#sorry for the ugly ass moodboard just go with it

[butmakeitgayblog]

City of Angels: Just a Little Doped Up

Also available on AO3

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Lexa ached seeing her wife in pain.

Ached.

The weeks leading up to the big day had left Lexa feeling emotionally drained; a jittery ball of nerves bouncing from one room of their apartment to the next, testing out any and every remedy she could come up with to alleviate her wife's discomfort. Weeding through half-hearted protests of, "I'm fine," and diligently argued pleas of, "I'll do it later," Lexa clawed, begged, borrowed, and stole her way to this particular finish line.

After a month of grumbled fights and empty threats of a contentious divorce if Clarke didn't stop rescheduling, Lexa could only manage a haphazard sigh at being on the receiving end of her wife's icy glare when they'd finally led her away.

Because Clarke had eventually agreed to the procedure, albeit with an air of begrudging resignation, having spent the days leading up to the appointment grumpily preparing Lexa for what to expect.

And she thought she did know what to expect. Lexa had fully anticipated the swollen cheeks and glazed eyes that greeted her when the nurse had called her back. She'd expected the blood tinted dribble of drool that leaked from the lax hang of her wife's mouth. Even the wobbly chin and glistening sheen of tears upon seeing her again didn't lead Lexa to think a single thing was amiss.

But this?

She certainly hadn't anticipated this.

"Who the hell is that?"

"Pardon?" Lexa mumbled in return as she continued to read through the clipboard in her hands, a sigh escaping her at the fifth question in a row.

"I thaaaid," Clarke pushed out with a glassy roll of her eyes, "who the hell is that?"

Slowly dragging her eyes up for a moment Lexa flashed a pleading, yet overly-saccharine, look of love at her wife.

"Clarke?" she said as sweetly as she could manage.

"Hu?"

"Shhh. Just for a little bit, okay?"

Lexa watched an affronted frown pull at her wife's lips, cheeks stuffed with enough gauze to render any threat from the look quite moot. Shooting the disgruntled love of her life another smile, Lexa turned back to the discharge sheet she'd been attempting to fill out.

"Is she always this… lively?"

A cough of laughter jumped from Lexa's chest as she dotted the final 'i' in her last name. Handing the clipboard back to the waiting nurse, Lexa grinned over at the woman now fighting through a series of torturous looking blinks.

"You have no idea," she whispered. "But this is rare form, for sure. You'd think a doctor would-"

"Oh no," the nurse, Monroe, interrupted, shaking her head ruefully as she moved to slip the clipboard in its holder. "Doctors make the worst patients. If they're not pulling the MD card on you, they--"

"Heeey you. C'mere."

"-- Act like a fool?" Lexa finished for her, tossing an exasperated look toward the caregiver in charge.

Turning to the sound of her wife's call, Lexa had to swallow the urge to laugh. Despite Clarke's best attempt at what Lexa knew to be her sultry voice of seduction, the growing puddle of spittle escaping the loose sling of her mouth was enough to kill any hope of that particular mood.

"Yes, my love?" she soothed anyway, rolling the wheeled stool she sat on over to catch her wife's searching hand. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Clarke hummed, her words sticky, and slow, and slurred. "There's thit in my mouf."

"It's gauze, sweetheart," Lexa said, leaning down to press the whisper of a kiss to the swollen curve of Clarke's jaw. "You had your wisdom teeth taken out."

"They took my teef?!"

Seeing the flash of indignant anger in Clarke's eyes, Lexa immediately moved to intercept Clarke's free hand that had sluggishly tried, and failed, to fly up to her mouth.

"You asked them to, remember? They were hurting you."

Clarke shook her head, her eyes turning watery along with her words. "I wouldn't do that."

"I promise ya, hun," the nurse chuckled as she moved to Clarke's other side. "You did."

"But I hate doctorth."

"Amen, sister," Monroe hummed as she took Clarke's wrist and did a final check of her vitals.

Lexa watched as Clarke's eyes seemed to spin in their sockets for a moment before landing on her again, a smile blooming on Lexa's lips at her wife's adorable befuddlement.

"I lub you," Clarke slurred with doe-eyed conviction, picking her head up just to have it fall back a second later. Letting her wandering gaze loop around to her opposite side, baby-blues turned to the nurse instead. "I lub her, ya know."

"I should hope so," the nurse grinned as she placed Clarke's hand back down. "Otherwise the whole marriage thing would be kinda awkward."

"Yeah," Clarke said in a lazy sigh. "That'd be weird… Like we were straight--."

"Okay, Clarke," Lexa tried, shooting Monroe an apologetic smile. "Why don't we just-"

"But I'm in lub with her," she rolled on, pausing for a moment to noisily smack her obviously numb lips. "She's an angel, ya know?"

"She seems like it."

"No. No," Clarke shook her head defiantly. "You don't get it."

Releasing a nervous laugh, Lexa squeezed the hand in her grip in warning. "Clarke--"

"She's an angel. Like with the flappy wingth one. A halo and… 'N a harp, I think. Birkenstockth."

"Well those are certainly all words," Monroe smiled down at the babbling patient.

"She fell down a cliff to lub me," Clarke crooned in high-pitched broken words, her lip starting to tremble again with emotion.

Running a soothing hand through blonde hair, Lexa shook her head at the nurse holding back laughter as she stood to lean over her doped-up wife. "Clarke, sweetheart, shhhh, okay? We're gonna be going home in a minute, so just rest. If you talk too much, the swelling will be worse."

"Thee, look," Clarke said, ignoring Lexa entirely as she flopped a hand in the general direction of Lexa's face. "She's still got a lil thcar on her eye... I kith it when she's thleeping."

Head rolling back towards the nurse, Clarke looked up with a deadpan warning.

"Don't tell her that though."

"It'll be our little secret," Monroe winked before moving toward the door. "Okay, Mrs. Griffin, I'm gonna go get you the rest of your aftercare info and a wheelchair, and then you can get this one home."

Lexa breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Thanks, Monroe."

"No problem, just sit tight."

The door clicked shut as the woman left, Lexa taking her seat again to fire off a text to Raven to let her know they'd be done soon. A hush fell over the room as she slid her phone back into her pocket before lifting her head… and seeing her wife glaring daggers at the closed door.

"What?"

Blue eyes rolled to her with what Lexa supposed could be defined as righteous indignation.

"I think that bith was flirtin' with me."

"Clarke," Lexa gasped and her mouth dropped open. "Do not call her that."

"She got all winky with me," Clarke argued, mimicking the move by seductively winking with both eyes. "I know what that meansth."

"Sweetheart, she was not flirting with you."

"She's trying to busth up a happy home. Make me get a divorce."

"She wasn't. She just thought you were being goofy."

"I'm not goofy… You're goofy."

Lexa simply sighed. "I am goofy, you're right."

"I know," Clarke nodded as Lexa tucked back a wayward curl behind Clarke's ear. "... 'N fuckin' 'winky' out there-"

"Clarke, stop."

"You tell her to sthop," Clarke frowned. "I'm married and she nid- no- needs to knock it off."

"I'll tell her that, okay?"

Clarke merely sighed, head falling to the side as stared over at Lexa through several slow blinks. "I can't feel my lipth."

"They're still there. Pretty as ever."

"I think they took my tongue away."

"I hope not. Definitely need that for later."

Clarke perked up at that.

"Are we gonna have thex later?"

"No," Lexa chuckled. "You're high as a kite, love. And you're going to be in a lot of pain in just a little bit, so I think it's gonna be a while before-"

Her words cut off as Clarke's bottom lips scrunched together, eyes filling with tears yet again.

"Oh, don't cry," Lexa hushed through a laugh as she scooted closer, carefully cradling her wife's face in her palms. She swept the pad of her thumb along the delicate row of lashes, collecting the dewy droplets before they could fall.

"You don't wanna have thex with me anymore," Clarke sniffled.

"I always want to have sex with you, Clarke," Lexa assured with a smile, rolling her eyes at the entire trainwreck of a conversation. "But you just had surgery, so for now you have to heal first."

"... Heal first?"

"Yes," Lexa nodded definitively. "Heal first, then sex. I promise."

Clarke seemed to debate the matter for a moment, her eyes shifting in and out of focus as Lexa ran fingers through the tendrils of her hair.

"Okay," Clarke finally conceded, giving a lazy shrug of her shoulder as all traces of sadness suddenly vanished from her face.

Lexa snorted as she pulled back, glad to have seemingly navigated that particular minefield successfully. A quiet knock on the door pulled her attention away as the door eased open and Monroe walked backward into the room.

"Alright, Clarke," she announced, pivoting around to pull a wheelchair up to the side of the recovery chair. "Your chariot awaits, m'lady."

"Oh look, winky'th back. Mleeeh."

Monroe's face pulled to the side in confusion, her gaze darting to Lexa who could only close her eyes and shake her head in answer. Biting her lips to seemingly hold back an amused response, the nurse gave a tiny nod of understanding as she moved to help the patient currently losing a battle with a blanket.

"Alrighty. Anyway. Ready to head home, Mrs. Griffin?"

"Griffin-Woodth," Clarke immediately groaned as she lumbered to her feet, one arm hooked through Lexa's while the other elbowed the nurse away. "We're a team."

Monroe lifted her hands up in surrender when Lexa grunted against Clarke's struggling and gave up on their coaxing method of transport, instead moving to wrap an arm around Clarke's waist to bodily shuffle her into the wheelchair. Easing her wife down in the seat, Lexa dodged a sloppy kiss aimed at her cheek.

"Hang on, sweetheart, you're bleeding again," she rushed out before Clarke could become emotionally unglued at her rebuff, mechanically moving to ransack the sterile tray still off to the side to grab a few fresh bundles of gauze.

Squatting down, Lexa tipped Clarke's head forward by her chin, thanking everything holy when her wife let her mouth fall open at her urging. Swapping out the soaked gauze for fresh ones and escaping unscathed from the teasing nip of teeth at her fingers, Lexa tenderly wiped Clarke's chin clean before tossing the rolls in the biohazard bin and moving to wash her hands.

"Well at least we know she's all set for home aftercare," Monroe said with a grin as Lexa shook her hands off and wiped them dry on a few paper towels.

Ears pinking at the statement, Lexa ditched the towels in the bin as well and made her way back over. "Yeah, sorry. Force of habit. Working inside of a hospital and being married to a doctor for four years, you just kinda get used to it."

"A lot of spouses can be a little put-off by the blood and drool."

"She drools when she sleeps anyway," Lexa shrugged, gathering up the paperwork they needed and stuffing them inside Clarke's purse. Placing the bag over her shoulder, Lexa leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her wife's forehead. "You ready to go home, love?"

"Mhmmmm," Clarke hummed with a dopey bob of her head.

Lexa held the door open as the nurse started wheeling Clarke out, her eyes doing a scan of the room to make sure they had everything. A quick jog let her catch up to the pair as they neared the patient checkout, Clarke babbling Monroe's ear off the entire way.

"Hey, sexy," a voice shouted as the doors of the clinic slid open. "Get your fine ass over here."

Lexa smiled at the call as she looked up from the soggy flow of words her wife was directing at seemingly no one in particular.

"Wabeeeen," Clarke called back in a throaty haze of excitement, her head and hand not holding an ice-pack wobbling back and forth in a bizarre kind of drugged-up celebration dance. "Baby, Waben's here."

"I know," Lexa said as Monroe wheeled them toward the SUV parked by the curb. "She drove us here. And now she's gonna give us a ride home, remember?"

"That'th nice of her... She's tho nice," Clarke sniffled as they pulled to a stop. Lexa could barely hold back a sputter of laughter at that, giving Clarke a conciliatory nod.

"Sure she is. We'll go with that."

"Jesus, Griff, what'd they do to you?"

Lexa's head snapped up to level their friend with a warning glare after blue eyes turned to her and started welling up all over again.

"Because ya look great!" Raven very expertly added, pulling her lips back in apology before spinning around toward her car and opening the door. "Okay, let's get you up and in, princess. Chop chop."

Scoffing at that pathetic display, Lexa pulled the purse off of her shoulder and shoved it in Raven's general direction as she rounded to the front of the wheelchair.

"You ready to get in, love?" she asked as she squatted down in front of her wife. "Me and Monroe are gonna help, okay?"

"No."

"Clarke--"

"I can walk mythelf."

"Let us help."

"You really shouldn't walk by yourself, Mrs. Griffin."

Clarke scowled at the nurse, a mumbled "Griffin-Woodth" floating between them as Lexa straightened back up.

"Don't make me do it, Clarke."

Blue eyes swung back around to her, a defiant glint coloring them… once they'd stopped rolling in Clarke's head.

"You're gonna be mad at yourself later," Lexa reminded. She waited a long moment as her wife stubbornly stared back. Shoulders slumping in defeat, Lexa stepped aside with a sigh and nodded toward the car.

Raven smiled and shook her head as she raised a knuckle and rapped twice on the darkened window.

"You owe me five bucks, Woods," Raven said as the door popped open.

"Yeah, yeah," Lexa frowned and shuffled aside to make room. "Excuse me for siding with my wife."

"Well in all fairness, it was a really dumb bet."

"Thank you," Lexa drawled as her friend stepped out.

Anya only shrugged as she closed the door behind her. Stepping to the wheelchair, she pulled up the sleeves of her long black coat and smirked down. "So we meet again, Clarke."

"Anya!" Clarke cheered, throwing her hand up to awkwardly pat the woman on the arm. Twisting around to look at the nurse behind her, Clarke hushed her voice and added, "She's an angel too, ya know?"

"Is that right?"

"Mhm. Our guard- our garden- our gardenia angel. But she kinda thucks at it. Don't tell her I thaid that though."

Anya's spine snapped to attention at the words, her glare darting between Lexa and the nurse eyeing the strangeness of her thick, dark outfit in the middle of L.A. heat with curiosity. Letting out a nervous chuckle, Lexa minutely shook her head and grabbed Clarke's hand to get her attention.

"Yes, sweetheart, everyone here's an angel. Let's get you in the car now, 'kay?"

"Yes," Monroe said as she seemed to blink herself out of whatever thoughts she'd been having, instead walking to the side of the wheelchair and flipping on the breaks. "Time to go, Mrs. Griffin… Woods. Griffin-Woods," she tacked on at the narrowing of Clarke's eyes before glancing up at the woman across from her. "You wanna grab that side?"

"Don't worry about it, just step back," Raven said as she helped Lexa guide the nurse up and away. "It'll be easier this way 'cause grouchy ass likes to fight anyone helping her."

With that, Anya crouched down and slid one arm beneath the bend of Clarke's knees, the other snaking between her arm and waist to wrap around her back.

"Up we go," Anya murmured and lifted Clarke out of the seat, ignoring the lazy protests from her passenger as she kicked aside the wheelchair with ease. Monroe grappled to grab and right the seat as Lexa refused to look at her, instead letting her head fall into her hand at the entire display.

Raven opened the backseat door as wide as it would go when Anya stepped forward.

"Clarke, tuck your head into me like you do Lexa," Anya said as she bent to scoot the woman through the door of the car, only to yank back a moment later with a garbled yell of disgust. "Not like that!"

"Anya--"

"She licked me!"

"You thaid like Lexa."

"Why did I agree to not film this?" Raven groaned and flopped back against the side of the car.

"Can we please get this shit show on the road," Lexa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she took control of the chaos and began rattling off instructions. "Clarke, no licking. Anya, just get her in the car. Raven, you agreed because your friend, my wife, is a very well-respected doctor and teacher, and having a video of her licking a random woman's neck wouldn't be great for her career. Now, go start the car. Monroe… I don't even know. Thank you? And I'm sorry about all of this."

The nurse simply smiled as she reached down to unlock the wheels again and looped around back toward the clinic. "Don't worry about it. Happens more often than you'd think. She'll be out of it for a bit, but just roll with it. Keep everything clean, read the aftercare instructions, and call if you have any questions."

Exchanging a final nod of goodbye, the nurse left the group and went back inside.

"Okay, put her in, Ahn. I'll meet you on the other side."

With a disgruntled huff, Anya gave the woman in her arms another wary glance and moved to settle her into the backseat. Lexa rushed around the back of the SUV and flung the door open, slipping in and across the bench seat in the back as Anya leaned in and set Clarke down.

"Hey, Clarke? I'm gonna buckle you in now," Lexa said as she accepted the seat belt clasp Anya stretched out for her.

Clarke glared between the two of them, her hands swatting at her sides. "I'm not a child. I can do it mythelf."

"You just licked Anya's neck in the middle of a parking lot," Raven pointed out as she started the engine. "And that was after you told a random stranger that she's a whole ass angel."

"Yeah, she told her I was one inside as well," Lexa said as she clicked the buckle in place.

"Hence why we're not exactly trusting you or your motor functions right now, babe."

"But she is an angel. You are an angel," Clarke hummed, sending a hazy look of adoration to her wife while Lexa draped a blanket over her lap. "You're my angel."

"Say angel again," Raven snorted and slipped on a pair of sunglasses.

"... Sure doesn't fuck like an angel though."

"Ew, no!" Anya thundered and flung herself backward out of the door frame, dramatically heaving twice before slamming the door shut hard enough to rock the entire car.

"Clarke," Lexa hissed as her wife continued to leer.

"Huh?"

Anya grunted as she whipped the front door open and climbed in. "Why did I agree to come to this?"

Clarke's lips pooched as she sent a very wet sounding smooch in Lexa's direction. "Don't be mad, baby. I like that you're nasty in bed."

"Oh my G-- Lexa, will you please muzzle her. No one wants to hear this."

"Speak for yourself," Raven gleefully cut in as she started to pull away. "Get it, Griff! Tell us the really freaky shit."

"She lets me--"

"Clarke!" Lexa yelled while leaning forward to get her attention. Glazed eyes blinked at her in slow passes as a pout spread across Clarke's face. Sighing when she was sure she had her wife's attention, Lexa reached up and tugged a curl of blonde behind her ear. "... I promise you, whatever it was you wanted to say just now, you would wholeheartedly regret saying it later. Especially to Raven."

"That's fair actually," Raven called back as she moved them through midmorning traffic.

Clarke shifted to reach for Lexa's hand, assuring her in what Lexa supposed could be a valiant attempt at a whisper. "Don't worry, baby. I wasn't gonna tell 'em about the butt stuff."

Eyes sliding closed as a chorus of retching mingled with cackling laughter from the front seat, Lexa sat back in her seat and ran a hand through her hair.

"Not a word."

"I'm not saying anything," Raven choked out through the dying rolls of her laughter.

The car fell quiet as they drove, Lexa looking out the window and letting her mind drift. She watched the cars and hills of the outskirts of L.A. fly past as they wound their way home. Despite… well, everything, she was glad this was finally over; the final expense officially checked off of their list of 'to-do's'. She idly tapped her fingers on the leather of her seat and admired the green hillsides, smiling to herself as she thought of what came next.

They hadn't told anyone when they'd made the decision to start looking through private listings, Lexa having sworn Anya to secrecy until they'd figured out an actual plan. She wondered if she'd miss the familiar drive to their apartment, the only home she'd truly known on Earth. She was excited, if not a little nervous, but ready to take the next step with the… absolute mess of a woman beside her.

Letting her head lull back over to check on her patient, Lexa startled a bit to find watery, blue eyes already staring back.

"What's the matter?" she hushed in a soft and concerned voice, scooting closer as she reached up to brush away a rogue tear.

"You're really hot... And tho pretty."

Rolling her eyes at the dreamy words, Lexa grinned back. "Not as pretty as you."

"My wife'th gonna be tho mad at me," Clarke whined and shook her head.

"... Why is your wife going to be mad at you?" she asked with a quirk of her brow.

"'Cause I think you're really hot," Clarke confessed through a fresh wave of tears.

"Seriously can you like, knock her out or something?"

"Shut up, Anya," Lexa said as she scooted the remaining distance between them. "Clarke, darling, I promise, your wife won't be mad at you for thinking I'm hot."

"How do you know?"

"Because she's your wife, genius," Anya drawled. "I still can't believe they trust that woman with human lives."

"You're just a little doped up right now," Lexa soothed even as reached out to flick her friend on the ear. "Don't worry though, I'll take care of everything. You just relax."

Clarke blinked owlishly at her for a minute, Lexa clearly able to see the cogs grinding to life through the fog of the drugs. She smiled and nodded as Clarke's face suddenly lit up, eyebrows shooting upward as her mouth dropped open.

"Oh yeah," Clarke beamed, her head wobbling back and forth as she flopped around a little in her seat. "That is you, innit. I forgot, ha. That'th crazy."

"It is."

"Man, I am high."

"You are."

"You should kith me."

"I should not."

Lexa nearly groaned as soon as the words left her mouth.

Clarke's face fell into a devastated frown, her lip trembling as her head fell to her shoulder. "You don't wanna kith me."

"Clarke, no, that's not it--"

"I knew it. I'm tho ugly now you won't kith me anymore."

"Oh my God, stop. Just, hang on," Lexa huffed. "Raven, do you have napkins or Kleenex in here? Anything?"

She waited as Anya rifled through the glovebox, accepting the fistful of napkins along with a deep look of disdain when she passed them back. Gently cradling her wife's chin, Lexa tilted her face back up.

"I'm gonna make you a deal," she murmured as she dabbed away as much blood and spit from Clarke's lips as she could. "I will kiss you. But. You have to let me kiss you. You just sit there, okay?"

Clarke bobbed her head in a tiny nod, Lexa's heart squeezing tight at the sad but hopeful face still cradled in her palm. Once she deemed those lips as clean as she could ever hope for given the situation, Lexa tossed the soiled napkins into the seat beside her.

Bringing her other hand up, Lexa held her wife's face between her palms, a smile spreading over her lips as she took in the sight of her. The sight of laugh lines that had begun reaching out from the corners of baby blues, their recent appearance reminding Lexa how happy their life together had proven to be. She admired the few twists of grey that weaved in and out of silken blonde, the effect of them making the woman look all the more distinguished.

Running her thumbs over the apples of delicate cheekbones, Lexa leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to her wife's lips. She hummed at the familiar feeling, soft and sweet as ever, her movements steady and light so as to not cause any pain. Pulling away, she left a last peck on Clarke's upper lip, forever a slave to sealing the little beauty mark with a kiss.

"Better?" she whispered as she watched Clarke's eyes flutter back open.

Clarke was quiet as she stared back, a long moment passing before she heaved a defeated sigh.

"I couldn't feel it."

Lexa did her best to bite back a snort of laughter, head dropping forward as her chest shook with the effort. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll kiss you plenty to make up for it when you feel better, I promise."

"We're here, lovebirds," Raven announced as she pulled to a stop outside of their apartment building. Lexa squeezed her shoulder over the top of the seat in thanks as she reached for the handle. "I'm gonna stay here so my lazy ass doesn't have to find a place to park, but I'm gonna call you guys later, okay?"

Grunting in acceptance as she opened her door, Lexa hopped out and ran around the back of the car to meet Anya on the other side. A few petulant protests and a very one sided bartering war later, Lexa pressed the button to shut the doors of the elevator in their building.

Sighing as she all but collapsed back against the rail of the elevator, Lexa reached out a hand to nudge her friend's shoulder.

"Thanks again, Ahn."

"Yeah, whatever," Anya grumbled, adjusting her grip on the woman sagged at her side.

If Lexa had had the energy she would've laughed at the pair of them, knowing full well Anya was supporting every inch of the woman's weight despite Clarke's staunch insistence that she could walk.

She reminded herself that her wife's stubbornness was part of why she loved her.

"Okay, here we go," Lexa rallied as the doors slid open on their floor. "Last stretch, love, and then you can rest."

"I wanna make nachos."

"Yeah, we'll have to see about that," Lexa shook her head as she jogged ahead to unlock the door, holding it open as Anya all but dragged Clarke through the entrance of their apartment.

