#BECAUSE IN PLUTO YOU CAN STILL HEAR SCREAMS OF LOVE ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tenswrld · 3 years

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old enough to understand

mark lee x reader, childhood friends to lovers, fluff

summary: now that you’re older, you seem to finally understand how mark makes you feel

a/n: came up with this at 2am while listening to my mark lee dedicated playlist and pluto projector came on and u already know that one part made me emotional also do u like my doodles i made on the photo ^^

growing up, you were surrounded by the concept of love. you witnessed it with your parents, when you got your first pet, and even when you took your first bite into your favorite fruit.

when you first met mark lee at the age of 6, you didn’t think that the word love would apply to him. at least, not in the way that you knew it.

“no! it’s mine, i don’t want to give you any!” the young boy yelled.

“you can just go get more! i just want some watermelon!” you screamed back.

“go get some yourself!”

angry, you stomped away towards the table of adults. “mrs. lee, mark won’t give me a piece of his watermelon.”

the older woman laughed softly before getting up and leading you to the table of fruit. “forgive him, watermelon is his favorite. i’ll be sure to make sure he shares next time, okay?”

while you ate your own fruit alone in the grass, mark came up to you scratching his neck awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “i’m sorry for being rude...i just really like watermelon...”

you narrowed your eyes at him before bursting into a fit of giggles, offering your own watermelon out to him. “it’s okay, mark, i like watermelon too. i understand.” he took the piece that you held out to him and took a seat next to you.

when you first met mark, you didn’t think anything of him except for that he was the dorky boy next door who seemed to reserve the concept of love for his favorite fruit.

in middle school, you and mark seemed to clash heads more often than not, and you found it hard to stick around him. desperate to seem cool in front of the new friends that he made, mark steered away from you and teased you whenever he saw you in the halls. you almost despised him in your middle school years, but no matter how much teasing he did mark always waited for you outside of the school gates and walked you home safely.

though he was still unsure of the role you had in his life, mark knew that he wanted to keep you around.

in high school, your parents fantasized about the idea of the two of you dating, but you and mark always recoiled at the thought. friend groups and social status set you and mark even further apart and before you knew it you became a messenger to girls who wanted mark to call their own. when you got your first boyfriend in sophomore year, mark tried to warn you that the guy was no good, but like always you never listened to him. when he broke your heart, you expected mark to scold you and tell you he told you so, but he provided you comfort in his arms instead.

though he didn’t love you then, mark vowed that he would never let your heart get broken again.

when it came time for you and mark to go off to college, you found yourself a lot more upset than you had initially thought you would be. you were excited to go off and find yourself elsewhere, but something about not having the silly, brown haired boy by your side 24/7 felt strange. granted, you two weren’t as close as your six year old self thought you would be, but you found that you and mark held a special type of bond that you feared you wouldn’t find anywhere else.

you still hadn’t figured out your love for mark lee, but you knew that leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do.

“just...promise to call often, okay?” you told him as you walked with him to his car, a box of his things in your arms.

mark’s lips curled up into a smug smile. “why? gonna miss me that much?”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re making me regret saying that. you’ll be lucky if i don’t block you after this, idiot.”

mark laughed loudly and you found yourself smiling softly at the sound. you placed the box in his truck before you both turned to each other. “i’ll text you everyday and call when i can. don’t worry, you can’t get rid of me that easily. you’ll probably be hearing about my uncontrollable gas everyday so if that’s not what you’re looking for then...”

you laughed and shoved his shoulder, mumbling for him to shut up. “it’s gonna be weird without you, i think.”

mark shrugged. “yeah, well, we’ll see each other again. just think about it like that time where you got so mad at me for blowing up your house in minecraft that you ignored me for a week!”

mark expected you to laugh but became concerned when he saw your lip quivering and your eyes threatening to spill tears. “y/n? sorry, is that, like, a sensitive memory?”

when you suddenly wrapped your arms around his torso and mumbled a soft ‘i’ll miss you’ into his chest, mark cursed at himself for being the first one to fall in love.

___

“isn’t it like 4am for you? you should go to bed,” you scolded him half heartedly. you sat at your vanity on facetime with a sleepy mark as you did your nightly skincare routine.

mark groaned through the phone and shook his head. “but i wanna talk to you,” he whined groggily. “i miss you.”

your cheeks heat up and you smiled shyly. “i miss you too, mark.”

mark blinked slowly with a tired look, his hair all messed up and his face in need of a shave. he watched you silently as you rubbed your moisturizer into your skin, smiling at the sight. “...you’re really pretty you know that?”

you froze and chuckled nervously, keeping yourself busy with your moisturizer so you didn’t have to see the way mark was looking at you. “you’re talking nonsense again.”

he grumbled, “i’m not talking any nonsense. you’re so pretty, y/n, i miss seeing your face. i hate facetime and my shit wifi.”

“you’re rambling, marky, go to bed,” you ushered him, this time grabbing your phone to look at him.

he smiled fondly at you. “i like it when you call me marky.”

“okay, i’ll call you it more if you go to bed.”

mark huffed and complied, bidding you one last goodbye. “fine. i miss you so much, y/n, call me tomorrow.”

“okay, i will.”

“promise?” mark asked softly, peeking open one eye to look at you.

“i promise, you big baby.”

“okay, goodnight. love you,” mark mumbled softly into his pillow, already half asleep.

your breath hitched in your throat at his words. you two hardly ever said that phrase to each other but you began to realize that nowadays mark seemed to say it quite often. before, you’d probably make a face in disgust at the cheesiness, but now it only made your stomach sick with butterflies.

“yeah, love you too, marky. sleep tight.”

already fast asleep, mark stayed silent. your thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button, but you waited a few more seconds just to look at how peaceful mark looked. you could see the sky turning from a dark black to a paler blue from his window, making you frown since the boy had stayed up so late. before you could look at him any longer, you ended the call and sat back in your chair.

loving mark lee had always seemed impossible to you, but now you realized that it was the one thing that you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

___

you spent a lot of time thinking about your feelings for mark while you were away and most of it was you being in denial. you thought that maybe it was just because you weren’t used to being so far away from him, but deep down you knew otherwise. your friends had tried setting you up on blind dates, yet no one seemed to fill in the gap that you felt you had in your heart.

after you finished your first year of college, your mother began to pester you about having a boyfriend for you to bring home for the holidays. yet no matter how many guys you thought about, your mind would always bring you back to mark.

it was now christmas time and your family and mark’s family were going to have a small get together, meaning that you and mark would get to spend time with each other in person again. you weren’t sure if you should tackle mark at the sight of him, but you figured he would do the same to you anyway.

