the origins / lore of porxies in this au. i also reveal illya’s fae name for the first time in this fic but who really cares-

if porxies were the manifestation of the impossible being made possible, why did the sight of them bring titania so much grief?

He’s seen no skies clearer than one that hung over Il Mheg, a testament to the majesty that was the fae folk and their magics, no doubt. Despite being told again and again by no few fairies and pixies alike that their kingdom was not how it used to be - her luster tarnished by the leeches that were the mortal race and the marks they’d left upon the land’s beauty - he, in all his ignorant mortal bliss, still believed the kingdom of rainbows to easily be the most beautiful place he’s had the fortune to set foot upon. 

And as he greets the stunning soft gradients of blues and cotton candy white that was the sunny morning sky, looking up and being momentarily blinded by the scorching, yet welcoming sun above, he hears a flutter and a twinkle behind him, the back of his neck tickled by a light gust that urges him to spin around as quickly as his artificial rhotano blue wings would allow him.

“'Q-Quel amrun, Alphinaud!” A voice of exceeding melody, one that rose in the air and echoed in his ears like the gentle rustle of leaves upon the wind greeted him in a language he had not yet mastered, and he finds color rising up his cheeks as he takes far too many seconds to find the words to respond.

“A-and good morning to you, your majesty.”

Evidently pleased at his understanding her verbal fae tongue, the queen smiles wider than he’s accustomed to, and the radiance she exudes as if she were a beam of pure, unfiltered light almost sends him reeling. 

“’Tis good to see fae blood still courses through your veins.”

Alphinaud bites back a chuckle, and he resists the urge to speak as he bows, watching beneath a curtain of thin lashes as the queen turns her head to breath in the scent of morning dew before directing her tender gaze towards the young man.

His gift - and by extension his duty was still something of an awkward point of conversation between him and the ruler of Il Mheg, despite knowing full well that this arrangement, as gloomy as it made him to remember, was only temporary. Once he finds the cure and the source of the curse, and fulfills his responsibilities as far as it pleased Titania, he will surely be made to leave. Il Mheg was no place for mortals, not after what they’ve done to the fae. 

And he was still very much mortal, despite the ring of silver and golden flower embellishments he wore upon his finger, and the gossamer wings that sprouted from his back. 

“What’s on your schedule today? Helping Beq Thon with those awful weeds again?” The queen asks, swinging her dainty little legs as she hovered just several feet above marble. Her crystalline wings flutter gently with uncanny grace like petals, and from their tips fell sparkling dusts like thistledown that swirled and were carried away with the chilly lake breeze. The flap of his wings by comparison were harsh and clumsy, and he’d very understandably been called a disgrace to all fairies by all who saw his poor attempts at flying as they do. 

Thankfully not, he almost answers, but his conscious is immediately assaulted by a pang of guilt as he remembers the grace in which Illya had granted him stay within her kingdom, and the boundless amounts of kindness that not only she, but the other residents of the fae nation has shown him thus far. Instead he manages something of a forced smile before shaking his head. “I came to see if you needed any sort of assistance, your majesty.”

“Me?” The young fae widens her eyes, hand rising up to rest upon her chest. The limpid silken scarf that hung from her hands ripple upon the wind with her movements. “Oh.. No, no.. There’s nothing I need help with.”

“Is that so? Have you some sort of business outside the castle, then? If you do then, surely, there’s some way I can help you.” 

A dust of pink spreads across her pallid cheeks and up to the tips of her pointed ears, but she is quick to hide her blush beneath the light shadows of her pure white bangs

“I-I was... just here to feed the porxies.”

“Porxies?”

As if summoned by the call of their name, a passel of squeaky porxies burst through the bushes, their sizeable ears flapping as they gathered around the queen and oinked in delight. Alphinaud is taken aback for but a moment, mouth agape as he watches Titania toss her pearlescent cane into the air. It sparkles for a moment before it morphs into a hefty palm-sized satchel that lands safely in the queen’s palms. 

“Here you go. There’s enough for everyone, so don’t be greedy!” 

Illya beckons to the porxies with a wave as she opens the sack, and the pungent smell of grime, rotten fruits and crushed flower paste sends him gasping and grimacing, to which the queen could only flash an apologetic wry smile for.

“Ah.. I’m sorry for the smell..  Their diet is rather um.. peculiar. ” 

“N..No! Pray.. forgive me my response.. I was just.... surprised..” Alphinaud pauses, watching as the porxies feasted happily upon their breakfast completely unaware of the stench. “I never would have thought their appetite would be whetted by such... waste.”

With large chomps and nibbles, the porxies begin to disperse in number as they eat their fill from the queen’s gentle palms, the grime of their feed leaving a dirty black stain upon her otherwise supple, clean hands. 

“They say one man’s waste is another’s treasure...” Illya murmurs as the second to last porxie in line flutters away, leaving the last of the pack to eat off the scraps of the scraps slowly, but gratefully. “W-well.. porxies, in this case.. But they help with cleaning up the trash by eating them.”

Despite the familiar euphony of her words, and the kindly gaze she held towards the lone porxie, he sensed a touch of melancholy, of a sadness that he knew she would hate for him to notice. It certainly must not have been the queen’s intentions - he knew it wouldn’t have been given her tendency for hiding any emotions that she deemed to be unqueenly of her. And if the accounts of her friends and advisor were to be trusted, it’s that Titania of all people bottled up a mountains worth of burden and sorrow inside herself - one she refused to show to anyone. 

Alphinaud is silent as he watches her, glowing and mesmerizing in her beauty as she gently strokes the top of the porxies head as it squeals gleefully at her. He can swear the sun’s rays grow twice more incandescent as they shone through her shimmering, glassy wings in pink and purple hues like stained glass, only second to the warm, glittering hues of her eyes that reminded him of a field of lavender and violets. 

She was ever like a beacon of effervescent light - not just to him, but to Il Mheg and her people. And yet she would not allow herself even the luxury of grieving, of showing her sadness to the world for fear of going against her duties. The divine royal sparkles that shone in her eyes were now clouded by the rain, of the hidden words she’s stopped herself from saying for who knows how long now.

And it pained him, enough to drive him to insolence, and he wouldn’t bemoan her if she thought to have him banished on the spot for it. 

“What has you feeling so downcast, your majesty?” 

His question sends panic rippling down her spine, and for a moment the queen gasps as she turns her head up to stare wide eyed at him. She thinks to shake her head furiously before flying away.. but caught in the headlights of his concerned, and frustratingly sincere gaze she gulps, and finally allows herself to frown.

It takes a lengthy silence, one accompanied by chirping and the distant chatters of the pixies, to be true.. but his attention is focused squarely on the lady, who places her palms on either sides of the porxies cheeks and narrows her eyes with a heart wrenching, upsetting look of defeat. And when she finally speaks, her voice no longer held the tone of a celebratory songbird, but like little windchimes, barely louder than a whisper as it rang amidst the drizzle.

“Do you happen to know where porxies came from, Alphinaud?”

The question causes his head to tilt curiously, and he answers with an honest ignorance.

“Are they.. not simply another type of fae?” 

“Well... yes and no. They’re um... like you.” Illya strokes the porxies skin lovingly, as if in apology for speaking of it. But its beady eyes remain bright and naive as it looks up at its queen as if she meant the entire world to it. “They’re not fae born.. They were made into fae by a Titania.” 

The queen closes her eyes, heaving a sigh through barely parted rosy lips.

“There was once a saying.. A figure of speech that I believe is of mortal origin.. but it was spoken by fae folk once too. ‘Iire beag roi’.. Referring to the concept of impossibilities.” Slowly Titania leans her head forward to nudge the porxies snout with her forehead, a sorrowful sign of affection before it sounds out a snort of delight and flutters away. 

“Titania had a son - Ose Iala was his birth name.. But he always preferred the names of mortals far more than one of his fae. And he kept that fascination of mortals and the outside world even as he grew older, old enough to voice out his disdain for our rules against executing mortals who stepped inside Il Mheg soil.

‘The day mortals and fae will ever coexist is the day pigs will fly’, Titania did say with a mocking glare towards Ose Iala.. and the prince, in his fury towards his father’s stubborn intolerance, casted a spell upon a herd of pigs that wandered into Il Mheg from a farm in Lakeland.” 

Alphinaud’s heart sinks into his stomach as he listens, expression awash with pity as he looks upon Titania tilting her head up to the sky, galaxy worn eyes tired and wary. And though he needn’t hear the rest of her words to know what.. or who exactly she was referring to, he allows her to pour what little bits of her caged heart she had the courage to share. 

“My father.. He made the impossible possible, preached that there was no such thing as impossibilities to his people and told me the same when I was but a sprout who barely just learned to fly. And he made the impossibility of fae folk existing with mortals a beautiful, wonderful reality.” 

Il Mheg has changed more within the past 3 generations than it did with the countless millenniums before then, for better or for worse.. The name of the Titania who brought about this tide of change was scorned by most of the fae kingdom and forgotten by the mortals who had seen Il Mheg as nothing but pools of gil and resources they could steal from. 

But that was a cruelty and a despair that has wrongfully be thrust upon the Titania of the present - of the one who bears the heaviest burden of them all. For beneath the opulence of her glamorous, glittering dresses and the pristine gemstones upon her flowery tiara, she was but a young girl - a fae equivalent to a mortal of teenage age, who has lost family and freedom both. And above all else, the lonely little fairy was now shackled with duty, of her obligations to undo the mistakes Ose Iala had done to blemish their kingdom. 

“And yet... despite the miracle I’ve been granted, I’m worthless as queen. I cannot save my people.” Her hands clench into fists, and blood drains from her knuckles and threatens to pour out of the cuts her nails leave as imprints upon her palms. “Forget Feo Sul, I...I’m not worthy of bearing the mortal name Illya either.”

Alphinaud mutters her name beneath his breath, and the sweetness that is left on the tip of his tongue as he does causes his heart to skip a beat. Feo Sul. The flower of treasures. Despite what Titania might say, the young scholar knows better than any other that her name fits perfectly better than any other fae or mortal he might ever meet. 

“But you have saved your people. The fae are able to find hope to renew Il Mheg because of you.” With a furrowed brow, Alphinaud hovers forward, daring himself to lift his hand and rest over clenched fists. 

“Elletha tells me of how much you work to keep the infirmary running, casting your magics so hard that the palms of your hands would start burning and she’d have to stop you. I’ve heard from so many pixies that the fairy that appears at night, Lunya... she was once a mortal that you saved from death despite her being a plunderer.” His words at once cause her eyes to water, but also soothes the tension in her hands, and she finds her fingers relaxing against his reassuring grasp. 

“And Laurelis.. Whenever I speak to her, she wouldn’t stop talking about you! About how you sacrificed some of your own royal blood to feed the soil of Timh Gyeus on the first day after your coronation so that flowers would bloom again.. Or how you dove head first into the longmirror lake to rid the waters of the litter and oil.” 

“A-Alphinaud.. P-please-”

“Or how you caught frost on your wings as you dug through the snowy mountains for a week looking for tsasan setgel.. Or the way you ripped the cursed thorns the Fuath had grown around the pillars of Lyhe Ghiah as a prank with your own bare hands because you could not bear the thought of having anyone else do so! ” 

His hand tightens its hold, fingers laced and intertwined with the gaps of her own as he moves closer and raises his voice. So that she will hear him, so that she will listen, and face the reality of her own kind deeds even if she’d refused to thus far. 

“You’re the miracle Il Mheg needed. The fact that you yet stand, strong and tall as you are despite everything you’ve been through, that is a miracle above all others.”

The tears that trickle down her cheeks and falls off her chin glisten as little gems, reflecting off the rays of the morning sun with a rainbow hue that he feels tempted to catch with his fingers, were they not occupied with holding hers. And the tiny panic he feels in his beating heart dissipates as when she sniffs, and forces a glowing smile upon her face.

“ Iire beag roi.. How silly a notion, I’m nothing of the sort.” 

And Alphinaud smiles back, eyes narrowing as he feels her fingers wrap around his in return. 

“ gu dearbh. Pigs already fly, remember?”

[andypridee]

A River’s Current | Challenge #1

here it is. i bring to you Andromeda Pride. well, andy preferably. I’m so sorry this is up sooo late but writing this was kind of a whirlwind. Please ignore any mistakes, i was writing this like a thousand miles per hour. Thank you sooo much to @arin-schreave and @itssara-oc for the rps i hope i wasn’t such a mess. so i leave you with andy. i hope you reading her as much as i enjoyed creating her.

bon appetit!

Silence flooded the room entirely. The day that just happened had been a whirlwind of things that made me completely uncomfortable. "Oh my God," I thought "This is going to continue for who knows how long" This was clearly the best time to understand the magnitude of my actions. Normally, I didn't think much before acting, but the consequences were not so huge. "Okay Andy, you're already here and there is no escape. Breathe. "

The huge room that had touched me was like a dream. A huge soft bed, a wardrobe that was a work of art in itself, a movie ceiling. "I guess this is it. The selection." A contest to win the prince's hand. Not even that. A contest to win what remains of the prince's heart, if it remains, to be able to one day be the queen of this country, although, in reality, it would only be an accessory for the king and his baby factory because obviously you have to follow the lineage And that's what women are for.

It was incredible that I could be and live, even for a short time, in a room as full of luxuries as that. Yes, my childhood had been privileged, I was aware of that, but this was just another level. He had seen, known and connected to so many places that not even in his deepest dreams could they have dreamed of something like this. And there were people who had so much power and money that this kind of room was simply a "guest room." It was increasingly difficult for me to think that solutions for millions of people were in the hands of a few who should actually provide solutions for those people.

How I wish Sierra had been there.

Anger and helplessness began to grow within me. The air didn't flow to my lungs and I had suddenly started hyperventilating. I went out on my balcony and saw around me. Everything looked so serene from afar. So uniform and so peaceful. I wanted to dive into it, keep walking until I got away from that huge and pretentious place. The edge of the balcony felt like a wall of bars to me. I was not made to live observing. And I didn't even know what I was doing here. I had no princess spirit, much less a queen. I needed to get out, talk, be able to experiment and especially help. Not standing still, looking pretty, saying the things that everyone wants to hear but being hopeful enough for those people who have almost nothing. Everything methodical, everything calculated. All coldly experienced, knowing that even if you want to do something and help, that would not make everyone happy, especially the most important ones. Living not in a home, but in an institution.

I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed. I saw a valley covered by the moon. Miles and miles spread before me, ready to be explored, ready for the unexpected. The cold air brushed my cheeks and I smiled. Then came the sea, with its smell of salt and freedom. The sun caressed my skin and comforted me. In the distance, seagulls were observed in mid-flight. This was what made me get up every morning. The possibility of a new, just, and caring world. A world wherein every place that the sea touched you could feel airs of hope and happiness.

I slowly opened my eyes and took another deep breath. I guess I couldn't do anything about my current situation anymore but I could take advantage of it.

I went to sleep with that image of the sea in my mind and I didn't wake up again until the morning rays touched my skin.

When I opened my eyes the day had already started without me. My maids, Audrey, Kate and Elaine, were fixing my room for a new day. Although I did not really understand why since everything looked extremely resplendent. The bathroom apparently was ready to tell from the condensation on the mirror and my outfit for the day hung neatly from the closet.

I closed my eyes once more wanting to be in my room in Zuni, or even in Waverly's bedrooms. Or anywhere outside of there. I opened my eyes again with the slightest hope that my wishes would come true. Obviously, they didn't, so I sighed and walked into the bathroom, ready to have at least 15 minutes of relaxation and privacy. That was, of course, until my maids started helping me.

"Um, ladies? I don't really know what to call them. Girls? Um well, I can do this alone if you don't mind. ”I tried to speak kindly to them.

"But, miss, we must help you in everything," Audrey replied in a concerned tone.

"I'm sure it doesn't refer to everything," I said, pointing to my body in the process.

"It is our duty, Miss Andromeda," Audrey replied politely.

I sighed “Okay, you can continue to do whatever other crazy duty you are dictated here but please just call me Andy. It is the only thing I ask of you. ” I said almost pleading.

"Okay, Lady Andy," Audrey answered again, who, apparently, was the one in charge of the three.

"Andy, Audrey. Andy. " I looked at her and tried to smile slightly.

"Okay La- Andy," she replied uncomfortably, but she had fulfilled what she had asked and that was an advance for me in the little that I had taken that morning, so I left it like that and I decided to violate what I considered privacy as too many levels.

-

OK. I was not a girl in dresses. And that was clearly inconvenient now. Looking at me in the mirror, I looked like a cupcake. Literally. It smelled of vanilla and everything. The dress itself was beautiful, white with gold accents and such a neat chest. Truly a work of art. But I was not wearing dresses. I felt uncomfortable and constricted, I could hardly breathe, and my arms could not rise more than 10 cm.