"Where should I put her?"

"Bedroom."

"No," Clarke said with enough ferocity it startled the pair, taking Anya particularly by surprise when she elbowed her way out of the hold and launched herself toward the couch.

Lexa felt her heart jump up into her throat as Clarke nosedived toward the cushions, landing face first into the set of pillows.

"Clarke!" she yelped, darting around the couch and crouching over her. Biting back a twitch of annoyance, Lexa pulled the woman upward and helped her flip over. "Jesus, you have got to be more careful. You could've really hurt yourself."

"I'm fine, baby," Clarke slurred, glassy eyes shining behind the low droop of her lids. "I don't feel anything. You could punch me right in the mouf and I'd be fine."

"I'm not going to punch you."

"I might."

"Goodbye, Anya. Thank you for helping," Lexa blindly called over her shoulder, "but you can go now. Raven's waiting."

"Right, right, right," Anya said, rapping a knuckle on the wall as she turned to go. "I'll leave you to take care of the little missus. Call if you need anything. Feel better, doc."

"Byeeeeeeeeee," Clarke sing-songed out to her before the door closed, shimmying in place as Lexa helped her adjust on to her back. "She's gonna go makeout with Waben."

"What else is new," Lexa grinned and pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch.

Lexa moved to take off Clarke's shoes and socks, leaning down to peck a quick kiss to the wiggly toes before tucking them under the blanket as well. After placing the shoes in their home along the front hall of their apartment, she moved to ditch the balled up socks in the laundry despite the disgruntled yowl from the plump feline stationed on top of their washer.

The jingle of Penny's collar followed her as she went about collecting the supplies listed on the aftercare sheet, piling a tiny tray up with gauze squares, water, pain medicine, and snacks.

"That'd not nachoth," Clarke said with a sleepy grump of a frown as Lexa laid the tray on the coffee table beside her.

"Not nachos. No crunchy stuff, unfortunately. Doctor's orders. But may I offer you a bowl of our finest applesauce?"

"This is bullthit."

"I know."

"You did this to me, and I'll neber forgib you."

"I know."

"Will you cuddle wif me?"

Smiling down at her wife, Lexa simply nodded and quickly tied her back into a ponytail.

"Scooch," she hummed, toeing off her shoes before gingerly climbing over to the opposite side. Lowering herself as gently as possible, Lexa fit herself into the snug space between her wife and the back of their couch. She wriggled down enough to make sure she was safe from knocking into the already swollen jaw.

"Better?" Lexa whispered as she rested her head on Clarke's chest and draped an arm around her waist.

"Mhm," Clarke said, the drowsy weight of her hum sounding peaceful and warm.

"You can't sleep with those things in your mouth."

"Not thleepin'."

Giving up that fight before it could start and deciding she'd just slip them out once the woman dozed off, Lexa snuggled in deeper, breathing in calming lungfuls of her wife's scent.

The day had been insane, which after four years of marriage she was generally used to, but overall Lexa couldn't help but pat herself on the back. She knew when the medicine started to wear off they'd both be in a world of pain, but for now, she let herself relax into the peace of the moment.

Which was promptly broken by the faint buzz of Clarke's phone.

Sighing in annoyance, Lexa dug her hand under the blanket and into Clarke's pocket to pull it out. She thumbed in the passcode, muscle memory having her click 1203 for their anniversary without a thought, and tapped to open the notification.

Asshole (11:42 a.m.): so... you're gonna tell me about that butt stuff thing later right?

"For fuck's sake, Raven." With a disgusted sigh, Lexa closed out the message and slapped the phone on the table.

Snuggling back into the snoozing body beneath her, Lexa decided she'd just have to deal with that later.

#sorry for the ugly ass moodboard just go with it #clexa #clexaweek 21 #clexaweek 21 day 6 #day 6 magic #CoA

[thedaddie]

@flwrstrawberry

hi! i saw your haikyuu matchups post and thought it would be fun to try out lol. i’ve never really done anything like this before so sorry if it’s kinda wrong haha

i am female and go by she/her pronouns.

i’m 5’1 and have a slim/athletic body type. i have black hair that’s super messy (it literally looks like a rats nest lol) that sits just above my shoulders and my eyes are light brown.

i am an ambivert to the core though i prefer to be introverted. i’m still pretty obnoxious and can be quite loud, though, often to mess with my friends. i love reading classical literature, painting/digital art, and creative writing! i am relatively quiet and reserved but super chaotic when i get close with people.

also my zodiac is taurus and my mbti personality is isfp!

thank you so much :D

hi hi! thank you for requesting!! i match you with…

ATSUMU MIYA

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS SUPREMACYYYYY

you and the miya twins have been BESTIES since practically birth

you guys went everywhere together, had weekly sleepovers, etc

then as you guys got older you realized that atsumu, despite being loud and dramatic, was actually pretty cute

and on the other side of things, atsumu was getting over his “girls have cooties” phase (because he totally believed in that cmon) and thinking the same about you

but i know FOR A FACT it wasn’t a one and done confession

this shit went on for YEARSSSSS

osamu was sitting there hearing both of you talk about each other from mf middle school to high school

then finally one day he left y’all alone in a room together because he was DONE (his last straw was tsumu calling him WHILE SAMU WAS ON A DATE to talk about the fact that you said tsumu was funny 😐)

when he came back tsumu was holding your hand like (´∀｀)♡

anywayz

tsumu just adores you!!

he loves that he can just pick you up and engulf you in giant hugs bc ur so small to his 6 foot ass

since you guys are so close, he sees both sides of you! he cant choose a favorite!

because on one hand your quiet side can calm him down, make him relax and get more in tune with his emotions

and on the other hand your chaotic side matches his own, y’all are practically bouncing off the walls when you’re alone together

if you’re feeling particularly introverted, he’ll always be your voice! you want a drink? he’ll order it for you!! someone is standing in front of your locker? hey buddy scoot over!!

yknow tsumu isnt typically a huge fan of reading, but damn! your book recommendations? five stars

he even picked up his own copy of pride and prejudice 🥲

he loves watching you make art! whether it’s digitally or painting he sits behind you and watches your process like a hawk

“tsumu i’m just painting a tree” “😑 but how”

if you’re comfortable with it, atsumu would love to read your creative writing!

he swears that you’re the next big name in literature (going down in the high school english curriculum type shit 😌)

also little headcanon, you helped him bleach his hair 😫

he tried to convince you to do it with him

“tsumu no way” “just one little strip 🥺☝️”

now onto your zodiac signs! taurus and libra :)

your signs are hopeless romantics to the core. considering the origin of your relationship (straight out of a fanfiction) you both are sure you’ve been swept off your feet!

one thing you’re good at with atsumu is bringing out his inner feelings, which is not only healthy for him, but for your relationship as a whole

embracing the ugly parts of yourselves and each other is the key to making this relationship survive

and with personality types, isfp and entp, you guys naturally have very different views on the world

you’re more down to earth while entp atsumu is a little in the clouds

but your differences are what bring you together!!

atsumu inspires you to slow down and appreciate things for what they are while you teach him to get out of his head a bit :)

in the end, osamu hates you guys bc you’re so disgustingly cute

—

moodboard:

another dash of gold there, a splotch of brown there…

you were sitting quietly in your room, painting carefully on a peaceful afternoon. it was one of your favorite pass times and such a beautiful way to relax-

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your door opening quickly. you whipped around, watching as atsumu barely made it 5 steps into the room before collapsing on your bed, groaning loudly and dramatically.

you rolled your eyes playfully, turning back to your painting.

“im guessing practice wasn’t great?”

“no, i’m still the best.”

“that wasn’t what i said-“

“samu was just so irritating today, that’s why i came here.”

you make a small sound of acknowledgment, doing some finishing touches on your painting.

“i was reading that book you told me to,” atsumu spoke up.

“oh yeah?”

“yeah! pride and prejudice! i bought my own copy and everything!” you take a quick glance at him, giggling at the proud smile on his face.

“what do you think so far?”

“like what is ms. bennett doing? and caroline is bitch.”

“valid.”

“hey, what’re you doing?” you hear him sit up from behind you.

“wait, wait! it’s a surprise!” you angle yourself so he can’t see while you do one last flick of paint. “ok are you ready?” atsumu raises an eyebrow, not sure what to prepare himself for.

you turn the canvas around and watch his face change.

“BABE! YOU PAINTED ME?” you nod excitedly. he jumps up and attacks you with a tight hug. “you’re the sweetest, i love you.”

—

songs for your matchup :)

thank you again for requesting!! hope you enjoyed :)

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #🌷matchups #haikyuu #hq matchups #hq fluff #atsumu fluff #atsumu drabble #haikyuu drabbles #hq drabbles #miya atsumu #Spotify

[springday-aus]

Disney Prince!AU with Wonho [Hoseok]

★ Wonho [Lee Hoseok] as Disney’s Hercules ★

moodboard link 

Group: Monsta X

Member: Lee Wonho / Hoseok

Genre: fluff, romance

part of the Disney Prince series 

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: 1.9k

born a demigod

son of Zeus and a mortal mother

he absolutely adores his mother

he’s not ashamed to say he’s a mama’s boy

on the other hand, he doesn’t really like to talk about his father

especially since he has these powers

the power of physical strength….

he’s not sure if they’re a good thing or a bad thing

like, sure he likes that he can help the elders carry stuff

you know, like their animals when they’ve broken a leg

or moving their houses to more convenient places

the whole village loves him bc they literally saw him grow up as a kid

he turned out so well for someone without a father

don’t be fooled—he can literally physically crush you like a grape, but he’s literally the sweetest boy

anyways

he’s been living normally

despite the whole ability to rip off a 100 year old tree

and lift up a wall 

or a house

or a 200 pound horse 

his life has been fairly normal up until the incident

one day, when Hoseok was about 16 years old

a couple of kids were stuck underneath a rock

okay, an understatement

it was a huge ass boulder

anyways

these kids were stuck underneath and Hoseok lifted it to let the kids out

since that day, the elders called him Wonho

meaning a brave lion, the protector of the village

since that day, he’s been doing around helping others a bit more 

he started putting himself out there to help people 

it was small but these tasks got gradually bigger

it started from saving kids

to fighting against monsters

to saving the entire universe (but that��s another story)

next thing he knew the entire village was calling him a hero

there were statues made of his figure 

his face was slapped on e v e r y t h i n g 

the gods made a star alignment for his stature

he became one of the most famous faces

some just like to call him a Greek god that fell from the heavens

he still blushes every time someone calls him that

the ladies swoon the hardest when he’s on his Pegasus high in the sky

and the light shines oh so perfectly to emphasize his perfect, chiseled face

geez this man is very attractive and he doesn’t even know it

moving on

it’s important to remember that he did not get to this position alone

he was able to train with/under Hyunwoo

Wonho wanted to understand how he can be a better hero

to protect the ones he loves

and those in the community 

he is such a good boy, I want to cry

anyways

he heard about how Hyunwoo trains heroes the best so he made his way over and

here he is

even after completing his training, he continues to work on himself

so if he can’t sleep or when people don’t need help

he would be in the gymnasium to work out

or he’d be doing practice training in an abandoned field that Hyunwoo had set up

as he got older, all he really does is help people and train to be better at what he’s doing

since he’s been helping out, the chaos has decreased significantly and he finds himself wandering elsewhere for adventure

this is how he meets you 

I mean, you wouldn’t say you were in danger

but also, you were in the woods and you didn’t know this one all that well

and you may or may not have ended up messing with this lake monster that you def shouldn’t have been messing with

so there you are

in the middle of a lake

being held hostage by some

ugly troll ass, centaur thing

(tbh, you couldn’t really tell what he was, a river guardian???)

I literally mean held btw

you were literally in this creep’s hand bc he’s the size of a giant

so Wonho was walking around the forest with Pegasus, trying to find a new place and see if anyone needed his help

and very faintly he hears something from the distance

“if you don’t put me down, I swear to cut off your balls and rip off your—”

oo he didn’t wanna hear that

but he still rushes towards it

that’s when he spots you in this monster’s hand, struggling to get out

he slowly approaches you two

Wonho: “uh, excuse me? sir? could you, um, let them go?”

you speak up first, without taking two glances at him

You: “keep moving junior, I can handle this—have a nice day”

you flash him a sarcastic smile, hoping he’ll move along with his day

but he doesn’t 

instead his shoulders kind of drop for a second, slightly disheartened, but only for a second

because he stands up straighter and pulls out his sword

Wonho: “you might be too close to his situation—I’m sorry to do this without your consent, but I have to do my job”

before anyone can say anything else, Wonho dives in and does what he does best

he fights off the bad guy

next thing you knew, you fell into the water and it’s all a blur

you fished yourself out, trying to dry off

Wonho managed to punch the living daylights out of the river guardian so he was just passed out and drowning in the river

but who cares about him

after Wonho ensures he’s not dead, but unconscious

(and Pegasus does his little cheer for him)

he moves over to you

Wonho: “..... hey”

You: “hi”

Wonho: “are you okay?”

You: “after getting all the water out of my ears, I’ve decided that I’ve been better”

Wonho: “sorry… about that—it was kind of stupid, I should have thought that out better”

You: “you think?”

you eye him up and down as you try to dry off your shoes

You: “they give you a name with those rippling pectorals?”

Wonho flushes, laughing rather awkwardly

Wonho: “they call me Wonho, but you can just call me Hoseok…”

you look at him again

he turns into a deeper shade of red under your eyes

You: “I prefer Wonder Boy”

he lets out another small laugh

Wonho: “what’s—what’s your name?”

you give him yours, as you wring out the bottom of your shirt into the water

he repeats it, with a small smile on his face

Wonho: “soooo, how’d you get mixed up with the—”

you finish for him

You: “the pinhead with hooves?”

he lets a little laugh out

it’s kind of cute

You: “well, you know how men are, they think no means yes and get lost means take me, I’m yours”

you let out an airy laugh as Wonho stands there confused

You: “don’t worry about it, Wonder Boy, you’ll figure it out eventually”

you stand up, ignoring the water that continues to drip down

You: “well, Seok, thanks for the help, but I gotta bounce”

Wonho: “ah…”

he can’t really hide his disappointment: “where—where are you going?”

You: “oh, you know, here and there”

you flash a smile at him: “I’ll see you around”

Wonho: “how?”

You: “life has its ways… bye bye Wonder Boy”

you walk off and disappear into the woods

Wonho finds himself still looking off, even as your figure disappears

Pegasus huffs at him, almost mockingly at how mesmerized he is at your presence

he turns to Pegasus and points a finger at him, as if he’s scolding him

Wonho: “not a word”

he continues to go on and eventually stumbles into a little town

…. your little town :)

obviously he didn’t realize

until he saw you again about a week later

you were hanging around a fruit stand that belonged to your friend’s 

you looked just as beautiful as he remembers 

and less angry 

Wonho: “hey” :)

You: “Wonder Boy, back to me so soon, miss me that much?”

Wonho: “yeah, I did”

oh

you didn’t expect him to be so straightforward

You: “so, you’re just hanging around town?”

Wonho: “it’s kind of like that”

You: “I heard some hero killed the monstrous lion, I should’ve realized it was you Wonder Boy”

Wonho: “ahhh…”

he flushes once again, rubbing the back of his neck

Wonho: “I—I’m no hero”

You: “sure you are, just remember, you are in a new town, take a break while you can”

You: “I will warn you though, it’s hard to find pretty sights in this dump”

Wonho: “I don’t think it’ll be that hard…. not without a guide at least…”

you look at him with a raised eyebrow

Wonho: “tHAt’S iF yoU wANT…. yoU don’T hAVE TO….”

you let out a laugh as he continues to flush into a darker red

he’s a cute boy, might as well shoot your shot

you wave to your friend as a silent goodbye and slowly start to walk off

without looking behind you, you shout out

You: “you coming, Wonder Boy?”

Wonho snaps out of his daydream that’s right in front of him

Wonho: “yes ma’am”

and thus the start of a beautiful relationship

Disney Prince!Wonho is as wonderful as it sounds

he already adores the life out of you

and he basically worships the ground you walk on

(as if you were the one with Greek god genes)

you, on the other hand, think he’s like a little puppy

a puppy that can kill you with his strength 

but a puppy

he loves praise

he needs attention

he loves affection

he’s basically a soft, gigantic puppy

this view kind of changed when you saw him in action

I mean you did see him in action that one time

but his life wasn’t really in danger

and lowkey he looks hot fighting

but like….

when he killed the Stymphalian Birds…

when he captured the cattle of Geryon….

I guess you kind of drew the line when you saw Cerberus on your front lawn

(he’s absolutely more adorable than people said, but it is still a three headed giant dog)

you were just concerned for him and the danger he was putting himself in

and Wonho kind of ate that shit up

but he did console you

he became a lot more careful to consider your feelings

that did mean more official training with Hyunwoo

but anything to make you happy

anyways

most of the time,  he stays to help the village

the elderly and kiddos there have grown to love him

I mean what’s not to love but

anyways

sometimes he does have to travel a bit farther for the king or something

but he always brings back some type of souvenir for you

he loves to spoil you

when he went to the Amazon, you got the most gorgeous flowers

another time, he brought some golden apples for you

he says it’s to make up the time away from you

and your heart absolutely melted

his presence makes up for it

he’s great okay

anyways

so you know how Pegasus is like his sidekick?

you two bonded 

he’s not sure how but 

Wonho loves that you and Pegasus get along

but y’all bonded a bit too much 

like you two won’t say anything but it’ll be on your faces when you’re judging him

moving on

you haven’t stopped calling him Wonder Boy

some days he prefers it

others, he prefers it when you call him Seok

so, affection 

this man needs it

whenever he’s in the same space as you

he’s like touch

it’s not like you’re gonna reject it

even if you roll your eyes, you always run into his arms

when he gets back from his trips

he doesn’t let you go for days

**cue you two waddling around because he’s backhugging you**

humor—while most of yours is dry

he still laughs and goes with it

he tells jokes unknowingly

like some of the stuff he says is ridiculous

and you just burst out laughing

you two are just very attuned with one another

very harmonious

very cute

Wonho: “when I’m with you, I don’t feel so alone”

You: “good thing you’re stuck with me then”

Wonho: “I wouldn’t have it any other way”

#admin grandma #grandma aus #aus #fluff #romance #kpop #kpop aus #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #monsta x #monsta x wonho #monsta x aus #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #wonho #lee hoseok #wonho aus #wonho imagines #wonho scenarios #lee hoseok aus #lee hoseok imagines #lee hoseok scenarios #disney prince!au #disney prince!wonho #disney prince!hoseok #group: monsta x #member: wonho #member: lee hoseok

[sherrybaby14]

The Option VII.V

Option 7.5

 A/N:  This is a mini-chapter of The Option, but it has no plot in it whatsoever and could probably be read as a one-shot. If you’re reading The Option for reasons other than the raunchiness you can skip this.  

Summary:  Bucky doesn’t like it when you say no.  

Pairing:  Dark!Bucky x Naïve!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Plot what plot? PORN! I’m going to mark this as DUBIOUS/NON CONSENSUAL SEX. (If you’re looking for hardcore dark, not really It’s sort of manipulation though).  It also might make you change how you’ve viewed the previous sex scenes.  

Words: 3k

Moodboard by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (thanks Love!)  

               Thick white flakes fell from the sky at an outstanding rate.  You peeked out the blinds and wondered if it was ever going to let up.  There must have been at least three feet on the ground at this point.  

                 “Come back to bed.”  Bucky came up behind you, snaking his arm around your waist and kissing your neck.  

                 “Are the animals alright?”  You looked toward the barn.  

                 “Their fine.”  Bucky sniffed your hair. “Maybe getting a little stir crazy.”  

                 “I can relate.” You folded your arms.

                 “What does that mean?”  Bucky went back to your neck and pulled you tighter against him. “Not having fun being snowbound with me?”  

                 “That’s not what I meant.”  You turned around and put your arms around his neck.  “I feel like I haven’t left the bed for more than an hour at a time.  Not all of us have your stamina.”  

                 Bucky couldn’t go outside to chop wood or tend to the farm, so that meant both of you did the indoor chores, and there weren’t many to do.    

                 “Are you soar?”  Bucky’s face dropped.  

                 “No.”  He always made sure you were more than ready for him.

                 “Are you bored?”  Bucky pulled back.

                 “Of sex?  No!”  You laughed. “I feel like you’re fucking my brains into mush.  Sometimes people need a break.”  

                 “Well if you weren’t so sexy.”  Bucky tucked his hands under your ass and lifted you in the air.  “Maybe I’d be able to keep my hands off of you.”  

                 He needed a hobby outside of your body.  He carried you to the bed and set you down. His hands tugged the bottom of the t-shirt you were wearing, the only article of clothing on your body.    You knew he was going to turn you on again, but you really weren’t in the mood.  

                 “Stop.”  You grabbed the bottom of your shirt.  

                 A hint of rage flashed across his eyes.  Both of you stared at each other for a second, but it felt like a minute.  You’d been with the man for almost three months and that was the first time you’d ever told him no.  It didn’t feel right.  You glanced down toward the bedspread.  

                 “I’m sorry.”  You weren’t sure why you were apologizing.  

                 “Hmm…”  Bucky sat on the bed next to you, clad only in workout pants that hung low on his hips.

                 “You want to call the shots Y/N?”  There was a humor in Bucky’s voice, but hearing your actual name made you whip your head.  

                 He was mad.  That was the only time you weren’t Peach, but he didn’t look mad.  Instead, he had a playful smile on his face.  

                 “I…I didn’t.”  You weren’t sure what to say.  

                 “How about this, let’s play a game.  If you win, for the next week we will only have sexual contact with each other when you initiate?” Bucky held his hands in the air. “I won’t even attempt to touch you unless you make it very clear.”  

                 With the snow you were having sex up to seven times a day, with Bucky always the leader.  A week where you completely set the pace sounded like a vacation from a vacation. You were intrigued.    

                 “And if you win?”  It was a dumb question.  

                 “Business as usual.”  Bucky shrugged.  

                 Was he angry that you said stop? Now it seemed silly. You wanted him, right?  You leaned over to give him a kiss, ready to show that you were sorry for trying to take control.  

                 “Un-un Missy.”  Bucky stood up.  “If you win, then I’m all yours, but until then you keep your hands off.”  

                 You felt a stab of annoyance in your heart. Why did he tell you no?  It flared your urge to touch him.  What?  No! You shook away the thought.  He was messing with you.  

                 Or at least he was up to something.   Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the corner of his room and picked up the ugly upholstered chair.  It looked like it belonged in a dining room more than a bedroom since it didn’t have any arms. You’d never seen him use it before, but he set it right in front of you and took a seat.  

                 “Bucky I shouldn’t have said stop…I don’t want you to ever stop touching me.”  You were so nervous about him being angry with you.  

                 “It’s alright.”  He took your hand.  “Do you want to play?  I think the prize sounds pretty juicy.”  

                 “Okay.”  You stood up from the bed and he pulled you closer.  

                 You had to straddle his lap and started to sit down when he grabbed your hips and stilled you.  

                 You were standing over him, feet flat on the ground and knees slightly bent so you could spread your legs far enough.  

                 “Good.”  Bucky dropped his hands.  “All you have to do is stand like this for ten minutes, without sitting down.  Then you’re in control for an entire week.”

                 Was this supposed to be a gift? Standing like this wasn’t even uncomfortable.  There had to be some hitch you weren’t seeing.  Maybe the pressure on your knees was going to get too much.  

                 “Can I hold on to the chair.”  You reached out and put one hand on either side of Bucky’s head, grabbing the back of the chair to take some weight off so you could go on your tiptoes and straighten your legs.  

                 “Fine by me.”  Bucky looked up at you.  “Are you ready to start?”  

                 You nodded.