“y/n, sweetheart! my gosh, it’s been so long! you’ve grown up so well,” mark’s mother cooed as she gave you a warm hug.

you chuckled and returned her hug, replying with, “thank you, mrs. lee. it’s nice to see you again.”

she playfully nudged your shoulder. “any boyfriend yet?”

you laughed awkwardly and shook your head, looking away. “oh, um, no...not yet.”

she beamed. “mark will be happy to hear that.” she said it so fast that you almost didn’t catch it. “he’s out back waiting for you. i told him i’d tell him when you got here, but it’ll be a nice surprise for him,” she winked.

you thanked her briefly before making your way to the backyard excitedly. you thought that you’d be more nervous facing the boy you loved but, frankly, all you wanted to do was finally tell him that you loved him.

when you opened the door mark immediately turned his head, expecting to see his mom, but his facial expression completely changed when he saw you. he ran up to you with the brightest smile on his face and engulfed you into his arms. you laughed joyously into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you as close to his chest as humanly possible.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to do that,” he mumbled into your hair.

you smiled against his shoulder before pulling away to look at him. the two of you held eye contact for what felt like an eternity before mark finally returned his arms back to his side.

“even though we call everyday, it feels like i’m meeting you for the first time all over again,” mark said with a light laugh.

“i hope i lived up to your expectations, then,” you joked.

mark smiled fondly at you before brushing snow out of your hair. “definitely above expectations.”

you blushed at his comment but thanked the cold weather for hiding your rosy cheeks. before you could make more small talk, mark burst out into another sentence.

“y/n, i have to get this off of my chest before i explode,” he blurted.

your eyes widened and you nodded your head. “oh, um, okay, what is it?”

he gripped at his hair and turned around, beginning to whine. “oh my god, i’m gonna sound like the biggest idiot on earth. please don’t hate me after this.”

“...what did you do, mark?”

“i didn’t do anything! well...” he faced you again with a sigh and grabbed your hands taking you by surprise. “y/n, i’m in love with you. and i know you probably just see me as that stupid annoying boy your mom forced you to be friends with but i’ve loved you for over a year and it’s driving me crazy and i-”

“mark!” you interrupted him, placing a hand over his mouth. he looked at you with wide eyes while you smiled at him, practically glowing with happiness. you removed your hand from over his mouth and he sighed again.

“just reject me so i can go cry in my room.” mark shut his eyes and prepared himself for rejection but it never came.

“i love you too, mark.”

mark opened one at to stare at you suspiciously. “...really? like, seriously?”

you chuckled. “yes, really. for a few months now.”

“wait, you’re not pranking me or anything, right?” mark asked with a small laugh.

you glared at him. “mark...”

“i’m sorry, i’m just really surprised!” mark opened his mouth to say something but then gasped and dug into his back pocket to grab something.

when he pulled out a small piece of mistletoe you seemed to fall in love with the brunette boy all over again. he grabbed one of your hands and gently pulled you closer to him, using the other hand to hold the mistletoe over your guys’ heads.

“i brought this just in case. i know that you’ve always fantasized about a moment like this so...” he said sheepishly. “kiss me?”

you laughed and brushed his hair out of his eyes before cupping his cheeks and placing a soft kiss on his lips. you felt him smile into the kiss, making you laugh and pull away.

“been waiting for that one too, huh?” you teased.

mark waved the mistletoe above the two of you and shook his head. “less talking and more kissing please...”

it took you over 10 years for you to realize that you loved mark lee but, if you had to, you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee oneshot #mark lee fluff #NCT #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #nct mark #nct oneshot #im so bad at writing confession scenarios im so sorry #superm #mark lee oneshots

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diedbutterflies69 · 3 years

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Leaving Pluto -

Lee Know smut imagine.

Contains: soft dom!lee know, praise mixed with teasing, slight choking. Arguing slightly. Fingering, oral $ex

Minors don't interact.

Working past the work hours cause he didn't have you waiting for him to come home.

It was another exhausting night for Minho. Being away from you was killing him slowly. A small fight that happened four days ago was the reason for you to not contact him. You wanted to find a new workplace, cause you were too tired of your co workers talking behind your back how cheap of a woman you were just because you were dating a male with slight higher position than you. According to Minho you should have ignored thier words or come with most savage comeback possible or simply talk sweetly and be friends with them. But you being you picked up the option which he never expected. Your resignation letter.

For Minho you were a deadly drug, Without you he can't live. He was addicted to feeling of being loved.

Being bad with words he never really poured out his heart to you. He fell for you when he was at his peak of self-hatred, he still can't understand how you were able to see behind the proud man who earned his position all by himself was a hiding his depressed emo kid who just wished to feel something.

Minho can't lose you. He exactly knew where you were. But he didn't have the guts to face you, he was scared because his words were no less than knifes. He was tired of himself being always a jerk to you and you forgiving him everytime because

Minho was your everything too.

You both weren't in a toxic relationship just were different.

He believed in facing problem and you believed in running away from it .

Shutting down the laptop he picked his coat and stuff. Minho made his mind, he can't just sit ideal and expect you to come back to him . Your apartment wasn't miles away from him but here he was still hesitating to start the car and and Stay with you.

Finally gathering all his shattered courage and starting the engine Minho finally headed to his world.

Standing infront of your apartment and again trying to find his lost courage Minho finally rung the door bell and it didn't even took 10 secs before the door opened.

"What you want", you Asked him. Your voice colder than ice. You expected Minho to come begging at your door anyways as you understand what kind of devil was residing in his mind, but now you were tired , tired of how Minho only knew how to regret over the mess he created himself. Looking in his eyes, your whole tough demonor almost shaken. You hated to see Minho in that state.

"umm, can I come in, please Y/N?"

He gave you a small smile and your heart melted, no one knows how much you adored that man he always just pretend to have a tough front, and right now it was crumbling again.

Sighing heavily you let him in.

"come in" you said.

"Y/N, Listen to me please, I overreacted it was my fault I -I apologize I was hitted hard by fact that I would be unable to see you everyday in that suffocating place, I--I am really sorry and please I wasn't trying to control you, I was being selfish I--I-I--"

" will you stop now?" You asked him cutting him off, whatever anger you had disappeared the moment he expressed his heart truly but you just wanted to know one thing.

"Do you love me Minho?", You asked him you didn't understand what exact feelings he had for you, was it love, or desire to be love, or just a simple fuck. Minho's face full of confusion, you caught him off-guard. But he answered confidently no ounce of hesitation in his voice.

"I love you, I love you so much" His voice so sincere like he was practicing his wedding vows.