And now she was supposed to have breakfast in front of the queen and the royal family like that. Fantastic.

"Miss, you must go to your lesson," Elaine warned me before leaving.

"Lesson? Are we not supposed to have breakfast? ” I asked, starting to feel like my stomach was roaring under the tight corset of my cupcake dress.

"Before having breakfast in front of the royal family you must take an etiquette lesson." answered.

"They think we don't know how to eat? It can't be that different. Finally, it is the same process, you eat and drink. There is not much science. ”

"It is a requirement for all the selected ones," Elaine replied, trying not to get too agitated.

"So now I am that. One "selected". " I said, this time to myself. "Okay, I'll be down soon," I replied, a little more disappointed.

Going down that huge staircase I could see the other girls. All dressed in extremely precious dresses. Splendid walk. Perfect complexion. Hair like silk. And I, holding on tightly to the stair railing, afraid of losing my balance and hitting the living room on the floor. What a contrast.

I entered a large room, where tables were set up with their respective chairs. Several selected ones were already arranged in their places, so I looked for mine in that sea of ​​linen tablecloths and flowers with artificial smells.

Lady Andromeda

Thanks, mom and dad. They seriously couldn't choose another name.

I took a seat and turned the side of the card with my name face down. Then I smoothed down my dress and waited for something to happen, though I wasn't really sure what that would look like.

Finally, Princess Safiya entered the room and addressed us. She exuded airs of elegance and neatness. Almost like her brother but she seemed under control and ready to take charge of any situation.

"Good morning. I'm sure you're all ... eager to start seeing as you're meeting my brother shortly, so I'll try to keep this brief. ”

Eager? Really? Rather terrified of having to meet the prince. Oh, my God. Prince. Know him. Friend, if you want you can have me there all morning because we could say that the prince was not my favourite person in the royal family.

“Today I will begin to instruct you on conduct and protocol, a process that will continue for the duration of your stay. Please know that I will be reporting any missteps on your part to the royal family. ”

This was the most outrageous thing anyone could have said to me. Conduct and protocol? Who I am? A doll? What were the behaviour and protocol? To silence your mouth only and that everything is calm and courteous. Crap.

"I know it sounds harsh, but this isn't a game to be taken lightly. Someone in this room will be the next princess of Illéa. It is no small task. You must endeavour to elevate yourselves, no matter your previous station. You will become ladies from the ground up. And this very morning, you will receive your first lesson. ”

That was exasperating me, that situation they have to change their way of being because we do not consider it highly appropriate. She understood that they were the royal family but they were also ordinary humans. She didn't understand the need to be stiff and perfect all the time, much less at breakfast. It was quite a facade, because, let's be honest, who dresses like that to go to breakfast?

Suddenly, a very elegant brunette woman entered the room. It was Felicity Graham, the prince's ex-fiancée. She saw herself as a powerful woman, even on her own and without any ties to royalty or politics. She was the first person to impress me in the background since I got there.

He approached Princess Safiya and muttered something to her, and so they had an exchange of murmurs and increased the discomfort in the room by 87%.

Neither of us knew what was happening and I personally felt out of place and worse yet, too hungry to have a good attitude. We were there in front of them and they didn't even bother to make excuses.

I was about to get up and go get my well-deserved breakfast without any consideration of what might happen because I honestly didn't care. The faster I got out of there, the better. Safiya said something softly to Felicity but I didn't really bother to understand. Were they really taking away even more time?

“Table manners are very important, and before you can eat in front of the royal family, you must be aware of certain etiquette. The faster we get through this little lesson, the sooner you get to have your breakfasts, so faces forward, please. ”

Against my own will, I followed the instructions and continued the etiquette lesson, ridiculous as that sounds, albeit with some difficulty thanks to my dress. In the end, it was what was going to get me out of here and give me my breakfast without having to disrespect the princess in her face. Despite everything, I had always admired Princess Safiya for her tenacity and intelligence and she was frank, a quality that I will always respect people.

When mentioning the very retrograde etiquette instructions, there were one to two times that I almost laughed out loud. Not speak unless they spoke to us first? Really? She did not know that modernity and feminine emancipation had not reached the court of Illea. Even more so when our president was a woman like the queen.

"If you follow this one, I’ll be disappointed," Safiya added.

Well, one less person to disappoint, and at least the princess agrees with me on that ridiculous rule.

After something akin to a courtesy practice, although it seemed more like a classy torture session, and Princess Safiya completely reproved me with her eyes, we were free. My stomach at this moment was a huge furious mass and when my eyes looked at that oasis called buffet I swear that the angels sang. I'm not fully aware but I think I approached the buffet unusual and not very elegantly, filling my plate with delicacies.

I found my seat and got ready to ... eat. Actually, at first, it seemed like I was stuffed but I hadn't eaten anything since I woke up and that was going to be like two hours! But after the first three or four bites, I tried to keep my composure. Not because they had pointed it out to me but because I wanted to show them that we were perfectly fit people to eat without making a mess.

As soon as the guard who was going to escort me to that small room where the girls came and went came, my back stiffened. Usually, it was good under pressure and I wasn't nervous but this time we were talking about the prince, the actual price. I think the usual was not suitable for those occasions.

I got up from my chair with all the grace that can emanate and accompanied the guard to that little room. The first thing I glimpsed upon entering was the cameras. They were everywhere, pointing at different angles to a chair in the middle of everything. And there was Prince Arin waiting for me, standing a little too straight, a little too stiff, very rehearsed. I approached dubiously, looking back a moment but looking back at the prince, who gave me a small bow.

"Good morning, Lady ..." Her eyes searched for my little tag with my name on it. I guess learning 35 names overnight was difficult. "Andromeda." I almost winced when he said my name. Today had been a perfect day to call me Andromeda. "Please have a seat," he said as he gestured toward the sofa.

I did not know what to answer. My mind had gone blank. She only knew that she was in front of the prince, the heir of Illea. It was as if my conscious part had come out of my body and I was making a fool of myself. I bowed very badly and approached him. Safiya would certainly be disappointed in me, I thought.

"Hello! ... um... Good morning, Your Highness" I answered and took a seat on the sofa. "What the hell are you doing Andy? How old are you? Twelve? Act like a fully capable young lady and stop being silly. ” I said to myself as I tried to get comfortable on the sofa. Glancing back at Arin, I tried to smile slightly, concealing my disagreement.

He had settled next to me, turning his body so he could see me properly. There was something about his actions like they were too methodical and too rehearsed. He didn't seem like a natural person.

"How is your morning going?" he asked in a calm but neat tone of voice. How many times had she done this? He was probably not even paying attention anymore, just following a script and waiting for the morning to pass without any complications.

I, on the other hand, was a disaster. And the most irritating thing was that that wasn't me. I looked him in the eye and I got myself back together. "It's just someone else, there's no reason to be intimidated."

“Well let's say waking up inside a golden palace is a whole other way to start my morning, so pretty good so far. I must say, that breakfast of yours is going to spoil my appetite ”I said, while shaking my head, amused. I wasn't going to tell lies, that breakfast had been the best part of my morning.

He simply nodded and continued.

That’s good to hear. So you slept well then? ”

Again that studied tone. Breathe Although she wanted to explode, I continued the conversation, trying to cheer her up a bit. If he didn't want to have a good time, it was his problem.

"Like a dream, but you must know. I was a bit shocked at first when I got to my bedroom but then I calmed down. ” yes .. that little crisis.

"I'm glad to hear you were able to calm down." He looked for a moment at the cameras. Was that necessary? It was silly to ask, considering my experience with the bathroom that morning. "Which province are you from?"

I instinctively turned my gaze to the cameras for a second, uncomfortable with the situation. A mouse in a laboratory would have felt more comfortable than me. For a moment I felt my dress tighter, my hair straighter, my shoes smaller. I turned my gaze to Arin and replied. He continued to ask me questions and I answered them for a while. The weird thing was that he didn't comment on it like he wasn't even listening to me. I was trying to keep my composure but I was already exhausted. I wanted, first of all, to put on a good pair of pants and a shirt. Sleep all day and in the morning embark anywhere. Probably a remote island, accompanied only by Clifford and a coconut called René.

As the conversation progressed, I became more interested in it. A feeling of relief flooded my body and when I realized I was actually enjoying the conversation.

"It sounds like you enjoy it," he comments as he nods slightly.

"I do ... I think it’s a powerful way to tell the world’s history." I replied, a little excited.

"Do you plan on returning to journalism?"

"I have not abandoned journalism, it's just that I work for an NGO so that keeps me busy"

"What do you do there?"

"Well, I'm practically a wildcard. I've taught English and Maths to kids in Vietnam, I've helped to bring food to war-displaced communities, I've aided to build houses for a community made up of women, victims of family abuse, there's everything where you can help. "

Talking about my job was something I loved, but I didn't want to sound pretentious or anything like that, so I was glad when she continued to genuinely be interested in the conversation, or so it seemed.

He nodded, impressed and continued. That certainly sounds like a lot. I'm sure your family must be proud. ”

It was annoying that his only reaction to everything was to nod but he was so wrapped up in the conversation that I barely noticed. At the mention of my family, I gave a little laugh, funny.

Well, I don’t know. I'm sure my family thinks they contribute a lot to society as well. For my parents especially, it's just a complicated way to help when you can just donate a bunch of money and leave. ”

"Oh well, I'd be proud if I were them. It’s important to contribute to the ways you can. ”

"It is. It absolutely is. I believe that making change happen is the labour of everyone. Grain by grain great things can be built. ”

She nodded, again, and glanced at her watch, then turned to look at me.

"Thank you for speaking with me this morning, Lady Andromeda. It’s been a pleasure. ” She got up from the sofa, saying goodbye. "Please enjoy the rest of your stay."

"I'm sure that my stay he meant two hours while he finished with the rest of the girls," I thought.

But I tried to hide my true thoughts, so I got up and smiled confidently. Whatever happened, I think it would be fine.

“It has been surprisingly a pleasure. And please, call me Andy. My parents have been a little extra since ancient times. ” I joked, trying to make the stiff prince smile for the last time.

And fulfilling my goal, Arin smiled at me and nodded again. "This man and his head," I thought. But I did not care, I got him to show some emotion and that already progressed for me.

"Have a good rest of your morning, Andy."

-

“My parents thought so too but believe me, growing up as Andromeda was pretty tired. "I shrugged." Well, I don't believe so, for now, you are my only friend” me briefly, joking, as I usually did, about my name “the food here is the most heavenly thing ”

She was an extremely sweet and funny girl. I think it was a relief to be able to talk to someone without being afraid of being judged in the background, something very rare to find in the social circles that my parents made me frequent.

She giggled and answered “I can imagine. It's a beautiful name but it's pretty long and I'm assuming people have mispronounced it before? ” Her eyes lit up at the mention of our possible friendship ”That sounds like a deal. I'm your friend and you are mine. Don't take backs. ” And continuing with our conversation he added “It is pretty good. Where are you from? ”

“So many times! plus it is pretty weird so you can imagine ”I shrugged. "Sounds like a deal!" I told her and reached out my hand to close the deal, she took it, laughing, and we shook hands with each other but “From Zuni, originally. What about you? ”

"I kind of get your pain. Not many people know how to pronounce my last name. I'm from Whites! ”

"Well, I sure hope I'm pronouncing it correctly." I giggled a bit, something slightly unusual for me. "Oh! that's a great contrast ”I commented when listening to her native province.

"Don't worry, you're actually doing pretty good." She beamed and continued “It is! So what did you do before… ”she pointed around us, referring to La Selección“ all of this. ”

I smiled nostalgic, thinking about the life I had left behind. That life that had been built by me and only by me, and which was now thousands of miles from my reach.

“Well, I study journalism in Waverly and I work for an NGO, helping in poor communities. what about you? ”

“I have been volunteering in the orphanage here and there. I want to keep volunteering but the career I have makes it hard. ” she pouted a bit, making me smile. Sara was the sweetest person I’ve ever known. Usually, my friends and I expressed love with jokes and sarcasm, so hanging out with Sara was actually pretty recomforting. "I am a manager in my dad's business."

We talk about our jobs and our family. The more time passed, the more relaxed I felt, forgetting everything that had happened in the morning and feeling much more myself. Sara was a very sweet, interesting and impressive person. Being a manager in her father's store and volunteering. It is completely true that appearances are deceiving. At first glance, Sara seemed a very elegant but somewhat reserved person. Turned out to be funny and energetic. With airs of princess everywhere and kindness of heart, I was glad that there were girls with possibilities of winning, like Sara and genuinely began to root for her. We ended up talking about my family, especially my sister, Sierra. My sister was one of the people I missed the most and it had only been a day. We usually parted for months but we were a phone call away. This was completely different and he needed her more than ever.

"I'm lucky to have her. I believe that without her I wouldn't be here right now, ”I smiled wistfully, trying to control my tears instead. “Alright, so topic change because I don’t want to have mascara all over my face and make a fool of myself the first day, mmm what do you like to do outside work?”

Sara smiles and said “You really are the sweetest aren't you…” she gave me a sympathetic look and answered my question. Alright. We can definitely do that another day! ” * joked, making me smile and improve my spirits. "I? Well, I enjoy to read and write. Bullet journaling. Geocaching! I would love to travel more often. I love to learn more about different places. How about you? ”

"Count me in! crying out loud is one of my favourite things ever ”I commented sarcastically. “I have tried to do bullet journaling, trust me, it did not go well. But geocaching? what’s that? ” I've never heard of anything like that but I was truly curious "I LOVE-" had started screaming but then I remembered that morning's sermon and decided it was too early to start breaking the rules. "I love travelling!! it's my favourite thing to do in the whole world, I love to discover how diverse we can be in just one planet. I love photography as well, I have an album with all my trips, to see how a picture can tell a million words and a million emotions. ”

"I mean watching some sad movies can get you to cry out loud" Sara joked, continuing my joke. "Oh, I love it! Oh, geocaching is a bit of a weird hobby of mine. It's basically using GPS to find hidden treasures people have left behind. It's interesting for me. ” added with some regret. “I love travelling as well !! Are we possible soulmates? Long lost sisters? ” I smile with her eyes lit up. "Wow really? I would love to see it. Your album I mean. "

"Only if it's titanic" I joked. "But it sounds interesting like catching Pokémons or something like that, you have to invite me some time" I smiled, interested in my friend's hobby.

"I know! it's crazy!” I laughed and continued "where have you been?” And finally answered her request. “Well I could show it to you sometime, I secretly sneaked it in because my mother almost banned me from bringing it, ”I whispered.

"Obviously only titanic." she chuckled, joking. "It is! I have found several interesting things when I go geocaching. ” she grinned as I mentioned my interest in geocaching “Someday for sure!” she said, smiling widely. "It is! I hope to do that often. Travel I mean. I have been here and there but I barely had time to really immerse myself to each province. The farthest I've gone is New Asia. ” she leaned in when I started whispering “Oh really? I would love to see it. I'm glad you sneaked it in. ”

------

The sun had begun to set over the city of Angeles and a beautiful yellow light sheltered the city. The day that just passed had been, honestly, an emotional roller coaster. I had survived my first day of the Selection and I still hadn't made a complete fool of myself. I didn't know if I was going to be there in 24 hours or if this was only going to be a one-day vacation but at that point, it didn't matter anymore. Despite all my opinions regarding the Selection and what was happening, I was beginning to realize that not everything was completely bad and that in reality if I could not change the course of the river, I could at least travel with the current. I was afraid that maybe I would lose myself in the process for, apparently, it was something I couldn't control. The only thing I could do was make sure that day after day when I looked in the mirror, I kept seeing the same girl who wanted to contribute to the change. No matter what happened.

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

If I Could Lie

Request: “Hey, I just wanted Aizawa angst pleaseeeeeeee! I want tears dammit! Thank you for your time!!!!  : )” - Anon

Words: 6,711

Pairing: Past!Aizawa x Reader, Aizawa x Midnight

Category: Angst

Warnings: Gore, mentions of: self harm, suicide, depression, mental problems, cursing, dark themes

Summary: It’s been twelve years since they’ve split.

And for twelve years you’ve wanted to see the sun come up for the least time. But Emi Fukakado won’t let that happen. You’ve wasted so much of your young life away because of them. It’s time to let go.

A/N: I was heavily inspired not only from my own personal problems from life, but also with Billie Eilish’s song “when the party’s over”. The lyrics and music video literally resonated within me, so I couldn’t not write this. Anon wanting angts was just sheer luck, but thank god. Y’all want angst? You’re getting angst.