                 “Okay.”  Bucky reached out and ran his hand up your side before sliding it forward and cupping your breast.  

                 “Hey.” You pulled one of your arms off the chair and pressed it to your chest.  “That’s cheating.”  

                 “No it’s not.”  Bucky’s other palm went to your thigh and started to slide up your leg.

                 You tugged your other arm off the chair and dropped back to flat feet when you brought it between your legs covering your sex. Bucky pulled both of his hands back and sat still.  

                 “You didn’t go over all the rules.” You spread your legs a little further, bending your knees in the process.  

                 “You didn’t ask.”  Bucky tilted his head and looked at you.  

                 “No touching.”  The position left you slightly higher than him and you had to look down.  

                 “My game, my rules Y/N.” Bucky smiled.

                 It made your heartache when he used your real name. Where was Peach?  Was he mad at you?  This game seemed to have a deeper psychological level you hadn’t considered.

                 “Okay.”  You felt so awkward standing covering yourself.  “What are the rules then?”  

                 “I can touch whatever you’re not covering.” Bucky traced his fingers up your thigh. “You can swat me away, but I can’t swat you away.”  

                 His hand ran over yours, which was at the apex of your thighs, shielding your sex.  You’d barely been standing like this for thirty seconds, but could already tell how uncomfortable this was going to get.  

                 “No.”  You dropped your arms and tried to step back.  “I don’t want to play.  You win.”

                 Bucky grabbed your waist, stopped you and put you back in the same place.  

                 “If you quit.”  Bucky held you still.  “I’ll fuck you up the ass.”  

                 Your jaw dropped in horror and you look down at Bucky who wore a giant smile and batted his eyes at you.  This was the first time he had ever mentioned anything even remotely related to anal.  

                 “That wasn’t the deal.”  You shook your head.

                 “The deal was business as usual.” Bucky’s had grabbed your ass cheek and squeezed.  “Which means I am in control and you listen to me.  Which means if I wanted to fuck you in the ass you would be a good girl and let me.  Isn’t that right Y/N?”  

                  You let out a whimper and nodded your head.  You didn’t know what was worse: the idea of anal, the shame over saying no to Bucky a few minutes ago and how this situation was all your fault or the fact he wouldn’t call you Peach.  

                 “I think we’ll the reset the clock.”  Bucky dropped his hands.  “I want you to take this game seriously.  Give it your all.  I’ll be so proud of you if you win.”  

                   “Bucky, I’m sorry.”  It had only been thirty seconds but there was already an ache in your thighs from the position.  “I shouldn’t have told you to stop.”  

                 “You’re your own person Y/N.”  He tapped his fingers on your leg. “Don’t think about what happened five minutes ago, think about the next ten minutes.”  

                  He kept the smile on his face and his voice sounded overly cheery, but you knew something was off.  Threatening you with sexual experiences you weren’t ready for? He wouldn’t really make you have anal sex?  But you thought about his follow up, how you’d agree to it and he was right.  If he wanted to try it, you would say yes.  But only because you trusted him.  He would help you take pleasure it in, not hurt you.

                 You whimpered.  Unsure if it was from the thought or the burn that was starting to form in your legs.  You wanted to stand up straight and stretch them out, but it was impossible without falling over or grabbing the back of the chair.  

                 “Maybe instead of taking your ass, I’ll go the opposite.  I won’t touch you at all for at least a week.  Maybe ten days.  No kissing, no cuddling, no contact.  Is that what you want?”  

                 “NO!”  You wanted to fall against his chest and have him hold you tight.  

                 “Then why are you so close to sitting down already?” Bucky glanced at you with a raised eyebrow.  

                 You hadn’t noticed, but you’d been slipping, your legs spreading apart.  You groaned as you brought your feet closer, the burning in your thighs intensifying.

               “Please Bucky.”  A tear started to well in your eye.  “I don’t want to play.”  

                 “If your legs hurt take some pressure off. Grab the back of the chair.”  He looked up at you and smiled.  

                 Nobody else would have noticed, but you zeroed in on the flash of rage again.  You were stupid to tell him to stop.  What were you thinking?  Now the idea of rolling between the sheets with him sounded like heaven.  

               When he started touching you, this was just going to get harder.  This was some sort of punishment.  

                 “I’m sorry.”  You tried one last time to get him to forgive you.  

                 “You keep saying that Y/N.”  Bucky pulled his hands away.  “But I don’t understand why you’re sorry.”  

                 “For telling you to stop.”  You were sliding again and bit back a groan as you tried to stand up again.  

                 “That’s the what.”  Bucky shook his head.  “I’m looking for the why.”  

                 “Because I should listen to you.”  The burning started to intensify.  

                 “Why?”  Bucky’s fingers were back on your leg, which had begun to tremble.  

                 “Because you’re the one in control.” A cramp was starting to form.  

                 “Why?”  

                 “Because you know what’s best for me.”  You were answering without thinking, just hoping the result was stopping this game.  

                 “I like that one.”  Bucky looked back up.  “You are capable of so much more than you realize, like winning this game. Now make me proud Y/N.”  

                 “Ahh!”  You had to straighten your leg.  

                 You darted both hands to the back of the chair and went on your tiptoes.  The burning stopped, but you didn’t get to relish in the relief for more than a second until your shirt was flipped up and pulled over your head.  

                 Bucky yanked it down your arms, which you lifted without thinking and the t was gone, leaving you completely nude.  

                 His mouth was on your chest in an instant. You let out a moan when his tongue started circling your nipple,  flicking against it.  His hand slid up your body until it came to your other breast and pinched down hard.

                 “Ahhh!” You through your head back.  “Too much!”  

                 Bucky responded by pinching down even harder. You remembered you could swat him away and brought one of your arms back, covering your breast.  His fingers disappeared from your nip, but it still throbbed with the memory.  

                 “EEE!”  You felt the cold metal of his other hand as a fingertip pressed on your clit.  

                 He started rubbing circles, making you gasp and almost fall over.  

                 “Grr.”  Bucky gave you a warning.  

                 You realized your legs were spread too far apart again.  You moved your hand to the back of the chair again so you could stand up straight easier.

                 Bucky used the opportunity to switch his mouth and he began toying with the nipple he’d so viciously pinched moments ago.  

                 His mouth felt good, but you were more distracted by his thumb on your clit.  You started to rock into his touch, but then he moved his hand away.  

                 You let out a whine, but then it morphed into a shriek. Bucky’s hand returned to your breast and pinched down on your nipple again.  

                 “Owww!”  You tried to jerk away.  

                 “Remember the rules.”  Bucky went back to flicking his tongue.  

                 He started to twist the other nipple and you pulled your hand from the back of the chair to cover yourself and block him again. He let go of your peak immediately, but again the throbbing sent a chill down your spine.  

                 Again his metal thumb returned to your clit and started rubbing.  You let out a moan.  These were the sort of touches you wanted.  

                 Don’t rock your body.  Bucky was in control.  That was the point of this lesson after all.  A lesson.  You sighed in relief.  That’s what this stupid game was.

                 “Ahhh.”  He started circling faster and sucking on your chest harder.  

                 Your legs were starting to spread again.  You had to support yourself or else you would fall, so your hand once again returned to the back of the chair and you closed your legs as much as you could, going up on the balls of your feet to relieve some of the burn in your thigh.  

                 He was working your clit in the exact way you loved, speeding up and bringing your body to life.  If he made you cum in this position, there was no way you would stay standing. You tried to block out the tightening spring inside of you.

                 “Mmmmm.”  One of Bucky’s fingers was outside of your entrance.  

                 It was so tempting to lower yourself onto him, all of a sudden the urge to be filled was so inviting.  You went down to your flat feet without thinking.  

                 “EEEKK!”  Bucky’s teeth nipped at you.  

                 Immediately you covered yourself with your hand. Bucky moved his head away from your chest and looked at you.  He continued to rub your bundle of nerves with vigor, the orgasm still forming even though your breasts were aching.    

                 “What do you want Y/N?”  Bucky’s question was sharp.  

                 “I want you to fuck me.”  Your chest throbbed, but you returned your hand, giving Bucky all the access to your body.

                 He looked disappointed in your answer and decreased the pressure from his thumb.  

                 “No!”  You groaned.

                 Your mind had drifted somewhere else, but now you were too aware of a desperation in your body.   You did not want to lose the orgasm.  

                 “What else Y/N?”  Bucky started to rub circles again as his finger still danced outside of your entrance.  

                 “I want you in control always.  I don’t want to win!”  Tears were forming again.  

                 Your thighs burned, your chest throbbed, and your pussy was dripping with need.  You were a mess.  A mess for this man who could take care of you, end your suffering.  

                 Again he sighed but continued to toy with your clit. Not hard enough to give you and release, but enough to make you realize how close to the edge you were.  

                 “One last try Y/N.  Get this right or I won’t touch you for the next week.”  Bucky glared at you.  

                 The idea of him not touching you was worse than any other punishment you could think of.  You whimpered at the thought.  Why did he keep using your name?  It made you feel dirty, undeserving of him.   You thought about the first time he called you that.  

                 “Peach.”  You nodded at him.  “I want to be your Peach.”  

                 Bucky let out a growl and stood, picking you up in the process.  

                 He dropped you on the edge of the bed and shoved his pants down, his hard cock sprung forward.  Bucky was on you in a second.  He slid into your quaking pussy with ease while his metal arm gathered your wrists above your head and lips found yours.  

                 His kiss was demanding and deep, filling you almost as much as his cock was.   He railed into you, but you were eager to come undone underneath him.  

                 The coil that was forming grew tighter and when it exploded you found yourself shaking with release.  The pleasure spread to every inch of your body and each thrust from Bucky drew more out of you, pushed more euphoria than you thought possible.  

 ~~

               Red.  Bucky saw red when she tried to swat his hand away.  Peach was his.  He didn’t want her thinking she could set boundaries.  

                 He was certain she enjoyed the lesson as she cuddled up to him in the bed. Both of them spent for at least the next few hours.  

                 Peach was always surprising him.  He thought threatening her with anal was going to be enough, but he read the look on her face.  If that was something he wanted she would be willing.  What a prize she was.  

                 When he threatened no contact, that look of horror told him everything he needed to know.  Peach was perfect.  He hated making empty warnings, there was no way he could go a day without touching her, let alone a week, but it was effective.  

                 “Bucky?” Peach asked him from her spot on his chest.

                 “Yeah?” He kissed the top of her head, half expecting her to be asleep.  

                 “Are you proud of me?”  She looked up at him with baited lashes.  

                 “Very.”  Bucky placed another kiss on her forehead.  

                 She smiled at him and dropped her head to his chest, snuggling in again.  

                 He was proud and impressed too.  She’d managed to hang in there for twelve whole minutes. Bucky didn’t think she had to know that though.  

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #reader insert

[magicalsalamander]

Threads of a Resurgent

⍖ Pairing▹ BTS Namjoon ⇆ Reader

⍖ Genre▹ Grim Reaper| Witch | Horror | Fluff| Angst|

⍖ Warning▹ rated Mature; Graphic depictions of death and gore, main character death, necromancy, traumatic events, blood, animal sacrifice (not detailed), witchcraft inaccuracies, explicit language and horror themes.

⍖ Summary▹ That dress. It was all because of that tainted dress. The dress you found at a second-hand store wasn’t just a pretty thing on the rack. When the grim reaper sits across from you telling you he’s come to collect, your life takes a turn. However, he made a mistake..a grave mistake. The threads of the Resurgent begin to unravel as you and the Grim Reaper are unleashed on an adventure tangled by threads. How will you mend the threads and save your soul in time before he collects you?

⍖ Word▹31.6K

⍖ A/N▹ Hope you’re still in the mood for something spooky. I apologize for the grammar errors in advance, I will correct them asap. I made a dictionary for you to keep open while you read so you can refer to things. I hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! Gif source unknown, but I don’t take credit for it [if you know please let me know].

⇴ Masterlist | Book of Spells [Dictionary] | Moodboard 

The hangers clacked as you shoved articles of clothing past like an abacus. The clothes were so tightly packed on the rack that hangers were sticking out in all directions. Your face was in a permanent scowl as you picked through the thorn bush. Shopping hasn’t ever been a pastime that you would put high on your list of fun activities. It had its scarce perks and all, but the process was always a long journey: picking clothes, trying on clothes in a scrutinizing mirror, then returning 99% of the items to an underpaid fitting room attendant. Rinse and repeat. However, here you were, on Friday evening, rummaging through a second-hand thrift store’s dress section to find something to wear for a date in about an hour.

You kept pushing past ugly polka dotted dresses, grandmother moo moos, overtly ruffle dresses then you stopped counting. You pushed another bead on the abacus when you stopped counting when something seemed to glow, call to you. You found the one. It must’ve been a rich-woman’s dress at some point. It was a simple black dress, but there was beauty in its minimalism. You assumed it made it here because of that stupid rule: wear it once then never again.

Who came up with that rule anyways?

You happily unhooked it from the rack, but it snagged when it was halfway out. It got caught in the thorns of about three other hanging pieces. You grunted and tried jangling the pieces loose, but the hangers were as messy as headphones in a pocket. After a few minutes of trying to figure it out you were nearly placing your foot on the rack to yank it out. This is ridiculous, but you weren’t going to settle on a polka dotted dress. One tug, two, then on your last heave you heard ripping and gasp from your lips with the liberated dress finally in your hands. You stumbled backwards and held the dress up in victory, but your smile turned into a heavy frown. The dress had a slit up the side from where a metal hook from another hanger ripped the delicate fabric. You just found something, and you ruined it in a matter of seconds.

After looking at it for a bit longer, you quite liked the new look. A risqué notch up the thigh gave the dress bonus points, perfect for date night. You checked the price tag with a satisfied smile, twenty bucks was doable on your budget. No further torture was needed, end of discussion, you found the dress!

You ran up to the counter, bought the dress, then ran back to the changing room. You changed out of your professional wear that you wore to the office earlier into the dress. Luckily you were already wearing accessories and shoes that transitioned easily. You checked yourself and swiped on a fresh coat of lipstick smacking your lips. You checked your watch, you had fifteen minutes to make it across town. You ran out the store and hailed a taxi. You took a deep breath as you sunk into the leather seat and crossed your fingers in your lap. You stared out the window watching the cityscape change, you hoped this went well.

You watched the flickering orange candle light in the reflection of the large window from your booth. Pattering rain hit the glass distorting the small light, but your reflection stared right back at you clearly. For the past hour some people ran past while others were covering themselves with umbrella to fend off the sudden rain. Luckily the rain started when you were inside the café. Couples giggled as they clutched onto eachother and some kids splashed in puddles only to be scolded by their parents seconds later.

The cooper bulb lights couldn’t completely wash out the overcast sky and heavy rain, nor the apparent absence besides you. Your hands felt cold despite trying to warm them up around the tea you ordered just to warm you up. Nothing changed that awkward feeling sitting in your stomach. You had been stood up.

You heavily sighed and looked to the empty seat across from you. It’s been over an hour and a half since you were supposed to meet. You looked around the nook café, although it was slotted between two popular brick and mortars, it was empty. You were the only patron in the establishment. The once burning espresso machines had cooled and the strong aroma of espresso had dulled to a dainty waft. The exhausted barista yawned, possibly bored out of their mind. They tossed their hand towel over their shoulder and disappeared into the back.

You ran a hand through your hair with a heavy sigh. It wasn’t about being stood up that upset you, it was the principal of the matter! You spent money—hard earned money—on a new dress, a taxi, a cup of tea and it wasn’t even worth it. You couldn’t even return the dress!

You reached down and traced a finger along the ripped seam up your thigh. Risqué notch my ass…it was just torn and got you an extra five dollars off this piece of junk. What if the rip was foretelling you that this wasn’t a good idea; perhaps an ominous foreshadowing you overlooked?

The depression of air wheezed out of the cushion as someone slide into the booth across from you. You looked up and met the dark eyes of a stranger. The tall stranger leaned back, resting one arm across the back of the chair. He was dressed in a sharp black suit that covered his lean body. His dirty-blonde hair was pushed back out of his face, but a few tendrils straggled on his forehead. The sinister look on his face, sharp scrutinizing eyes, and cocky demeanor washed over you like a cold shower. You didn’t dare to shiver, but your dilated pupils trembled.

“I’ve come to collect.”

You swallowed saliva you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You looked around the cafe and found the place completely empty. It was just you…and this stranger. Collect? Maybe this dude was mistaken or intoxicated. “What?” Stupefied you answered.

He scoffed running his thumb over his plump bottom lip, then clasped his hands, hunching over the table. He was only a single man, but his presence filled up the whole booth. He lifted his head, messy bangs fully covering his forehead. He looked through his lashes at you, eyes darkening by the second. For a second you were sure smoke filtered between his pearly white teeth as he smirked, “Oh, don’t play dumb now.”

You looked out the window and the foot traffic had stopped completely, but the rain still was heavily trickling, heavier than before. Uneasiness settled in your stomach, something was not right about this guy. “I’m sorry you must’ve gotten the wrong person,” you were running out a patience. You scooted out of the booth, done dealing with this creep. You didn’t have a coat or umbrella, so you were going to have to make a run for it.

He remained in his seat hands still folded on the table. He kept unwavering eye contact with you from his spot, “You can’t keep running from what you’ve done. I have to collect.”

You busted at the seams, “I don’t have any debt! I just paid off my credit cards and stud—.” It hit you, “Sir, are you—are you…,” you leaned in a bit hushing your raised tone, “a part of the mafia or something?”

He chuckled throwing his head back in fake laughter, “Does changing now make you lose your memory?”

You had enough from this crazy, admittedly handsome—but insane guy! You snatched your purse turning around to leave. What a terrible night this has been. You’re going to throw this dress away, fifteen dollars or not, then yourself onto your bed when you get home.

You took about two steps and apparated before you in a blink of an eye. You gasped nearly running face first into him, “Whoa—What? How did—?”

His pupils engulfed his eyes in a deep black engulfing the sclera of his eyes. You could feel his hot breath on your cheeks as he growled out, “Pay-the-price!” He grabbed onto your elbow and dragged you towards the entrance of the café.

“Let go of me! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” His grip was nearly bone crushing. Through the pain you screamed, “LET GO!” You were pulled along regardless of your protest. You looked for staff, anyone, to help but no one was there to save you. Your heart was racing out of your chest, “Let me GO!”

He ripped open the entrance door, a cold front rushed over you both, but his large figure took the blunt of it. He pulled you along through the threshold, “Stop!” You expected to be pelted by rain, but instead the world warped around you, neon commercial lights whirlpool and turned into darkness that took a new life as a hazy blue-grey dense fog. He kept pulling you along with him unaffected by the transition. Nausea churned your stomach in an unfriendly manner. Your brain felt like static causing you to stumble over your own feet when your feet settled on uneven, gravelly terrain. His insistent pulling progressed you both onwards.

Where were you?

You couldn’t see anything clearly besides him in this nightmare-scape; until, in the dense fog, you began to pass trees that were characterized by their dark trunks and chaotic roots that were like spider legs sticking out the ground. This place left so much up to the imagination. Every muscle in your body was aching to run away, to fight, bite his hand even, but that fog—it felt alive. Whatever was out there in it could make the bravest being claustrophobic.

This must be the gateway to hell.

Coming from your right then left you heard the crunching of dead leaves. From the dark haze, the imagination begins to fill with horrors. Silhouetted human figures passed in different direction between the tress, but they didn’t turn towards us they kept their wandering demeaner. The fog was alive!

“Wh-Where are you taking me?” You whisper yelled it to him, afraid to attract the attention of those wandering figures in this passing hell. The ma—demon holding you hostage kept his pace graciously gliding in the fog. The silence between you was scarier.

A dark hill appeared and in short realization you realized it was a cave. He kept dragging you towards it with a sinister smile blooming on his face. Breaking through the susurration, the sound of heavy limbs being dragged was eerily followed by the crunching of bones and the mushing sound of moist flesh. The morbid sounds echoed through the forest as if it was hollow as it emanated through the cave.

Your jaw dropped in a silent scream, the nausea turned into cramps, replacing itself with a guttural twisting horror. Your heart was beating so fast that everything seemed to move in slow motion. The closer we got it reeked of death and sorrow—sulfur, methane, and burned fat. You tried sticking your heels into the ground, but he dragged you along easily. “Please, I don’t know anything, just let me go!”

The mouth of the cave greeted us with an infinite darkness and your shadows dissolved into it. Your captor chanted rapidly like a hissing snake in a voice so low and deep. A raging blue fire came to light as we suddenly stopped. You jelly legs nearly tripped over something as you came to a halt, you looked down realizing it was shards of bones. You let out a scream and pulled back, screamed louder when the formidable cave dweller came to life.

The beast feeling the heat roared in distress and moved away from the fire towards you. The colossal chains attached at its ankles rattled as it slugged forward with growls of its own. The two-ton behemoth legs and arms were thin compared to his protruding gut resembling someone with Cushing disease; except that gut was filled with digesting bodies while the souls were sent to pits. His protruding, bare torso was covered in old and fresh guts and other bodily fluids. It’s disgusting greyish, purple body was that of a human, but the head was that of a boar with horns sticking out its oversized jaw. It had a partially devoured femur in its thick hand that swung listlessly as he moved.

The beast eyes were pupilless, cloudy grey, and it searched out its victims with its other heightened senses. Your involuntary noises lead the beast to whip its head right towards you. All the suppression up until this point was peaking up your throat, you were going to throw up from fear.

Your captor spoke to the beast, “Edax Animae! I return the obliquatur pythonissam who cheated Statera and you!”

You were violently trembling, what had you done wrong? You’ve never crossed anyone, nor had you done something so terrible to deserve this! Did you do something absolutely stupid in college that’s haunting you now? Maybe when you stole Stacey’s crayons in second grade, but you swear you put it back right after using it. You swear you’ve lived fairly straight edge your whole life.

You were tugging and scratching and digging your nails into his hand with your other, “Let me go! I didn’t do anything. I swear!” Your nails were causing his hands to redden with thick scratch marks, yet he didn’t make a face or loosen his grip on you. “PLEASE!”

The beast roared and stepped towards you again, but his chains yanked him back. Fear engulfed your conscience, you screamed in your throat, pulling back, yanking hard but you could only get back as far as your arm���s length. The beast dropped the femur with a gross smack of flesh. You could feel tears dripping down your face without your conscious choice. You were going to die. You were going to get eaten alive.

“Please, please, please!” Your captor pushed you forward mercilessly, you landed at the feet of the monster. You couldn’t look up, tears streamed down your face in a steady stream. The beast wobbled forward like a toddler, blubbering blood out of its mouth. It dripped down the side of its lips and onto its torso. You cowered backwards, legs dragging on the rocky dirt, his looming colossal shadow began to engulf you. It heavily panted with each step. Hovering over you, the beast suddenly stopped and huffed a deep growl.

Your captor shouted at the monster, “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” The monster huffed again turning its stout away from you, “What-do-you-mean!”

He violently stomped over to you, bones cracking under his dress shoes, eyes completely black. He grabbed onto the hemline of your dress.

You try shoving his hands away, “What are you doing!”

“Stay still,” it was a command. He ripped a piece of your dress off where the thigh had already been cut, leaving you with an inverse scallop cut. You yelped and tried pulling the torn edge down, “Don’t move.” Your hands stilled.

He presented it to the beast and it craned its stout a few times seeking out his hand then heavily sniffed it. The beast roared again then panted like a dog, giddy about the fabric. Your captor tossed the fabric at the bottom of the monster’s feet. The monster bent down onto its knees searching for it with its snout and shoveled it in its snout and swallowed it. The beast grunted after making an audible gulp swallowing the fabric. They exchanged growls and grunts, your captor some Latin that you couldn’t understand. “You gotta be fucking with me! Just when…this-this isn’t?” He pulled at his hair in frustration, his anger shook the walls of the cave, loose rocks tumbled from their spot.