"Then fucking act like a normal guy in love for atleast 1 second, who the hell takes almost whole week to apologize?? Is your ego more powerful than your love, dating in office place was so damn hard for me those annoying rats comments were giving me headache and I live with you, do you forgot that??? Fucking stupid crazy ?"

You ranted , felt like the weight from your shoulders finally lifted you just wanted his genuine emotions, living peacefully without arguing like cats and dogs.

Minho was hanging his head low in guilt knowing how much damaged he has caused , that you started to doubt his love.

"I love you so much sorry please forgive me , I will try to get better", Minho said he always meant what he said. looking straight into eyes he come closer to you.

"You should have come sooner, I missed your stupid ass", you said speaking from your heart. The 5 days argument finally fucking itself.

Minho smiled at you and said," I was too afraid of lover, you know she is a whole different person when angry." Pouting like a kid, he was too irresistible for you and you were deprived from his touch,his kisses and whole him.

"You talk to much", You said and locked your lips with Minho for a desperate deep kiss, which he happily reciprocated back with equal desperation and love.

" you are the hottest girl I have ever seen" he said and pecked your lips lifting you up in his arms and going straight to your bedroom. Both of you looking at each other with so much respect love and affection. Reaching your bedroom Minho slowly put you down smiling at you and whispering "let me show you how much love I have for you", whimpering desperately at his words that sended shivers down your spine no matter how many times he had fucked you , you can't get used to his dominant persona.

Minho's hand wondering inside your hoodie and cupping your breasts as you didn't wore any bra his fingers softly pinching your buds not in a rough way. Tonight he decided to go as gentle as possible.

"Stop teasing, Minho", you moaned desperately , tugging on Minho's shirt and attempting to free his god sculpted body. One thing Minho loved the most about you , you not being shy and addressing whatsoever you felt. Minho smiled playfully at you and saying out " patience darling, I am gonna make you feel good" This man is gonna be death of me you thought .

Minho removed your hoodie and freed your upper body, cold air immediately making your buds hard again, his hand resting on your waist and one to support himself at top of you , he started kissing your neck And leaving a very small hickey as you didn't liked him marking you at visible places, you were too lazy to conceal it. Going down and cupping your right breast so tenderly your breath getting heavier at Minho's slow yet sensual ministrations, he was different from usual, definitely more soft.

But him being slow was torture to your core.

"Please", you whimpered bucking up your hips to Minho's body in response he grabbed your thighs his hands, caressing your inner thighs dangerously close to your heat, you were already wet from all the foreplay , your pussy begging to get destroyed by your lover.

Minho removed your shorts , now your slight wet panties being the only cloth on your body on the other hand Minho being Fully dressed his black shit wrinkled from your tight grip which he unbuttoned hastily after freeing your body from those useless panties throwing somewhere in room.

"because of who your pussy is soo wet , love?" He said looking straight in your eyes his fingers resting at your entrance, waiting for your answer before doing anything else. A fucking teaser.

"Because of you Min, do something please", your voice coming out much softer and desperate than you thought.

Finally giving you a big smile, Minho entered his fingers in your mouth covered in your saliva then without warning he shoved his two fingers in your hole and moving them at a extremely slow pace his touch was so powerful today even if it was different he never was a slow going man but you weren't complaining.

Minho went down to your thigh level, eyes looking straight at your pussy , without removing his fingers , he attacked your pussy with his mouth, sucking the entrance and tongue going straight inside you, fingers and the soft muscle making it difficult for you to not moan and just keep screaming his name till your lungs burn.

His nose brushing to your your clit , and fingers finally picking up pace , you can literally feel Minho's smirk whenever you called his name.

"I. ... I am close", you said followed by a high pitched moan, hearing you Minho's own cock almost bursting , he added a third finger and started sucking you more aggressively.

"I am cumin..." You felt your body on cloud nine, your high washing over you, juices flowing from you and Minho not letting them fall, till the last drop he kept eating you out and fingering, you almost crying from overstimulation.

"How was it babe? Felt good?", Minho asked you even knowing the answer that he literally made you see the stars alone with his fingers and tongue, detaching himself from your lower body and again looking at you , You got up ready to give him something in return, he loved your mouth and loved how you gagged whenever his tip touched back of your throat, your hands reached his belt but he stopped you .

"This, ain't about me babe", Minho said, resulting in you looking at him in pure frustration, giving you a sly smile as he lied you back down on bed he continued. " I mean suck me some other day, now I just wanna come inside your small pussy"

Minho have a great way of making you lose your mind completely.

He unbuckled his belt and removing his belt so slowly like he was giving you a whole strip show. After finally freeing his member from all the restrictions Minho's mouth again finding your lips as he slowly entered inside you .

"Fuck, why you always feel so good", Minho grunted heavily and started moving at a slow pace, his hand cupping your breasts and lips hungrily kissing you."you are so fucking beautiful love",He said , his voice containing pure sincerity and sensuality. The way he was rolling his hips was driving you insane, even the kiss was so sensual, his tongue inside exploring your mouth . Minho's body so close to you ,your slight bloated stomach occassionally coming in contact with his sculpted abs, he always made you feel beautiful , sexy even when days he was rough his degradation never made you felt insecure and today he was being so gentle, so soft and his praises making your throbbing heart melt. You love Minho and Minho loves you.

"Minho, please you.. you feel so damn.. good", you said in between your deep breaths and screams. Minho's lips now giving you hickeys and you didn't really wanted to stop him, his mouth felt so damn good. His pace being the same slow torture to you.

"I feel good too babe, inside you", Minho said his grunts getting more louder signalling he was close too. His hand now intervining with yours in a tight grip as if he you were his last straw to sanity.

"can I come, please?", You asked as of an habit , Minho was a hella kinky man and he had taught you so many things inside bedroom and asking for his permission before Cumming was one. He nodded at your request, something which happened once in a blue moon you were glad as wasn't edging you. His thrusts getting faster as he chased down his own high.

Leaving many screams and moans, you cummed around his cock feeling like being top of the world. " You are mine", he said before kissing your forehead and those intervened hand before empting himself inside you.

"I am yours, always yours", you replied to Minho, his forehead resting against yours both giving each other a faint and tired smile.

He scorched beside you and engulfed you in a tight hug , caressing your sweaty forehead and removing the hair that were sticking to it because of the passionate activities you both just did.

Comfortable Silence spreading inside your room. Before Minho finally spoke again.

"I am sorry, you gonna come back to our house right?" Minho apologizing again and being oblivion to the fact that you had even forget the argument. You also loved the way he referred his house to 'ours'. Those small things which he do without any intentions meant so much to you.