- Admin Sapphire

                                          ______________________

She clutched her purse strap tightly, wide eyes gazing in sheer awe and intimidation at the building in front of her. Amnesiac Corporations: Let Us Help You Forget. The words filled the air with their presence, the silver catching the early afternoon rays of light. The building alone was at least 30 floors high with a sleek appearance, making someone of her stature look out of place near it. But she was sent here on purpose.

For her own good.

The woman scoffed and rolled her eyes, her best friend’s words echoing in her mind. Her best friend of almost thirteen years had referred her here, saying she had “inside connections” to get her in here for free. I love you, y’know, is how this all started.

It’s been 12 years, (Y/N). You’re not getting better, and you won’t let go. It’s time, and I know a place that can help you, honestly.

She took a deep breath and continued on, willing her body to walk towards the large glass doors. A doorman was waiting there, smiling silently as he held the door open for her. She thanked him quietly, and carried on into the building.

Again, she was in awe at the sight of everything. The inside was just as sleek as the outside, white marble with dark mahogany wood accents gave the space a very chic and modern feel to it, and little green plants were placed everywhere sparsely. The entire area felt calming, and (Y/N) unconsciously began relaxing, the grip on her purse strap loosening.

She spotted what appeared to be the waiting portion of the main floor and began walking over there towards the comfy looking dark brown plush chairs when a voice called out to her, startling her slightly.

“Excuse me! Miss?”

She swiveled towards the front desk in confusion, (e/c) eyes landing on a young looking man who was waving towards her energetically. Warily, she walked over to him and he only stopped waving when she was less than five feet away from him. He huffed with a smile on his face, pale cheeks tinged a light red from his frantic waving.

“I’m sorry to startle you, Miss.” He began, and (Y/N) opened her mouth to wave it off but was cut short when he spoke again. “I know you dislike being startled, though you try to brush it off. You hate that little jolt of fear, huh? Me too.”

She slammed her mouth shut, eyes wide as she stares at him in disbelief. Paranoia began setting in, and her right hand unconsciously moved to behind her back to pull on her hair in anxiety. Who is this man? “How did you-” He cut her off again. Now she was beginning to get irritated. “My name is Yoarashi Inasa, and I’m a close friend of Emi, who is also a mutual friend of yours. She is the one who spoke with me about your appointment here.”

(Y/N) felt the tension be released from her shoulders, and her hand stopped clawing at her hair, her scalp relieved of the stinging pain. “That explains a lot.” She said sheepishly, a small smile on her lips. She chuckled when Inasa nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! Emi also sent me a photo of you and all that when she scheduled your appointment, that’s how I was able to recognize you.” (Y/N) nodded every couple of words, processing everything he said.

When he finished, he clapped his hands together, and gave her a charismatic yet professional smile.”Welcome to Amnesiac Corporations, Ms. (L/N). Let me take you to the proper floor for your appointment.” With a light laugh, (Y/N) smiled and followed Inasa as he navigated her towards an elevator she never noticed before. She stepped in, and Inasa followed before pressing the button more towards the bottom of the keypad, and Floor 24 lit up above the doors.

“Wow…” She murmured under her breath, and only realised she said it out loud when Inasa gave a small chuckle, and her whole face felt warm. “I know,” He hummed. “The building’s pretty impressive. I almost couldn’t believe it when I saw it with my own eyes, too.” (Y/N) nodded in agreement, and a few moments later the elevator came to a stop, a small chime ringing before the door opened to their designated floor.

She stepped out after Inasa and peered around at the new area. It looked just the same as the ground floor, and another secretary was also at the front desk. (Y/N) gasped when she saw who it was, and felt a mixture of anger, disbelief, and sheer amusement. Emi locked eyes with her and laughed outright, waving at her lightly.

(Y/N) ran off towards the front desk, leaving a roaring Inasa behind her, his mouth covered with his hand as he laughed. (Y/N) reached the front desk and slammed her hands onto it, giving Emi a stern look. “You didn’t tell me you fucking worked here!” She exclaimed, the curse words flowing from her mouth like second nature. Emi giggled and shook her head.

“I mean, I did say that I had special connections.” She tried.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “You’re such a brat.”

She heard retreating footsteps behind her, and she turned her head to see Inasa walking back into the elevator, waving his arm at her again in departure. “I’ll leave everything to you, Emi. It was great meeting you, (Y/N). See you soon!” And with, the elevator closed, chiming it way and signalling he was heading back towards the first floor.

Emi stood from her chair and walked around to stand next to (Y/N). She flashed her a cheeky smile, and straightened her posture. “Welcome to Amnesiac Corporations, (Y/N). Allow me guide you towards our briefing room before your appointment.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes but smiled at her best friend before linking arms with her and laughing as Emi began waltzing them towards an unmarked door down at the end of the corridor.

By the time they reached there, (Y/N) was red faced and giggly. Emi was no better, hair slightly askew from swinging. They straightened themselves out before Emi opened the door and ushered (Y/N) into a plain white room. The room itself was large and expansive. The white tiled floors looked as if they had never been stepped on, and a white chair sat behind a tall slim white table, an empty glass resting on it.

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows in confusion, and Emi just shushed her and guided her towards the table. (Y/N) sat down in the chair, and looked at the empty glass. There were no smudges on it, not even dried specks of water. It felt strangely off, and it made (Y/N) slightly uneasy.

Emi stuck her hand out in front of (Y/N)’s face. “I’ll take your purse and coat, ma’am.” She used that annoying stereotypical old secretary lady voice, and (Y/N) laughed before shrugging out of her light jacket and handing off her purse to Emi. Emi grasped the items in her hand before making her way to a door that was towards (Y/N)’s left. It wasn’t the same door they entered in. That door was directly in front of her, right?

“I’ll be right back with your change of clothes.” When her eyebrows hit her hairline again, Emi scoffed and rolled her forest coloured eyes. “You’ll want them, trust me.” And with that, she was out the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the room fell into a deafening silence, and (Y/N) could hear her own heart beat clear as day. Looking around in curiosity, she tried to find something distinguishable in the room. It was way too blank to just be here. The walls and ceilings were white, the floor tiles were white, the chair she was sitting was white, and even the table. It was only when she turned around that she saw floor drains behind her, the silver shining bright in the artificial light above her (which was also white.)

That was odd. Why would they need floor drains in such a plain room as this? That also sparked another question in (Y/N)’s mind. Why would I need a change of clothes? What briefing was necessary? Was there a doctor involved? Where’s Emi?

She thoughts quickly became frantic, and her hand quickly found its way back to her hair and began tugging harshly know, her sharp teeth sinking into her bottom lip and began chewing. Her eyes grew wide and her head kept swiveling around, trying to figure out where she exactly was and why did Emi leave her here. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, and she felt the tearing of a couple of her locks beginning to disconnect from her scalp. Just as she was about to begin screaming, Emi returned and closed the door behind her softly.

In a flash, (Y/N) willed her mental breakdown away, and she snatched her hand away from behind her back, returning to a relaxed demeanor. She gave a smile that looked warm and genuine to Emi when she turned around. As it should.

“Sorry I took so long,” Emi waved slightly in the air with her words, her left arm free while her right arm carried with her a change of what looked like a white shirt and white pants.

Great. More white.

“The closet that held all these was locked and my key card wouldn’t work so I had to track down that cute janitor I told you about. I didn’t mean for it to take twenty minutes. Sorry.”

“Twenty minutes?!” (Y/N) replied owlishly, shock in her voice. Did she really spend twenty minutes breaking down? It didn’t feel that long…

“Yeah…” Emi rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Time goes by so quickly here, huh?”

“Apparently.” (Y/N) mumbled, and accepted the clothes when Emi handed them to her.

(Y/N) stood up to change, and when she noticed Emi not turning to leave, she just deadpanned and stared at her, and Emi did the same. A minute or two went by before Emi threw her hands up in exasperation. “Jesus christ, we used to live together! Just change your clothes!” (Y/N) laughed before she began peeling her shirt off. “I just wanted to see how long I could make you squirm before you yelled at me.” (Y/N)’s tone was smug, and just as she lifted her shirt over her head, the fabric blocking her view, she felt a cold, small hand slap her stomach, and (Y/N) let out a small shriek.

“You dickhead!”

“You deserved it, fucker!”

Their laughs continued as (Y/N) finally pulled the shirt from her head, dropping it to the floor. The black was such a startling contrast to the white that it sort of threw her off, but she shook her head. When she looked up, she saw that Emi was no longer smiling, her eyes focused on her exposed flesh. A smart remark was on the tip of her tongue, something along the lines of “Like what you see? I charge £150 a strip show” but it died in her mouth when she followed her gaze to what she was looking at.

Emi was staring at the ugly smattering of scars that where blotched on her both of her sides. The angry red and shiny pink lines contrasted with her paled (s/c) flesh, and (Y/N) could see the sadness and anger in Emi’s eyes. Feeling judged, she quickly snatched up the large white t-shirt and threw it on, the fabric extremely soft and the large sleeves reaching all the way down to her elbows. “Stop staring… it’s nothing you’ve never seen before.” She muttered, and it was only when she began removing her leggings that Emi snapped out of her reverie.

“Sorry, (n/n).” She murmured in apology, using (Y/N)’s nickname. “It’s fine.” (Y/N) sighed, and pulled up the thin and soft sweatpants, the material clinging to her legs more like leggings. Quietly, she sat back down into her chair, and looked up in confusion when Emi coughed at her, wriggling her eyebrows. “Shoes too, sweetcheeks.”

“Are you kidding me!?” (Y/N) exclaimed in exasperation, and Emi laughed as she kicked her shoes off and threw her socks angrily into them. She shivered when her bare feet collided with the strangely warm ground, not expecting the temperature.

Emi picked up all of her clothing and deposited them in a bag that (Y/N) never noticed before. Once the bag was tied, she held out her clipboard, and the light playfulness in her eyes was replaced with serious formality. The sudden change made (Y/N) uneasy, and she gulped in anticipation.

“The purpose of Amnesiac Corporations is to aid our customers in helping them forget and move on from undesirable or painful memories from their past, usually caused by some form of debilitating trauma.” Emi read off of her clipboard, and then looked at (Y/N) expectantly, and (Y/N) nodded in acknowledgement. So she continued. “We use modern and innovative medical and psychological medicine to help our clients achieve the bliss they need. Please look up to the glass on the table ahead.”

(Y/N) switched her gaze from Emi’s face to the empty glass in front of her. Before her eyes, she saw a hologram appear before her, the blue light illuminating her face and causing her to gasp. “Before you is a menu that has options to choose from that deals with your category of pain that you wish to forget. Please scroll through and choose your category.”

With a hesitant hand, (Y/N) brought her fingers to the hologram and was amazed when she actually felt a sort of cool mistyness that the object in front of her was real. Casually, she began scrolling through the options before her, and her heart ached when she read some of them off.

“Child death… Loss of parents… Murder witness… These are all horrible, Emi. Do people actually come here to forget these?”

Emi nodded her head sadly, large eyes filled with sadness, the dark green almost clear. “They do. Now please, pick your category.” Nodding understandingly, (Y/N) brought her gaze back to the list before her, and continued scrolling until she found what she was looking for, her gaze hardening and a distant look filling her face. Her trembling finger hovered over the two she wanted to pick, ironically sitting side by side with one another.

#403 - Damaging Betrayal of Close Friend/Family Member                            #404 - Damaging Relationship Termination/Cheating Partner

Noticing her apprehension between the two options, Emi softly cleared her throat to grab (Y/N)’s attention, said girl’s (e/c) eyes filled with an impassive look. They were widened slightly, and Emi began to worry. “You may choose up to 3 options, but be warned, they may overlap and cause some unwanted side effects, which I will get to once you‘ve made your decision.”

Nodding numbly, (Y/N) tapped on both #403 and #404, and a pop up appeared, asking for confirmation on her decision. Tapping “Yes”, the message disappeared, as did the hologram. (Y/N) focused her gaze on Emi again, who looked sympathetic and began reading off of her clipboard again. “Now that you have made your decision, I must now warn you on the side effects of the options that you have chosen.” Nodding for her to continue, (Y/N) listened as Emi began droning off things such as “Undistinguishable emotions”, “Unfamiliar responses to family members or friends from the time period in which the event occured,” and even “Reoccuring and frequent déjà vu.”

And each time Emi had something else to bring up, (Y/N) nodded her head to signal she fully understood. Finally, Emi ended her little “side effects” spiel, another difficult expression filled her face, that uneasy feeling again returning to (Y/N)’s chest.

“Now I need you sign off on our waiver, which is standard to everyone client. It establishes that you choose to have this procedure done on your own consent, and we’ve warned you what may possibly happen as an after effect slash side effect.” Bringing her the clipboard, Emi watched with worried eyes as (Y/N) looked over the paper with a dull expression, her (adj) eyes numb. I hope this works for her.

After signing off her name, Emi took a couple of steps back until she was roughly ten feet away from (Y/N). With a curt nod, she looked to the upper corner of the room and clicked her tongue twice. Suddenly, a slit in the floor opened, and a small wall appeared in front (Y/N), coming up only two feet possibly. With the wall in place, it felt as if she was being trapped in a box. (Y/N) jumped in her seat when it appeared, electricity flying through her veins.

“What’s this for?” She questioned, confusion heavy in her tone. Emi smiled lightly. “Safety precautions. The procedure can get a bit… messy.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened comically, and Emi couldn’t help but burst out into laughter.

“Are you trying to fucking kill me?!” (Y/N) proclaimed incredulously, disbelief lacing her words. Emi’s light laughter soothed her shot nerves a bit, but her question still hung unanswered. When she finally caught her breath and recomposed herself, Emi wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye before righting herself. “No, I am not going to kill you. But the procedure does become messy quick.”

(Y/N) looked at her expectantly, and Emi sighed before explaining. “The procedure purges your body of all the trauma and undesirable memories, figuratively and literally. We chose an all white room and clothing choice so that we may see the purging more clearly. It also aids us in seeing if you need a second treatment.” Her words were swimming in her ears, and all (Y/N) could do is nod in false understanding.

Emi’s mouth then twisted into a grimace. “This is the part I never enjoy…” She muttered quietly under her breath, thankful (Y/N) didn’t hear her. Straightening herself, Emi locked eyes with (Y/N) again before starting.

“The glass before you will fill with the liquid that will commence the purging, the amount and colour of it determining the amount it has to purge. But it will only do that after we do a scan and find everything that must be discarded.” (Y/N) stiffened, but Emi soothed her sudden worry.

“It’s like a flash of light for the scanning to commence. It will only take a second.”

Nodding yet again, (Y/N) sat back and calmed her breathing. Everything will be fine, you can trust Emi. She’s your best friend. She would never do anything to hurt you, right? (Y/N) stopped breathing when a little voice in the back of her mind spoke up.

The same thing was said about Nemuri, wasn’t it?

The awful feeling thudded in her chest again, as it has these past twelve years, and (Y/N) scrunched her eyes up in pain and sadness. The thudding was a familiar and yet unwelcome feeling in her chest, as it always is whenever bringing up those two.

Nemuri and Shouta.

Just thinking of their names nearly sent her into another episode, and the thudding became pounding. It was only when a flash of white blinded her behind her eyelids did she come back to the present. Emi gave her a sad smile, having noticed on the small episode (Y/N) just went through. It hurt her too, after all these years.Watching someone she loves in so much pain.

“Told you it was simple and quick. Now look to your glass.” Completely sidetracked from her impending mental breakdown, (Y/N) switched her gaze over to the empty glass in front of her, and watched in awe as a liquid began bubbling from the bottom of it as if from nowhere.

A thin and black liquid bubbled up, the liquid so dark that it seemed to suck up every light that came near it. (Y/N) watched with dread, as did Emi, as the glass continued to fill to the brim, only stopping when it threatened to spill. Emi whistled lowly. “That’s quite the amount you got going on there-” She stopped when she saw the scathing look (Y/N) shot her and quickly snapped her mouth shut. Pink tinged her pale cheeks in shame. “Sorry.”

Huffing, (Y/N) slowly raised a hand to grab the glass, and her fingers nearly grazed it before Emi called out to her.

“Wait!”

Immediately, she snapped her hands back to her lap, fingers worriedly tugging and pulling on the hem of her shirt. Her scared eyes met with Emi’s worried ones. “I will admit to you,” she started slowly. “That the procedure is known to be… painful, when one has been suffering for a long time, especially like you.”

(Y/N) gulped, and reconsideration flashed through her mind quickly. Emi saw this, and quickly spoke up again.

“You’ve been suffering twelve years because of them, (Y/N). You’ve destroyed your own body and mind because of them.” Emi’s voice filled with raw emotion, and (Y/N) looked at her in surprise. She never knew how strongly this affected her.