You backed away avoiding falling rocks from the ceiling. You backed up without looking and hit the cave wall with a thud. At the noise the beast made direct eye contact with you, its cloudy grey eyes focused in your direction. You froze and held your breath, it’s gaze held a hypnotic grip on your throat. Drool dripped from the side of its jaw and boiled as it hit the rustic mud digesting shards of bone on the spot.

You captor held his hand out, hissing, “Flax!” In his hand from a cloud of black smoke appeared a scythe. Your captor strode his way over to you, easily flipped the scythe around and held the long blade to your throat. You winced closing your eyes and when you opened them you could see your reflection in the blade as you took a quick glance down at it.

“Aren’t you a witch! She put you up to this didn’t she! Where is she?”

You shivered, “Witch? No! Look I don’t know what you’re pulling here—!”

The monster grunted again, and your captor closed his eyes in frustration. “That Witch!” Your captor exploded, black smoke rolled out of his mouth. He pulled his scythe away from your neck.

You shuttered and eyes bulge at the supernatural occurrence. Who...who was this guy! What was all this! You thought that this stuff was only fictional, yet a beast and whatever this guy was in front of you really existed!

The monster begins heaving like a dog and it throws up the piece of fabric it just digested, along with some other things you couldn’t make out.

You beg, “Just take me back, I’ll forget all this, I won’t say anything, just take me back home.”

He growled toxic smoke pouring from his mouth, “I can’t take you back!”

You yelled back, fear making you lose your temper, “Why? Why can’t you? Just take me back! I said I’ll forget—.” You flinched as the monster began moving towards the back of the cave again.

“You can’t forget this!” He yelled, veins in his neck popping. He recentering himself quickly, pointed to your body with his scythe, “You wore that dress…you’re tainted.”

Dress? What does this dress have to do with any of this? Tainted? “I don’t care about the dress. Just take me back!”

He sighed clanking the stem of his scythe once on the floor and it disappeared into thin air. He walked out of the cave and ignorantly you followed him like lightening was at your feet into the dense fog again. You kept close to him. You could run, but where would you go? Become one of the wondering souls? You had to persuade him to take you back home. More importantly, you needed answers.

He spoke as he walked, “That dress belonged to a resurgent. It was worn by that-that witch when they died then resurrected. A piece of their soul is attached to that dress.”

You almost felt relieved for a moment, your hands were wiped clean, this was all a mistake and you could go home. You just needed to get rid of the dress, done deal.

He spat the last words. “The fact that you wore it…that piece of her—necromancy it’s sticky—it’s tainted you. That’s why you were mistaken for her.”

He slowed his pace, “Your soul is hers and until her debt is paid, you’re tainted.”

The color dropped out of your face.

He stopped in a clearing and turned around facing you with a sad expression. “And if her soul isn’t collected in time…,” he looked you directly in the eye, “yours will be.”

Your knees gave way and you collapsed like a ragdoll. Fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. He kneeled and lifted your chin and wiped away your tears. You flinched when he touched you expecting to be hit or worse. He pulled his hands back, frown deepening, “I won’t hurt you. I know it’s hard to believe, but I won’t hurt you.” His black eyes receded into something more humanistic again. His demeanor took a one hundred and eighty, but his face was still stern. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I really am.” This was low, he’s never known it was possible to split the soul. But here you were, proving everything he thought wrong.

The tears continued to stream down your face, he tried wiping each of them away. He genuinely felt terrible, he had brought an innocent mortal into Limbo and showed them something you should have never seen. Never. However, you weren’t just an innocent mortal anymore, “But…until I can find her and bring her soul to Satera…we have to remain together.”

You screeched out, “Together!”

“I will find the resurgent.” He stood up taking your hand and gently helping you up, going as far as to dusting you off. He shrugged off his blazer and wrapped it around your shoulders. “But in the meantime, you and I are connected as well.”

You tried shrugging his coat off before it touched your shoulders, “Will this taint my soul too?” You were suspicious of everything.

He laughed, the straight-faced man laughed, dimples even appeared on his cheeks. He was quite good looking when he wasn’t threatening your life. He shrugged and placed it around your shoulders again, “Just be grateful Keres didn’t come to find you.”

You asked, “Who?”

His face went dumbstruck, “Oh.” He cleared his throat, “My sister…she would not be as kind if she were assigned you.”

“Assigned?”

He chuckled, “You have so many questions.”

You sputtered out in disbelief, “Who are you?”

“The mortals call me Thanatos, at least they used to about two thousand years ago, or the Grim Reaper more recently.”

Your jaw dropped, and spat out, “Death, YOUR death!”

He laughed again, “The one and the only.”

He held out his hand, “I can satisfy one of your requests, I’ll take you home.” You were too stunned to say anything and before you knew it you were traveling again.

You stumbled as you emerged, but he caught your arm, gently this time. He straightening you out, “You alright?”

You panted, “How-how do you do that?”

He smirked, “Comes with the job.”

He took you to your front door, for a short moment you wondered how he knew where you lived but you felt he had his ways there too. He stopped you from going inside, “I’m going to find out more…information. If you need me, call me.”

You looked at him inquisitively, “How am I supposed to call you?”

“Just say my name.”

“Reaper?”

He shook his head and scuffed his shoe, surprisingly shy, “Namjoon, my real name is Namjoon.”

You tested the name on your tongue, “Namjoon.”

He nodded, “Keep the blazer, and call me when you need me.”

You took the hint, “My name’s Y/n.”

He turned around once more, “Oh, Y/n, don’t tell anyone about this.” You wanted to scoff, but you swallowed it, nodded in understanding instead. Who would believe you if you told them anyways?

“Good night, Y/n,” he vanished in the next second in a cloud of black smoke.

What had you gotten yourself into?

Magic, the supernatural, beast, monster, and God knows whatever else you hadn’t seen with your eyes yet exist. Magic exists.

Before you knew it, it was Friday again. The whole week after you felt like a zombie, like your own body didn’t belong to you. You were still questioning if it all was just a bad dream, a twisted nightmare. The bruises from his hard grip were there…his blazer was still with me and that dress…I still had that dress. You had hooked up the dress on a hanger and left it on a hook behind your door. You didn’t know what to do with it. You didn’t know if you threw it away or that would only make things worse. The best solution you could come up with was “out of sight, out of mind”.

You came home around nine, Fridays were always hell at the office. Your coworkers were making you pay since you took last Friday off early, it was your turn to shoulder a majority of the work. Your manager would pile on work that he’d been slacking on during the week onto the team. Instead of getting off at five like everyone else, you’d usually get off the earliest at eight at minimum.

You treated yourself with a long shower to wash away the stress. You dried yourself off and replaced the towel back on the rack and slipped on fresh underwear you had set out for yourself. You lived alone, so you often went around your apartment practically nude. You stepped up to the white counter humming a tune; showers always eased your mind. The medicine cabinet open with a magnetic click, mechanically following your night routine taking out your toner, moisturizer, and toothpaste from the neat shelf.

When you closed the cabinet, getting a good look of yourself in the mirror, you noticed thick, black flakes of mascara was still caked under your eye. You heavily sighed and dug into a drawer and pulled out a pack of cotton pads, tossing them on the counter with a crunch of the plastic. You reached over scavenging between your scented lotions and perfumes for your makeup remover. You really needed to get rid of some of those lotions and perfumes. You popped open the bottle and generously dowsed a cotton pad. You looked back up and begin wiping away at the black clots under your eye. In a way this was therapeutic as well, removing physical sludge was oddly satisfying.

You tossed the dirty cotton pad in the trash and turned back to the mirror checking your work. In the corner of your eyes you caught something moving behind you. You whipped around, but nothing was there. You stared for a few more moments waiting for the trickery to happen again, but nothing, there was nothing there. Despite just taking a steaming hot shower, an icy draft came over the room. Goosebumps welted all over your body. You rubbed over your arms and shrugged it off. A draft from under the door must’ve swept in and you must’ve had a flake of mascara in your eye. You turned back to the mirror, but the hair on the back of your neck was still at attention. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing. You’re spooking yourself you idiot.”

You kept looked over your shoulder a few times despite your assuring monologue as you finished up your routine. You massaged in the excess moisturizer into your neck and the wiped rest on your towel. You opened the medicine cabinet and put the products back faster than you normally would. That eerie feeling you couldn’t seem to escape was traveling down your spine, but you choose to ignore it.

It was just your imagination.

You picked up your toothbrush and applied a dollop of paste then ran it under water. You popped it in your mouth then closed the cabinet. You scrubbed your teeth and pulled your eyes back up to meet your reflection. The lights flickered encroaching you in darkness for a split second. When the lights turned back on, your reflection was accompanied.

A wasting figure began to rise in the intervals as the lights flickered. You screamed at the top of your lungs, the toothbrush dropped from your mouth clanking in the ceramic sink. You watched as the being built itself from cavities to limbs that looked Frankenstein when it was fully equipped. Your clean scent was being stained by the heavy earthen smell of soil accompanied by a smell of death. The room filled with complete darkness for a heartbeat, then a feminine figure replaced the Frankenstein when the light came on. The dark figure behind you shushed you and snaked a hand around your neck holding you in place; although, you were frozen on the spot from fear and couldn’t move regardless. As she leaned in to you her cold chest pressed into your back, she hooked her pointy chin on your shoulder you got a good look at the figure’s face. She was a gorgeous woman with sharp features, deep eyes and long, silky black hair.

She brushed your wet hair behind your ear and whispered into your ear, “So we meet.” She chuckled in satisfaction knowing she had terrified you, “We meet my pretty.” Her eyes met your bulging eyes in the mirror. There was a hollowness within them that couldn’t be conjured even in someone’s worst nightmare. An image you wouldn’t ever be able to erase no matter how hard you tried.

“It was hard finding you, you hide yourself pretty well.” You had no idea you were hiding, much less hiding from her. It clicked, this was the woman the Reaper was speaking of. This was the Witch!

“Someone finally bought my dress, I’ve been waiting for someone to come save me.” She whispered in your ear, “What a fine sacrifice you’ll be. You have such a pure soul too, Satera will surely be pleased when you take my place.”

You shakily got out with a heavy bob of your throat, “Who-who are you?”

She chuckles, “You’ll find out soon.” She held onto you tighter and dragged her sharp nails across your neck imitating a knife. “When the day comes, I will come for you and my name will be your last words.”

In the next second, she vanished just as quickly as she appeared, her sinister laughter echoed off the bathroom tiles.

You found your breath again and clutched at the counter top trying to regain balance. Where she had ran her finger burned, your hand covered the mark neck on instinct. You focused on breathing, but her words echoed in your head.

This was real. The resurgent was real, the dress was hers, and she knows where you live. The resurgent found you! You were tainted. Tangled in a promise, you were going to become that image that brought you feared.

You ripped off your underwear and scrubbed your whole body with scalding hot water. It felt like her smell was heavy gunk on you, especially where she had touched you. You scrubbed until your skin was raw and the steam began to reek of your body wash. You broke down crying. It wasn’t a dream, this was real, she was real.

You’re tainted.

It was at least a half hour before you came out of the shower. You wrapped a different towel around yourself and stuck to the wall as you walked down the hall to your bedroom. You felt so exhausted. You slip on a new pair of underwear and unusually pajamas and what you think is your robe, you aren’t really paying attention. You needed to feel covered.

You walked out of your bedroom towards the living room when a voice called to you. “Are you alright? Why’d you call me?”

You screamed using your already raw throat past its limit and held onto your robe with a deathly grip. You turned towards Namjoon, recognizing the voice, “What is wrong with you!”

He took in your red figure and bloodshot eyes, but what was most surprising was you were wearing his blazer, “What’s wrong Y/n?”

You sunk against the wall, the way he looked at you made you cave in, “She-She was in the bathroom with me. ShecameupbehindmewhenIclosed the-the—,” deep inhale, ”mirrorandheldup her-her knifes to my neck!”

Namjoon bolted towards you picking you up before you sunk to the floor. He held your hands, stopping your flailing hands to get a look at your neck. Thick lines were inflamed across your neck. He could smell it too, a faint smell of death lingering on your skin. He weighted frown settled on his lips, this wasn’t supposed to happen. She had found you despite the protection you had because of his blazer. He had even placed one on the apartment when he left that night. He wasn’t expecting her ever to find you, much less taunt you. He thought he’d have more time, a year, before she went out looking for you.

Blubbering your words, “She said, ugggnnnhhh.”

“Shhh, Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

He had made an indirect promise to keep you safe, to figure this out, yet he wasn’t keeping it. You nearly died and right under his nose. Guilt bubbled in his stomach, how much more could he mess up?

“Pack some stuff and let’s go.”

You looked up at him in surprise, “Oh no, I’m not falling for that again.”

He frowned, “She’s only going to come back.”

“Where am I going to go? I have nowhere to go.” You raised your hand to your mouth nibbling on your thumb. Wouldn’t she follow you anywhere? Was anywhere safe?

He stepped back, “With me, you can stay with me. I have a house just outside the city. Until I can get this place cleansed you can’t come back here.”

“With you!” You scoffed, suddenly remembering your connection and pushing away from him. You still haven’t forgiven him, or completely trusted him. “I’m not going anywhere with you, the last time I did I nearly died! How do I know you’re not going to just do the same?”

He sighed, “The blazer, you have my blazer.”

“What about it.”

“Just like she has a piece of you,” he pulled at the lapel for emphasis, ”with that, you have a piece of me.”

You finally looked at what you were wearing, and you realized you had his blazer on. A hot flush covered your cheeks, and it deepened as you realized the intensity of what it really meant.

“Your soul is in this blazer?”

“The uniform is like a vessel, just like that dress. It holds a small bit of me, but it doesn’t harm you or transfer, instead…it protects you.”

You lessened your grip around the lapels, feeling a bit guilty for treating it so carelessly. For doubting his sincerity, it was just hard to trust anyone at this point. You still didn’t know if you could trust him fully yet though, he needed to earn that from you.

You ran a hand through your still wet hair, “Won’t she just follow me to your place.”

He smiled, “I’ll be there to protect you then if she does.”

You couldn’t find it in you to argue with him. Fiercely flicking your wrist, you pointed to your eyes then at him jabbing it a few times in his direction for emphasis, “ I’m trusting you, so…okay, give me a minute.”

“Leave the dress.” You didn’t bother answer him, you figured that much, and continued walking away to your room.

He watched as you walked away wrapped in his blazer with a quirk in his brows. You didn’t take it off after he pointed it out instead he watched you wrap it around you tighter.

What had he gotten himself into?

You weren’t capable of handling the responsibility of driving given your shaken state. He drove the both of you in your car over to his home with a stuffed duffle bag in the trunk. He drove twenty minutes away from your apartment to a suburban neighborhood where the streets were quiet and the homes were far apart from one another and well out of your budget. You had no idea this part of your city existed, maybe because you hadn’t lived here your whole life.

He pulled up to a stone pillared gate that had an elegant white fence concealing the estate from the outside world. On each side were two grand stone dogs that had their jaws open mid bark. He didn’t need to press a remote as they opened automatically for him. He drove in slowly away from the tarmac road onto a sun stone paved driveway. Along the driveway on both sides were various floral plants, shrubbery and trees. You could only assume much because it was so late and very dark, but the yard seemed to go on about a mile out. When he parked the car in front of the garage you were gawking at the huge, two story white transitional home. Lights were on inside of the home outpouring warm orange light that was so welcoming. You weren’t expecting this in the least, the white especially.

The first intelligent words out of your mouth were, “Wow, this home is beautiful.”

He smiled, “Thanks, just got it today.”

You looked at him, jaw hanging open. Today? Did he say today?

He shrugged, “Perks of being a Reaper.”

He got out of the car and opened the trunk. You came to your senses and flung the car door open and took your bag before he could. You didn’t want to impose any further on him. He chuckled under his breath and politely pointed towards the house for you to follow him. You stepped up a short staircase to a mid-size dark wood front door and engraved in the wood was an inverted torch. Ivy clung to border of the door and the white walls of the home and wrapped itself around the hanging lanterns. There was something mysterious about this place, it felt so magical.

Your eyes bulged as he opened the front door revealing the inside of his home. You weren’t in Kansas anymore that’s for sure, maybe not even Earth. He walked past you with natural ease, his dress shoes clicking on the polished marble flooring. When you were still standing outside, he looked back, “Take off your shoes and come in. My place is your place.”

You forced off your shoes hopping a bit, your duffle bag making you slightly lop sided, “What do you mean just go it today?”

He shrugged, “I don’t live ‘here’ per say…or anywhere really, so I got this place.”

You were about to question for more answers, but he left you standing there alone in the entry way. He walked through the house confidently to the kitchen. He opened the double doors of the fridge and looked over his shoulder, “Hungry?”

You deadpanned, “You know how to cook?”

He bit his lip, “No, but I can try. It seems easy.”

You were dumbfounded. This home was completely furnished, fully stocked and it looked like he had lived here for a while. It had that lived in cozy feel with the simple architecture but defining décor in a monochrome palette.

He dropped an assortment of vegetables on the table and slung a knife out the knife rack and begun cutting a carrot. When he depressed the knife half of the carrot flew right in front of you and across the room. You broke out of your stupor and ran over to him taking the knife from his hand, “No, no, no, you may be the Grim Reaper but stay away from cooking. I’ll cook, you do Reaper stuff…or something.”

He pouted then chuckled, “Are you sure? I can help at least.”

You picked a few vegetables out of the bunch, “Put the rest away and then wash these ones.” He followed orders easily and you were able to pick some more things out of the cabinets, and a dash of seasoning here and there. He found an apron for you to wear, “Don’t get the blazer dirty.”

You took off the blazer and placed it carefully over the back of a chair. You wrapped it around you, you didn’t even realize you left your house still wearing pajamas and his blazer. Your cheeks heated up, but you kept your eyes on the frying pan.

You plated two plates of stir fry in half an hour flat. You wiped the sweat off your brow, “Let’s eat.”

Namjoon sat down at the table eying the food like you had the house, “Wow.”

You laughed as you slid into the dinning chair, “It’s just stir-fry.”

He dug in immediately and practically moaned at the taste, “I haven’t had a home cooked meal…ever.”

You nearly dropped your fork, “Ever?”

He nodded but continued to shovel food in his mouth. You smiled and ate your food peacefully across from him. You had barely made it through half your plate when he was serving himself seconds. He was like a vacuum. It was such a simple dish, yet he was treating it like fine dining. You set your fork down after taking your last bite and he shyly looked up at you. He swallowed a lump of food then shoved around a vegetable with his fork suddenly modest, “Thank you for the meal.”

You giggled and took a napkin and gestured it towards the flakes of food around his mouth.  He shyly took it and wiped his mouth. “You’re welcome.”

At this point you had completely forgotten about why you were at his house. However, you didn’t want to remain naïve to that comfort. You cleared your throat, “Who is she?”

He went silent chewing on a vegetable then swallowed it with a gulp of water. “Celina is a powerful resurgent. She’s was even one of the members of the Hecate Council. A council of only the most powerful witches. Her and her sister were one of the greatest witches to ever be a part of the council. However, that wasn’t enough for Celina. Secretly, against Hecate law, she started performing the Dark Arts.

They’re dark arts for a reason, it goes against the natural balance by betraying Hecate law. She learned cursed spells…and necromancy. The biggest sin by betraying Satera to interfere with life and death, but I’m responsible for maintaining the balance by collecting.

Celina was exiled when the council found out, her sister was exiled along with her from the council. Her whole family of prestigious witches was shamed for Celina’s betrayal to the Witch’s Oath.

Celina felt she had more potential than the council limited her to, so she went rogue and fully committed to the Dark Arts. She learned how to use her magic to achieve ‘pseudoimmortality’.

I’ve been chasing her for about a century, but she keeps changing form and finding new…host. But, resurging, it’s something that eventually eats you alive, literally. “

He took a big gulp of water, “She’s learned how to use objects to find her victims.”

He set down his fork and looked you in the eyes conveying a million things to you, but verbal unleashes the truth, “And you…you…happen to have one of them...her next host.”

His words hung heavy on your chest. Celina wasn’t an ordinary witch, she was your puppeteer.

You picked up your dishes and headed towards the sink wanting to distract yourself. Namjoon followed you, “Y/n, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said all that. She won’t bother you again.”

You turned on the faucet then turned towards him, “I know Namjoon. I know.” You took a sponge and rinsed off the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher.

Namjoon stepped in taking the dishes from you, “Guest shouldn’t clean.”

You nudged back in you weren’t raised to stand by, “Who knew the Reaper was so traditional.” He laughed nudging you with his elbow playfully.

He had showed you to a room soon after you both washed the dishes and cleaned up. You followed him up the stairs insisting you could carry your bag just fine. It felt odd being doted on by the Reaper. The second floor was just as impressive as the first. He walked down a warmly lit hall, stuffed bookshelves were about, plants with exotic flowers and figurines. You noticed the reoccurring crest of an inverted torch about the house.

He opened a door theatrically, “Your room.” He allowed you to walk in first. You looked around your room in awe, the room resembled a high-class hotel room. Luscious, thick carpet soothed your feet and you were instantly sure this was heaven. Your eyes focused on the queen-sized bed, the other furniture blurred as your eyes just focused on that single piece. You walked forward and tested it out by face planting into the comforter. Around you the fluffy comforter huffed as the air trapped within the fabric released sinking you into the softness.

Namjoon laughed from the doorway then trailed in and set your bag down by the edge of the bed, “Do you need anything?” You rubbed your heads into the comforter mumbling out no. He looked over his shoulders and smiled, you had already knocked out in a matter of seconds.

As soon as the door shut softly, the smile on his face dropped. His eyes swirled, and eyes turned black. He turned down the hall holding out his hand and in it apparated his scythe. His body slowly morphed as he dissolved into rolling, fine black dust as he dissipated. There were serious matters to deal with.

When you came down the stairs in the morning you found a note on the kitchen counter along with a key for the house for you to take. You went to work like normal, you felt protected. This route actually made it easier to get to and from work. When you came home you made dinner for yourself and Namjoon. He popped in unexpectedly appearing in the kitchen like a ghost, “I’m home.” You shivered tossing the potato you were peeling in your hand as your body trembled in fright. He caught it mid-air, “Whoa!”

You looked at him wide eyed, “Jesus! Don’t do that!” He set the potato down giving you that look of a scolded puppy, “Sorry, it’s just a habit.”

You sighed, at tapped his head like you would a puppy to comfort it. This was something you were going to have to get used to. “It’s okay.”

Over dinner Namjoon told you that it would take two weeks for your apartment to be cleaned. Yesterday you would’ve groaned, but you were quite content here for the meantime. Days passed and you started a routine in your new environment. You started warming up to Namjoon. You’ve come to be comfortable with his supernatural ways. You found out despite his chic exterior, he’s quite the goof ball. You’ve banned him from his own kitchen when he set a pan on fire. On quieter nights you asked him to explain things about the supernatural world and magic. He only confirmed some things, like werewolves were actually a thing, but he refused to go deeper than that. In his words, “There were just things you shouldn’t know.”

You came home through the front door shucking off your shoes. “Namjoon, I’m home!” As soon as your feet touch the cold tile you sigh in relief. Heels, why do they make you wear heels in an office? You make it a few steps into the house and Namjoon appears out of nowhere. You gasp holding a hand over your chest, “Jesus Christ! We’ve discussed this Namjoon, appear like a normal person.”

He chuckled, “Sorry, habitual.” He watched as you stung clung to the nearest item, “Would it make it up to you if I took you out to dinner?”

You raised a brow to him, “Your treat?”

“My treat.”

You smirked, “I guess I can forgive you then, let me get changed.”