"Stop saying sorry It wasn't only yours alone fault too, I too overeacted, sorry" you said to him and snuggling inside his neck . He quickly reacted to the last word. Minho hated the way you thought it was your fault.

"No babe, I am sorry, don't apologize", Minho again saying sorry, Guess it was endless loop of taking the blame. You ignored his words having no energy to argue .

"well, so are we gonna have a bath, We need to go back to our home in morning", you said Minho and him being too aware of hidden meaning of your words.

"Okay babe , let's do 69 there"

Thanks for reading .

Beautiful reader.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids #skz #lee minho #minho #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know #lee know smut

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mikkomacko · 3 years

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Christmas Magic 5

Here it is! Only a month late lol. Thank you for being so patient with me, enjoy!

Jingle Bell Rock flows throughout the mall for the umpteenth time in the hour and a half that Harry and y/n have been there. She's still a bit sniffly from her cold, the congestion often giving her headaches but she's fairly certain that the pounding in the back of her skull is the result of Christmas shopping.

"Do ya think she'd rather have a Goofy in her stocking or a Minnie?"

Harry's holding both plushies in his hands, eyebrows knitted in deep thought and she's tempted to laugh from how seriously Harry's taking shopping duty. He'd picked out his gift for Ophelia easily, deciding she'd absolutely love a pair of roller skates and some new clothes from him. It was almost magical watching him easily navigate Toys R Us and pick out the gift, no hesitation about whether it's the right gift or not. He just knew. But now, now that he's shopping as Santa and not as dad, every little item is debated.

"Oh God, maybe she'd prefer Pluto?"

Y/n does laugh this time when he turns back to the wall of stuffed animals in the Disney store, more fear in his eyes than she thinks belongs in the eyes of someone with a medical degree. Harry whips around at her giggle, nose scrunching in annoyance. "What's so funny?"

Adjusting her purse on her shoulder, she moves closer and takes the toys out of his hands. "She's your daughter Harry. You know everything about her, including which character she'd love most." Harry huffs as she puts the toys back on the shelf with their clones.

"But this isn't from me, s'from-" Harry throws a quick glance over his shoulder, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Santa and he doesn't know her like I do."

Defeated, Harry turns to face her and with a pout that greatly resembles his daughters, Harry hunches over to lay his cheek on y/n's shoulder and bury his nose in her neck. She wraps her arms around him, lightly scratching at his shoulder blade.

"You're thinking too much babe," she says "you know she loves Goofy." He hums, nodding just once and he breath is warm on her skin when he whispers, "but she's already got a Goofy."

Ophelia wouldn't mind another Goofy, y/n knows that, but she decides to just stay quiet and endure a long day of shopping with Harry. After all, this is for his daughter and she'd do anything for him and his baby.

"Hello?"

Harry squishes his phone between his ear and shoulder, folding a pink pair of pajama pants and tucking them into Ophelia's flower printed suitcase.

"Hey there," Gemma greets, "m'leaving the house now so I'll be there for my little one soon."

Through the phone he can hear the sound of Gemma's car starting, the engine humming lowly. Tucking an extra pair of underwear and socks into her bag, he gasps. "Your little one? I think you mean my little one!"

He zips up her suitcase, now gripping his phone in his left hand and then setting the bag upright on the carpet. "Well tonight she's my little one."

Ophelia laughs from the living room, the sound warming Harry's chest. "Suppose that's fair," he agrees "but just for tonight. I want her back tomorrow."

"Morning or noon?" Gemma asks with a sly tone, hinting towards something.

Harry's ears grow hot and he perches himself on the edge of Ophelia's bed, scratching at the back of his neck. "Depends on the nipper." He remains casual, but his mind flashes to the box of condoms now sitting under his bathroom sink, knowing they're the reason he asked Gemma for a sleepover with her niece.

"So if she wants to go home at 3 in the morning tonight-"

"You call and I'll go get her." He replies instantly. "No matter the time or what I'm doing I'll go get her."

Gemma hums. "And this girlfriend of yours..."

His heart thumps loudly. "Yeah?"

"Would she care if you had to come get Ophelia?"

Harry doesn't even have to think about it and that makes him happy beyond belief. "No. She'd probably beat me getting there if m'honest." It may be a bit of an exaggeration because God knows Harry would move mountains to get to his daughter, but he also knows that y/n would be right there with him.

"Good," she says "just wanted to make sure you weren't shagging the wrong kind of gal."

He snorts. "Don't have to worry about me."

She gasps, "so it is a shagging date!"

Harry's entire face turns hot, embarrassment prickling his skin which he thinks is odd considering he has a bloody child and everyone knows he's not a 30 year old virgin. Still, his voice cracks when he exclaims "Gemma!"

Her cackle is loud and obnoxious through the phone, obviously pleased with herself. She's never missed an opportunity to make him flustered like that so he's not surprised.

"I have good intuition." Harry says, changing the subject back to their previous topic.

His sister clicks her tongue. "That'd be more comforting if you hadn't knocked up Isabella. Bloody b-"

"Gem," he interrupts, voice stern. He knows he screwed up in college, knows Isabella used him, but she also gave him Ophelia and a part of him will always thank her for that. "S'in the past. I've grown up."

The line is a silent for a moment, followed by her defenceless sigh. "I know Harry. I'm proud of you but I just-you're my baby brother. And she may be Ophelia's mom but I'll never forgive her actions."

And he can't argue with that. Gemma has every right to feel the way she does especially because he knows it's born out of her love for her family, but he wishes she weren't so bitter about it. Bitterness makes the bones brittle, he's been told.

"Don't have to forgive her but can you forgive me at least? I have a part in this too."

She exhales, annoyed. "You don't have a part in her not being the mother Ophelia needs and you don't have a part in the way she treated you."

Harry feels like he does. He should've been tougher, stronger, better, anything to make Isabella stay in Ophelia's life. He's not going to say that to Gemma though. "Yeah," he mumbles, hating how much this phone call has brought his mood down. "I'll uh, I'll see you in a bit Gem."

"See ya Harry." Gemma says, sounding tired herself. Every time they bring up Isabella it's exhausting and they never get far in their conversation. Maybe that's why the topic is avoided. That and Harry doesn't like talking about the woman he once loved.

Mood gone sour, Harry tucks his phone into his pocket and collects Ophelia's suitcase, carrying it out to the living room.

Arthur Christmas is playing on the TV and much to Harry's amusement, y/n is laughing at it more than Ophelia. He's not even sure what's so hilarious about the movie but she's laughing so hard her shoulders have curled in and her whole body is shaking.