“Don’t forget who found you and took you to the hospital after what you did to yourself. Who changed your bandages and never left your side.” Shame filled (Y/N)’s face, and she cast her head down.

“A little pain to rid yourself of over a decades worth of it is nothing.” Emi declared.

“Think of yourself for once.”

(Y/N) lifted her head again and steadied her gaze on the glass again. Her fingers pulled and tugged on the hem of her shirt again as she tossed and turned in her mind for an answer, face blank as she stared at the glass with hooded and hiddenly conflicted eyes. Finally, after what felt like ages, she straightened her back and hesitantly lifted her hand to grab the glass. She carefully picked it up, as to not spill any of the precious onyx liquid inside of it.

She slowly brought the glass to her lips, and steeling her nerves, she took a deep breath before placing the glass to her mouth, taking a small sip of it. It tasted like water, leaving her feeling strangely refreshed, as if she was dying of thirst before and didn’t know until now. Finding herself minutely relieved by this, she brought the glass to her lips again and began to drink greedily. But the more she drank, the more the liquid slowly became more bitter. Her eyebrows pulled together in discomfort, and she breathed heavily out of her nose, fogging up the glass.

Finally, as she neared the end of what felt like forever, the taste was so bitter she felt as if she were to throw up. Sipping up the last of it, she pulled the empty glass from her lips, cheeks bulging slightly as she refused to drink the last of it. The taste was so vile that she coughed slightly, some of the liquid escaping her lips and dripping back into the cup.

It was only when her muscles began to hurt that she finally swallowed it, a small amount still left on the right corner of her lip. As she swallowed the last of it, she slowly brought the glass back to the table it was on, looking once again as it did before, minus the transparent remnants of the dark liquid streaking the inside of it. A dull thudding began in her chest again, but it wasn’t the same as before. It felt deeper, sadder. With a shaky hand, she brought her hand back from the glass and wiped the remnants of the drink from her mouth.

As she swiped her hand across her mouth, the thudding was so hard that it felt as if were shaking her physically. A sharp spasm streaked through her shoulder and neck, and mid wipe her shoulder and neck seized and spasmed, lolling her head like a bobblehead, shaking her to her core.

The thudding grew heavier and she parted her lips lightly as she raised her hands to push some of her hair from her face, gasping for air as the bitter feeling burned her throat, the thudding in her chest reaching what felt like its climax. The feeling reverberated throughout her entire body now. Sniffling as she brought her hands down, something clicked in her, and her head lifted straight, eyes landing on Emi who watched in shock.

(Y/N)’s eyes were wide, dead, face impassive. Emi waved her hand to see if (Y/N) could see her, but (Y/N)’s eyes were looking straight through her. Emi recognized that look from both her past and from her job here. Funny how (Y/N) had that look in her eyes long before this company existed.

The purging was about to commence.

The blank look from before melted off of her face, and (Y/N)’s eyebrows scrunched together and her face softened and twisted as if she was about to cry, pain and sadness clear as day in her eyes, and so very very raw.

Her lips parted as she took in little gasps, and (Y/N)’s chest felt as if it were about to explode, tilting her head up slightly to the ceiling. Twelve years of grief and pain and betrayal bubbled its way up to the surface, and a singular hot, thick tear poured straight from the tear duct of her right eye. But instead of her vision swimming in clear blurriness, a sort of black swam in her sight. The tears wouldn’t stop coming, and they dripped thickly and fast down her cheeks and chin, running down her neck and staining her white clothes.

Sobs slowly began falling from her lips, and she sniffled and shook, eyes blinking as more black tears began falling from them, pouring like a river from her eyes. The pain in her chest was too much, and all she could see before her was memories from all those years ago. Memories of them.

Shouta’s face floated in front of her, his wide and charming smile making her gasp and hiccup as the tears came harder, the whole front of her shirt sticking to her skin and black as the night. All the nights they spent together, all of the quick hugs, the silent kisses. The hysterical inside jokes they had with one another, the gently caresses and understanding looks they gave to each other in the comfort of the dark, when it was just him and her.

Her voice grew in volume, and soon her whimpering sobs grew to flat out crying, her voice straining as she shook, her hands coming up to wipe at her tears, eyes squeezing shut as the deep dull pain continued to throb through her. The black smeared all over her cheeks and some of her tears got into her mouth, staining her gums black. But the tears didn’t stop there, and neither did the memories.

All the hours she spent with Nemuri over the years. The days where they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone but themselves. The nights spent with one another at parties, the afternoons where they basked in the sunlight and spoke with one another like sisters. The secrets they’ve confided with one another, what (Y/N) trusted her with…

And things could only become worse.

The day she received her final text from him, his words saying that we wanted to break up because they weren’t communicating enough shattering her right where she stood. But she held on to hope. He said if I fixed our communication problem, he would get back with me. She cried to Emi their senior year. He’s still in love with me. He still wants to be with me.

But when she made her way to the gym the following week, on her way home, she saw him speaking with Nemuri, her best friend since sixth grade. An awful feeling ran through (Y/N)’s chest when she saw them together, and the memory brought up an even harsher bought of cries, her tears now having soaked into her pants.

Nemuri confronted her later on with the news that she and Shouta had gotten together, that she had feelings for him since the previous year, and to not take it too harshly. It numbed her, and it only truly hit her when she came home. Her tears were endless, and that’s when that disgusting thudding in her chest began. All those years before.

Emi was there through it all. I was going to tell him that day. She sobbed into Emi’s shirt. I was going to tell him that I was willing to try again. That I wanted to be with him again. (Y/N)’s cries filled the entire room, small shrieks coming every now and then, her dirtied hands coming to grip her hair tightly and she began pulling hard. Her entire outfit was soaked black, and the black tears now began pooling on the floor by her feet.

For months she watched them prosper and love each other while she sat forgotten in the back, still yearning and hurting for the one she still loved, snatched away from her by her former best friend. All the problems that she had before, the problem’s that Shouta helped her overcome and forget came back with a vicious intent. She began eating less, sleeping more. Emi and others who cared for her worried, but she always brushed them off and convincingly told them she was fine. She built up this façade for months, only letting her true emotions run when she was on her own.

She began blaming herself for everything, as if she were the reason he left. That she left him unsatisfied. That her giving her body and love wasn’t enough for him, that she was not enough.

That she was unloveable.

These toxic emotions unsheathed themselves from the depths of her mind where they had hidden for years, and with no one to stop them, they ran free.

Unloveable.

That word was repeated by herself like a mantra all these years.

Those were the words she said as she maimed her sides with her kitchen knife the summer they graduated from high school, the pain oblivious to her as she kept slicing.

“You were never good enough for him.”

“He only used you for experience.”

“You gave him your everything and it wasn’t enough. Pathetic.”

“She is everything you could never fulfill for him.”

“You’re not worthy.”

“Unloveable, that’s all you’ll ever be.”

“I’m unloveable.”

“I’m destined to die alone… I’m okay with that.”

“He never loved you. And you were okay with it. Just lie to yourself.”

The knife kept going, and she only stopped when her fingers were too slicked to hold on properly. She looked at herself in the mirror, bloody, crazed, and crying. Even as she fell to the floor with a thud, even as Emi busted the door down and screamed when she saw her, those words never left (Y/N)’s lips.

Unloveable.

Unloveable

UNLOVEABLE.

(Y/N) wailed, her body scrunching forward as the thudding increased, her tears dripping straight from her eyes and onto the massive puddle that filled the floor.

She began screaming, her words flying through the air of the room.

“It hurts! It hurts!” She moaned, her voice hoarse and nearly incoherent as she cried harshly. Emi was crying herself, horrified and stricken with such grief as she saw (Y/N) twist in her chair, (e/c) eyes swimming in black tears that soaked her being and collected in a pool on the floor.

“I-it burns!” She wailed. “The p-pain won’t end. M-my chest…” She hiccuped harshly, hand coming to grip her soaked shirt tightly, “ I-it’s killing me! Make it s-stop! Please!” All of her memories flooded her vision at once, pain lancing through her being as their faces flooded her. The years flew by, and it all showered down upon her. All of the nights spent awake, thinking of them and pounding and pulling and scratching her body, trying to claw this disease from her.

The toxicity spread into her love life. Relationships never lasted long, the thought of him either too much for her or the distrust she felt in them, as if all those men and women would abandon her the same as he did, and she shied away, trusting no one.

That tiny voice from before spoke up again.

It’s payback. It whispered.

“Why?” (Y/N) whimpered, face still scrunched as the tears continued to pour, sobs still emanating from her chest.

For everything you couldn’t do for him. Your body wasn’t enough, wasn’t perfect, so he settled for something better. So now you fade away. You’re nothing without him.

(Y/N) screamed, bashing her fists into her head. “ Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” She screamed, and the voice laughed.

You know I’m right. You’re nothing without him, and he doesn’t want you anymore. He hasn’t wanted you for twelve years. So just die.

(Y/N) cried even harder, her hands leaving her hair and gripping her chest through the soaked material, her nails biting into her flesh.

Maybe it’s right. She thought dully.

That’s when another voice piped up. Stronger than the last.

No, it is not right.

(Y/N) gasped, so thoroughly shocked that her sobs ceased, the tears still pouring down her face. They seemed to come even heavier now, so much so that she couldn’t see Emi ahead of her.

You’re life has been controlled by them for too long now.

The voice was strong and warm, easing the thudding in her chest, but the tears came even harder.

You are more than just the memories of them. The memories of him. Of her.

(Y/N) nodded to no one in particular, her face now calm.

Forget him. Forget them. Let them go.

(Y/N)’s voice was just a whisper, and Emi almost couldn’t catch it over the steady sound of heavy trickling, (Y/N)’s tears still falling.

“Let me let you go.”

The black liquid began dripping from the edges of her lips, and Emi watched in horror as the liquid now fell from both her eyes and mouth, the amount not being possible to be held in just her body of that size. It was building up faster than the floor drains could discard, and the liquid rushed up and lapped at the wall separating Emi from (Y/N). (Y/N)’s eyes were blank, and she stared straight ahead. Her mind felt lighter, her chest no longer hurt. She felt as ease. Wait, that’s not the word. This is a feeling she hasn’t felt in twelve years.

Emi watched as (Y/N)’s lips tilted upwards in the first true smile Emi hasn’t seen in years, and it elicited such a strong emotion from her that her tears fell again, her thin hand coming up to cover her mouth as sobs fell out.

(Y/N) was at peace.

And with that knowledge, (Y/N) closed her tired eyes, a smile still on her lips.

Her body slumped, and with a scream from Emi, she fell right into the pool she made, her body disappearing from sight.

____________________________

“I think that was the best sourdough grilled cheese I’ve ever fucking had.” (Y/N) moaned, her hands resting on her slightly distended stomach.

Emi laughed as she picked at the remnants of her salad, eyes warm as they were trained on her friend. “Well you kinda ate three of them, and you just came up from anesthesia like,” Emi checked her watch. “Three hours ago, so maybe your taste buds aren’t particularly active right now.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “Fuck you. It was good.”

The two women paid for their meals and left Emi’s job. (The food court in there was to die for, and seeing how (Y/N) had cracked her head when she fell during her purging and needed emergency staples, she was desperate for anything.)

They walked out into the afternoon light, the sun high in the sky. For 2’o’clock on a Wednesday, it was pretty damn nice. A light breeze rushed by, ruffling the white dress (Y/N) was wearing, lended to her courtesy of Amnesiac Corp.

“Want to head to the park?” Emi suggested, already walking in the park’s direction. “There are swings there.”

(Y/N) jumped a bit in joy. “Absolutely.”

So they began walking, talking amongst one another about random things.

“Okay so obviously I don’t remember this,” (Y/N) started, and Emi snorted. “Obviously? You smashed your head into the ground and cracked it open” (Y/N) ignored her and continued. “But did I really gush out that much of the black tar stuff? Like honestly?” Emi nodded her head. “If you want, I can send over the footage if you want to see for yourself.” (Y/N) nodded her head vigorously. “Hell yeah. That’s writing material right there.”

Both women laughed at her response, and Emi’s chest swelled with happiness. (Y/N) was practically glowing. She hasn’t seen her this happy in years. There’s nothing that could hurt her now.

While they were walking, (Y/N) accidentally collided with someone’s shoulder as they were walking by, jolting her and whoever she hit. (Y/N) turned to apologize, cheeks warm with embarrassment, when both Emi and the man she collided with gasped.

Mother fucker! Emi screamed in her mind as her jaw dropped open. I knew I spoke too soon.

(Y/N)’s wide pale eyes locked with equally large charcoal eyes, light pink lips hanging open as shock spread across his fair and handsome face.

“(Y/N)…” Shouta breathed out in disbelief, his words nearly not even leaving his lips. His eyes held grief, sadness, and regret.

(Y/N) stood speechless, her eyes never leaving his.

“Wh-” Before she could finish her word, Shouta grabbed her hands, his large warm hands enveloping hers in a familiar tingle, his alabaster skin contrasting with her pale (s/c) tone.

“(Y/N) it’s been years. I-I’ve missed you so fucking much!” He began gushing, his emotions making it hard for him to get his words out. Emi was silently seething as she listened to him declare his still everlasting love to her best friend. (Y/N) was silent through it all.

She listened diligently as he spoke of how he heard of what she did to herself and how he and Nemuri had a big falling out a couple of years after it, due to his grief and regret.

“She was just a rebound that lasted longer than it should’ve. I was weak.” Shouta conceded, his eyes slightly watery. “I’ve thought about you non-stop the last ten years. I’ve tried to get in touch with you, but it was as if you disappeared.” His hands shook as they still grasped hers. (Y/N)’s eyes trailed down to where she was connected with him, his fingers intertwined with hers looking so right.

“Please tell me you’ll give me another chance?” He looked into her eyes, his own pleading with hers for genuine forgiveness. Emi looked to her too, curiosity getting the better of her.

(Y/N) looked conflicted, eyebrows scrunched together and lower lips caught in her teeth as she thought. Slowly, she untangled Shouta’s warm hands from her own, gently placing them back to his sides. He looked at her hurt, confusion laced in his eyes. They both waited in bated breath, ears straining to hear (Y/N)’s verdict.

“I’m so sorry,” she began, shaking her head lightly, hair flowing with her like a soft wave. She looked to ethereal.

“Who are you?”

[mmazzeroo]

Chapter 2: DANY I - How Does She Do That?

@helloimnotawesome - Happy 2nd December <3

Chapter 2:

DANY I - How Does She Do That?

"What a shit day!" she mumbled as she idly ran her finger round the edge of the shots-glass. That lousy piece of shit! It was her third and last glass for the night. He's not worth your tears, Dany, remember that!

She could feel Viserys edging closer. Holding up her hand, she closed her eyes and sighed. "I don't want to talk about it, Vis. Not now."

"Alright sis," he placed his arm across her shoulders, "just say the word if your brothers need to 'wake the dragon' on someone's ass, yeah?"

She nodded and couldn't help the little smile that crossed her lips.

Giving her a tight squeeze and a kiss on the head he whispered, "you know where to find me when you're ready."

Her sweet brother. Always loving and protective. Both of them though she was closer with Vis than Rhae. Could be very funny too, but couldn't think of that now. She could feel the anger coursing through her veins, needing to project it somewhere. She just couldn't deal with it right now.

"And what's with all the fucking elfs and gnomes and lights and relentless singing everywhere?! The noise. Oh the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!", she cried out. Pissed off at Christmas because of an asshole? Good choice Dany, not a cliché at all. At. All! She rolled her eyes at herself.

"'tis the season", replied Tyrion calmly. "So just hakuna your tatas there for a sec 'Grinch'."

"'tis the season", she said mockingly, "yeah season for all the rats to crawl out of the sewer. Hope the turtles are enjoying the peace and quiet. I know I would!" She knew she sounded bitter but she couldn't find it in her heart to care. Not now. "Besides", she continued, "it was Halloween like last week! No reason to break out Santa and the reindeers just yet if you asked me."

"It was Halloween a few weeks ago...and no one asked thus the lovely cheery decorations everywhere", Tyrion said sarcastically. In the background Tormund muttered something about reindeers and farting.

She sighed again staring at the glass in front of her. He's not worth your anger either, Dany. Just drag your ass to bed, sleep it off and start afresh tomorrow. Gently pushing the still full glass away she slid down from the stool. Staggering a bit she blinked a few times trying to gain her balance.

Davos' gentle voice sounded behind her, "I'll have this added to your tab Dany-girl, don't worry."

She gave him a half-hearted thumps-up.

When he stretched his arm over the bar and padded her on the shoulder she reached her own hand up and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. Thanks, Dadvos.