He shook his head, “No need. You look nice.” He placed your shoes back in front of you silently bidding you to slip them back on. You wiggled your feet back into your shoes, feet protesting, but you weren’t going to pass up dinner.

He took your hand in his, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You began walking towards the front door again, but Namjoon yanked you back. You stumbled and landed in his chest with a huff and an apology. He wrapped his arms tight around you, and in the next second you were being consumed in smoke, “Namjoon!”

“Calm down, it’s going to be okay.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the darkness rippled around you. You felt the world shifting around you and sudden a biting cold hitting your skin. You fought off the nausea as you staggered on the spot, but Namjoon held you up. You looked around noticing you were in an alleyway. “Namjoon, where are we?”

He took your hand, gently tugging you away, “You’ll see.”

You pulled your coat tighter around you with your free hand shivering a bit. You jogged a bit to walk next to him. Your tongue felt serpentious, “Can I pay you to take me to work in the morning? I’d really like an extra half hour of sleep if you could take me instead.”

A familiar smirk curling his lips, “My powers aren’t your taxi.”

You scoffed mumbling under your breath, “What is this then?” He kept moving forward unhearing of your sarcasm. Your hands were still entangled but you didn’t mind; his hands were very warm like a thermos. Winter was just around the corner, a few weeks before all the rustic leaves would take their final bow.  

The alleyway was an inception as it opened up to one of the busiest streets downtown. You turned onto a smooth sidewalk falling naturally into the flow of pedestrian traffic. Namjoon altered his steps to match your footsteps. Whenever you’re alone going to work you feel the need to constantly look over your shoulder but standing next to Namjoon you don’t feel the need to do so. The walking talisman pulled you closer to the left alternating between people moving maximum speed.  

You joked, “For a second I thought you were going to take me to Limbo again.”

He snorted, “No, no, I don’t plan to ever take you there again, unless—?” He raised a brow suggesting if you did want to, he could.

You punched his arm lightly. He banked further left in the crowd, “Come on.” He pushed a shop’s door open, the bell above dinging announcing your arrivals. The whistling of the espresso machine responded back to your entrance. You look over Namjoon’s shoulder and recognized the establishment. This was the same café where it all started. The familiar cooper lights, the barista with tired eyes, and it lacks the same pollution as the streets you just came from. Namjoon keeps walking and took you over to an empty booth, the same booth you both had met.

Confusion made you furrow your brows. “Why’d you pick this place?”

He waved over the waiter, “I thought this place needed a redemption. You know, give it a chance to be the place it is instead of a place where you got dumped.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, “Who said I got dumped!”

He shrugged, a fire flickering in his eyes, “A pretty lady sitting all alone with an unfinished cup of tea on a Friday night. I just took a wild guess.”

You felt your heart stuttering in your chest, did he call you pretty? You played it off coolly, “He probably was a loser anyways.”

The waiter comes over and leaves menus and glasses of water on the table. As you browse through the menu, “The scariest part about that night was the man who slid into my booth.”

He rolled his eyes, “How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

You shrugged. He set down his menu, “Next time wear pants to a date instead of a dress.” Your shoulders shook as you laughed, if only you wore pants that day. You missed it but a glimmer sparked in his eyes, he knew by the redness in your cheeks you were enjoying the teasing.

The waiter came back around and you both order dinner settling on getting the same thing. Not long after does the waiter come with your food. You poke around at your food, “Namjoon, how did you become…the Reaper.”

He looked at you silently while chewing his food, you knew that look. You could practically mock the words he spoke through his eyes: there’s just somethings you shouldn’t know. You ignore the look, “Oh come on Namjoon. Alright, fine, I’ll tell you something about myself then so were even.”

“I moved out here five years ago all by myself, fresh out of college. I wanted to move to the big city thinking that I could do it on my own. I moved in with a roommate after I couldn’t find a decent priced placed for cheap. It was nice because the person I lived with got me a job at the current place I work. She was a cool, but then it turned out she was sleeping with the boss. It got messy and she ended up leaving the company after his wife found out. She left the company and the apartment, so I had to leave. I luckily found the place I’m at now. It was either that or move back home and that was the last thing I could ever want.”

You looked up and made eye contact with the person in same position as Namjoon in the booth behind you. His eyes were wide as he averted his eyes the same time you did. You quickly sipped your hot drink; the steam could easily be blamed for your hot cheeks. You realized a bit too late you shared a bit too much.

He laughed into his coffee cup, not at you but your reaction. Hot liquid splashed onto his upper lips. He hisses and quickly wiped it away while still chuckling to himself.

“Fair enough.” He takes another sip of his coffee despite the sting.

“My great grandfather was the youngest of his siblings and the last to visit the Moirai. The Moirai were three sisters who bestowed fate. My great grandfather was a clumsy man, but an adventurer none the less. He always carried a sickle with him, a gift from his own father, Cronus.

On the day of his bestowment when he turned twenty-five, he was late to his own destiny. He got caught up in one of his adventures. He ran up the stairs of Fate and begged for forgiveness asking for another chance. Morta, one of the three sisters and goddess of death, stood up from her throne upset. She held up his thread with her scissors ready to cut the thread. He protested lunging up to stop Morta from severing his thread. In the process he tripped over his own thread, and when he landed his sickle pierced his heart. His blood tainted the thread and he died on the thread, but his fate didn’t end there. He awoke moments later, eyes completely black, because his blood tainted the thread that Morta was handling he changed his fate. His fate became to be the Reaper.

As a child I never wanted to be the Reaper. I wanted to go into education, teaching music, but that was never my destiny. The Grim Reaper before me was father, but his hour glass broke and fell before his time was up. I was only a boy, asleep in my bed when I was woken up by my Mother and I was told my father had passed. I had to take over immediately, before I turned twenty-five. There wasn’t time to mourn. The pits of hell needed to be tamed, the underworld commanded and to keep the river of Styx’s steady.”

“Why couldn’t your mother inherit the position? Why did you, so young, have to take it on?” You felt a bit of anger boiling, why would an adult put that much pressure on a child?

He smiled endeared by your reaction, “The responsibility is passed down through son. Although, women can be reapers, but they’re known as the Duximina’s. I may be the Grim Reaper, but I only have control of what happens over humans or humans turned supernatural like demons. The Duximina are reapers that can reap the supernatural. I obey Satera, but Duximina’s are of their own accord.”

The rim of your cup had coffee stains that reminded you of pulled waves leaving their foam residue. You ran your finger over the stains, the heat from your fingers softening it up. Namjoon was a young man who lived with the mind of an old man who had known suffering all too well. Although, you didn’t know his age, “How old are you Namjoon?”

He scratched at the underside of his chin jutting his chin in thought, “I stopped aging at twenty-five, because of the ‘curse’, but I will continue to live on until my time is up. I stop keeping track after three hundred, so I’d say—.”

You coughed choking on air, “Thr-three hundred?”

He looked around a few eyes were on you. He gestured with his hand towards them that you were alright, then he reached over patting your back. He passed you a napkin, “Is my age that surprising?”

You smothered the fire burning in your throat, voice hoarse, significantly quieter, “Did you say three hundred?”

He nodded, “I’d ask out of curiosity what’s yours, but I know its rude to ask a woman her age. I don’t want a felines death on my hands.”

“If we count my age in cat years, the cat would surely be dead.”

He bit his lip suffocating a laugh, “Glad I didn’t ask then.”

When you took a deep breath you got out, “Thank you Namjoon, thank you for telling me.”

His eyes softened up and just nodded, not really sure what to say. However, he found telling you easy. You were easy to talk to, easy to be around, easy to be with.

The foot traffic slowly trickled outside the window as the night prolonged on. Dinner with death was quite exceptional.

You split from Namjoon when you came home, a shower and a warm bed in your line up. You hummed contently, dinner had put you in bright sprits. You slipped your shirt off and pants changing into something more comfortable when you felt a chill rise your spine. Your nostrils filled with the scent of Earth. You turned towards the window, your curtains were gently flowing in the night breeze. You had this feeling, a pull, telling you to go towards it. You approached the window pulling aside the flowing curtains revealing an empty backyard lit up only by the moonlight. You heard your name being called melodically. You sought out the voice feeling an echo in your chest. It was calling you from somewhere out there. You froze as your eyes focused on a being levitating above the protected grounds outside the boundaries of the property. It was the Witch. Your eyes began to focus on the figure that called out to you in a changing voice that fills your room with her eerie timber. She was so far away yet she has power over you. Despite knowing what she was, you wanted to follow the enticing voice. Threads wrapped around your heart tugging you closer to the window. You brought a hand up to the cold glass, eyes glazing over as you let her control your instincts.

The door flung open, hard enough it put a dent in the wall. Namjoon swept over you like a crow with his expansive arms closing in around you and turning you away from the window. When he broke the spell, you felt like you were punched in the gut. You hunched over into his embrace groaning in pain.

He covered your eyes, “Don’t listen to her.”

He turned you into his chest and you buried your face in his chest covering your ears with your hands. You mumbled nonsense to overpower her spell. From deep within his system lava erupted, “I call upon the hounds.”

In the backyard hell hounds manifest mid stride from vapor. Despite cupping your hands over your ears tugging on your hair, feral barking resonates throughout the room. The sound dimed out until it was nonexistent and you as could only assume they chased the Witch far away.

He took your hands off your ears when it was safe. “Namjoon, what was that?” You clutched at his shirt feeling unsure about your stance.

He sighed, “It wasn’t her, just an animation of her. She can’t come inside these boundaries, don’t worry.”  

Don’t worry? How were you not supposed to worry?

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He closed the window and pulled the curtains. You got back in bed and he sat in the corner of the room like a guard dog. You found it hard to close your eyes, but eventually your eyelids felt heavy. You somehow were able to find sleep.

Days had passed since the animation had shown up. You’ve gone on with your life, there was no there was choice but to keep normalcy.

To keep with normalcy, you were watching TV in the living room. After a long day at work you sprawled out in your comfortable clothes across the couch. Namjoon slumped into the couch with you when he apparated in the living room, this time you didn’t flinch. You didn’t bother turning towards him as he sat, but you passed the popcorn to him. You were watching Family Feud and the host just asked, “Bad jobs for someone who’s accident prone.”

You hummed in thought then responded confidently, “Grim Reaper.”

Namjoon huffed in offense, “Hey!”

You chuckled and he sat through the show with you, stuffing popcorn into his mouth. He squinted, “That doesn’t make sense, why would a lawnmower be a thing you could use to cut vegetables?”

You pointed to the board and said, “Wait for it.”

Then sure enough the host called it and turned to the board and it was on the panel with ten people having suggested it. Namjoon huffed in disbelief, some popcorn waving out of the bowl as he threw his hands in the air.

You took the bowl form him for safety purposes. “The point is you have to think of illogical answers to logical questions. That’s how the game works.”

At some point he began pacing around the couch frustrated that his illogical guesses weren’t illogical enough. When he did start getting one answer right, he sat back down, competitive with the TV. You ended up spending all night on the couch watching a marathon of Family Feud. He looked over to you calling your name, but when you didn’t respond he looked over to you. He realized he was debating on his own and you had fallen asleep curled up on the opposite end of the couch. He turned off the TV and carried you up the stairs like a princess and tucked you in bed. It became routine for you both to watch the show when he came home from wherever he went. You tried asking him where he went, but he gave you a vague response, “Everywhere.” You’d facepalm, there was never any clarity with him.

Namjoon had left his door open to his room one day, and you peeking inside wondering if he wanted breakfast with you. You stepped inside reluctantly calling his name, but there was no response. He had already gone for the day. You looked around his room, you’ve never been in there before. The furniture in his room was dark and monochromatic like the rest of the house. The first thing that caught your eye was the impressive library. You glanced over the curious book titles such as Blood testing for Vampires, Textual Power for Newts, and Sociological Incantations. There were books in Latin, but you didn’t bother even touching those.

There was a column dedicated to leather bound books. You were about to reach for one, but a wave of nausea came over you. You clutched onto the book shelf holding a fist up to your lips burping up a putrid bubble. You felt sick to your stomach suddenly, the books could wait for later. You felt the sudden need to lay down. You wanted to head back to your room, but an intense wave of nausea washed over you and you crashed onto Namjoon’s bed. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, everything was fuzzy. When an intense pain came over you, that was the final blow, then you saw nothing.

Shaking you awake Namjoon’s voiced echoed in your ears until it became crystal clear. You came face to face with Namjoon; his face was covered in dirt and dark smears of red. You sat up haphazardly, “What happened to you?”

He disregarded your question, voice simmering, “What’s wrong? Why are you in my bed?”

You blinked awake taking his chin between your fingers turning his head to inspect for any injury, “Let’s get this checked out.”

You both were avoiding eachothers questioning. You slipped off his bed and into the bathroom wetting a washcloth and went back to him to clean him up. You ran the wet cloth carefully over the gunk on his face. He asked again, “What-happened?”

“I came looking for you,” you realized it was late in the evening, ”but …I felt dizzy for a moment, then took a nap. Sorry I slept on your bed.”

He cupped your cheek taking your attention away from him, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I feel better after taking a nap.” You did, you felt fine.

He nodded, not fully trusting your word but he let you continue your work, “Are you okay? Will you tell me where you’ve been? No avoiding the question Joon.”

Earlier…earlier he…

He had been collecting a soul in Limbo when he felt it. He raised his scythe to his kneeling victim who was rubbing their hands together begging for a second chance. Namjoon scoffed, “A man who hurt his own children and wife doesn’t deserve a second chance. “ He raised his scythe and ripped the soul out of the demon who dared to beg at his feet. The body began dissipating and eventually dissolved into the fog. A muddy brown sludge dripped off his scythe into his hand. He collected the sludge into a ball of sin and crushed it in his hands, “Satera: Ego hoc animo metitur seges. Expiet aeternum non solum pacis sitque terras.” The dirty soul dried up from his hands as he opened his hands back up.

Edax growled from his cave and it echoed throughout Limbo. He felt the echo of vibrations within the stem of his scythe. He didn’t have to seek it out, a crippled hand busted through the soil and the body crawling its way up make the soil boil. A head erupting following shoulders, the other hand, then a torso. The grey being with a head coming from the soil. Namjoon’s nose filled with the scent of rotting meat as the dark macabre emerged from its grave. She stood tall with dark soil falling from her figure. She was wearing that dress…that dress. It hung limply from her decrepit form. A smile formed on her lips, “Hello Namjoon.”

If hatred filtered through the air, the dense fog would be dyed scarlet. Namjoon readied his scythe, “Celina!”

She wasted no time in crookedly running towards him with a shrill scream. He raised his scythe and prepared for the worst. Her dried skin hung to her thin skeleton like body like leather, yet there was so much force in her actions. She crossed blows and he did his best to block them with his scythe and returned with equal force. Her frantic, violent movements were meant to smash him into the Earth from where she had risen.

It was odd she wasn’t using magic, he knew this witch was capable of terrifying things. He lifted her up with his scythe and threw her a few feet off of him. Like an animal on all fours, she bolted her way towards him and lunged at him snarling like a beast. The impact sent the both of them rolling and she kept mauling towards him. They rolled a few times and Namjoon landed under her, her bloody fingers reached out to his face grabbing at him. She scratched at his face and tried digging her fingers into his eyes. She wanted him obliterated, destroyed with nothing left of him but pieces. He concentrated his strength and rolled again with her under him and he continued rolling in the dirt. A wave of soil came off him as he summersaulted to a stand. Taking the opening chance, he swung his scythe and severed her in half. A gut wrenching scream filled the air as he raised his sludge tainted blade one more time. He took this opportunity and severed her head, it rolled cutting through the fog.

He was panting hard, covered in soot and blood, his face was scratched, but he was glad that was all that had happened.

The skull remained in the soil chuckling, “I’m still coming for her Namjoon. You’re not going to stop me. I will always win. Her soul is mine.”

He growled and chopped down the blade going straight through her skull severing the last piece of her. The Lich disintegrated back turning into soil.

Namjoon clenched his scythe in his hands, and roared into the fog, “CELINA!”

He was so close, so close.

“I was summoned.” You remained silent. You knew exactly what that meant, and it explained more than enough for you.

He sighed, “You…can go home now.” Your home had been cleansed for a few days, but he didn’t want to tell you, earlier just solidified that. He wanted you to stay within his grasp where he could protect you. More so, he looked forward to coming home, a home, because there was someone there. A Persephone to his hadistic life.

He quickly followed, “You don’t have to go back, you can stay.”

Two weeks had passed by so quickly. You lowered your hand with the dirty rag. Those dark eyes you’ve become accustom to looking at morning and night, his constant dark attire, and slightly disheveled hair and dorky smile. You would love to stay here. This home was beautiful and felt like home more than your own apartment had ever. You felt protected here…but so was your home now. Things were going to be better. Namjoon was looking over you so she wouldn’t bother you again.

It was going to be okay.

You finished cleaning his face, careful of the scratch marks, “Thank you Namjoon, but I’d like to go home.”

He swallowed any protest, gritting his teeth but he respected your decision despite how much he wanted to argue against it. If he protested harshly you would begin to worry and question things, “Leave in the morning then, it’s too dark out.”

There was a moment of silence between the both of you. You glanced at the discarded scythe on the floor and picked it up. You handed it back to him, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It was going to be okay.

Life went back to normal, you left Namjoon’s home the following morning and it’s been weeks since you’ve moved back home. As Namjoon promised, there weren’t any more incidents with Celina, however, there was always this looming feeling. You never felt truly safe, at least not the way you felt when you were at his home or when he was around. You could take care of yourself though.

Namjoon visited your apartment for dinner every night and often stayed longer after dinner. Your apartment was fairly small, but the giant somehow fit on the couch when he fell asleep watching TV with you. You didn’t mind, you weren’t sure you were comfortable living alone anymore. The couch felt too spacious when he wasn’t hogging about seventy-five percent of it.

You were making dinner the other day when all the sudden he stood up from his chair. He knocked the chair from under him, “I have to go.” You didn’t get a chance to bid him goodbye, he vaporized and only the tossed chair was evidence he was just there. The sizzling of the food in the pan filled the room, as your previous giggling at his joke died out. Just like that, you were alone again.

That was just how things were, and that was okay. Things were okay.

You walked up the stairs to your apartment and took out your keys out of your purse as you walked up. You hummed a tune that played twice as you were making it home on the radio. A funky smell intensified as you walked up the stairs, maybe your neighbor was cooking something rotten again. You came up to your apartment door trying not breath in the foul smell. You covered your mouth with your sleeve picking up speed towards your apartment. You haphazardly jammed your key into the lock then froze when your shoe squelched as you stepped on your welcome mat. You looked down finally noticing the source of the foul smell. Flies eagerly swarmed around the severed pig head that was discarded below your feet like the mat was a dinner platter. Vivid burgundy near black blood from the head had soaked in the doormat. You dropped your keys and into your sleeve you suppressed a scream. You didn’t want to disturb or notify your neighbors. You picked up your keys with a shaky hand and opened your door up and quickly ran into the kitchen to grab a plastic bag and dust pan. You hesitated, reached out once then pulled back screaming in your throat then bit the bullet and shoveled the head into the bag with the pan. With a paper towel you picked up your doormat and blood dripped in a stream off an edge. You quickly packed it into the trash bag avoiding getting it on you, holding back the gag with all your might. You rushed back inside and got bleach and a scrub brush. You got down on your knees covering your mouth with your wrist. You poured bleach onto the blood diluting the coagulated redness replacing the slaughterhouse smell with something equally as intense. You scrubbed furiously, but the cement was stained. You wiped up as much as you could, tossing the dirty rags in the trash bag.  

You made haste towards your apartment’s dumpster. As you walked you held your breath not wanting to take in anymore of that putrid smell. The fear from earlier turning to anger. There was only so much intimidation a person could take before they snapped. You hated this! You hated that she was tormenting you, reminding you that you were tied to her. You tossed in the bag hearing it thud in the hollow bin.

A wave of dizziness suddenly over took you. You heaved and felt a sudden thickening of your saliva with an impressive wave of nausea. You held onto the edge of the bin and began dry heaving. The same dizziness you felt about a few weeks ago at Namjoon’s home. Your heaved once then as much as you tried preventing it you puked. You watched as a pile of mud mounded at your feet splashing onto your shoes. You wiped away the mud at your mouth, it tasted terrible. You looked at your hand noticing the dark sludge. Why were you throwing up dark sludge!

Something was terribly wrong!

You stumbled back up to your apartment. You slammed the door behind you and ran into your room. You yanked Namjoon’s blazer off the hanger and threw it on shoving your arms into the sleeves one at a time. You marched back out into the darkness of your living room standing in the center. You coughed then heavily breathed in, “Namjoon!” You screamed into thin air, “Namjoon!”

Moments later a thick black swirling cloud appeared in front of you. Namjoon’s head was leaning back and he slowly dipped it forward, soot eyes rumbling and smoky. He looked over you and was about to ask what was wrong, but you cut him off, “Why did you lie to me!”

You changed your train of thought, “Tell me what I gotta do.”

He sputtered approaching you, “What?”

You grabbed onto the lapels of his new blazer, “What. Do. I. Have. To. Do. Tell me!”

He grabbed onto your hands trying to release them, but you were tightly gripping, “Tell me what happened first?”

You loosened your grip and paced around for a moment, “A pig’s head on my doorstep that’s what! I can’t let you just try to solve everything Joon, I want to do something! I’m tired of just waiting around for this Witch. I can’t keep living like this! So, tell me! Tell me what I gotta do to help you Namjoon!”

He stepped closer stopping you from pacing. He wiped away the dirt and looked at it sadly, shamefully, he’s been working endlessly, traveling to different realms to find her, but every tendril he latched onto lead him to a loose end.

You shoved his hands away and sat down, wrapping your arms around your chest, the weight of everything adding onto your shoulders. “I’ve looked up who Satera, necromancy, and all this is. I wanted to know what I was dealing with.”

While at Namjoon’s you found some books that had the names of things that sounded familiar. It led you down a rabbit hole giving you more answers than Namjoon had ever. Satera was the goddess of Balance, a Titan of Earth and is the keeper of souls. You found out why witches weren’t supposed to deal in necromancy. Bringing someone back from the dead was cheating Satera and in order for Earth to be balanced a soul had to be collected. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

His eyes widen, fatigue showing through his normally passive demeanor. Anger was building in his system, just what have you been sticking your nose into.

Most importantly, “Namjoon, you said that the dress tainted my soul.”

He nodded, “Why are you stating the obvious y/n?”

You sat and thought for a second back to a passage you read, “If-if I have a tie to her because of that dress and her soul has tainted me, then that means…I have magic too, don’t I?”

He was quite for a moment, worried if he spoke it will only inspire pandora. “I don’t think it works that way Y/n.” He shook his head in disbelief, going over a thousand more rejections in his mind.

You stood up he wouldn’t look you in the eyes when he said that. He wasn’t even humoring you! “If I do, then I have to fight her! We have a fighting chance against her. I have to put an end to this! So tell me, Namjoon! Let me help you!”

He turned around opaque, black smoke spilling out his mouth, “Then what? What if you get hurt and die? If I submit the wrong soul, then I get punished and I’m gone forever! I’ll end up just like my father! You’re not the only one on the line Y/n! If they find out—Satera finds out—that a human is working alongside me—!”

You raised your voice, “But I’m not completely human right now, I’m partial to the taint, you know that! It’s all the more reason for me to help! We have to try Joon! We can’t keep running into dead ends!”

He was firm, “No, you’re not getting involved in this.”

You argued, “I can’t keep looking over my shoulder wondering when she’ll appear!”

“Just let me take care of it!” he growled.

Words flew from your mouth, “And you see how well that’s going!” You felt regret as soon the venom left your spit, you had pushed harder than was wise. Yet, it was true. You felt so useless, a coward, you hated feeling this way. You hated feeling so vulnerable. His protection was only going so far because she kept finding ways to get to you.