"Auntie Gem will be here in a moment for you Fee." Harry says, pulling his daughter's gaze from the television. He places her things by the door, turning back to the couch just in time for Ophelia to launch herself at him. Used to the terrible habit, Harry easily catches her against his chest.

"Gonna be a good girl, yeah?" He asks, tucking a wild curl behind her ear. The little one nods, eyebrows furrowed in determination. "Gonna have fun with auntie?"

"Always have fun with auntie Gem." Ophelia promises, her features easing into a smile.

"I know you do," he kisses her forehead. "Gonna miss me?" His question brings a little frown to her lips and she tucks her face into his neck when she whispers, "Gonna miss you a lot daddy but I'll see you tomorrow."

Her little reassurance makes him laugh. Sometimes she's like a bloody adult in the body of a five year old and it never fails to amuse him when she 'parents' him.

"Yeah," he swears "you will, nipper. As soon as you're ready to see me I'll be there, okay?" Ophelia nods as best she can without leaving her cozy cove in his neck. "I mean it babycakes, whenever you're ready, yeah?"

"I know daddy."

Before he can ask another overprotective question, there's a knock on the front door. Ophelia wiggles out of his arms, screaming as she bolts to the door and pulls it open. "Auntie Gem!"

"Why hello sunshine!" His older sister, stepping into the apartment and lifting Ophelia up for a cuddle. Y/n climbs off the couch, attaching to Harry's side like a lost puppy. He takes her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

Ophelia's feet touch the floor again and Gemma looks up to greet Harry and y/n. He speaks first, tugging y/n closer to him.

"Gem, this is my girlfriend y/n."

Gemma's eyes look over y/n, analyzing. She always been a good judge of character and he can't help but want to jump with excitement when his sister smiles and shakes y/n's hand.

"Gemma, it's lovely to meet you." She responds, clearly pleased with the vibes she picked up from y/n. Then she turns to Harry, raising an expectant eyebrow. Smiling, Harry releases y/n's hand to wrap his arms around his sister's shoulders.

"Hiya squirt." Gemma says teasingly, reaching up to pinch Harry's cheeks. He scoffs at the nickname. Gemma's always called him that because he was always a smaller for his age. Too short and too skinny, then too short and too chubby, but somewhere around the age of 20 he evened out. Now he stands a foot taller than her and could easily throw her over his shoulder if he wanted to. But the nickname still stuck.

"Daddy my boots!" Ophelia comes barrelling into his legs, a pink snow boot clutched in each of her little hands. He crouches down in front of her, helping guide her feet into the thick shoes and lace them up. Y/n suddenly comes up behind her, carrying her puff coat. They bundle her up tight, knowing that the snow in London has been especially abundant this year.

"Arms please," she requests, Harry leaning back just in time to catch her gentle smile. Ophelia spreads her arms, allowing y/n to slip in over her shoulders. "Thanks sweets."

"Thank you y/n." Ophelia replies, waiting patiently for Harry to zip the coat. He can't help think about great of a team they are, y/n slipping a beanie over his daughter's curls as he drags the zipper up to her chin.

A perfect team, actually.

"This is the cringiest Christmas movie I've seen."

Y/n rolls her eyes, swallowing down the bite of chicken fajitas that Harry had cooked for dinner. He's sat next to her on the couch, mismatched-sock clad feet up on the coffee table and he's wearing an adorable-y amused expression on his face.

"That's what makes it good," she reasons "plus the knight is cute."

Harry scoffs, looking at her as if she were crazy. "That guy? Sir Cole?" he mocks in a posh accent. "His name is literally circle." She can't help but laugh, watching Harry's cheeks redden. It's obvious her comment has made him jealous and she finds it very endearing that he thinks he's got competition.

"Sorry it's not as original as Harry, your highness."

Face growing even redder, Harry shoves a bite of food in his mouth. Y/n laughs again, leaning forward to set her plate on the table. He's staring too intently at the TV, trying to ignore her as she scoots closer to him and cuddles into his chest. He doesn't move a muscle.

"Don't be a baby," she begs with a pout, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "Harry is the name of royalty. Like a king. Cole is the name of some random guy that becomes a knight. Everyone loves a king.

Harry's lips twitch, much to her delight, and then he's chuckling quietly. Finally, he rests his arm around her shoulders and tucks her into his side. "Since m'royalty I demand you wrap Christmas presents with me."

"Demand?" She scoffs.

He nods. "King's order. He's absolute shit at wrapping and Santa's supposed to be good at it. Think the princess is getting suspicious."

Y/n warms at the thought of Harry up late on Christmas Eve, cursing and mumbling as quiet as possible to not wake Ophelia, frustrated when he rips the corners of the paper or makes it too short for the gift. Luckily for him, she loves wrapping gifts.

"Well the peasant has got no say in this. Bust out the paper Styles." She agrees, pushing herself up from the couch. Harry catches her hand, tugging her back into his lap.

"Not a peasant love." He states quietly, sealing the words with a kiss to her mouth. "Could never be a peasant."

Blushing, she rises with him, following him to the bedroom to retrieve the gifts and wrapping supplies.

A stack of gifts with pretty bows and tags, and two cups of hot cocoa later Harry finds himself sprawled out his mattress next to y/n. She's got her left hand in front of her face, pouting at the Barbie bandaid on her pointer finger, a casualty of the Christmas season. Paper cuts are common when you can't stop giggling and admiring the pretty wrapping paper.

Laughing to himself, Harry reaches over for her hand and presses a kiss to it. "All better sweetheart. Got a dad's magic kiss."

Y/n gasps dramatically. "Oh thank you so much! I'm afraid I would've bled to death!"

"Not on my watch," he promises, rolling onto his side and draping his arm over her tummy. She tangles her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp until he was a puddle of mush on the mattress.

"You're a good dad Harry." She whispers as if she's afraid to say the words that make Harry's veins flood with joy. "Like incredible actually."

Flustered and flattered, he smiles shyly, "Really?"

She doesn't hesitate to nod, rolling onto her side to face him as well. "I don't know how you do it but it's really admirable. I remember dad always wanted to pull his hair out with me. Seems like you and Ophelia are best friends."

It's incredible to Harry that she has no idea what those words mean to him. He remembers holding Ophelia in the hospital, a tiny pink bundle in his arms that had no idea it'd be just the two of them against the world. He remembers being terrified, wanting to throw up and move back home with his mum because he really didn't know what to do. He just wanted to be a good father for his baby girl.

"There were times when she was a baby and it felt like everything I did was wrong." He admits, "Wanted to pull my hair out too."