The old sailor had a good heart. He had landed on their shores some 12-13 years ago with a badly infected leg wound. In the end Dr. Stark had to amputate the leg below the knee to save Mr. Seaworth's life. Having lost his own family to war he had dedicated his life to helping others caught in the same kind of chaos. On that fateful night his ship docked in King's Landing he had been dragged into the ER by a shouting Gendry. They'd barely managed to dock before Davos had collapsed. What no one knew at the time was that the ship was loaded with Dothrakhi refugees. Scared, hungry, many wounded, and almost all of them seasick, but what parent wasn't willing to risk almost anything to save the lives of their children? Even crossing the poisoned water if it meant safety.

Gendry, being Gendry, had of course confessed to Dr. Stark after a day or two not knowing what else to do or where else to go. So her mom and Dr. Stark had pulled a few strings and somehow managed to get DA Tyrell (current President Tyrell) to reward Mr. Seaworth with amnesty for his heroic actions instead of being charged with human trafficking. They had showed up at the docks with food, water and meds for the refugees before sending them over to Dragonstone where a Dothrakhi community had long been established.  

Since then the Stark pack, Vis and herself had basically adopted Davos as their uncle, or 'Dadvos' as they lovingly grew to call him. Not entirely trusting his footing with an artificial leg he had given up sailing; not for good but no more rescue missions. Instead he and Tyrion had established a little pub which served as the front end of their 'shelter for cripples, bastards and broken things' as Tyrion proudly referred to it. Hot Pie and Gendry had been the first beneficiaries — Hot Pie had been sent to culinary school and now worked as head-chef at the pub. Overseeing trainees was part of the job description but Gendry and Davos made sure to alway be around. Hot Pie was a good guy, but a few sandwiches short of a picnic so to speak, so some of the kids liked to try to play tricks on him once in a while. Something that did not sit well with Dadvos! Gendry helped work the bar and being a pretty good handyman as well he would fix up whatever needed a brush up here and there. And Tyrion? Well, being a Lannister he obviously provided the cash, and though being trained as a psychologist, he also managed the business side of the pub. Loving every second of it. The heart of the place was Davos himself - always ready to listen, play games, give advise, or simply let people have their space.

Reaching the door, bag in hand she heard Tormund call out to her, "Whatever stupid shit the fucker did, where I'm from his woman would cut off his cock and wear it on a string around her neck as a trophy!"

"A pecker that small could never be anyone's trophy", she replied dryly stepping out in the snow.

Out in the cold she remembered why cold weather and alcohol is such a bad mix. You only feel warm because of the booze, Dany, don't let your body fool you. She could feel her head buzzing. Breathe! Stay focused! Luckily the hospital and thus the Stark and Targaryen residence was just across the street.

Watching the ground as she walked trying to steady her steps in the slippery snow, she didn't notice the man coming towards her. Inevitably they collided in the hospital foyer.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"My apologies, miss!"

With the speed of light a strong arm was wrapped around her back preventing her from falling on her ass. Looking up she saw a familiar face.

"Commander Selmy", she smiled, "what a surprise! Sorry for, literally, bumping into you like this."

"Could say the same to you, Dr. Targaryen." He removed his arm from her back and gently resting his hand on her upper arm. "Was just informed that you weren't expected back until tomorrow or, technically, later today." He smiled back at her.

She cleared her throat. "Yes well, complications arose, ensued, were overcome."

Narrowing his eyes slightly Commander Selmy gave her a long inquisitive look. She did her best to look back at him with as much confidence as she could muster at this hour. Just breathe, Dany. Whatever you do he'll know something's up anyway. Whatever his conclusion he just gave her a tight nod and warm smile.

"Right, I best be on my way now, have something for the lab." He lifted his hand slightly holding up a paper-bag.

"Oh? Has there been any trouble here?" She looked around the foyer for any signs of an altercation of some form, but saw nothing other than the usual few anxious relatives and a couple of nurses sitting behind the reception desk working quietly.

"There was a serious traffic accident earlier in the evening. A family of five was brought in, but no ID's so..." He trailed off. When anyone was admitted to the hospital without any kind of identification fingerprints and blood samples were taken to hopefully verify the individuals' identity that way.

"So standard operating procedure was followed. Got it!" She nodded absentmindedly eyes again scanning her surroundings. "But why you though?" Her head shot up, eyebrows furrowed, giving him a puzzled look. "It's usually something the City Watch handles, but you're Commander of the Gold Cloaks. Must be very high priority." She  tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. What in the Seven Hells is going on?

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes looking over and behind her clearly avoiding direct eye contact. Looking very uncomfortable he cleared his throat and said, "Just a precaution. Wish you a good night Dr. Targaryen." He was out the doors before she could respond. What the fuck was that about?!

As she crossed to the private lift at the back of the foyer she was approached by Margaery.

"Dany! Didn't think you—"

"—you'd be back until tomorrow, yeah I know", she finished exasperated.

Margaery gave her an amused look trying to hide a smile. "Won't ask", she said smiling holding up her hands as if surrendering. "Since you're here though would you be up for doing me a favour?"

"What's up?"

"Grey is currently sitting watch at a dog we got in this evening. The poor thing was in a terrible vehicle accident. Thing is he's beginning to wake up and..." Margaery looked at her expectantly.

"And you'd like me to go have a look to see if I'm going to get my head bit off, is that it?" she asked with a smirk while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Exactly!" Margaery grinned.

"Give me the headlines as we walk." Work! Nothing focuses the mind like work! Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much? Who do you think you're kidding, Dany, that's exactly why you love your job! That and you get to help. Helping does make me feel useful. She could feel the anger from earlier slowly began to subside, her body felt more relaxed. The alcohol had done it's job now it was time for her to do hers, and with a task at hand she quickly felt sober again. Strange how the mind can clear up like that. Damn it Dany, pay attention to Marg now!

"He came in sedated so we had to work quickly. The x-rays only showed a broken front leg. Lots of bumps and bruises though and some burns, but overall just getting away from that alive is a miracle."

"How so?"

"According to Tormund the vehicle took a tumble downhill and burst into flames."

She gasped in shock. Poor guy! "What about the rest of the family?"

Margaery waited as she dropped her bag off by the door to their break-room. She heard Margaery sigh next to her. The normally optimistic woman was clearly hesitant.

"They didn't exactly get away that easily." Another heavy sigh. "The man was patched up by Dr. Lannister and is currently stable and expected to wake up sometime within the next few days. His wife on the other hand..." She trailed off and dropped her eyes to the floor.

Her heart dropped. Oh gods! "She didn't make it." The words came out only as a whisper.

Margaery closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. "Sadly no." She lifted her head again and looked at Dany, "but Dr. Martell and Robb were able to save the babies so I guess there's a bit of a silver-lining?"

"Babies? She was pregnant? How far along was she?!" She could feel her eyes grow big in horror. Does this story just keep getting worse?!

"Robb said based on weight and length they estimate she was about 36 weeks, so based on that alone the babies are quite well and safe." Oh thank the Gods, but there's a 'but' there's always a 'but'. "But" Yup, fucking knew it. "because of the rolling, falling and  various hits their mother suffered Dr. Martell wants to keep them under observation for a while just to make sure they're as good as can be. Robb's up there with them now."

"Wow! Can't even imagine what it must be like for him when he wakes up." She couldn't find any words to describe how she felt for that man somehow losing and gaining everything the same night.

They walked in silence until they reached the pens at the back of the vet wing. The smaller animals had cages where they could rest and heal, but the bigger ones had a pen. Basically fences only about 50 cm high as the animals kept there were not in a condition to stand up on their own, and this way also made it easier for the caretakers to check on them, change bandages etc.

In the pen in front of her was a big fluffy ball of white fur with two red eyes squarely fixed on Grey. He's gorgeous! Teeth barred and a low growling.

"Hey there sweetheart", she said tenderly as she carefully stepped in front of Grey. "I know this is scary. Unknown surroundings, unknown humans, and bet that foot of yours hurt too." She was gently guiding Grey away from her and towards Margaery and the door. "I'm sure those wounds on your leg and shoulder is stinging as well." She kept talking in a calm and gentle tone until the dog stopped growling.

"Atta boy, just breathe, I won't let anyone hurt you." She was holding a palm against the fence letting him get a proper sniff.

Glancing towards Margaery she asked, "do we know his name?"

"His name tag said 'Ghost' which by the looks of him is a very fitting name I'd say."

Grey smiled and nodded.

"Ghost", she whispered. The dog looked up. Didn't care when Marg said your name? "Hmm like my voice, do you?" She couldn't help the smile forming on her lips.

She opened the gate of the pen and took a seat in the corner next to the dog's head. A bold move but a necessary one. For a few tense seconds the dog just laid there looking at her. Then, as if he'd made up his mind about something, he put his head in her lap.

She carefully stroked his head and neck. "I'm so sorry this happened to you and your family," she whispered, "and I promise we're all doing everything we can to make you feel better."

She moved a bit lower so that Ghost was resting his head on her stomach. That way she could rest a bit as well.

Last thing she heard before dozing off was Grey's voice, "How does she do that?"

[spdersilk]

Melancholy

Summary: steve broke up with you several months ago because of the responsibilities of being an Avenger the two of you shared. but that ends up biting him in the ass.

Pairing(s): steve rogers x enhanced!reader

Requests: open!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning(s): bit of angst but still fluffy :)

Note: there’s no set time line here lmao i mentioned nanotech but steve still has his shield so um whoops-

The cool metal pricked Y/N’s skin and she winced, cursing at the artificial accessory. Earrings were never her thing. Wanda had persuaded her into buying a couple pairs just in case an occasion rose. And well, it did.  She carefully slipped the hoop through her piercing and backed away from the mirror. The yellow sundress seemed a little too bright and the nude lipstick seemed a little too...bland. She scrunched her nose. First date in several months and you already look like a tarnished version of Emma Stone on the front cover of Cosmopolitan. She sighed and strapped on her wedges.

The compound had been eerily quiet for the past month. No mission reports. No unaccounted HYDRA bases to investigate. No rogue scientists with a burning passion to end the world. Nothing. It made her skin crawl with anticipation. Y/N eyed her watch with unease. Tony had gifted her the watch last month as an early birthday gift. He had equipped it with nanotech, allowing her quick access to her updated suit.  She latched the small watch onto her wrist. Better safe than sorry.

The kitchen was surprisingly empty. She had anticipated the loud laughter from Sam and Bucky or the quiet chatter between Tony and Bruce. But no one was there. Frowning, she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“Headin’ out?”

Y/N let a small shriek. Steve stood perched against the granite counter. An amused smile adorned his rose colored lips and he cocked his head to the side. Y/N swallowed. It had been several months and she still couldn’t shake off the butterflies.

“I’ve got a date.”

The phrase felt foreign on her tongue. Steve’s expression didn’t change and Y/N couldn’t tell if she was happy with that or not. She thought, after a moment, that it was good. It meant progress. It meant that he had already moved on and that he was okay with this. Whatever this was.Y/N swallowed hard and set the bottle on the counter, avoiding his gaze. She had missed the slight jut in his jaw and shift in posture. She had missed the momentary forlorn expression. She had missed all the clear indications that contradicted her thoughts. Steve cleared his throat.

“It looks like it might rain in a bit. Clouds are lookin’ a bit gray. You might wanna carry an umbrella.”

 Y/N smiled at him fondly, ignoring the sad tug on her heart. Always one to look out for others.

“Thanks but I think I’ll be fine. I should be home by then.”

Steve nodded and it was quiet again. The silence was plagued by awkwardness. Steve’s mind swarmed with half formed regrets. Her yellow sundress reminded him of their first date and how she had yellow frosting on her bottom lip. He recalled her embarrassed laugh when he lightly swiped the frosting from the cupcake away. He remembered having her scarred hands press against his chest as they swayed to the dingy restaurant’s Walkman. He remembered the way her laugh resonated when he whispered about his favorite memories with the Howling Commandos. He remembered the soft kiss she pressed against his cheek and the light squeeze on his bicep when he led her back to her room in the compound. Steve pressed his lips into a fine line.

“Take care.”

Y/N graced him with a small smile before shrugging on a coat. He could feel the familiar rush of blood to his cheeks. He missed her smile. 

“I will.”

Steve turned on his heel, deciding to not let the stuffy silence encompass the two of them again. He had to move on. It was his fault for leaving her after all-

“Ouch!”

“Y/N?”

It appeared as if Y/N’s face was stuck to the strap of her dress and it took a great amount of restraint for Steve to not laugh.

“It’s this goddamn earring. Tell Wanda that she and her earrings can fuck off.” Y/N hissed, frantically trying to free her ear lobe from the cloth.

“Okay okay hold on. You’re gonna get yourself hurt. Let me do it.” 

Steve gently pried her fingers away from her face. Y/N stared at him wide eyed, now aware of how close he was. His fingers ghosted against her cheek momentarily. 

“Got it.” 

His voice was incredibly soft, barely above a whisper. His fingers deliberately brushed her cheek and he momentarily stopped. 

“Steve?”

He didn’t respond, his fingers trailing dangerously close to her lips. The feeling was so familiar,Y/N felt a small tug on her heartstrings and she closed her eyes.  

“Sorry. Just uh-no-sorry.” Steve had seemingly jumped at least three feet back, clasping his hands together. Y/N blinked at the sudden loss of contact. She ducked her head in shame. 

“’s all right.”

Steve watched her leave, swallowing the painful thick lump lodged in his throat.

***

Julian Gilford was nice. He smelled like magnolias and wore a pressed suit, despite the rather colloquial date. He smiled a little too wide and breathed a little too deeply, but he was nice. Y/N played her cards right, smiling at the right moments and laughing at his corny jokes. She tried to like him. She earnestly did. But his hair was a shade too dark for blonde and his build was too lanky and she couldn’t stop herself from comparing Julian to him. Y/N grit her teeth, grasping the menu tightly.

“Are you alright?” Julian peered at her from his menu. She exhaled sharply through her nose. His eyes weren’t the right shade of blue.

“Great! Have you tried the garlic and rosemary foccacia? I heard it’s too die for.” 

And so the rest of the date went like that. Bland references to bland jobs. Y/N had felt terrible. 

“-and I said John, it’s the phone book you’re looking for!” Julian said, clutching his chest as he burst out laughing. Y/N forced a laugh before pausing. Her wrist throbbed with a sudden jolt. Furrowing her eyebrows, she peered at her watch. It began to flash. Incoming. 

“If you’d excuse me.” Y/N nearly bolted towards the bathroom, shoving her ear piece on. 

“Tony? What’s going on?” 

Y/N tapped on the watch. Her black suit spread on her skin  quickly like paint  dripping on a white canvas.

“Phone book puns? Really?” Steve’s voice crackled on the intercom and Y/N froze.

“Have you been eavesdropping on me, Rogers?”

“Not at all ma’am. Just keepin’ a check on the civilians.” There was amusement laced in his voice and Y/N couldn’t hide the smile that began to form on her lips or stop the butterflies in her stomach.

“Nat reported sightings of two HYDRA henchmen with blueprints of some unidentified project. Strike ‘em and grab the papers.” He muttered. Y/N stealthily made her way out of the restaurant.

“Damn, you were right. It’s pouring.” Y/N grumbled, sprinting to the nearest corridor. The pouring rain made it difficult for her to spot the familiar blonde. 

“I warned you. If you listened to me once in a while-”

“Not happening.” She mused before freezing. The familiar tingling in her chest heightened as she etched towards the end of the alley. He must be here. 

“This reminds me of the mission dates we used to go on.” Steve muttered. Y/N held her breath. The intercom was momentarily quiet before she could hear his short breaths.

“Yeah but you’d have always had to have it your way.”

“Maybe-agh-that’s why-umph-we broke-argh-up. Son of a- he doesn’t even have the blue print.” Steve panted. Y/N held her breath. She could almost feel the heat from the HYDRA agent’s body. He must be here now. Quickly, Y/N grabbed the nearby pipe. The figure’s shadow came closer and closer before she could make out his features.

“Julian?!”

“Julian?” Steve echoed in the intercom.

The dirty blonde froze momentarily. Y/N studied his suit, looking for the familiar HYDRA patch before catching it underneath his breast pocket. X Ray illuminated. Y/N grinned, despite the situation. He’s smart.

“You know me?” He asked bewildered and Y/N forgot about the mask her suit came with. Without a second thought, she struck at his sternum before drop kicking him. Taking advantage of his moment of weakness, she pounced onto the nearby light pole and swung herself away. 

“I’ve got it. Where are you?” Y/N huffed. 

“Next to the telephone booth on your left. Is Julian your date?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. She made her way towards the super soldier and tapped twice on the watch. Her sunflower dress now clung to her skin as the rain pounded harder.

“Yeah. You go on a date after several months only to find out he’s a HYDRA agent. What are the odds.” She chuckled, attempting to press herself into the booth. Steve raised his shield above her head and smiled.