He hard paused, hurt passing over his expression, “I’m-doing-the-best-I-can.”

Your lower lip quivered words slowly making way out of your mouth, “But it’s not enough.”

He steamed right up to you, chest to chest as he enunciated every hot breathy word. “NO! ENOUGH! Enough of—this! That’s the end of this discussion. You’re-not-getTING- INVOLVED!” He panted over your face, neatly tucked hair falling out of its place.

The both of you stood there, your glassy eyes intensely locked on his, you weren’t backing down, not even in the face of death. The air between you was ice cold. He took a deep breath closing his eyes centering himself again. The crimson drained out of his face, face unreadable as there was no typical smirk or dimples. He showed you his back, opening his eyes afterwards. There was a beat of silence when neither of you spoke and he was gone.

When he was gone a tear rolled down your cheek. You weren’t going to give up. With no fire there is no smoke, but sparks were coming.

You knew Namjoon wasn’t home during the day, off in the Hellscape or somewhere. After the argument the molten behind your words still were rumbling; you thought over and over how you could solve this on your own. With or without Namjoon. You drove to Namjoon’s home a few days later with a semblance of plan. Your car drove through the sea of orange and red leaves and they waved around your car as you drove through the suburban streets. You pulled into Namjoon’s driveway and the gate opened for you. You parked in front of the house, not bothering to properly park. You walked up the steps to the inverted torch crested front door. You traced your hand over the torch a tingling sensation tickled your fingertips, “I’m sorry Namjoon, but I must do this.”

You stuck your hands in the ivy that surrounded the door fishing for the extra house key. When you hand felt cold metal, you plucked it off a vine. The key itself resembled a torch except the blade was sawed like a normal key. You stuck it in the lock and twisted it waiting for the click. You turned the knob and pushed inwards. You locked the door behind you and took your shoes off at the entrance. “Namjoon? Namjoon are you home?” Your voice echoed throughout the house, but there wasn’t a echo back.

You bolted for Namjoon’s room. While contemplating, tossing and turning in bed, you remembered the bookcases in his room. He must keep something, maybe vital information, within one of those books. He always had his nose in one of those when he wasn’t watching TV with you. You just knew that there had to be something in there that could help you. You skidded as you rounded the banister, the rug bunching up as you drifted. You ran down the hallway, adrenaline running through your veins in anticipation. You knew you had a few hours before he came home. The exotic plants in the hall shivered as you zoomed past. You flung Namjoon’s bedroom door open. The large room was neatly kept, rays of light filtered in through the large windows breaking through the ash tree outside his window. It strongly smelled like him too, outlandishly of charcoal mixed with natural, delicate scents. You cautiously set down your purse on a bench. You avoided going through his desk, the only thing out was an hour glass that was top heavy. Facing the expansive library, “Speak to me books.”  

You browsed through his books, taking a few down from the shelfs. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but something’s gotta give. Book after book came up with no details that could help. You touched a book shelf and it tingled just like the door had. You kept holding onto the feeling and trailed your hands along the spines of the books. The sensation picked up as you moved right skipping bookcase after case. The sensation kept building and building vibrating your skin until it stung. Yeowing you pulled your hand back like you just touched fire. You stopped in front of a bookcase filled to the ceiling with leather bound books. You were going to test your theory, you felt silly, but you spoke out like you saw all wizards in movies, “Reveal something.” You cautiously reached back and delicately touched the books. You pulled out a book upon instinct and flipped to the first page. The journal that didn’t look a part of this century or from this century. Three hundred wasn’t a joke was it?

You felt guilty for looking through it, your conscious telling you to put it down, that this was a bad idea. You shoved those thoughts back, you needed answers. You flipped through the brittle pages, but a lot of what was written was in an ancient language or Latin. Some pages were missing as the binding was falling apart from where the original creator had sewed the binding. You placed it back on the shelf and picked through more journals. You should’ve brought a Latin dictionary with you. The journals changed according to the time frame, but it was hard to place which volume came before the next. The last journal in the row was a black leather book with rounded edges. Your eyes were growing tired after going through about fifty some books. You kept flipping through the journal, some pages started halfway, some only had a top sentence, while others were just empty. You and found a passage in a readable language.

You traced your fingers over the word:

“Debt soils the heart

drives the mind mad.

I couldn’t save him…I couldn’t save her either.

I’m sorry.”

Couldn’t save him…her?

Numbers and letters were scribbled below the monologue. You turned the journal wondering if changing your perspective would give you a new view. You sat there staring at it. Couldn’t-save-him, debt, what does that mean. You pulled out your phone and plugged the numbers and letters into google and an address popped up. This was it! Maybe this place could help you! You quickly took a picture of the address and slid the journal back in place along with the rest of the books. You checked the room over once and picked up your purse. You needed to go before he came back.

You closed his bedroom door with a click as you turned around you ran straight into something. You boomeranged backwards and caught yourself on the doorframe. Namjoon had his arms crossed over his chest, “What were you doing in there?”

“I-I I left behind something in my room…and I used the extra house key to get in. I didn’t want to bother you about it.” You righted yourself trying to find some structure.

He titled his head to the side, “That doesn’t explain why you were in my room.”

You brushed the hair out of your face feeling a heavy blush creeping up your neck, “I…I was…I missed you.”

His arms feel down to his side, features softening up and a hesitant dimpled smile appearing on his face. A blush you didn’t know could exist on his face blossomed. “Oh,” that was his only response.

You bit on your bottom lip, it wasn’t a complete lie. You had missed him, you hated that the first time you saw eachother again was because of that.

He softened up, “I’m sorry about the other day, I shouldn’t have reacted that way. But I still don’t want you getting involved.” He rubbed his hands together, “I just…you’re already involved enough.” He bit his tongue, swallowing his pride, “Would you come back? Your apartment isn’t safe, no type of cleansing or spell over your apartment is going to keep her away.”

A dead rat in equal condition showed up in place of where the pig’s head was the next day. You didn’t want to stay there longer to find out what else was going to show up.

“Okay,” but he didn’t have to know that you weren’t going to give up.

Dimple sink his cheeks as he sighed in relief, the brought you into an unexpected hug.  He kept you in a strong embrace as if holding you wasn’t quite enough. You could feel every part of him as he pressed you tightly against him. You yelped then sunk into the warmth, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of his body pressing into yours. When you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him back his dimples became craters. You rested your cheek against his chest and heard a strong heartbeat. “I’m sorry too Joon.” He squeezed you humming in relief as an answer. You wondered if he could feel your beating heart too?

He asked against your hair, “Are you hungry?”

You laughed tapping his back once, untangling yourself from his embrace. You walked backwards towards the staircase with a side of your lips raised, “As long as you’re not cooking.”

He blinked hard jutting his chin out towards you, “Hey, I’ve gotten better! I’ve only burnt one pan since you’ve left.”

He watched your face evolve from a felines smirk to that of a classic horror film. “Namjoon, you did not!”

He walked past whistling like he had no care in the world with a fool’s smile. You followed after him, “Namjoon, was that the only thing you burned?”

Surely enough, that wasn’t the only thing he burned.

 Namjoon had fallen asleep on the couch next to you as you were watching Family Feud. You searched up the address you had taken earlier. The first result that came up was a pawn shop downtown. You did some research on the shop, but nothing particularly odd came up. All the reviews were about how they got a fair price on antiques and knick-knacks. It was nearly midnight and you decided you’d have to call tomorrow on your lunch break.

You turned off the TV and got up with a grunt. You picked up the book off of Namjoon’s face and set it on the coffee table. You pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and splayed it over him. You squatted down and situated a pillow under his head carefully. He smacked his lips a few times as he adjusted his head into comfortable position. You brushed the hair out of his face and kept petting unconsciously. A full minute had passed before you noticed you were longingly staring. This man was a nightmare when you first met him, he was going to have you killed, but here you were, tucking him in for the night.

You leaned in and pressing your lips to his forehead, “Night Joon.”

He was dead asleep, but you swore a faint smile pulled at his lips.

Tomorrow, you were going to figure things out. There was always tomorrow.

From the images you saw of the place online it looked like a place for eccentric hippies or kooky rich people. You snuck away from your coworkers and sought out a place where you could make a phone call in private. Your leg has been shaking under your desk all day counting the hours on the clock until you could make this call. You crossed an arm over your mid-section as dialed the number you found. When the dial tone kept ringing, you nibbled on your thumb.

A man picked up, “The Strange and Unusual Pawn Shop, how may I satisfy your curiosity?”

You swallowed, you honestly didn’t prepare well for this. You thought back to the script…him…her, you tried the later, “I was wondering if… she was there?”

He questioned, “Who?”

You honestly had no idea who “she” was, so you tried it again with an emphasis, “You know…her.”

You cleared your throat a bit, embarrassed to say it out loud, “She’s the only one that can help me. She knows someone important.”

He chuckled, “Sorry kid, can’t help you.”

You shouted into the speaker, “No, wait! I’m not some kid looking for Hogwarts, or a basement dweller that lives in their parents’ house, I—I need to—. You know what, forget it!”

You were about to hang up when the guy on the line said, “Miss, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry, but…the magician you’re asking about, she doesn’t work here anymore.”

So there was a she! At the same time, you felt your heart drop, what were you supposed to do now. You were going to have to start from scratch again.

He sighed into the receiver, “Look…I’m not supposed to do this, but whatever it is, it sounds really important. Here, write this down.”

You scrambled and pulled a pen out of your pocket and began writing down the address he was giving you on a receipt from your coffee run this morning. You sighed in relief, “Thank you, you have no idea, thank you.”

He chuckled, “Good luck,” then hung up.

You went back to work but headed straight towards the bathroom. You pulled out hair from its neatly tucked position and slapped your cheeks a few times. You lightly patted some water on your face and neck before you booked it out the bathroom towards your boss’s office. You knocked on the door and heard a muffled come in. You breathed in a structuring breath, counting down the seconds… and action!

You held onto the door knob and pushed open the door dramatically stumbling into the office. Your legs were bow legged with a case of clubfoot as you leaned on the door feverishly panting. You swallowed and held a hand up to your perspiring forehead, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can make it through the rest of the day.”

Your boss looked up at you with a panicked look, “Oh my God! O-k-okay, go home and rest up Ms. Y/L/N.”

You nodded squeezing your eyes shut, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll make it.”

Your boss asked, “Are you able to make it home okay?”

You waved him off with your hand, “Yes, yes, I’ll be fine.”

You began closing the door as he looked at you sympathetically, “I’m sorry.”

With a click of the door you speed walked over to your desk, still holding up the façade of illness. Your coworkers asked if you were alright and you coughed to play it up. You packed your stuff assuring them you just needed to go home.  You took the elevator and as soon as the door closed you let a smirk rise on your face. The elevator opened up to the parking garage, your heels clacked and echoed in the parking lot. You pulled your hair out of its tight confides and shook it loose. You threw your purse into your passenger seat and set your GPS to the address the clerk had given you. You were going to chase the smoke and dig into the ashes to find the heart of it all.

You drove through the city and ended up in a neighborhood where tightly packed townhomes went on for about twenty blocks. The townhomes were classic brick, three story tall homes with white windows and black iron fences. You found a spot luckily right in front of the address, the street was practically empty since it was still working hours. You stared at the quaint home through your passenger window, the home seemed so…innocent. You rounded about your car and stepped up onto the sidewalk as a young jogger ran past you. The community seemed to be family friendly and young. Was the woman you were about to meet young as well? Was she a past lover of Namjoon’s? Steeling your lips, you needed to find out if she could help you rather if she shared overtly friendly embraces with Namjoon.

You pushed open the gate and climbed up the cement stoop to a white door that had golden numbers reading off 45730. You lifted the gold door knocker and tapped it three times then stepped back. Behind you another jogger ran past, but this time with a speedy canine. You turned to watch them, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door. You were about to knock on the door again when you heard the lock turning. The door fully opened, and words left you, heart falling silent, you couldn’t will your lips to move. You gawked at the woman before you who had a wonky gait, probably from arthritis, as she pulled the door open. She was seventy at minimum considering the deep-set wrinkles that could rival canyons. Her height reached no more than five two and her width was plump. Her ghostly, thick grey hair was neatly braided, and it hung over her shoulder hanging down to her waist. Her deep set eyes propped on pink, cracked cheeks were cloudy and ashy like her hair, not the albino type though. You swear they pillowed like smoke as they focused on you. In short you realized, she was blind.

Her articulate voice was soft, “Hello, may I help you?”

You stuttered, “H-Hello, I’m Y/n. I’m looking for…the magician.”

She scoffed muttering “magician” mockingly under her breath. She adjusted the purple shawl on her shoulders, “There’s no magician here.”

She began shutting the door on you, but you stuck your foot in the door, grunting as the door slammed your toes. “W-ooO-wait, wait, please!”

She opened the door back up, releasing your toes. You massaged your foot hissing, “Please, just let me ask you some questions. I need your help.”

Her face fell, wrinkles sagging at the depression. She looked away from you, “I’m sorry, but the witch isn’t in anymore.”

You stood there in stupor as she slammed the door in your face. Punctuation taken. You weren’t convinced though, you knocked on the door with both hands until your knuckles hurt. “Please, please, I’m going to die if you don’t help me.” You kept knocking, but the tempest didn’t respond to your pleas. Dampness built in the corner of your eyes as your knocks turned into sluggish thuds. A carousel of thoughts passed through your mind, and each one gets more toxic in its turn. Blisters were forming on your knuckles, “Please.”

You turned around and slumped down on the staircase with your head in your hands. What were you going to do now?

The door slowly creaked open again, “Come in, don’t start attracting attention now.”

You sprung up to your feet, fixing your hair up and wiping the budding water in your eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She stepped aside and let you in to her home.

The house was larger than the outside led on. You were a bit worried that she would run into things, but she navigated perfectly fine. Her furniture isn’t rounded but sharp like the creator intended. She trailed her hand over her dining table, “Take a seat, I’ll prepare some tea.” You looked up and hanging above the table was a swirled chandelier where cream candles of various sizes burned, and their wax dripped down the side like stalagmites from the edges.

You pulled out a red mid-century chair and sat down tucking your feet under you and your purse on your lap. The table was wooden, but unevenly painted teal and the chairs were mismatched that came from different times and styles. In the center of the table an incense was burning, but the ashes disappeared as it fell. She came back to the table with equally mismatched tea cups onto the table. You accepted it with both hands, “Thank you.”

She smiled, the wrinkles on her face deepening for a split second. “Green tea…it calms the nerves. I can hear your heart beating and I’m sure they can hear it in kingdom come too.”

Your face heated up, were you that obviously nervous even to a blind woman?

“I’m sorry to bother you, I called the pawn shop and they told me you were here.”

“Call me Kaya, child.”

You introduced yourself formally, “I’m Y/n.”.

She stirred her tea twirling her finger above the liquid and naturally it swirled. Your jaw dropped, simple acts of magic still impressed you. You were still getting used to this world. She spoke casually, her voice melodically filling the room, “I used to help out there, but I’ve retired from my ways a very long time ago.”

She sipped her tea with a hum of content, you followed along taking the perfectly warm cup in your hand carefully sipping from the rim. The taste is absolutely delicious, you felt a wave of calmness as it washed down your throat.

“Why are you here child? What can an old, blind hag do for you?”

You aren’t sure where to start, “I bought a dress that belonged to a witch.”

The woman across from you a-ha’s as if she knows the rest of your story. She set down her tea and stretched out her hand palm up. On her wrist was a tattoo of a wheel, but it was crossed out erratically as if it was scratched by a cat as her sleeve raised up. “Give me your hand child.”

You placed your hand in hers. Her oddly bony, cold hands ran over yours and she hummed, she squeezed your hand tight as she grunted. Fatigue plagued her suddenly worn face, “A terrible witch has touched your soul child.” She continued to run her hand along the veins in your hand, humming as she finds specific spots. “What about the dress child?”

“She was a resurgent.” She dropped your hand like she touched fire. Your knuckles thunked against the table and you brought them back to your lap shyly.

She hissed, “Resurgent?”

You swallowed hard, “Yes…and that dress, she wore it when she did her thing, so now I’m her next target.”

With a bit of confidence you scooted to the edge of your seat pursing your lips, you wanted to be honest with her, “I did some research and because I’ve been…tainted by her…some of her is with me. So, I want to know…, “you mess with your hands unable to meet her gaze, “do I have the ability to do magic as well? Am I a witch now because our souls are tangled?”

You sat in silence for a moment as she debated internally. It was the same way Namjoon had reacted when you told him. The longer she remained silent the more anxious you felt, were you unsalvageable? You sipped a bit of your tea. She bravely reached across the table again, taking your hand and brought your hand up to her chest over her heart and stared directly into your eyes. Her eyes swirled iridescently as she sought within your soul. When she let go she was panting holding onto the tabletop. You caught yourself coughing when she let go, but shakily stood up and rushed rushed over to her, “Are you alright Ma’am? What just happened?”

She looked up at you, her forehead  dripping sweat. “Child, you’re not dealing with just any necromancer…if I think who I think you’re dealing with then…,” she looked away, maybe even afraid to mutter the words.

You speak them for her, “Celina.”

Her eyes widened, you spoke the exact words she dared not to. Solemnly she repeated, “Celina.” She rose from her seat and silently you followed her as walked back towards the stairs, slowly taking each step at a time with a huff. You took her hand and moved it to your forearm to help her up. She smiled and thanked you. When we reached the top of the stairs, she still held onto your hand and led you to a huge room where a large, black, cast iron cauldron was at the edge of a long working table. Unmatched Bookcases were filled with books and other shelfs had various sized and shaped bottles filled with potions. In the bottles some potions boiled, swirled about a toxic looking smoke, or ominously glowed. Crystals grew along a wall and different species of plants hung from the ceiling, some followed your movements. A gentle fire burned in a fireplace, you didn’t remember there being a chimney from the outside.

She let go of your hand and walked up to a bookcase. Some of the books jingled and shifted as she trailed her hand along their spine, “There.” She brought out a red orange, leathery book and opened it to a page she had memorized. She skimmed over the words with her fingers nodding along as she read them, despite them not being brail she was perfectly able to read them. She clapped the book shut with one hand, “That Lich, creating Vasanima.”

You repeated the last word but butchered it, “Va-shawn-minya?”

The witch laughed kindly, “Vasanima child.” She tapped her cheek with her finger as she propped her head into her palm, “She split up her soul and that dress, a Vasanima, holds a piece of her soul…but whomever takes new ownership of the item a part of their soul gets sucked in too, tangling with the creators like a contract.”

She hesitated to tell you more, “You are right child, you have great magic within you.”

You blurted out, “Will you teach me?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head putting away the book, “I don’t practice anymore.”

You begged, “Please, I need to know. You said I do have magic!”

“I don’t practice anymore.” She gathered her hands in front of her like a prissy cat. “You may leave if tha—.”

Your stomach felt full of lead, “I’m going to die if I don’t! Satera is going to come for me instead and Namjoon is going to die! I don’t want to die!”

She whipped her head to the side, “Namjoon?”

You grabbed her hand encasing them in yours surprising her with your sudden movements. You felt the tingle between you again, “Please, please, I’ll do anything! Teach me how to do witchcraft, magic, wizardry, whatever this is, please, please…please teach me.”

She grabbed onto your forearms and stared you in the eyes again, her pearls were swirling jaw going slack for a moment. She heavily sighed, blinking away the intensity, “Hold out your hands and repeat after me: Evigilare.” Her voice rang through your body like a gong, knocking on an unopened gate.

You held out your arms in front of you, palms facing up, and tested the word out, “E-Evi-gil-are.”

She scoffed, “Confidence child.”

You clear your throat and lick your lips, “Evigilare!”

A tingling pins and needles sensation shot up your suspended limbs. You hissed wanting to rub the pinching pain away, but you fought against the urge knowing you were to endure this. The acute feeling eases out into a pulse in your fingertips then your throbbing fingertips begin glowing. Suddenly flames licked and engulfed your hand. Your vision shifts, and you see colors like you’ve never seen them before, green flickering flames ghost between rose, magenta, then back to green. You let out a yelp expecting excruciating pain, but the burn never came. It felt smooth and silky, like fire was running in your veins, and intense overwhelming power. Power…magic, this was witchcraft. It was so powerful vibrating through your whole system, “Ms. Kaya is this…is this magic?”

She doesn’t have to see to know, she feels the great energy emitting from you in her bones. She feels it, “That’s magic child.”

“Will you teach me then?”

She grabbed onto your wrist and the flames in your hands extinguish like an off switch. Your eyes bugged, how was she able to do that!

“If you must defeat her…then I will teach you.”

You light up, surging forward to hug her, “Thank you, thank you.” The building tears from earlier coming back with a vengeance. You break down in her arms, muttering out snotty thank you’s.

Her hard smile turns soft as she rubs your spine, “Enough crying child, save those tears for when you start complaining I’m working you too hard.”

You laugh through the tears and nod.

The true hardship was beginning.

You stood at the front door with your coat hanging over your arm hand reaching towards the knob with hesitation. The door flung open Namjoon standing there, “Hey, what are you doing there?”

You stuttered for a moment pulling a smile, “I was trying to remember if I left something in the car.”

He nodded and stepped aside letting you in, “I bought take out, it’s getting cold hurry up.” You stood at the door watching as he walked away. You couldn’t help staring at his figure frozen like a statue. You felt the truth bubbling up in your throat, you wanted to tell him. You hated keeping secrets.

He suddenly stopped calling your name, once, twice, then on the third time you registered it. You blinked away, “Yeah-yeah?”

Carefully approaching you, “Are you okay?”

You laughed it off, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just been a long day.” He took your hand and led you inside wordlessly. You appreciated that, actions spoke louder anyways.

You don’t tell Namjoon a single thing. You smiled through dinner except he didn’t spend late night couch hogging with you. He had work to deal with, so he couldn’t join you. You stared at him with puppy eyes, you wanted to spend a quiet evening with him. You needed that. He gave a dimply smile and ruffled your hair, “I’ll be back, I promise.”

He stepped back and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

You sighed and picked up the dirty dishes. You paused in your step as you heard the hounds barking in the distance. You kept walking, disregarding the sounds. Warm water rinsed away bits off food instantly, you moistened the sponge and scrubbed of the residue. A wave of familiarity came over you, you felt your saliva thickening, your esophagus burning with a building pressure causing you to violently cough. Holding onto the side of the counter, your core contracted sporadically as you hacked. Bile was tickling the back of your throat, the acid burning, you were going to throw up. Your cheeks puffed out as you felt your mouth filling with a thick liquid. You hunched over the sink and let the contents project out of you. At the corner of your lip a string of drool hung limply as you fully hunched over the sink. You stared at the content finding your dinner amongst the dark…dirt. Your senses felt sharper after expelling everything you had picking up on the sour scent of puke, soil and the metallic smell of iron.

Another wave of nausea and again your cheeks puffed wide, this was going to be worse than the last one. You heaved, throat burning impossibly, and your mouth stretched out a massive clot of dirt covered in gelatinous blood left you. Your shaky hand reached for the lever and you turned on the water to wash down the waste. You watched the brick mud swirl down the sink as you spat out the excess swirling in your mouth. You brought the sprayer closer to you and you washed out your mouth. You kept washing until your teeth wasn’t crunching on soil and your tongue didn’t taste iron. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, your hearing was muffled, but you stood back up.

You stood there under the kitchen lights, the TV  humming in the background and dirty dinner plates in the sink. The constant stream of water pouring was becoming clearing in your ears. You reached out and pushed the lever down cutting off the sound. You looked up through your lashes, but not focusing on anything specific.