He knows now is the time to tell her. If he wants this to go further, to take that next step she needs to know his and Ophelia's story. That way she can decide if she wants them or not.

"I want to tell you the story of how I got Ophelia," he says, palms starting to feel a little sweaty. Y/n looks surprised but nods anyway.

"Only if you want too."

He pushes himself to sit up against the headboard, y/n following. "I do want to. If you're going to be a part of our lives you deserve to know...."

Isabella was the girl of his dreams. At least at the time she was. Where he was quiet and timid, she was outspoken and confident. Where he was cautious and analytical, she was reckless and carefree. Anyone who knew them, knew they were polar opposites. Beautiful blonde hair and icy blue eyes, Harry had been stuck on her since the first day he saw her. It was sort of like a movie if he's being honest. The nerdy and awkward boy falls for the older, popular girl. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever end up with her. He didn't have anything going for him. He was 23, living with his best mate and trying to become a male nurse. He wore chunky glasses, his hair was always a terrible mess of frizzy curls, and he wore the same white tee-shirt and black jeans every day. Nothing remarkable about him. Hell, he'd never even been kissed let alone slept with anyone.

And Isabella was nothing like him. She was remarkable. She was going to school to be a dermatologist, starting a bit later than him because she wanted to travel and hang out with friends before she committed to school. She never dated, though she knew everyone and everyone knew her. Harry knew she partied and drank, knew she had sex whenever she wanted to and he loved that about her. He desperately wanted the ease she had. Isabella didn't worry about school, didn't worry about love, didn't worry about her future. She was a wild spirit.

He looked up to her so much. And that's why he got attached to her so quickly. His mother always told him he has a big heart and that it'll always be unstoppable in who it wants to love. Evidently, she was right. After his first night with Isabella, an embarrassingly short first time for him, and a lesson on how to use his pretty hands to make her feel good, Harry knew she had him. Every thought he had was about her. Dreams of her in his flat, his hands in her shiny hair as she kissed every inch of his body and loved him. In his dreams, she loved him.

In real life, she just wanted to have fun with him. They slept together a few more times, enough for Harry to build up enough stamina to actually have her coming on his dick and not his tongue or fingers, but that was it. She turned down his invites to hang out, to study, and when he finally asked her on a date, she turned him down then too. And then she stopped seeing him.

Beautiful Isabella, who could never be tied down. She would never belong to anyone or anything. She would never want to. A month of heartbreak later, she showed up on his doorstep.

"I'm pregnant Harry," is what she had said, and her voice that used to hold so much allure now held contempt. She was now stuck, tied down to a child, committed to the baby and some sort of relationship with him. Exactly what she never wanted. "and I can't raise it. I don't want to raise it."

Even after how much she hurt him, he couldn't bring himself to be angry when they reached the agreement that she'd have the baby but Harry would be the caregiver. He was grateful that she let him have a say, that she didn't automatically decide to not have the child. He loved her and he'd take anything he could get from her, even if it was just her child. And that was all he got. He missed most of her pregnancy, caught up with school. And he knew a part of it was how much Isabella hated him for putting a child in her. He knew she blamed him and that's why she didn't want him around much. He hates to admit it, but he knew that she hated their baby too. He knew from the moment they saw the first ultrasound and her terms for the baby were put in place.

She doesn't want to be in its' life. No phone calls, no texts, no pictures, no claim on her birth certificate. Nothing to show that the baby was hers too. It broke his heart all over again to know that their child would never know a mother's love all because Isabella couldn't love Harry. She hated the baby because it was half him.

From the moment Ophelia was born, it was clear that she was his daughter. She already had dark hair, already developed his green eyes. Her lips took the same shape as his, and her nose was just a tad too big for her face. Just like her father. Nothing about her hinted at her being Isabella's daughter.

Harry took that as a sign. He needed to let go of his first love. If he were meant to always want her, to always have her with him, their child would've carried some semblance of her. But she didn't. It was as if the universe knew it would be just Harry and Ophelia.

Isabella left the hospital a few days later, changing her number and her school. Harry was blocked on everything, as was his family. She wanted nothing to do with them.

As for Harry, he went home to his apartment, introduced his baby to her uncle Niall, and then showed her the corner of his room that was now hers. A crib and a little dresser, squished into his already crowded room.

It was him and Ophelia against the world. He always thought that she was the only girl meant to be in his life. It would take a miracle to find a woman that wanted a dorky, single father who spent too many long hours at work.

But sometimes miracles happen.

Harry's skin prickles with nerves and his tongue rests heavy in his mouth. Y/n is holding his hand, her thumb tracing the cross tattooed by his as he anxiously awaits a reaction from her. The first thing that comes out of her mouth is not what he's expecting.

"You wear glasses?"

Shocked, he stutters. "Uh, y-yeah I do but that's....what?"

Y/n shrugs, frowning down at their intertwined fingers. "How come you never wear them?"

Again, Harry's shocked and a little confused. That definitely wasn't the detail he expected her to focus on but at least it's a simpler topic than the woman that abandoned his daughter. "I wear m'contacts when you're over."

She finally looks up at him, eyes wide with concern. "You're not supposed to sleep with those on! Your eyeballs could've melted!"

He can't help it. He bursts out laughing, eyes squeezing shut as his chest jolts with the joyous sound. "Sweetheart, one night every few days isn't a big deal." He says once he's finally calmed down.

"It is to me," she mumbles with a pout, slipping a leg over his thighs and pulling herself up to straddle him. "I bet you look hot with glasses."

His heart stutters, hands instinctively holding her hips. "Y-yeah?" He stutters, painfully aware of the fact that he hasn't had sex in six years and the last time he did, he was left heartbroken.

"Yeah," she assures softly, cupping the sides of his warm neck. Her hands are gentle and tender, a grounding force he didn't know he needed until now. "You always look good though."

That's a nice thing to hear after spending your whole life as the scrawny nerd that stands sort of funny because his left leg is just a bit shorter than his right. It's a pain in the ass on his back and he should find someway to alleviate that discomfort but he can't begin to think about how right now because all his blood is quickly rushing to his cock.

"Not as good as you," he replies in earnest, eyes never straying from hers. "never as good as you."

Y/n responds with her mouth on his, slipping a hand to tangle in the curls that meet the back of his neck. He hums into her lips, a current of electricity budding between them and spreading throughout his whole being. He doesn't have much experience but he swears kissing someone has never felt like this.