“May not be an umbrella but sure as hell works as one.”

 Y/N hummed in response, laying her head on his shoulder. She would have yanked herself away if it weren’t for how calm she felt at that moment.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

Steve felt his throat close up on him. The familiar weight of her head on his shoulder reminded him of their past dates and he felt his heart begin to race. He could smell the jasmine perfume he loved so much. 

“I-” He swallowed, inhaling deeply.

“What do you say we try things out again?”

“What?” She removed her head from his shoulder and glanced up at him. His bright cerulean irises were now dark and heavy with emotions she couldn’t identify.

“I want to do this right. I know it wasn’t right to tell you that we should call things off simply because of our day job. I know I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. I know this seems like I’m just saying this because I’m jealous of you and Julian- which I am not by the way, if you’re happy with him, even though he’s a HYDRA agent-”

“Steve.” Y/N said sternly, placing her hand on his free arm. He shook his head, taking a deep breath.

“What I’m trying to say is. You’re so amazing, Y/N and I’m so dumb for letting you go and God, I just- I am so in love with you.” Steve bent his head down, staring at the wet concrete. He felt the familiar numb feeling of his heart ache. 

“So in love with you it hurts. And I’m so dumb for letting you go” He whispered. Y/N froze. She felt her heart swell and the blood rush to her cheeks. With a shaky hand, she softly cupped his jaw, urging him to look at her. 

“You know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that? It’s been several goddamn months Steven, you took your time.” She quipped and grinned as she watched a small smile form on his lips. Tentatively, she placed her lips on his and hummed. A sense of familiarity flooded her body and she couldn’t help but smile, tugging his body closer to hers. Steve sighed against her mouth, the familiarity of her soft lips easing the ache in his heart. He felt almost drunk with the feeling of her body this close to his. Slowly, Y/N parted away for breath. She felt giddy with the sudden rush of adrenaline. Steve’s swollen lips formed into a smile as he rested his hand on the curve of her hip.

“Are you in the mood for cupcakes?”

“Glad you asked Cap, I was thinking we should hit Clementine’s.”

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Fracture 7/10

Please note that this chapter references torture, drugging and character death. I sobbed some ugly tears writing this. It honestly hurt me

If you like Juyeon, go love on @yoosungshoodie, since Juyeon is her OC. The banner comes from @kiserusmoke!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue | AO3| Masterlist

Three months ago

Nari’s train was running late. She frowned at the timetable, muttering to herself that of course it was . She had chosen to take it as an experiment, one that she was careful to lie to her family and friends about. As far as they knew, she was doing it for the environment, when in reality she was considering selling her car. She doubted she would be unemployed for long, but if that proved to be the case, using the bullet train would be easier on her finances than a car.

She took a seat as she waited for the next train, taking her phone from her pocket. She had been checking the business and job listings of three different news sites and loaded up the first, frowning almost immediately when the page finally loaded.

KOREA’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR: an exclusive interview with the heir to C&R

She could not deny that he was handsome, but the carefully posed photograph inside of his office only added insult to injury. It was difficult not to imagine those stern features dismissing her from C&R.

Nari opened her emails instead, scrolling through the usual spam and lingering over a particularly curious entry.

Paradise awaits you, Nari Song

With a smirk, she opened the e-mail, expecting some kind of shopping coupon or horoscope spam. The actual e-mail was even more cryptic, though, and she read over it several times to try and gauge its meaning.

Don’t you want to escape from this filthy world?

This is an invitation to paradise.

Are you suffering from your past?

We will help the pain go away.

A world filled with pleasure…

A world filled with truth…

A world with no tears….

A world with no rejections…

Accept the angel’s invitation and enter the mysterious messenger.

There was a link at the bottom and Nari clicked it, curious of the messenger and quietly acknowledging the clever marketing at play. No matter how many pretty words an advertisement had, there was no match for a person’s natural curiosity. The appstore entry was equally as vague, listed as the angel’s invitation with no screenshots. Two people before her had offered reviews, claiming their lives were changed as a result of the app, offering no further details than that. Nari read over the page twice before clicking download. She had nothing better to do, after all.

Her train arrived as the app finished downloading and she watched her screen as she gripped the nearest railing. By the first stop, she had created a login and proceeded to the opening screen, which offered no answers either, looking exactly like a messenger platform, with icons for e-mail and some form of texting function. She tapped at each, taking in the empty contact pages and coming to the conclusion that it was some kind of chat room, even if no one appeared to be online.

She was about to put her phone away, deciding to take another look later on, when the screen went blank, displaying green letters of code that she did not recognise.

Three months later

“What foods do you like?” Ray asked, arranging a fresh napkin on a saucer for his guest.

“Hmm?”

Judging from her expression, she was curious of his motives and he couldn’t find it in himself to blame her. The elixir of salvation was, after all, bitter on the senses and he did not want her to suffer any more than was necessary. The very thought of her face crumbling into one of agony left his heart skipping beats and palms clammy.

He had never been able to stand the thought of her coming to harm; had picked her out from hundreds based on that fact alone. She was different to the others: fragile and mysterious and completely out of place in the ordinary world.

“Ah! I’m sorry to ask such a strange question,” he said, “I just wondered if my cooking suited your tastes. If you’d rather something else, I can go and prepare it for you.”

“Oh,” she said, “please don’t worry! Everything here is…”

She gestured at the table, at all of the pastries and soups and other dishes that he had prepared for her.

“This is more than enough.”

“I’m so happy you think so! Although…I must say I am still curious. I’ve never had the chance to cook for someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?”

Ray blushed, realising too late that his words might come across as offensive.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to insult you!”

“You didn’t,” said Nari, her smile softening into one of sympathy. “Hmmm…let me think.”

She never got the chance to tell him, however, for C607 entered the garden and shattered the relative peace.

“Miss Song!” She called, waving and running towards the pavilion as fast as her heels would allow. “Miss Song, good morning!”

C607 had taken to her role as Assistant Park almost too well. Most of the clothes she used when in character came from her own personal collection, which she had abandoned upon her initiation into Mint Eye. The boldness of it made Ray’s toes curl; C607 discarded her beliefs as quickly as her clothes and her love for the paradise was transparently insincere.

“You weren’t in your room,” breathed C607, “I’ve been looking for you.”

She took a seat at the table and helped herself to a cup of coffee, quite deliberately not acknowledging him. He knew it was deliberate; that Miss Park had no reason to interact with him and going out of her way to do so might arouse suspicions, yet he would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him.

“Have you heard from Driver Kim?”

Nari was straight to business and Ray spotted the mean edge to C607’s smile even if she didn’t.

“I spoke to him just a few minutes ago, actually. He’s really sorry about the delay.”

“Is he…” Nari hesitated, thumbs tracing the edge of her cup, “alright?”

“Of course he is! He’s never been better.”

C607 took a sip of her coffee, leaning forward as if to whisper a secret.

“Actually,” she said, “he told me to tell you that we can leave as soon as you finish breakfast.”

Ray pretended he didn’t notice the joy in Nari’s eyes; the way she gulped down the rest of her coffee and dusted crumbs from her lap. He pretended he didn’t notice C607 reaching for her hand and guiding her away from the pavilion; away from him.

And he absolutely pretended he did not see C607 sneering over her shoulder at him.

Nari couldn’t believe her luck any more than she could hide her excitement to go home.

She all but threw her belongings together to the amusement of Juyeon, who lingered in the doorway and pointed out the things she missed.

“At this rate, that Ray guy will think you’re running away from him,” she laughed. “He is a little weird, don’t you think?”

Nari disapprovingly glanced up from her purse.

“He’s a little… enthusiastic,” she said, “but he means well.”

“Haven’t you seen those long lingering looks he gives you? I think he has a crush on you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I’m not being ridiculous! It’s clear to anyone!”

Nari sighed, turning to chastise Juyeon, only to freeze at the sight of her swooping forward with a cloth in her hand. It smelled of something, something sweet and artificial, and she writhed against Juyeon’s grasp, digging her nails into the nearest arm and throwing back her head to try and loosen the one gripping her hair.

She realised it was chloroform only moments before her eyes fell shut and her body limp. She stared at her own outstretched hand, reaching and flailing, convinced she would remember Juyeon’s smile forever.

Jumin’s upcoming wedding had had something of a ripple effect on C&R. For the majority of employees it was gossip; hushed comments and carefully hidden tabloids. For the other select few, it was extra work. Almost overnight, the country had grown fascinated with Nari Song, whether it was the clothes she wore, her origins, the hidden truth of her relationship with Jumin; there was some part of her that intrigued everyone.

Suddenly the PR department had not only the prospect of a scandal to deal with, but weeks of careful research into a person that ordinarily would take months. They needed answers for any given official statement and ideas for how best to build her public image, whether it was denying the engagement came as a result of a pregnancy or scripting her replies to interview questions.

On the receiving end of arguably the highest amount of fallout was one Jaehee Kang, who found herself in an endless cycle of adjusting schedules, advising the PR department, passing on memos and more.

She had come to dread it whenever Jumin called her to his office because it never preceded anything good. This time around was no exception to the rule and she mentally reshuffled all of her recent e-mails and phone calls in an attempt to gauge exactly what Jumin was about to tell her. It seemed almost optimistic to wonder if he had a new pet project in mind.

“Mr Han?” She said, after knocking at his door. “You asked to see me?”

Jumin was in the process of flipping through the pages of one of the files from the mountain at his desk.

“Ah, Assistant Kang,” he said and waved her over, though never looked up from the file. “I have a task for you. It’s of the utmost priority.”

“Of course,” she said, pulling out the notebook she had been keeping her pocket. The constant adjustments and additions and reshuffles were difficult to keep up with at the best of times and she had taken to scribbling them down where possible.

“I need you to make a cancellation.”

“A cancellation,” she said, pen at the ready. “Of which particular appointment?”

“All of them.”

Jaehee glanced up from her notebook.

“P-pardon?”

Surely she had misheard, though that hope rapidly dissolved as he finally set aside the file in his hands.

“Sorry…that was vague,” he said. “I would like for you to cancel everything in regards to my engagement. My regular business appointments may remain the same.”

He said it casually, though Jaehee could only stare. He had finalised the design for the cufflinks he would wear on his wedding day only the night before and cancelling months of work in a single day never happened without a good reason. She wondered if she ought to ask about Nari, though decided against it. If the worst truly had happened, then reminding Jumin of the incident would only make matters worse.

Instead she accepted his task and pulled her phone from her pocket after sitting back down at her own desk.

Nari….is everything okay?

Ray had spent most of the evening and some of the morning preparing dishes for Nari’s breakfast. He had chosen each and every one based on things he had watched her eat through hacked security cameras in the penthouse she called home. He had cast his mind back to mornings in which she made coffee and wrapped her arms around Jumin’s shoulders, stepping up onto her tiptoes for kisses as he picked up his cup. He had remembered chefs entering the premises and anxiously waiting at the side of their dining table until dismissed. He also remembered Nari reaching into the back of the kitchen cupboard for sugary cereal: the same sugary cereal that Jumin occasionally reached for when he ate breakfast alone.

Ray wasn’t sure when exactly he had mentally inserted himself into every situation; cooking Nari pancakes instead of Jumin Han. He was not sure when he had decided she was miserable and only he could make her smile. They were selfish thoughts, out of line with the Saviour’s teachings, but his mind drifted nonetheless.

After Nari left with Juyeon, he returned to the kitchen, sinking his hands into the steaming dishwater and scrubbing each plate at a time. Technically speaking, he did not need to undertake such a task himself. Any given believer would happily have accepted any such order. He wanted to clear his thoughts, though, wanted to scrub the scrub the plates clean where he could not his mind. He wanted to wash away Nari’s happy expression at the prospect of returning home.

He had always condemned Juyeon and her selfishness; her desire for approval more so than paradise. The irony of it was clear to him now that he wanted Nari to smile and laugh for no one but him. He wanted her to smooth the creases out of his shirt, rearrange his tie, rush to greet him when he walked through the door. Even the sting of the hot water could not erase it.

The previous night he had reached for elixir, desperate to quieten his mind and focus. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the dark thoughts at the back of his mind, though. The whispers that repeated everything he did not want to hear.

The saviour will use her to convert Jumin Han.

He scrubbed harder.

She will choose him at the everlasting party

Harder, he scrubbed harder.

Even in paradise, she won’t love you.

He stopped, the water from the sink spilling onto the floor.

You’re wrong, he thought to himself. You’re wrong and I’m not listening to you anymore.

He squeezed his eyes open and shut, reaching to place the dish he had been washing alongside all of the others. There was no dish, though, only his hands; hands that he had so vigorously scrubbed that they were bleeding.

I won’t listen

His squeezed his hands into fists, the sting of his broken skin satisfying on the senses.

I won’t listen.

I won’t

Posing undercover as an acolyte came with an equal amount of perks and downsides. Nobody questioned Jihyun’s ignorance on the matter of their special guest and he found that some believers had curiosities of their own. It was, however, increasingly difficult to continue feigning ignorance. Even as someone outside of the castle for an extended period of time, he should have known which rooms were normally out of bounds. Twice they caught him at the stairwell and twice he lied about his presence there. Finally, on the third attempt, he changed his tactics and told a half truth.

“I want to see her,” he said, shrugging off the believer’s hand on his shoulder. “The Saviour thinks she is special…I want to see it for myself.”

It was a risky move, considering, but ultimately one that paid off. The three of them climbed the stairs to an empty floor, eerily silent to the point that everything they said and did left an echo.

“I heard her ceremony is tonight,” said one of his group, a woman, whose pretty face lay obscured by her hood. “I overheard Mister Ray telling Miss Jenny that the elixir would be ready once he added the final touches.”

Elixir

Just the word sent shivers up his spine. He knew the implications even if he did not the finer details. Jihyun stopped in his tracks, wanting nothing more than to steal Nari away from that terrible place. He opened his mouth to demand they take him to the saviour; to tell them that he was no believer. Before he could, though, footsteps rang out in the empty corridor and his heart skipped a beat.

A handful of other believers were coming towards them, led by a woman in a magenta uniform. He knew her face, despite the fact that he had only seen her on a couple of occasions.

Back when he was still recovering from his eye surgery at Jumin’s penthouse, he had taken every chance to help Nari adjust to her new role. Sometimes that amounted to describing the personality of interviewers or the places she should avoid if she didn’t want to be swarmed by the media. At other times, his help arrived in the form of making tea and reading through the seemingly endless lists of things that needed her attention.

On a few of those occasions, Nari’s assistant had visited the penthouse, though for the most part he only ever encountered her as a disembodied voice on the other end of the phone. The few times he had seen her, she had been clutching bubble tea or informing Nari of appointments added to her schedule at the last moment. He was sure he had seen her at one of his exhibitions too, though the last time he had had one he and Rika were still together, so he was sure he must have been mistaken.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense for Rika to plant someone like her so close to Nari and he wondered exactly how long she had been planning such a move. How long had Juyeon known about Rika’s plans? In any case, he realised that she must have been the ‘Miss Jenny’ the other acolytes had spoken of.

He clenched his hands into fists at what followed her; she led a number of hooded believers, one of whom cradled a body in their arms.

No. Not a body. Nari.

The acolyte held her with the same amount of care one would expect of a ragdoll, allowing one of her arms to dangle to the floor as the other lay crushed against their body.

All he could think about was her laughter all of those months ago. The three of them once played poker; Nari setting down her earrings and Jumin a book from his shelf. He had long wondered what to bet himself and ultimately set down an IOU.

“An IOU?” Jumin had said, examining the paper.

“Yes,” he said. “Whoever wins this can ask one thing of me in the future.”

“That’s potentially dangerous.”

“Are you suggesting either of us would take advantage of him?” Nari had laughed and, beaten, Jumin shuffled the cards.

Unsurprisingly, she won, and Jihyun knew from Jumin’s soft smile as she turned the pages of her new book that he was not the only one who had allowed her to win.

Of late, her laughter only left him guilty. It was his fault that she had been tricked into the apartment; his fault that she lay unconscious in front of him. Every time she laughed, he remembered Jumin’s lips against his own and his own deep, dark need to believe she could not be trusted.

He remembered Jumin’s insistences as they sat on the roof of the penthouse that they tell her about the kiss they had shared. He wanted her to know everything, and it was Jihyun who protested. He hated change, yet wanted everything to. He did not want to hurt her even slightly, yet wanted to steal away everything she held dear.

He was the one who couldn’t be trusted; Nari’s bright smile when she returned to the penthouse only serving as a cruel reminder of his betrayal. She was so eager to know if they had enjoyed the meteor shower and he realised too late her full intentions. It was no coincidence that she had left them alone together; that she had orchestrated everything in the hopes that they would repair their friendship.