Once more than night when you were showering you threw up again. Under your covers, fighting a headache, dizziness and a sore throat you made a decision. You flung off your blankets, sleep wouldn’t come to you anyways and began typing away on your laptop. You had to make haste, catalyze things even faster.

As you typed away, the hounds howled, snarling at what you could only imagine lurked in the tree line.

Only…imagine.

You handed in your resignation letter to work the next day with little to no explanation. You drove over to Kaya’s home immediately after, knocking on the door like a crazy woman. She answered the door already walking away as she left the door open for you. She called over her shoulder, “You’re earlier than I was expecting child.”

You shyly replied, honestly feeling groggy and jittery from no sleep, “I need all the lessons I can get.”

She smiled and led you up to her craft room. You tried helping her up the stairs but she swatted your hand away, “Child, I’ve lived alone for hundreds of years, I’m not that kind of old woman yet.”

You snickered, “I’m sorry Ms. Kaya.”

“It’s Kaya, child. Again, I’m not that kind of old yet.”

Your cheeks were hurting holding in the laughter, “Sorry, sorry.”

You couldn’t see it, but a smile was on her face as you followed her up the stairs into her craft room. She ran her hand across her work space then knocked thrice for good luck, “Prepare yourself Y/n.”

You shook your head like a bobble head, exhausted but eager, “Ready.”

Kaya wasn’t kidding when she said save the tears for later. You spent mornings until the evening at Kaya’s building the basics. She made you read and memorize what things were before you even thought about casting spells. She was surprised because you picked up all the techniques fast, faster than she ever did and memorized things with easy recall. By the end of the first week she casually suggested to finally start with actual casting.

She knocked on the table three times before she hung a hand in the air, “This is the standard position, now repeat after me and hold it until I say so.”

You held your hands up and after a few minutes your triceps were burning, “Kayyyaaaaa, how much longer?”

She smacked the underside of your elbows when you started slacking, “A Witch must have strength in their arms.”

You blinked hard at the pain trying to will it away. She finally let you release it and you heaved dramatically feeling an onset dead arm syndrome kick in. “Hmmm, you’re no match for Celina if that is too much for you.”

You turned dramatically, feeling insulted, narrowing your eyes like a feline. You wanted to prove Kaya, to yourself, you were worthy. You posited yourself in standard again, “Let’s keep going!” You challenged her word, and she responded with a soft good then three knocks.

Hours went by, you were getting familiar with casting positions and awakening muscle groups you’ve never knew existed. You could feel the reserves in your body, the same fire in your veins begging to be casted. Progress was being made.

Namjoon found himself eating leftovers for dinner because you were never home for dinner lately. He would place your plate in the microwave to keep it warm. He often would scrap it into the bin after hours of waiting. He began watching Family Feud on his own too, but it wasn’t the same. You weren’t there to compete or make the show as interesting as it normally was. There was too much blanket, too much couch space, too much popcorn in the bowl. He hated not tugging the blanket off you slowly just to bug you.

When you did come home late exhausted, dark circles were beginning to weigh heavy under your eyes. He’d ask about it, but you’d wave it off, “It just that time of the year where work is heavy.”

He…missed you.

Three weeks into training and you were learning spoken spells, finally casting. You held your arms up with a wand in your hand, you were trying to focus your energy into the conductor.

She instructed as she paced around you, “Stronger Y/n! Pour your energy into it!”

A wave of nausea overcame you. It was becoming more frequent and was becoming a normalcy. You held it in and quietly burped it away. The feeling wouldn’t settle and you knew what coming. You dropped your wand and booked it towards the restroom.

Kaya yelled hearing your feet thud on the wooden floor, “Y/n! Where are you going, you can’t just quit!”

You stumbled, running into the banister before you sharp turned into the bathroom. You flipped up the toilet seat and began unleashing. Kaya came running behind you with a hand on the doorframe. She heard the wrenching coming from you. She carefully touched along the doorframe and counter coming closer to you, “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

She rubbed your back sympathetically. When you pulled up, she caught the scent of your puke. She covered her nose with her hand and made a sound of disgust. You flushed the toilet, embarrassment taking over.

It took her a moment, but she recognized that scent: the soil of the dead.

She asked upfront, “How often?”

You wiped at the edge of your mouth slumping onto the cold tiles, “At least twice a day.”

She sighed heavily and helped you up and quietly cleaned you up, “This is something a special potion can help ease.”

She walked you back into her lab and brewed “the potion” in her cauldron. She ladled some tea out of the cauldron into a funky tea cup then handed it to you. The more time you spent with Kaya the more you realized that tea was her cure all, “It won’t stop it, but at least it’ll settle your soul.”

She poured her own tea and sat across from you. “Celina…was my sister.”

You we’re still lightly coughing, “What!”

She ran her fingers over the rim of her tea cup. Your eyes flickered down noticing the tea in her cup swirled painting the images flowing within her mind. Hypnotically you watched as the hazy image took resolution of a familiar woman, Kaya, but she was significantly younger, everything about her was so different especially her eyes. Her eyes were a deep brown that resembled the sweetest basset hound. She’s in this home, in her kitchen sipping tea at the same teal table. The front door busted open and slammed shut, clacking of heavy shoes echoed into the kitchen and out of the shadows a cloaked figure ran into the kitchen. The figure unveiled themselves pulling down the hood revealing a woman underneath. She frantically grabbed Kaya’s hands, “Kaya, they’re coming for me! We have to leave! They’re coming for me.”

Kaya pulled the woman down to sit in a seat across from her, panic painted on her face, “No Celina, what do you mean? Who’s coming for you?”

“The council! They’re going to hang me, they found out!”

Kaya was panicked, “What did they find out!”

Celina let go of her sister’s hands, embarrassed, “That I’ve been practicing the dark arts.”

Kaya spat, “You what!”

Celina began to toil with anger, “You know I am capable than more than they allow us!”

“Its illegal for a reason Celina!”

“You don’t get it Kaya! They’re going to come for the whole family, including you! They think your involved too!”

Kaya spat, “You’ve gotten us all involved! Now you think I’m stupid to do such a thing and follow you?”

Celina grew furious, “I know I was stupid, but come with me then!”

“My son, I can’t leave my son!”

Celina grew furious, “Take him too!”

Kaya smacked her hand off her, “No Celina, I don’t think you understand. I’m not guilty of whatever you were involved in. I can’t come with you!”

Celina grew furious, “You’ve never trusted me!”

“You put this upon yourself!”

Celina’s eyes glowed red as she lifted her hands up, and dishes levitated along with her, “I’ll make you then!” With her outburst dishes flew across the room towards Kaya, who ducked and found cover under the table. Kaya popped up and sent a spell towards Celina striking her. A magical fight broke out, it was like a battle between two martial artists, but lightening sparked between the two of them.

Kaya’s back slammed into the wall as her sister took a cheap shot. blood was streaming down Kaya’s face where the jinx had scathed her. Celina’s took a step forward cracking a plate under her shoe, “You’ve always been greedy sister, always in the top spot. I’ve never been able to beat you. It’s always been you!”

A boy, barely the age of ten, came into the room rubbing his eyes, “Mommy?”

Kaya’s eyes grew comically she wiped her towards the voice, “Mallory, go back to your room!”

Kaya’s son screamed, “Mommy!”

Celina smirked, “I’m going to show you true greed. You’re going to pay for all the years you’ve belittled me.”

Celina turned around and raised her hands, “Then you can’t remember me or any of this. I will erase everything.”

Kaya screamed out, “No! Celina! NO!”

Celina chanted, “Conspectum auferat, auferre memoriae, eam omnia!” A hot red bolt charged out of her and hit her nephew. Mallory screamed, and his eyes glazed over into a cataract resemblance. His head began to transform to that of a bore and his limbs lost their small stature as he began to grow into a monstrous size. He screamed as his body grew, bones extending, and he stretched out the doorframe. He thrashed about hands clutching his face, roaring in pain.

Kaya screamed, “Stop Celina!” Kaya jumped in front of her sister into the stream of magic and was struck with the spell. Kaya’s eyes lost their brilliant blue and faded into pearls, the eyes you were used to seeing. Celina tried catching her but had a loose grip on her sister’s wrist. Celina’s nails scratched over the witch’s tattoo over her wrist causing Kaya to scream even louder. Kaya screamed as she lost her sight covering her eyes. From here the memories go dark, there is only audio that rings in your ears.

“You got what you deserved,” footsteps were clattering, heavy thudding and glass breaking filling your ears, but distinctly clacking of heavy shoes echoed away until it ceased with a slamming of a door.

A black smoke began to fill the tea and eventually it was back to regular Green tea and you could only see the cracked bottom of the ceramic cup.

You didn’t realize tears were streaming down your face. You recognized the beast, it was Kaya’s son, Exadus Animae was her son.

“My sister and I were always competitive, but she took it to heart. She felt like she was less than because our parents doted on me more because I was the oldest, I had responsibility. I never wanted her to feel that way. I always made sure she was loved just as much, but it wasn’t enough. I never knew she would take it…that far.”

You can feel it in yours, this has squeezed at her heart for centuries. “I want to stop my sister. I want to put an end to her evil.” She grabbed your hand, “Child with the potential you have, you are the only one that can do it. You’re the one that can bring her down. You have the potential to become a greater witch than myself and her.”

You let the tears stream down and squeezed her hands back. “I’m sorry,” those were the only words you could get out.

There was so much you had to learn.

He hated going to places like this, but this was where evil crept freely. He made his way through the crowd; the strobing lights were blinding and the music numbing. He hated the smell of this place especially, it smelled like sorrow and sour loneliness. A succubus crashed into him swaying on her heels, she grabbed onto his arm as she pressed her chest up to him. She shouted at him over the music, “Hmmm, what is a Reaper doing in this part of town?”

He played into her trick, “Has Celina been around?”

She pouted, “Why are you talking about that Witch when I’m here?”

He trailed a delicate finger down her cheek, “Baby girl I’m asking a question, Have you?”

The succubus shivered loving the attention and nickname. She stood back up obediently with a thoughtful face, “No, but her recent play thing is here.” She pointed across the room through the swaying salacious bodies to the back of the club where a man with about five women hanging off him was tucked in a booth. He easily spotted the demon being nearly the tallest being there. Demons and their desires.

He shoved her off, “Thanks.”

She scoffed, “Hey!”

He couldn’t hear her protest anymore as he pushed through the crowd and came up to the booth. When the nymphs caught on to Namjoon they gasped and filtered out of the booth like roaches, “Hey, hey, ladddiesss!”

Namjoon growled, “Where is she?”

The playboy flipped hair out of his face and shrugged as he took a shot. “I’ve slept with many, who are you talking about?”

Namjoon didn’t humor the demon with a response.

“Don’t tell me I’ve slept with your bitch?”

Namjoon grew frustrated, “Where’s Celina?”

The demon shrugged again swirling his empty shot glass, “Don’t know.”

Namjoon grabbed the collar of the guy and dragged him outside through a side exit door into an alley. He shoved the demon up to the brick wall, “You’re going to tell me where she is.”

“And what, what are you going to give me if I do?”

Namjoon held out his hand, “Flax.” His scythe appeared in his hand and he shoved it under the guys jaw. “Nothing, you get nothing, but you get to live. I could feed you to Edax as I slice you up and feed you to him piece by piece.”

Panic filtered in the eyes as his eyes flickered between the scythe and him. “You’re the R-R-R-Reaper? “

The guy flipped the switched in a second the cocky smirk returning, “You can’t, that’s against Satera.”

Namjoon pushed the scythe harder into the guys jaw, “Watch me.”

The guy gulped, “Okay, okay, chill bro!”

“WHERE!”

“I last saw her here about a week ago. She looked really desperate, like sickly dude. I swear she was like fallin’ apart or some shit. I was gonna approach her but she already had another dude she was smashing faces with, then they disappeared.”

Namjoon kept his eyes locked on the guy waiting for more information. The guy squinted his eyes trying to think of more information, “Ugh-ugh, oh! Oh! What was weird was she smelled like cemetery soil, like strongly.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed, “Like…dirt?”

The guy nodded frantically. “That’s all I know. Let me go!”

Namjoon released the guys collar, droping the guy to the floor like a rag doll. The guy scurried to his feet, slipping a few times, then ran for it. He made one last comment over his shoulder, “Your crazy man!”

Namjoon stood there in the alleyway in the sickly yellow flood light over him. His dress shoes chuffing the tarmac of the alley. He watches as the demon slips away.

One year, he was supposed to have a year. A Lich’s corpse last a year before decomposition is too much and the animation disapparates. She needed new flesh, soon, and consuming raw meat in the mean time wasn’t going to hold her over much longer. Celina was putting herself out in the open more, her real self. He looked at his reflection in his scythe. Time was running out.

Black smoke cradled around him and he vanished into thin air. He manifested in the entryway and caught the edge of your feet as you were ascending the staircase. “Y/N?”

You stopped mid-step and turned towards him. In a tired voice, “Welcome home Joon.” He noticed the dark circles under your eyes have become heavier. “There’s leftovers in the fridge for you, make sure to heat them up if you’re hungry.”

He nodded, “Are you going to sleep?”

You nodded in return, “I’ve had a long day.”

He felt something crawling up his throat. “You don’t want to watch TV on the couch until you fall asleep? I swear I won’t hog the blanket, I swear.”

A small smile creeped onto your face, “No, not today Joon. Tomorrow maybe, okay?”

He sadly nodded, and you turned around making your way back up the stairs.

Your scent finally registered, he was so used to coming home to a twisted sell of delicate scents, but that daunting smell hit him like a cold shower. He smelled it thickly in the air, in fact it feels like it’s taken over the house, Cemetery dirt, soil tainted by death. Its leaking from you.

His long legs took the stairs two by two and he grabbed onto your upper arm, “What’s wrong y/n?”

You both stood still for a moment, then you turned around gently and thunked your head on his shoulder. He pulled you into his arms wrapping them tightly around your waist, “What’s wrong?”

Honest words hanging on the edge of your tongue, “I’m just tired.”

He didn’t believe you, you smelled otherwise, he’s smelled it from you before. He thought back to the demon’s words: soil. Celina smelled like soil. He tried an alternative, “You sure you don’t want to watch some TV?”

You shook your head wrapping your arms around him, “I just want to sleep.” You squeezed him once then let go, leaving a lasting touch on his arm before you turned around

He called your name as you were halfway up, words hanging on the tip of his tongue but couldn’t actualize. He swallowed it, because honestly, he didn’t know. He didn’t know how much time you had left. How long it was before everything came crashing down. It could be in the next second, or tomorrow. “Good night.”

You whispered back, “Good night, Joon.”

He watched as you disappeared around the corner, your hand being the last glimpse as it held onto the banister. He felt in his gut. Celina was on the move and moving fast. That dirt…you smelled like it. He was extremely worried, but you were being stubborn about letting him in. Just as he was, but only telling you would worry you. He needed to be around more, if the connection between you both was getting stronger he needed to be by your side. The hound he had secretly tagging along with you when you left the house wasn’t enough anymore. You didn’t have to know though, he could be your shadow.

He went to your work to check up on you, he even bought a coffee to leave on your desk secretly. However, you weren’t there, you weren’t even in their system anymore. He grew worried, then angry the longer he looked for you. Your car wasn’t even in the parking lot. He went to the roof and called upon his scythe. He let blackness cloud his eyes as he commanded, “Ostende mihi Y/n”. He sliced through the air creating a portal for himself. He looked into the vortex and saw you in a familiar setting that you didn’t belong in. He watched as your hands stretched out and you were chanting out…incantations! His jaw dropped then clenched hard. You had been going behind his back! He saw blue glowing from your hands and that’s when he dropped your coffee and charged through the portal.

“Wands are training wheels for the hands, as you get more practice you won’t need a conductor for your major and instead you will be able to conjure it from your hands.” She took the wand out of your hand and set it on the table, “Try it, try it with your hands.”

“I-I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Trust me child.” She turned you to the windowsill. “See, focus on that potted plant…now levitate it, this should be easy.”

You breathed in heavily and pointed your hands at it, “Volarsa”

The pot remained still. You tried it again with a different tone, but it didn’t levitate. You turned toward Kaya with a pout, you weren’t sure about this working without a wand. She knocked three times then clasped her hands behind her back, “Be patient, it will work.”

You turned back towards the pot and kept repeating the spell. Hours had passed by and sweat was running down your temple until you taste salt in the corner of your mouth. You wiped it away and licked your lips, you had gotten the pot to vibrate. You were so close. You just needed something, a push, you let your thoughts wander about the people’s life on the line, yours, Kaya’s…and Namjoon’s.

“Volarsa!” You shouted at the pot concentrating on the object. You held up your trembling hands and it vibrated intensely as before, you slowly started lifting your hands from the wrist. The pot oscilated on the spot then finally…it started lifting. You broke a smile and kept your hands strict forcing the pot to rise. It was heavy, heavier than lifting a pot without magic and lifted off he clay pigeon until it was floating in the air. “KAYA! KAYA, I DID IT! I did it!”

A dark cloud of smoke rolled in constructing itself into a shadow, but you were too submerged in your happiness to notice. “Did what exactly Y/n?”

You jumped, hands losing their concentration as you released the spell and the pot came crashing down. You abruptly faced the Reaper, “Namjoon!”

“You lied to me! I told you not to do this.” He stomped right up to you.

You stuttered taking a few steps back, “I-I-I.” You clasped your hand behind your back as if they were the guilty culprits.

“Why are you practicing!”

Kaya came around the corner with an extra mug, “Hello, Darling, its been a while.”

The black smoke rolling around him cut off, his eyes widening, “Kaya?”

She put the mug in his hand, with a flick of her wrist she commanded the broom and dust pan to do their job. “Sit down and watch, well discuss it later; you just ruined something big.”

“She’s practicing witchcra—!”

She whipped around, “I said, sit down.”

He obeyed tucking his tail between his legs but grumbled the whole time. She beckoned you to continue, “Go ahead Y/n, try it again on the Saffron.”

You eyed Namjoon with hesitation, but you turned towards the flowers. You had to prove yourself worthy. This was your chance to show Namjoon you could do this. You had to be the one to put an end to this with Namjoon.

You breathed in a deep breath letting the oxygen saturate your blood fully with a breath laced with confidence. You wiped your brow of sweat and held out your hands, shaking out the nerves a few times, then place them in a commanding stance. You closed your eyes and sprung your hard rimmed eyes open as you casted with confidence, “VOLARSA!”

The Saffron pot jerked about, oscillating in its spot like the last time. You kept focus on it then raised your hands slowly and with a bit of delay the pot raised from the pigeon into the air. You held it there for a moment then lowered it down safely finally taking a breath again. You heaved and turned with a smile on your face and Kaya smiled back at you once she heard the clinking clay.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, “She can lift a pot, so what? How’s that going to protect her from Celina?”

Kaya smiled and sipped from her tea with her eyebrows slightly raised. “You underestimate the important of lifting a pot. Don’t you remember how you started out with your scythe?”

He shut up real quick, turning away from her in his chair like a sulking child. “Child, you’ve done well. You’re ready for the heavier, unspoken spells.”

Namjoon spit out the tea he was bitterly sipping, “Now you’re pushing the importance!”

“Hush, Joon.” She shushed him by bringing her hand up and zipped his mouth shut. He grumbled behind his closed lips. You spat out laughing hard enough your eyes shut; you needed to learn that spell. She stood up and walked her way over to you, looking over her shoulder as she stood next to you, “Someone had to do it.”

The rest of the evening she moved on to different things and taught you other foundational spells and techniques. Namjoon’s mouth was sealed the whole evening, but you could feel the tension from him. He remained patient and watched you as you picked up things easily. He was impressed, but he was afraid. The potential energy and magic that you have in your amateur hands could be dangerous. He was worried…because of whom your source of magic was coming from.

What if you turned out like her?

Kaya tapped your shoulder, “That’s enough for today.”

You sat at the work table with Joon, reluctantly sitting down across from him. His eyes were squared on you with bitterness flowing towards you. Kaya sat down at the table with a steaming kettle pouring more tea into her cup and Namjoon’s, “Float a cup over for yourself.”

You looked across the room and pointed to a clean cup. You muttered under your breath and a cup levitated itself and clunked it onto the table right in front of you.

She unzipped him and as soon as his lips were free he couldn’t hold his tongue anymore, “Kaya! What if—what if she turns out to be like...!”

Kaya turned to him, “Her?”

He spat, “Exactly!”

“After all she’s done, haven’t we’ve been through enough. Y/n doesn’t deserve this.”

You look between them, feeling completely lost. Just how much didn’t you know? How did Namjoon know Kaya? You haven’t really pieced it together until now, why was she in his journal?

He sharply turned his attention to you, “How did you find this place?”

You stuttered out a thinning voice, “I-I.”

“I contacted her, I just felt Celina’s magic again and had to figure out if it was her, but instead I found Y/n.” You were surprised, Kaya stepped in to save you.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, he wasn’t completely buying it. Under her breath barely audible to your ears, “The hound ’s loyal to their mistress not their master apparently.”

He turned to you to question further, but again Kaya stepped in to save you, “Calm down Namjoon, I can tell you that’s not what’s going to happen. I don’t see the same darkness in her that I saw in my sister. That won’t happen with Y/n.”

You blinked in shock, “How do you two know eachother?”

She casually grabbed onto both of your hands, “Revelata veritas occulta, monstrate memoriis vero Princeps.” In the next second you felt an energy surging through you, coursing through your heart then being. Your eyes blurred, swirling in a glowing green like Kaya’s. Namjoon watched on as you closed your eyes grunting, then they sprung open completely glowing blue.

He hissed at Kaya trying to release her hand, “What are you doing!”

Kaya remained patient, holding his hand tight, “Revealing the truth.”

In your ears their argument faded out. Behind your glowing eyes you were taken back, but this time you watched through Namjoon’s eyes.

Namjoon was acquainted with the sisters, as the witch community was tangled with the supernaturals. Everyone in the supernatural community knew of the witch sisters, the greatest witches of their generation. When Namjoon inherited the role of being Reaper, Kaya and Celina were the first ones to congratulate him. He grew close to the sisters, they were like real sisters to him; especially Kaya who helped him wield his scythe and even taught him some spells on the side.

Namjoon’s heart dropped when he received word to collect, to collect Celina’s soul. How had such a good person fallen?

His memory picked up right where Kaya’s had left off with Namjoon arriving in tragic timing. Celina had casted a spell over the house to cover her tracks. When he manifested in the hallway of Kaya’s home and the smoke faded, Kaya was already paralyzed, covering her eyes with her bloody hands. He ran over to her as she muttered out, “Mallory.”

He pulled her hands down from her eyes and gasped when he saw her pearly eyes, “Kaya, what happened?”

Kaya panted, feeling for him, “Namjoon! She—She!”

He heard thumping coming from the hallway. He stood in front of Kaya protectively against whatever was there. A large gangly figure popped out form the shadows wailing, “Mommy!”

Namjoon stood there, fear struck. Kaya screamed, “Celina, what have you done!”

Namjoon knew that the council would be coming soon since Celina had just been here. Kaya grabbed at his pant leg, “Please, Namjoon, protect my son!”

Namjoon didn’t have much choice, so he did the only think he could think of. He took out his scythe and with both hands he wrapped it around the staff and casted. Mallory began to be engulfed in black smoke. His similarly pearl eyes searched out his mother, he tried screaming for his mother, but it just came out as animalistic growls taking over his voice.

Namjoon took him to the only place he knew that would be safe, Limbo. He kept Mallory in a cave with a protective seal to keep anyone from entering, safe from the knowledge of supernaturals and other warlocks. He knew if the council found out what happened to Mallory there would be grave consequences.

He stayed with the child and would visit Kaya routinely. He knew he couldn’t fill the void of her son, but he was there for her like she was for him. He’d do anything for her.