His fingers slip under the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft skin on her sides. As it trying to get even with him, y/n's hands move to his hips and clutch the edge of his tee-shirt, dragging it up. Harry's brain feels fuzzy and light, floating in lust as they both continue to strip each other of their clothes. By the time he's sat in just his boxers, fingers toying with the waistband of her underwear, he can't even remember how they got here. He hates himself for it, wishes he remembered every little detail, but there's time for that later.

"I've got-fuck," he smacks another kiss to her mouth before continuing. "got condoms, in the bathroom." Y/n kisses him again, reluctant to pull away but she's just as desperate as him. Harry had intended on nipping into the bathroom to retrieve the rubber but y/n is quicker, removing herself from his lap.

"Be right back!" She calls over her shoulder, panty clad bum disappearing into the restroom. Harry takes a second to ground himself, breathing smoothly as he drops a stern look to the throbbing bulge in his boxers.

"Don't embarrass me," he mutters, "know it's been awhile but it's gonna be even longer if you come in the first five minutes." Mentally praying to a higher being, Harry moves to sit on the edge of the bed just as y/n returns with the black box. His cock twitches, overwhelmed with the fact that she grabbed the whole fucking box and not just one little pack, and his hope of lasting long enough for her weakens a bit.

She retrieves a packet from the box, laying the container on the bedside table. Harry rises from the bed, hands trembling and chest fluttering. He's reaching for the band of his boxers when y/n moves to the edge of the bed, sat on her knees in front of him.

"Can I?" She asks, her own fingers gripping the last article of clothing on him. Swallowing thickly, he nods and then she's pulling them down his thighs, over his knobby knees, and dropping them to his ankles. He kicks them off, eyes locked on her reaction.

Just seeing her face, eyes dark and mouth dropped open has him frantic. He tears open the condom, fitting it over his prick and tossing the wrapper to the side. "Can I be on top?"

Y/n is already moving to lay back against the pillows, nodding. "Fuck, yes please." She breathes, gripping his shoulders when he covers her body with his. They're mouths meet in the middle while Harry slips her underwear down her thighs. It takes some awkward wiggling and kicking, but she gets them off eventually and that's all that matters.

Harry grips himself, lining his cock up with her slit. "Never done it like this," he admits quietly, lips brushing hers. Y/n wraps her legs around his hips, pulling him in closer. "was always on bottom."

"Are you okay doing it this way?"

He smiles, butterflies swarming his chest at her sweet words. "Of course I am. Wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to try it." And she kisses him again, urging him to sink into her with a tightening of her leg. Harry complies, a wheezing gasp leaving him as he slowly presses into her.

He's had sex before, obviously, and he knows how fucking good it feels, but nothing compares to the feeling of being with y/n. Maybe it's the new position or because it's been so long for him, but it feels euphoric. Like if he keeps fucking her, eventually he'll die from too much pleasure in his veins. He can't help but think it feels magical as he rocks his hips into hers, listening to y/n mewl in his ear. That's the only explanation. It has to be magic.

Magic isn't real, he reminds himself, trying to ground himself to the beautiful beneath him. She's all he should be thinking about.

And she is, because he fails to notice the snow that has suddenly started glittering past the bedroom window, shimmering more than any snow he's ever seen.

She's lining the roof of the gingerbread cottage with green icing, sticking gumdrops on it when Ophelia bursts into gleeful giggles. Y/n glances up from the icing bag, heart swelling to a size so large it could burst as she watches Harry and his daughter. He's got Ophelia in his lap, two large biceps wrapped around her little body to hold her squirming limbs still as Harry blows raspberries into her neck and cheek.

"Daddy!" Ophelia bubbles through laughs, "your whiskers daddy, no!"

Her words make Harry laugh loudly into his daughter's neck, eyes squeezing shut and shoulders shaking. The vibrations must tickle her even more because Ophelia's laughs grow louder and she wiggles liked a cooked noodle. A baby hand slips free, slapping at Harry's cheek and smearing crystal sprinkles across his scruff.

"I'm telling Santa you hit me!" Harry exclaims like a child tattling to a parent. Ophelia immediately freezes, eyes widening in fear as she turns in Harry's lap to face him.

"No daddy," she cries, cupping his face in her sticky hands. "please. It was an accident, I'm sorry daddy!" Y/n bites her lip to hold back her smile, watching Harry maintain his facade of hurt.

He shakes his head. "I have to. Santa has to know who goes on the naughty list."

Trembling lips place an apologetic kiss to Harry's cheek. "B-but m'not naughty! You told me I was a good girl!"

Harry finally cracks, giggling as he snuggles his anxious daughter into his chest. "Fine I won't tell," he concedes, "but you gotta give me a real kiss nipper."

Complying, Ophelia places a sweet kiss to Harry's puckered lips. He dots a few more to her face, gently tickling her with his beard before settling back into decorating. They're both working on putting buttons on the gingerbread snowman when Harry steals y/n's attention from her window decorating.

"What are ya plans for Christmas love?"

Pursing her lips, she shrugs. Her father was never big on Christmas. Of course they celebrated it, but he lives in Washington and she lives in London now, and Christmas has never been big enough to them for her to fly overseas. She typically spends the holiday picking up extra hours at work or hanging with some friends.

"Don't really have anything planned. I just go with the flow of the day." She explains.

Their eyes meet, Harry's narrowed under furrowed eyebrows. "Ya don't go with family or friends?"

"Not worth the flight honestly. My dad usually goes on fishing trips anyway and I hate fishing."

As if he can't believe her words, he shakes his head and runs a hand over his face. "Shouldn't be spending Christmas alone pet." She shrugs, used to it just being her. "Guess I'll have to drag you up North with us."

His smirk is beautiful and alluring, making her mouth ache to meet his, but that thought is buried under the alarm sounding throughout her brain. Head home with Harry?

How is she supposed to manage that?

#christmas magic #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #single dad harry #dad harry #harry styles au #one direction #smut #harry x reader #angst

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docholligay · 5 years

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@amberlilly asked me for “The Senshi react to Bioshock Infinite!” A lot of times these “X reacts to Y” prompts can be really difficult, because they can so often descend into really TV-style “Oh that was cool” type stuff and that’s not really what makes me feel proud and happy, so this took me a while, but I think the end result is really interesting stuff! Please let me know if you enjoy! This, as always, includes MY TAKE on the SIlMil, so if “Angel Noble Moon Kingdom” is your thing this may not be for you.

Mina didn’t take anything seriously. Everyone knew that, because that was what she wanted everyone to know. Mina laughed and she made jokes and she was flippant and she never thought about anything too overly much, and that was the way she liked it. That was the way she liked it to be known.