He could not bring himself to regret the kiss, but he was sure he would regret the betrayal for the rest of his life.

“Juyeon,” he called, dragging down the hood of his cloak.

She seemed surprised that anyone had called out to her by name, though the shock left her as soon as she saw him standing there.

“Let her go,” he said, gaze drifting from her to Nari, his trembling hands breaking any illusion of composure.

“Well, well, well,” said Juyeon, approaching him in the same slow, practised fashion a tiger might. “What have we here?”

They took him to a cell in the basement. Jihyun knew from observations and conversations with acolytes that up until recently, such a thing was rarely done; it was the norm to take prisoners and any intruders before the saviour until they were cleansed and no longer deemed dangerous or, alternatively, died in captivity. For him to be isolated so quickly meant only one thing: he was considered an enemy of the organisation and if Rika came to see him at all, it would be to announce whatever torture she had in mind for him.

The guards draped a hood over his head that smelled mouldy, as if it was designated for drownings, and he choked at the smell as they pushed his shoulder to get him moving. They probably only walked down a couple of short flights of stairs, but it felt like he walked for miles. Finally, the guard tugged the cloak from his head and kicked him into the back of his new prison, locking it behind them with a mutter that they would come back once they had received orders.

“Come back and let me out of here,” Jihyun threw his body against the bars. “Tell the saviour to come!”

They did not acknowledge him, though, no matter how hard he shook the bars. He slumped to the floor despairingly, considering Nari’s limp body in the acolyte’s arms. In retrospect everything was obvious to him; he should never have suspected her, should never have fallen into the trap of questioning her intentions solely because she had won the heart of his friend. He should have told her everything from the beginning instead of succumbing to jealousy.

He wondered if he would ever get the chance to explain her current circumstances; if he would ever be able to take her hands in his and explain how he had kissed Jumin on the roof of the penthouse. The latter scared him most of all and he could not bear to imagine her reaction. In his heart, she would always be happy and smiling, brewing good coffee and pouring bad wine. She would always be the one who laughed at his double entendres and scolded him for missing meals.

And in that moment, just like Ray before him, he realised his love for her like a storm cloud overhead.

“M….Mathter V, thir,” someone mumbled in the adjoining cell, dragging him out of his thoughts. He peered into the darkness to make out the owner and gasped when he saw.

“Driver Kim!”

This was not the Driver Kim of days past, however. This man drooled blood and had cuts across his temples.

“What happened to you?” Jihyun said, holding onto the bars that separated them. “Who did this?”

Driver Kim’s eyes glazed over at the memory and Jihyun regretted asking him.

“I’ll get you out of here,” said Jihyun, seeing the occupants of the other cells for the first time. He recognised them all; had seen their faces in Luciel’s files. They were all members of the agency and all MIA. The ones that weren’t unconscious groaned in pain at their injuries, some even chained to the floor of their cell.

“I’ll save you,” Jihyun muttered. “I’ll save you all.”

Somehow.

Nari’s senses were muffled when she opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought she was back in the penthouse and half expected Jumin to be beside her.

It came as something of a surprise when she found herself tied to a chair in a strange room, arms bound behind her back and someone, whose voice she only half recognised, muttering that she was waking up.

Nari lifted her head, instantly regretting it as a sharp headache flooded her senses. She hissed with pain, leaning over until she could see straight ahead before making a second attempt to sit up.

Juyeon was standing on the other side of the room… or at least she thought it was Juyeon. This Juyeon had on a strange magenta uniform with a rose fixed to her blazer. What’s more, even though that Juyeon stared her in the face, there was no hint of recognition in her features.

“Ju…Juyeon?”

Juyeon did not reply. It was someone else who reached for her face: someone with sharp nails and a black mask that obscured their features.

“Welcome to paradise, Nari Song.”

They reached to clamp their hand down over her nose, clutching a vial of a bright blue liquid in the other. Nari clenched her mouth shut, unable to tear her eyes away from Juyeon, who watched her struggle without a reaction. Beside her stood Ray, who fiddled with his hands and avoided her gaze.

Her chest burned and she gasped for air, giving her assailant the opportunity to force the bottle against her lips. The liquid inside was bitter, burning her throat and insides, through when she tried to spit it out the masked stranger slammed her hand over her lips, forcing them shut until she had no choice but to swallow.

“What have you….done to me?” She asked, trying to spit out the remainder of the liquid, stomach churning so forcefully that she was sure she was going to throw up.  

“Please,” she murmured, the shakiness of her hands transferring into her voice. “Let me go.”

“Don’t look so sad,” they said, so close that their breath was warm against her face. “I would never hurt someone so precious to Ray.”

Nari’s heart skipped a beat and Ray called out from the other side of the room.

“Saviour-”

“You may leave.”

Nari’s thoughts had been muddled and confused even before having a chemical forced down her throat and she dug her nails into her palms in an attempt to stop the room spinning. She remembered Juyeon’s words only a short time earlier:

At this rate, that Ray guy will think you’re running away from him. He is a little weird, don’t you think?

Haven’t you seen those long lingering looks he gives you? I think he has a crush on you.

As Ray and Juyeon left the room, Ray’s hands twitching and his expression one of concern, Nari could not help but think about how comforting it was that at least one part of her stay had been real. Perhaps it was the drug, or her own fear, but when the door closed it echoed in her senses. What was going to happen to her now? She wished Juyeon and Ray would just come back, for even if their intentions were far from pleasant, she would at the very least recognise their faces. There was something strange about their ‘saviour’; a kind of familiarity that she did not understand.

“You have such beautiful eyes,” said the saviour, “I can see why Jumin favours you.”

Nari’s heart skipped a beat.

“What do you know about Jumin?”

“I know that Jumin is the CEO in-line,” said the saviour. “I know that he prefers the finer things in life… Egyptian cotton, aged whiskeys…intelligent women. Most importantly, I know that he wouldn’t let just anybody into his inner circle. Tell me, how do you find my RFA?”

Up until that point, C&R was the most obvious reason she had been kidnapped. She had, of course, forgotten that without enemies to the RFA she might never have arrived in the apartment all of those months ago.

“ Your RFA?” She said, realisation rapidly sinking in.

She finally understood why the masked woman looked familiar. Even with the mask on, her resemblance to the girl in V’s photographs was obvious.

“No,” said Nari. “You- you’re dead!”

“That’s what V told you,” said Rika, “and you must not believe his lies.”

Nari was not so naive as to think V had never lied to or kept information from her. She had watched him play poker, after all. He had an excellent poker face even as he let her win.

“I’m sure he had his reasons.”

“It seems he has already poisoned you,” laughed Rika. “I wonder what sweet promises he whispered in your ear to make you trust him so much.”

“He didn’t whisper anything! I know he’s a good man.”

Rika sighed, clearly unimpressed with her answer.

“Tell me Miss Song,” she said softly, placing a hand on Nari’s shoulder, “what are you afraid of? Shall I guess?”

“I…no…I-”

“Hmmmm,” Rika searched her face. “You stayed with the RFA even after there was no need for you to. You attend every meeting Jumin asks of you… could it be?”

She smiled cruelly, sending shivers down Nari’s spine.

“Are you afraid of being alone?”

Suddenly Nari was fourteen again, sticking pictures of idols she did not even like to the inside of her locker. Rika pressed a finger against her lips, coming to a conclusion before she could confirm or deny it.

“Sssssh, it’s okay,” she said. “In this place, no one will leave you. We will be kinder to you than the RFA. Nobody here will dictate how you dress or what you eat. We will not lie to you or ignore you, like Jumin and the rest of the RFA.”

Nari thrashed, eager to shake off Rika’s touch.

“I LOVE Jumin,” she protested. “I want to make him happy.”

Even as she said it, she knew how it sounded. She would not have believed her either.

“You’re very kind,” said Rika. “And so simple minded. What makes you so sure that he cares for you?”

Ordinarily, Nari would have been offended by such an insinuation. Ever since news of her engagement went public, she had scowled at so many articles about the status of her private life that Jumin had stroked her hair and warned her that she would age prematurely. Now, though, all she could think about was the clatter of her engagement ring against the kitchen tiles and Jumin’s words on the messenger.

Perhaps I only loved you because I thought you were something more. Perhaps you were always meant to be a stranger to the RFA. I think… that if I had not proposed to you so publicly, in such a way, I might never have married you.

Every breath left her mind and body fluttering, as if she bobbed up and down on a stormy sea. She hated herself and her own naivety. How had she never realised that she was being manipulated? How had she allowed herself into such a situation?

“He loves me!” She spat, closing her eyes. She refused to believe Jumin’s affection was a dream; just another stain in her ivory tower.

Rika seemed delighted by her responses, reaching out a finger to catch her tears.

“Jumin…loves me,” said Nari, more to herself than to Rika. “He loves me.”

He loves me.

She remembered Sarah Choi’s horrified expression as he leaned in for their first kiss; a kiss that tasted of pancakes and gave her butterflies.

She remembered how her hand trembled when he fell to one knee at the party.

She remembered the scent of roses against her skin as he sat behind her in the bathtub to wash her back.

He loves me .

She also remembered his expression in their last argument; the sound of him moving around the kitchen as she waited for him to knock on her bedroom door.

He loves me

He loves

He

She repeated it even as everything went black and her head lolled over onto her chest.

“Don’t worry,” said Rika, stroking her hair. “I’m not the same as them. I want you exactly as you are.”

She cupped a hand around Nari’s face, feeling for her breath against her skin. She had made such a powerful elixir and many people were not strong enough to survive the ordinary batches. Those that did came out transformed, butterflies from a painful chrysalis, wiser for their introduction into the truth of the world.

Nari’s breaths did not come, however. Rika’s hand remained as cold as it had always been. With a frown, she pressed her fingers against the other woman’s neck, feeling for a pulse where there was none.

She let go of Nari’s head, then, sighing deeply and crossing the room to pour herself a cup of tea.

Perhaps they were not so similar after all.

Three months earlier

[drnikolatesla]

Since you are running out of new things to discuss after years of doing so, I am not sure if you already discussed Tesla's influence on both current science, science fiction and pop culture. But I would surely love to hear your input.

This is a good question. Even though Tesla has been pushed under the rug throughout history, he’s definitely making a comeback. I think the internet can be thanked for this, and without Tesla the internet would probably be far less advanced than it is today so the thanks goes back to Tesla. But his influence on science, science fiction and pop culture is definitely there.

Science and Sci-Fi: So whether or not Tesla is given credit on certain matters in the two you can probably track the influence back to Tesla. As far as electrical science goes, he is literally one of the biggest influences in modern world and modern technology. He invented dozens of original apparatuses and has hundreds of patents around the world. The most substantial is his discovery of the rotating magnetic field which led to the development of his alternating current system and induction motor. A very large percentage of our power systems around the world rely directly on this discovery and invention, without which we wouldn’t be living the comfortable lives we are living today. I think we all take this for granted. Tesla also invented the “Tesla Coil” which is used in everyday radio technology. He had major contributions in the medical world being a key figure in X-ray technology. Not only did he helped advance it, but he help make it less harmful. He was also the father of remote control and wireless technology which is making a big impression on today’s tech. Tesla’s goal was to improve technology, make it more efficient and easier to use, and less expensive. I posted a blog yesterday about other scientists who received Nobel prizes for their work which Tesla preceded them in. These scientists are remembered today in all science and history books, while Tesla received the short end of the stick. Today’s science should be thankful for him.

As to sci-fi, Tesla was one of the key influences during the twentieth-century. When Tesla would break free from his scientific mind and look towards the future, he would think up the craziest ideas about what the future has in store for us, and waa all based off his work and inventions. I’m talking faster than light interplanetary communication, a giant ring/bridge/headquarters around earth which just floats there while the globe rotates so people can travel the world, an artificial aurora borealis to light the night sky if needed, fueless planes and ships that travel over 3,000 mph, weather control, A device to read mind or record thoughts, the creation, transformation and control of matter, and the one he’s most remembered for… His particle beam weapon. In one of the first Superman cartoons the villain is the “Mad Scientist” which is actually Tesla and his particle beam weapon. You should check out the episode. It’s kinda funny. Also, a friend of Tesla named Hugo Gernsback, one of the fathers of sci-fi, was the first to start a sci-fi magazine which utilized tons of Tesla’s work and ideas. I believe a lot of today’s sci-fi can be led back to Tesla’s ideas.

Pop culture: Since I’m a Tesla fanatic, lol, I tend to find Tesla related things all the time in pop culture. My girlfriend hates it because I’m always referring to him. It’s like the saying “The Simpsons did it!” That’s me but with Tesla haha. But wiki does a good job with this question. Here’s a link: Nikola Tesla in pop culture.

Sorry if I made this post a little long. I’m sure if i went back over my blog posts I could find more info and be writing all day. But thanks for the great question! Have a nice day!

[everlarkficexchange]

When There's Nothing To Lose

Written by: @nancymay

Prompt 26: “A drabble where Peeta is from the Seam and Katniss is a Merchant but he’s still the one with the crush.” Prompt from anonymous, submitted to the Everlark Fic Exchange by @titaniasfics

Triggers: None

Rated : K

Summary: With only a few days to go before he starts work in the mine, Peeta decides it’s his last chance to get to know Katniss a little better.

Disclaimer: Clearly Suzanne Collins is the creator of all the Hunger Games references in this..

Peeta lay on his back, hidden amongst the long grass of the meadow, just enjoying the summer day. He was trying to store it up in his memory, the iridescent blue of the cloudless sky, the fresh yellow of the buttercups dotted amongst the grass. Despite being surrounded by one of the most beautiful sights district 12 had to offer he let out a deep sigh. Even he couldn’t help but feel sad at the thought that this time next week he’d be working down the mine, 12 hour long shifts, deprived of light and colour. Assuming he made it through his final reaping on Sunday of course.

He shook his head to try to clear the doom away and let his eyes follow the course of a lapwing riding the breeze. As his ears strained to hear its song he picked up another sound, female voices arriving in the meadow. Peering through the grass, he grinned broadly. See, life wasn’t so bad after all, not when it offered up the sight of Katniss Everdeen. He rolled over onto his stomach to watch what was going on.

Katniss was accompanied by her younger sister, Prim, and her best friend Madge. Each of them carried a large archery bow and a quiver of arrows slung over their shoulder. Madge and Katniss were also carrying a target between them.

“This is really going to teach me poise and grace?” Katniss asked sounding doubtful.

“Probably not,” Madge laughed back, “but it’s got to be more fun than spending another hour walking up and down with books on our heads.”

They set the target up near the fence at the edge of the meadow, where it met the forbidden woods.

“You go first Madge; show us how it’s supposed to be done.”

Madge showed her friends how she’d been taught to stand with her legs wide, back straight, concentrating on the bullseye. She pulled back the drawstring until it met her lips and let the arrow fly.

It hit the edge of the target, within the second circle, making Madge dance with delight.

Prim struggled with the bow. It took more strength than she had to pull the arrow back and hold it steady. It flew up into the air before the string was taut and landed short of the target. Prim just laughed, she hadn’t expected this was going to be her thing.

Katniss took it seriously; she loved a challenge.

Peeta’s breath hitched in his throat as he watched her tuck the sides of her skirt up into her pants to give her more freedom of movement. She planted her feet wide, showing off her toned legs and pert backside. In one smooth movement she raised the bow, pulling the arrow back to meet her full mouth, licking her lips in concentration. Peeta groaned, his head dropping as he endeavoured to stop the less than pure thoughts she aroused in him. He’d had a crush on Katniss Everdeen, the apothecary’s daughter, for what seemed like forever. His childhood fixation had never quite been left behind, despite knowing that someone like him, a boy from the seam, could never have a hope of any sort of real relationship with a merchant’s daughter.

Just as she was releasing the arrow, Katniss caught the movement in the grass at the edge of her vision, causing her to veer away from the target. The arrow flew straight and fast, missing the board as it sailed on towards the trees. There was a soft thud followed by a moments hushed disbelief before Prim started to cry. By some fluke, Katniss had managed to miss the artificial target, but had killed a squirrel that had snuck over into the meadow to forage. The arrow lodged straight through its eye.

“Oh, the poor thing,” sobbed Prim, rushing over to the small furry creature.

“Don’t touch it Prim,” warned Madge, “It might be diseased.”

Katniss went over and gently picked up her victim. “Well, looks like squirrel steaks are on the menu for someone tonight,” she shrugged.

“How can you joke about it, the poor creature,” Prim protested.

“It’s not like you don’t eat meat, Prim. It’s more honest to go out and catch your dinner yourself, than have it presented all nicely cooked and flavoured. This is where it comes from.” Katniss held out the squirrel for Prim to get a good look at the reality of being a carnivore.