Games were just a fiction, everyone knew that, and that wasn’t any less true, she supposed, as she watched the band of crows fly out of a man’s hands, and she elbowed Rei in the ribs, telling her she only wishes she had that sort of power. The water tentacles were Haruka’s wet dream, weren’t they, she laughed. Haruka scowled, and Mina didn’t take anything seriously.

What could she possibly feel, about a man who knew there were horrors in his past, that he had done things that made him a monster, even if that Booker no longer existed in this timeline?

Booker ran through the rebellions he put down of men the same as him that he was told were lesser, and he served and he put his bootheel through babies’ skulls, and remembers, oh how he remembers.

She looked over to Mako, who almost certainly did not remember when the planet of Mercury gave their underpowered rebellion, when Jupiter and Venus and Mars crushed those bookish weaklings with little thought to the matter. When Mars set their libraries on fire and laughed at the flame. When Jupiter grinned as she tossed a flaming book crashing through the stained glass of a university building.

When Venus put the survivors of the protest to the sword.

When she made Sailor Mercury kill her sister for her participation.

But this was all a fiction, a fiction of a man from a faraway time in a place that never existed, and the other Senshi hooted and hollered as they passed the controller around, and drank potions that made this man into the things they used to be. The elements, abridged, and Mina could always sniff out a liar.

Oh to have been Mars with her fire, or Neptune with the crash of her own sea. The rest of them had powers that were destructive in all those easy ways that were like a game in themselves, ways they could wish for even still. But not Venus. No, Venus, as Mina, needed no element but her own ferocity on the battlefield, and so she had been gifted the gifts of the human mind, of memory. Venus could see them, and plant them, and with a touch, call up the most painful moment of your life.

Mina could not do that, but she could see and do enough. She was not a Seer, but she was not completely removed, either, and she existed as her own island.

But she didn’t take it seriously.

What could she possibly take seriously, about a game where a man knew the past was there, just at the edge of his memory, and that something had been lost, something he had to find, something he had to make better?

Booker found Elizabeth and determined to be what she needed him to be. We aren’t trapped in what we were, are we? What something in another ripple of time might have been? He saved her from the Prophet, because prophecy is all about ruin, and sometimes you need to fight to free someone. Sometimes you have to kill, to protect.

You could reject prophecy. The proof of that was in Haruka, shoving a sandwich into her mouth and yelling at the screen, and in Michiru, sipping her wine, the matching scars on their chests the only symbol of a death that was meant to be.

And so that she could hear Queen Serenity, with her dying breaths mirrored in Venus’ own, seaking of the Moon Kingdom to come, and that Venus would lead her daughter to a new order that would cover the Sol System, that would bring this System to order once more. This was prophecy, and for this she ripped the shards of power from their bodies and sent them, like eggs, to wait on earth.

Why she’d been so fond of what would become Tokyo, Mina wasn’t really sure. You’d think she’d diversify her portfolio a little.

And there was Mina, joking again. The game was a joke, yelling at Elizabeth, a source of immense power, to get her shit together before she got killed, there was nothing but jokes to be seen in that. Being the instrument of something you can’t understand, something you were dropped into, who could understand that?

The room was filled with laughter and chatter, and Mina laughed too.

What could she feel about being haunted by a feral ghost?

Lady Comstock became a memory and a lie and a legend, and those things can still strike, her shrieking fight against the will to change the future, the desire to bring forth the truth in all its ugliness and inconvenience. Preserved under glass, the story being told against and again about those terrible Vox Populi, and how they killed her, and how terrible is it?

The Vox Populi didn’t kill her, but maybe they should have. Maybe the people should rise and defeat those that would keep them down. Maybe Venus and the others weren’t heroes but with footsoldiers in the oppression that the Moon Kingdom meted out, in the name of peace.

“There was never a bad peace.” Mina could still hear her, with Venus’ ears, as these words echoed off the cold crystal walls. She smiled. The Queen always smiled when she said these things.

Even in death, Serenity had written the story, and when the kingdom of the moon was brought to Mina, Pluto told her of a beautiful kingdom, with a princess, and there was peace, and the people of Earth disrupted it, because Beryl was evil, because love between the Earth and the moon was forbidden.

Poor, sweet Pluto. She had been lied to more than any of them, kept so far from the kingdom, watching its destruction through a sad mirror at the gate, clinging to those instructions from her beloved queen. Raise these girls, and make them fighters. Raise this kingdom, again, for Princess Serenity. For me.

She looked to Pluto, who whose eyes were on the screen with that face that knew so much, and so little. Did she think often, on her deception? As both deceiver and deceived? Mina could think of little else, as the silver Lady burst through doors and windows, screaming out the hatred of this interloper, bringing violence and death.

That same scream had filled her mind, as she Remembered. Not those memories suggested to her, by Pluto, by the shard itself, by that sweet whispering voice that said how she loved her wayward daughter. No, Serenity had made a mistake with that shard, in that those powers were bound to memory, and she could not erase that, not all of it. Not for all of them.

Haruka did not remember that Uranus was a coward, and so she was brave. Mako did not remember that Jupiter was a destroyer, and so she grew beauty.

But Mina remembered Venus was a commander, and that she was hard and cruel and regimented, and those memories dug into her brain stem. Sometimes Venus’ voice slid out of her mouth, and she gagged on it like a poison slug. Neptune was an assassin, and she slithered that knife into the King’s back from the shadows. Did Michiru know she was born from the seed of a traitor? Did she feel that same pricking heat in her chest as Mina did, knowing the thing might escape?

Their eyes met over the bouncing heads of the others, but Michiru’s eyes were as inscrutable as always, one of the few hidden corners Mina knew in all the Senshi.

Mina joked as they wound around lighthouse after lighthouse, each one leading them to a false home, a new place where things were changed and yet always, always the same. All they could do was try another lighthouse. Go through another tear, and be born again.

She let her eyes wander around the room as she fed that perfect knowledge that Mina took nothing seriously, that she was light and flippant and for all the world a perfect goof. Serenity wasn’t the only one who could create a story, and cast herself as she wanted it to be.

Venus had made her girls into soldiers. She had beaten them and praised them and brought them to heel and made them into the most terrifying force in the Sol System. She had done this with efficiency and power and a certain violent grace.

But Mina loved hers. She wanted Haruka to stop trying to give her life. She wanted Rei to forgive herself her mistakes. She wanted Michiru to feel she was part of a team. She wanted Ami to feel heard.

Mina wanted all these things, against what was foretold. Against what Venus whispered. She wanted to love them as Venus had ruled them. But that wasn’t supposed to be part of the game.

What could she feel about this man, whose only way to save what he loved was to die?

#scribbling under a bare light bulb

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