“Well, I can’t eat him, I was just watching him nibbling on an acorn before you spoiled his day with an arrow through the eye.”

Katniss offered the squirrel to Madge. “No thanks, I don’t think it would go down well if I brought that home from my deportment lesson.”

She looked across the meadow, and started towards Peeta’s hollow.

“What about you?”

He screwed up his face at the realisation he had been discovered. This was going to be awkward.

“I know there’s somebody there, you put me off my aim, so I think you have a claim on the kill.”

Peeta stood up slowly, raising his hands in surrender to Katniss as she stalked towards him.

“Oh,” she faltered, “Peeta, it’s you…”

He was surprised she could remember his name outside of their usual context.

“Sorry for messing up your shot, I was just having a quiet moment before you all arrived,” he lowered his tone conspiratorially, making her lean a little closer to hear, “it’s one of my hiding places.”

Katniss felt a delicious shiver go through her as his breath met her skin, and backed away from the shockingly pleasant sensation. “Sorry if we were disturbing your peace. There’s not many places you can get away from the demands of life in District 12 are there?”

They shared a smile at that. Town or seam, district 12 didn’t give any one much time to themselves.

“Would you like this squirrel. Good meat, shame to let it go to waste.”

It seemed too much to take from her, but he’d heard the discussion between the friends, and it would be nonsense to turn down the offer of a meal.

“Thank you,” he took the squirrel gratefully, “This might even save me from the wrath of my mother, if I come home bearing food.”

“You should definitely have it then.” Peeta’s mother’s temper was legendary even amongst the merchant families. It was only as Katniss turned back to her friends and went to rub her hands on her skirt, that she realised just how much of her legs she had exposed by tucking it into her pants. She quickly straightened out her dress as she walked away from Peeta, hoping he had been too distracted by the squirrel to have noticed.

Peeta couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across his face as he made his way home to the seam. He committed to memory the vision of Katniss, silhouetted by the long rays of the evening sun as she walked away from him; that would be something to help get through the dark days in the mine next week.

He allowed himself to enjoy this moment, the sky was turning from blue to his favourite sunset orange as the sun went down. The miners were returning from the pit, the voices of the men singing as they came home carried in the clear air; another day survived, another reason to be thankful.

He remembered his father singing, he’d had a rich, deep baritone that thrummed out of his chest. In Peeta’s memory, he had always been singing, as he washed the coal dust out of his skin as best he could, as he tended the small patch of ground they had by their front door, trying to grow something edible out of the barren soil. The house had lost its music since he was killed in the pit explosion.

The house was now filled by the silent anger that surrounded his mother. Youngest of the tailor’s three daughters, it had been a major scandal when she fell pregnant to a miner. She had been hastily married out of the town and into the life of the seam. It was a much harder life than she’d imagined and with her husband gone, there was little left now that could bring her any joy.

He lingered by the door, wondering whether it would be better or worse if he waited to come in with his brothers. Probably best to just get it over with, he took a deep breath and went in to find his mother waiting with her arms folded across her chest.

“Good Evening,” he greeted her cheerily.

“The sooner you’re put to use down the mine the better,” she replied bitterly, smothering his bright spirits. “Don’t think I don’t know where you’ve been. Day dreaming in the meadow again; probably over on the other side of the fence too, risking our family’s good name. It’s about time you realised there’s more than yourself to think about if the Peacekeeper’s catch you.”

He wasn’t going to let her spoil today though, raising his voice so he would be heard above her rant, he held out the squirrel. “I caught this today at the edge of the woods. I thought I could make a stew.”

“Oh…” for once his mother was lost for what to say but her stomach rumbled loudly in response. It had been a few days since they’d had any meat and a long time since anything but wild dog had been on the menu.

Peeta poured a glass of water for his mother and sat her at the table whilst he set about preparing the meal. Skinning the squirrel, he found the arrowhead still lodged in the creature’s eye. He rinsed it off, and wrapped it in a clean cloth, for safe keeping in his pocket. Using some herbs and vegetables he had managed to grow in his father’s garden, Peeta turned the squirrel into the best meal the family could remember. With stomach’s for once satisfied, a rare moment of peace settled on the Mellark house.

x-x-x-x-x

The next day was Friday, two days to go until the reaping. With his name on 42 of the slips of paper in the reaping bowl, Peeta was far from complacent but he knew by now there was no point worrying over something he had no control over, so he planned to spend the day doing the things he loved best. One way or another, on Monday he’d have less freedom, so he’d try to store up all the good memories he could before those parts of his life were taken away from him.

He got up early, and ducked under the boundary fence, heading into the woods to spend the day gathering plants for Mrs Everdeen. The medicines officially sold in the apothecary all came from the Capitol and had to be sold at Capitol prices. But one night, many years before, when his father was still alive, his brother had a fever that just wouldn’t come down. All they had to treat him with was damp cloths. Ice was even a luxury they couldn’t afford. His father had begged his mother, and at last she swallowed her pride and slunk back to the town to ask for help. Mrs Everdeen had come and, after carefully examining his brother, described the plants she needed Peeta to go out and find. These were made into a tea, and soon the fever was under control. After that he had often seen her, sometimes joined by Katniss or Prim, visiting the miners’ houses in the evenings. He had stopped by the apothecary one day when he’d found a large patch of the plants that reduced fever and a regular exchange had been set up whereby she would describe the plants she needed and Peeta would bring them for her. He always received something for his trouble; some ointment or maybe one of Prim’s goat cheeses. But the best reward for Peeta was being able to speak to Katniss when she was manning the shop. Their conversations were always strictly business but if their hands brushed together as they made their exchange it felt like electricity.

It turned out to be an excellent day for plant collecting, and Peeta whistled to himself as he made his way to the main square of District 12, where the apothecary store stood in a prime spot, directly across from the Justice Building. The bell rang as he went in. Prim was serving an older lady, clearly one of the town folk, he could tell by her dark hair and olive-toned skin, but primarily by the fact she had reached an age few from the seam would ever see.

Peeta always waited until the shop was empty before making a trade. What the Everdeen’s did to help the people of the seam wasn’t illegal, but it might be frowned upon as taking away from Capitol trade. The bell rang again as someone came in behind him. This could be a long wait. Having finished with her customer, Prim weighed up what to do and decided to take matters into her own hands.

“Peeta, would you like to go through to the back?” she indicated a door Peeta had never been invited through before. “My sister will look at your problem in private, whilst I see to Mr Cartwright.”

He couldn’t believe his luck, a private consultation with Katniss Everdeen!

Just for the hell of it, he decided to put on a dramatic limp to support Prim’s story. Winking at her as he passed, she barely managed to stifle her giggle before turning to Mr Cartwright.

The door led straight into what looked like a kitchen, but it was heavy with the scent of various herbs and flowers hung to dry in bunches from the ceiling. Katniss was startled by his entrance and looked up from her work, grinding a mixture of herbs.

Peeta limped heavily into the room, dragging his foot along the ground. She crossed quickly over to give him her shoulder to lean on, wrapping her arm gently around his waist to give him more support.

“Peeta, what’s happened?” She guided him into a chair, her eyes hovering between his face and his leg.

“Are you in pain? Can I take a look at it for you?” her cheeks reddened attractively as she offered.

“Well..” he couldn’t resist it, today was a day with nothing to lose, “if you’re sure you don’t mind?”

He unfastened his belt and lowered his trousers as Katniss watched biting her lip, her face growing a darker red by the second.

She knelt before him, her hands hovering over his leg. “So, what happened?”

She looked up at him with so much concern in her beautiful grey eyes that he couldn’t carry this on any more.

“It started just now in the shop, when Prim said I should come back here for a private consultation.”

Katniss’ brow furrowed in confusion.

He couldn’t help but laugh, “I was just putting it on for Mr Cartwight’s benefit.”

“Peeta!”

Katniss stood up immediately, her embarrassment quickly turning to fury.

“So you’re making fun of me?”

“No, no… but… it was kind of funny.”

Avoiding his face, her eyes wandered down to his naked thighs, and his well filled undershorts.

“Oh” she forced herself to look away. “Ok,” she faltered, “but the joke’s over now so I think you better make yourself decent again.”

Peeta couldn’t help but think how pretty the notoriously cool Katniss was when she was flustered, and loved that he had been able to make her feel that way.

He pulled his pants up again and buckled his belt, noticing that Katniss kept her back to him all the while. It was funny really, she must have seen plenty of naked bodies working with her mother, surely his legs couldn’t be such a shock to her.

Once he was properly dressed again, Katniss joined him at the table. Still bristling, she batted him on the arm with a scowl. “I was really worried about you,” she scolded.

Peeta wasn’t used to anyone caring much about what happened to him, as long as he stayed healthy enough to start working in the mines next week. “Sorry,” he spoke to the floor, “I didn’t mean to trouble you.”

There was an awkward silence between them now, and Peeta cursed himself for spoiling his chance to have more than a four-sentence conversation with Katniss.

He returned to business as usual, opening his gathering bag, which was filled to the brim with plants.

“I hope your mother can use all this, it seems to have been a good year for harvesting, just the right amount of rainfall and sunshine I guess,” he rambled.

“Wow,” Katniss exclaimed, “that is quite a haul.”

“And with an injured leg and all,” she added, smiling shyly and hoping he understood she meant there was no hard feeling over his joke.

Her smile instantly lifted his mood again, and he started to tell Katniss about the day he’d had out in the woods hunting down the plants that could be used for healing. “If only I could do something like that for a living, it really would be the best job in the world.” He stopped with a gulp, realising it wasn’t the done thing to speak out loud about wanting anything other than the Capitol’s plan.

But Katniss didn’t seem to have noticed anything amiss in what he said. She had rested her cheek on her hand, gazing wistfully as she listened to the description of what was out there beyond the fence. “I’d love to see that lake,” she sighed.

Only one more day lay between Peeta and the reaping, two more until his life as a miner began in earnest and then there would be no time for this. It was now or never.

“I could take you with me tomorrow, if you like?”

She gazed back at Peeta, taking in his audacious offer. She longed to see the world Peeta had painted so vividly with his words, but…

“Isn’t it dangerous out there?” she asked trying to weigh up if she really had the nerve to go through with this.

“You could bring your bow and arrow,” Peeta joked with her. “It’s really not as bad as they say, especially in the day time. If you make a lot of noise it frightens the animals away, they’re just as afraid of us as we are of them.”

The tone of his voice seemed to put her mind at ease; and she really didn’t have any reason not to trust him.

“O.k., I’ll do it, I’ll come with you tomorrow.”

x-x-x-x-x

Peeta hardly slept that night, his body too alive with a mixture of nerves and excitement. He could hardly believe that after so many years of admiring her from a distance, he was now going to have a whole day to spend with Katniss. Who would have thought he could be so lucky?

His face lit up as she came to meet him in the meadow, just as the sun rose above the tree tops. He had seriously doubted whether she would arrive, but she hadn’t even kept him waiting. She was dressed in a smart pair of figure hugging tan trousers and a shiny pair of green leather boots.

“Nice boots” he commented to break the ice.

She smiled and posed her feet. “Thanks, I never had a good reason to wear them before.”

“Well today’s the day!” He kept to himself the thought that her feet were going to have serious blisters.

As he crashed through the undergrowth, sounding like ten men, Katniss understood why the wild cats and dogs stayed away. He looked back over his shoulder at her, picking her way, carefully watching where she placed her feet. With a broad grin he reached out his hand for her to take, wrapping his fingers tightly around hers he gave a light tug, “It’s ok, I’ve got you, I won’t let anything bad happen.”

She raised her eyebrows, “That’s a big promise to make.”

“I’ve got my own personal healer with me today, between us we should be ok.”

They walked on, Peeta showing Katniss the places where he found certain plants and which ones were good to eat.

After about an hour Katniss had gone suspiciously quiet. Another half an hour and she asked how far it was to the lake.

“Just a few more miles,” he reassured. He had noticed she was limping a little but was waiting to see if she was going to mention the boots.

“There’s a good place to rest just here.” He decided he’d have to help her out.

“How’re the new boots?”

She scowled as she sat down on a fallen tree trunk. “They’re killing me, but I really don’t want to stop.” Katniss hated to be seen as weak in any way.

She undid her boots and moaned with relief, “Oh that’s good.”

Peeta blushed at the sound of her, the kind of sound she made in his dreams.

“Maybe you could try …”

He went off into the trees and returned with some leaves.

“Cover the blisters with this before you put your socks back on, it’s soothing.”

He started unlacing his own boots, well softened from years of use.

Katniss watched as he removed his socks and passed them to her.

“Put them on, over yours, it will help.”

“Thanks,” she reluctantly accepted his offer, knowing she wasn’t going to make it far if she didn’t let him help her.

They pushed on, until eventually Katniss noticed the ground seemed to be sloping downwards, and then she caught a glimpse of the light shining on the water through the trees.

“The lake!” she couldn’t contain her excitement.

He nodded watching her face light up at the sight.

The water seemed to draw them in, until they stood side by side at the edge where small waves lapped at the muddy banks.

Katniss bent down to dip her hands in, letting the water pour through her fingers. “It smells fresher than the water from our taps. Is it safe to drink?”

Peeta nodded again, enjoying her reactions to this place he loved so well.

Katniss and Peeta drank and splashed their faces, which ended up in throwing water over each other.

“How deep does it get?” Katniss asked, clearly tempted to get further immersed.

“More than deep enough to drown in in the middle,” he warned before she got too carried away, “but if you stay close to the edge you could paddle those sore toes a little.”

They sat and took their boots off together, lining them up side by side. There was something about how that looked that made Peeta feel a strange warmth inside.

Katniss rolled up her trouser legs and dipped her feet in. She held her hand out for Peeta and they waded out up to their knees, gazing out across the water to the unending forest of trees beyond.

“Just imagine living out here” Katniss sighed, “It could work you know, there’s plenty to eat and drink, plants to treat your ailments, shelter amongst the trees.”

“I’ve thought about that plenty of times,” Peeta confessed, “I could just go out collecting one day and never come back.”

Katniss wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that though, “That sounds too sad. Could you really do that, leave your family behind?”

“Maybe… I don’t know as they’d miss me that much; but you’re right, it wouldn’t be fair. Can you imagine how fuming my mother would be if I went and got myself lost in the woods and never made it back for her to kill me herself!”

Katniss laughed and splashed some more water up at him.

It was the most perfect day of Peeta’s life, one he never wanted to end. The more he got to really know Katniss the more he felt his heart would never be his own again. But the sun was lowering in the sky and they still had a long walk home.

Katniss was leaning against him, weaving together some reeds to take home as proof for Prim she had really seen a lake. He gave her a gentle nudge, “Better get back before the peacekeepers come. They usually put the fence back on for reaping day.”

Katniss had felt so warm and contented, she had forgotten about the reaping.

She banged her fist into the ground. “I hate what they do to us. I wish there was some way we could change things.”

“I know,” Peeta sighed. There were an awful lot of things he wished he could change; that today wasn’t just the one off it had to be, that they could do this again, that they could be friends, that one day he could put his arms around her and ask her to be his girl. But none of that was the reality of the world they lived in, and if there was one thing his mother had taught him it was that nothing good ever came of his dreaming.

Katniss groaned as she put her boots back on. “Sorry feet, that’s the end of your freedom.”

She put out her hands for Peeta to pull her up and they found themselves suddenly close, face to face still holding hands.

“Thank you for today,” she murmured, unable to take her gaze from his kind blue eyes.

“Any time Katniss,” he smiled back, suddenly shy. “I really enjoyed spending time with you.”

He wanted so much to lean in and kiss her, but couldn’t bear the thought of spoiling the moment, so he gave her hands a quick squeeze and let go.

The mood was quieter on the way home even if Peeta’s feet weren’t. Eventually Peeta asked if Katniss knew any good songs to break the silence. To his surprise she sang the miners’ song, the one they sang as they came back from the pit every evening. In her voice it sounded sweeter, with a whole new message of hope, not just relief to have survived another day. She wouldn’t accept his praise though and so he started a game with them making up new words to the tunes of the old songs, just so he could keep hearing her voice.

They ran out of songs as the light dimmed and they neared the fence. The realities of life in District 12 creeping in between them as they approached. They had been holding hands, but let go to duck back under the fence. And there they were, back in the meadow, just like they had been two days ago, a merchant girl and a boy from the seam, not quite sure how to act around each other.

“Thanks again Peeta.”

“You’re welcome again Katniss.”

“I’ll maybe see you at the reaping.”

“I’ll keep my eye out for you.”

“Good Luck…”

“And you.”

She reached up to press a kiss against his cheek and before he could take in the shock she had turned and started to run towards the town.

When he couldn’t see her anymore, Peeta turned in the opposite direction, towards the seam, his heart ready to burst out of his chest.