They tried everything, every spell, hex, and art she knew to uplift the curse, but nothing worked. He helped her adjust, however, Kaya adapted quickly on her own.

Kaya persuaded Namjoon to let her see her child. Reluctantly he brought Kaya to see her son. She would hug her son and he would grunt out, no longer capable of speech while hugging his mother. He was still himself despite the curse. When she felt her son she’d began crying, she’d apologize and promised him she’d find a solution to revert him back. She was never going to give up, she worked herself to the bone, researching and testing lifting spells. However, no matter how great of a witch she was, no spell worked, the curse was too heavy. It was impossible to cure the curse.

Months passed by and Mallory began to forget his humanistic ways, slowly started becoming the monster he was cursed to be.  

Against Namjoon’s protest, he brought Kaya to see her son. He had seen the change happen, the growth of the beast, the greedy curse taking over the child’s soul. He couldn’t tell her, he wanted to fix this before she found out.

As they came into the cave, they found Mallory consuming a wandering soul. Kaya heard it all, the disgusting sounds and crunching of bone. Namjoon witness the horrific image of intestines being yanked from the corpse and it being grind it up in the boar’s jaw.

Namjoon panicked, “Kaya, you can’t see him today! Go back!”

She protested, she wanted to meet her son, not believing the sounds were from her precious child. He shouted the truth, “He’s not your son anymore, but a monster!”

Kaya remained silent, the truth weighing heavy on her after she’s been denying it for months, tears streamed down her face as she stood there listening to Namjoon stopping her gorging son—or at least he was.

He hated doing this, but he had to chain him up. He couldn’t let him wander about, it was too dangerous.

Soon enough Satera found out about the souls being consumed. She herself showed up in the cave to expel the behemoth herself. “Reaper, this being belongs in the pits! He is no Earthly creation!”

Namjoon stopped her and explained what had happened, how it was Celina’s evil doing, that there was a human being underneath. Her green glow about her died down and sympathy rang about her. She slowly walked towards the beast—Mallory—who growled in agitation. She hushed him and surprisingly he obeyed. She touched his forehead and her eyes swirled as she watched the whole story unravel in her eyes. She pulled away, sorrowfully petting his head a few times. She gave Namjoon a deal ,”I cannot break this curse, his soul has been nearly completely consumed. But if you can promise me that…that this Edax Animae can collect evil or wandering souls and you’d send the spirits to the pits, then he can remain on Earth.”

Namjoon agreed immediately, “Yes, yes, I can promise that.”

She raised her hand silencing him, “And…only if you watch over him, then he can remain.”

Namjoon told Kaya of the deal for hours she cried, guilt weighing heavy on her, but she was grateful. He could live.

Years went by, decades went by and the chase with Celina continued. Celina grew stronger and her craft immensely more potent. He would visit Kaya less and less because he had to take on other collections. Celina’s disturbances became fewer and she’d always escape his grasp in the nick of time. Before he knew it, he stopped visiting Kaya all together, but he kept his promise. He always watched over Mallory, even if he wasn’t Mallory anymore.

Time speed up from there in blurs, you saw fights, the sickly image of Celina before him in a forest, but with a different possession every other memory. Time swirled again, and it was her again but different each time they fought, but she’d get away.

Then there was you. You across the table from him, as he slid into the booth. You felt the smugness as he felt like had caught the mouse. Time warped to when you were brought to Edax, then all the nights you spent together eating dinner,  you saw the way he watched you as you were watching TV, or how you came in the door after work greeting him with a smile. It was blurs of the both of you, up until this very point, you sitting across from him.  

You gasped as you were pulled back into reality ripping you from the tar of memories. The glowing green began to fade from your eyes as you came to consciousness. You felt your limbs succumbing to a great fatigue as your legs lost control and you began slipping from your chair.

Namjoon let go of Kaya’s hand and caught you before you collapsed to the floor. “Kaya, this is too much for her! I told her she needs to stay out of this!”

You gasped and clutched onto his shirt, “Namjoon, I have to do this.”

He looked down at you, “No!”

You cupped his face smoothing the wrinkles building under his eyes, “Namjoon, I’m not Celina. I’m not her.”

Something you never expected caused your hand to halt. Tears were building in his eyes until a single tear slipped down his cheek, “I can’t lose you.”

You smiled, “You won’t, I promise. She’s not going to win. Trust me.”

He looked at you then to Kaya feeling the pressure from both of you, “Fine.”

Now that you were able to practice freely your skills were only growing at an exponential rate. Especially since you could practice at home out in the open. Crafting just felt so natural to you. You were going through spell books like water. Kaya put you through obstacles testing you on your skills and reflexes. That meant training became far more intense, pushing you to your breaking point every day. She made a pseudo room for you to cast spells and strike dummies.

You paced around the abysmal room, you could never see the walls in the room, you honestly didn’t know if there were any. You stood under a bright white spotlight waiting for your next target, and in front of you Celina manifested. You knew it wasn’t her, but a dummy. It looked so much like her, like the image you saw that night in your bathroom. Even though she was a dummy you knew not to let your discomfort show.

She opened her eyes, completely black and soulless. There was no banter exchanged, a blaze of green light aimed right for you. Two more jets of green light zoomed past you from the arthritic hands of Celina. You spewed hexes and spells back avoiding each of her strikes. This was fake, so it wouldn’t have a lasting strike if it did hit you, but still you avoided each strike.

Carelessly with that knowledge you faced her straight on and called out a spell that would knock her off her feet. She swerved and in the next blink she was in front of you, “You lose.” She brought her hands up and chanted out a curse, one you had passed by Kaya before in curiosity, but she narrowed her eyes completely upset, “Never, never, EVER, utter those words.”

The black eyes of Celina were all you could focus on as she was nearly nose to nose with you. You were paralyzed in fear, none of the other dummies had gotten this close to you. You didn’t dare blink, the next moment the body melted, bubbled and Namjoon was face to face to you. The same eyes remained, he hissed like a snake, “Internum Cuppedine.”

You screamed and for a moment you believed there were walls as you screamed loud enough that it bounced off the invisible walls. Loud, hot blindingly loud. The pain was consuming as you dropped to your knees in front of Namjoon, whole body quivering. He walked around you, a smirk form on his face, “I will watch you die in the most painful way.”

This wasn’t real, this wasn’t supposed to be real, but why was the pain so real. Namjoon would never do this too you. This wasn’t happened. You struggled trying to break, but the more you struggled the more painful it was.

“It will be my uptmost pleasure.” He raised his hand up slowly, body morphing back to Celina’s figure, you levitating with it. You dangled in the air twitching as the curse caused you to spasm. He clenched his hand, you feel the pressure around your throat. It’s so much, so much. With a finally squeeze of her hand everything goes dark.

You wake up gasping for air on the floor of Kaya’s craft room. The roaring fire, the cracking of the wood in the mantle alerting you you’re back in the real world. Was this real? Was that all fake? You lifted up sitting on your side coughing. You grabbed at your throat where you felt the phantom feeling of the grasp. You felt a drop on your hand, you pulled away and a drop of blood was on your hand. You raised it and checked your nose. Your nose was bleeding.

Was that just a dummy?

You didn’t tell Kaya or Joon what had happened in the training room. The crackling fire burning in the mantle casted long shadows over the room, so you relied on the candle next to you to illuminate the words on the book you were reading. Kaya had gone to sleep a while ago, you sat there intently listening for the snores to begin. When you were sure she was asleep you slipped off your stool and ventured over to the library. Stealthily you avoided the creaky wood planks as you tip toed over to a bookcase. You trailed over books that you’ve been eyeing for a while, the forbidden ones. Kaya had warned you against them, you didn’t need to know those spells.

You thought different, the more ignorant you were to this stuff the more vulnerable you were. You needed to know what the animation had said to you.

You pulled out a nameless black book and snuck it back to the table. You pushed away the book you were “studying” and placed the new book in front of you. It felt different, it was a thin book, but it weighed as heavy as a science textbook. You tried opening the book, but it refused to open. Knowing Kaya it must’ve been hexed closed.

You thought back to all the things you had learned, sourcing through all the spells you knew. You were going to try something you didn’t know would work, but you’d try. Holding your hand over the book you whispered out, “Abracadabra.”

Nothing happened, you were expecting something a bit more dramatic. Maybe a puff of smoke or like a comical soul arising, but nothing.

You reached for the cover and it pulled back and it opened. The binding creaking with the new book sound, but you knew this book was far from being young. Gothic text etched in the center entailed “Book of Dreadful Curses.”

Your body felt giddy, you were actually going through with this. You flipped the coffee colored pages that were fragile, each page had entries that were handwritten with depictions every so often. This seemed more like a lab book than a dictionary for curses. The description for these curses were horrible promises of unescapable torture, pain and lunacy. You read over a few: Martyium promised self-sacrifice but not with the will of the cursed; Impotente promised lunacy; Dissolvo promised decomposition. You scrolled through pages, each page more interesting than the last. However, you didn’t dare to repeat aloud, only allowing them to hiss in your mind, you had that much sense.

You opened this book for one specific curse, Internum Cuppedine. You flipped through the pages and soon enough the pages were blank. The journal entries had ended abruptly. You kept flipping though and you nearly scanned past it but on a single page two lone spells were written, but one specific one caught your eye: Internum Cuppedine.

Internum Cuppedine: Level IX, extreme malice and intention to harm. A torture spell that causes sensation similar to burning from the inside out, asphyxiation, violent trembling and loss of physical control. Results from curse causes permanent damage and if continuous, death.

Shuffling came from the door, Kaya groggily asking, “You’re still here child?” You closed the book shut and propped your elbow on it, then with your elbow you brushed it under the other you were studying. Even though she couldn’t see, you still felt like a child caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

“Yeah-yeah, I just wanted to finish up this last chapter then go home.”

A smile bloomed on her face, “You worked hard enough, go home child. You’ll need the rest for tomorrow.

You nodded, “I will.” You began to pack up your stuff edging off the stool, “Good night Kaya.” Her figure disappeared down the hallway as she mumbled to you. You waited until the sound of her closing her door before you set down your bag. You were just going to read a bit more…just a bit more.

Just a bit more.

Namjoon would stop by and pick you up from Kaya’s because he knew if he didn’t come and get you you’d stay all night. Despite things being open, you’ve spent more time a part now that everything was on the table.

Besides throwing up, a new habit crawled its way into your routine. You started having nightmares every night since the dummy incident; Celina would always have the main role. The dreams would be vivid, but it was the same dream every night. You relieved the moment in the training room over and over again. Each night it would escalate, but it was the same environment. Celina’s dark figure would leave you paralyzed as she came towards you. She’d look you dead in the eyes and her lips would spread past her cheeks in a sinister smile. She violently thrusted her hand through your chest and ripped your heart out. She’d laugh and consume your heart like a morsel. She licked her fingers of your blood and with the same dirty hands she pushed you. You’d tip back unable to save yourself and you’d fall down into an endless grave.

Namjoon heard you screaming springing from his own bed and ran into your room. You were trashing under your covers, he sat down next to you shaking you awake, “Y/n! Y/n! Wake up!”

You sprung up violently sucking in air. When you noticed Namjoon was there beside you, you clutched onto him panting. He collected you into his arms holding the back of your head with one of his hands. You buried your head into his chest, he rubbed your back soothing you, “Shhhh, It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He’d lay you back down when your trembling stopped.  “Want me to stay with you until you fall asleep again?”

You nodded rapidly, “Please.”

He scooched you over and laid beside you, his body taking up a large portion of the bed. He pulled you into his chest petting your hair, “It’s okay, I’m here go back to sleep. I won’t leave.” You nodded against his chest, his scent bringing comfort to you. It took about half an hour until you fell back asleep. His naturally low, deep voice sung you to sleep.

To your ignorance he was chanting away the demons, casting a protection spell over your mind for the night. A sleep worm had made its way into your dreams. He held the back of your head as you fell fast asleep. He kept chanting, slowly pulling his hand away from your head and along with it the worm that had plagued your dream. He squished it in his hands and it sizzled in his grip. You sighed in relief when he pulled it out and you eased into his chest limply, truly asleep.

His eyes narrowed as he looked over you and into the shadows of your bedroom. It was your silhouette in the shadows, but it wasn’t you. He could only sigh and hold you close, there was no telling when, but there wasn’t much time left. He fell asleep with you cradled in his arms, he didn’t want to let you go.

In his arms, you were safe.

You didn’t want to fall asleep, it was hard distinguishing the sun and the moon lately. White bled into black and you were somewhere in Limbo. Kaya had gone to sleep long ago; teaching had worn her out despite you doing all the work. Namjoon was here earlier but left when he was summoned. You slipped on his blazer you had brought with you on accident today when a draft came over the room. It partially still smelled like him, mostly because he tried it on again today, “Sure it was an accident Y/n. You like me that much huh?”

You blushed furiously attacking him with the best come back you could think of, “You wish.”

Sitting alone you wrapped it tighter around yourself. You looked around, despite knowing you were alone, and pulled out from under your other book the Book of Dreadful Curses. You hated to admit it but you were drawn towards it. Who were the people that made such craft, and who were they after? You were just so curious.

In your ear you heard a moaning whisper, “Y/N.”

You turned around expecting Kaya in the doorway, but no one was there. Maybe Kaya and Joon were right, you have been overworking yourself to the point you were hearing things. You waited, maybe Kaya would appear a second later, but there was nothing. You went back to flipping the pages and felt a chill down your spine as another barely audible whisper tickled your ear, “Y/N.”

The lights above you flickered, and the omnipresent voice cackled. The hair on the back of your neck raised as the roaring fire in the fireplace suddenly extinguishing. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, it was dead silent. You were waiting, waiting in anticipation.

A struck of lightening jetted passed you striking the pit of embers reigniting the roaring flame, a flame so big that it licked your spine. You screamed at the intense heat and in shimmer of mist a figure before you manifested.

It was Celina.

You stumbled backwards, hitting the wall knocking down picture frames and crystals. One look at her and you could tell why she was here though, the once gorgeous woman was wilting away. Her flesh was rotting away in some spots as ghastly purple and grey chunks were missing; Streaming down her barely fitting dress was mud, you recognized that dress, it was the dress.

Celina trailed around the table with an awkward gait, “I told you you’d know my name when the time comes.” She smirked dropping a potion bottle on the floor and crunching the glass with her bare feet. “It’s our day darling!” The lights flickered manically as she raised her both her hands, fingers stretched outwards with the tips burning red.

A bolt of magic zoomed past your head and hit just near Celina’s head. The lights stabled. You turned, and Kaya was behind you with her hands raised, “Celina!”

Celina stumbled, “Sister, I thought you died a long time ago.”

Kaya scoffed, “You underestimate me.”

Celina huffed, “I won’t miss this time.”

Celina extended her arm and fired bolts towards the both of you. The crackling magic destroyed the shelf behind us and all Kaya’s tea cups fell to the floor. Kaya pushed you behind her and you both managed to fire back at her. Celina sensed the magic before the strikes and dodged them easily. You’ve never seen this before, Kaya was wielding beyond your comprehension. A rally of blue and red bolts soared across the room. You were dragged to hide under a desk along with Kaya, “Child, run, run while you can. I’ll take care of her.”

You shook your head, “No, I’m staying here and fighting with you. This is my battle as much as it is yours.”

“You’re not ready child! Run!” Kaya grunted, red flames roared above us as Celina grew frustrated.

“Come on out Kaya, you’re not a coward to hide. Come and fight me once and for all! Let’s end this!”

You couldn’t let Kaya get hurt, you’ve worked hard for this moment. This was it. “No, I’m ready,” you punctuated. You took the risk and stood up on your own. You raised your hand and fired out a spell at Celina. A charged spell shot out from your hands at her.

She dodged it and laughed, a hearty laugh, “Oh-ho-ho, Look at you my pretty! A witch in the making! Oh, how great it will be when I take over you. A perfect vessel, perfect blood.”

You fell right into her trap and she chanted, then a pulsing neon purple cloud consumed the both of you. Kaya gripped onto your hand, “NO, Y/N!” Her grip on you disappeared and you were consumed in opaque purple. A wave of nausea hit you that you were now familiar with. You came to in a dense fog feeling the cold breath of life resurge through you again. You knew this place, you knew it very well—Limbo, the edge of hell, where Namjoon first took you.

You whispered out his name out of habit, “Namjoon.”

“It’s just you and I,” the sick cackling echoed throughout the clearing. The silhouetted figures stopped their roaming as if Satan had called upon them and ran from the site. Celina’s red glow fired up and shot towards you, “Mine!”

You lifted your hands and chanted dangerous spells under your breath trying to keep up with her razor-sharp fast attacks. Her body may be decaying but her mind was sharp. It was hard to tell where the next strike would come from because of the fog. You ran behind a tree catching your breath, as quietly as you could you knocked on the tree three times. You could hear her footsteps approaching and on instincts you bolted from your safety. The next second the tree you were hiding behind cracked in half catching fire.

You ran out into the clearing and fired green jets at her with no sense of direction. She whirled around and flicked her wrist manically as she growled.

In the center of us a cloud of black smoke manifested and from it emerged Kaya and Namjoon. Kaya put up a protective shield around the both of them and ultimately you. Celina’s bolt crashed against the shield like tsunami wave crashing on a boulder.

Kaya turned her hands like a wheel and used that energy and shouted, “Praesidio!” The magical wave reversed itself and turned it back on the caster.

Namjoon sprinted towards you, “Y/n!” You ran up to him wrapping your arms tightly around him, you just needed that moment. You broke the embrace when Celina roared, and fireworks flared between Celina and Kaya.

Celina protected herself from the returning wave by casting her own shield.  She grew frustrated, “SURGERIMUS!” From the ground hands popped up like daisies, soon enough skulls and fifty some full bodies rose. Their bodies were devoid of skin with insects who’ve burrowed themselves in cavities. It was an uproar as the swarming corpses stampeded their way towards us with loud war cries. The three of you equally regarded them charging forward into the mess. In a single swipe you shattered the center of a corpse with its limbs exploding towards all directions. Namjoon moved his scythe about with brutal strength, twirling past extended jaws lunging to bite severing heads off cleanly. Kaya strikes with palm open knocking down two at a time.

She turned around confronted with Celina no less than a few feet away, “Hello Sister.”

Celina growled firing spells, cold hatred behind each venomous strike. She was sending incantations, smiting with all she had. Kaya used her instincts to her advantage, a century of development with her impairment. She swayed and slashed her magic as jets of light flew from both of them. From under them the fog diminished seeing the forest floor for the first time. The ground below them shimmering as dangerous spells fireworked around their feet. The two witches were battling for blood, for the kill.

“Oh, Kaya you can’t protect her, just like you couldn’t protect your son.”

“DON’T SPEAK OF HIM THAT WAY!” Soaring bolts still progress back and forth like a tennis rally. “You will never touch my children again!” screamed Kaya.

A side of Celina’s lips raised, “Think again.”

It happened so fast. Suddenly Kaya was lifted off the floor floating in the air, an invisible force wrapping around her neck and squeezing tight. “It’s ironic, the one who wrote the Book of Dreadful Curses is going to experience it firsthand.” Kaya’s eyes bulged as Celina’s cursed the worst forbidden curse, “Silento.” The curse wrapped around Kaya and in one movement Kaya’s neck jerked abstractly.

"Kaya…Kaya...," you stupidly repeated watching as her body falls to the ground in a single thud. You felt something in you falling, something you'd never get back. Three corpses try suffocating you, but you scream out a smite that sends the three of them soring.

Namjoon takes advantage of the opening and charges at Celina, his anger taking over his actions. He dug the stem of his scythe into the ground and used it to lunge across corpses to land in front of her. He growls as he raises from his squat, “HOW COULD YOU!”  

You slaughter any corpses in your path as you walk like Moses as your hands work without turning away from Kaya. Bones, flesh and fluids coat you and fly in front of you but you pay it no attention. You yell out, “Praesido,” casting a shield over the both of you as you fall to your knees next to her. You pick her up carefully, you don’t want to hurt her any further. You scoot her up onto your lap, you touch her face and caress trying something, “Kaya, come back, you can’t, you can’t leave me.” You continue to caress her head, “NO, NO, NO, NO!”

She was gone.

Namjoon charged towards Celina, efficiently cutting her magic as it deflected off his scythe. He readied himself and charged at her again and again no resting between his blows. Crossing of blue hell flame from the scythe and crimson magic from Celina collided illuminations. They collided her magnificent jets holding back Namjoon’s scythe, their flames blending at the collision point a vibrant violet. They were matched in power, but there was no love in war.

Namjoon screamed, “I will collect you Celina!”

Celina cackled, “Never!”

Her power surged causing an explosion between them, Namjoon was sent flying from the impact and he crashed against a tree with a thud. From the ground hundreds of hands began clawing around him. He screamed reaching his hand out of the mound that gathered around him. They buried him underneath the soil.

“NAMJOON!” From your protective shield as you held Kaya in your arms, you screamed until your throat was raw. You crouched over Kaya body tears streaming down your face, you wiped away the tears as Celina staggered towards you. Her body was falling apart as her hourglass was running out. She needed to change, she needed a new body, she needed you.

You don’t know where this strength stemmed from, but you raised from the ground. “I’m sorry Kaya.” You weren’t the same Y/n you were when you first encountered Celina. You were going to use everything of hers against her. Hands buzzed on their own accord, like some magnet, a burning emerald fire crackled on your hands. You had summoned a raging strength from deep within you. Your hands lit up and the flames of magical ombre emerald washed up to your elbows. You marched without breaking pace through your protective shield as if it was invisible. Wind swirled around you your hair whipping around you and Namjoon’s blazer rustling about.

This cycle had to stop.

Chaos ensued moments later, bolts of energy cut through the dense fog. “CELINA!” You mow through the animations who came rushing at you.

Celina shouted, “I shall have your life!”

Your power pulsed through you, it was like a second skin guiding you in the chaos.  You stomped your foot into the dense soil concentrating magic in your foot to shower her in dust. You took the opening chance to get closer to her and attack close range. You strike her chest hearing a crack then grabbed onto her arm. When you touch all the sudden both your eyes glow green. The both of you stop, the animations stop as well, eyes glowing green.

Blurs of her life past before your eyes, as you watched her and Kaya as children running through their childhood home, the same one Kaya took residence in. You watched Kaya protect Celina from bullies, but from that Celina grew furious, ‘I can protect myself’

As a teenager she pushed Kaya away. She watched her Sister being doted on by her parents, by her peers, praised by anyone and everyone. There she was, alone. You watch as she sneaks into her sister’s room and steals a black leather book, the Book of Dreadful Curses. She flipped through the book it was only full of small spells at the time. A dreadful smirk curves on Celina’s face, she had dirt on her sister. She confronted their parents about Kaya’s book, feeling finally she had dirt on her perfect sister. Yet, they didn’t believe it was Kaya’s at all, but Celina’s book. Celina’s felt betrayed and resented her sister as Kaya let Celina take all the blame.

The memory whirl pooled jumping in time where Celina was a young adult. She was in the forest with a man double her age. The man she seduced was ignorant to her eyes open as they kiss. She took a knife and stabbed the man. She placed him in a circle and chanted, wicking up candles as she performed. The man rose like nothing had happened, but his eyes are completely black. She panicked, panicked because she never thought she could do it. She murders the man once more and buries him somewhere. The cycle continues with different men and women. She writes more in the book who was mistakenly hers, she develops the curses as she practices them.

You watch as she’s brought before the Hecate council, on her knees. They found out she was performing curses and had murdered a mortal. They were punishing her when she erupted, filling the room with black smoke and escaped. She ran off to the only place she knew, home. She ran into the house, up the stairs and into the kitchen where her sister was sipping tea. “Kaya, they’re coming for me! We have to leave! They’re coming for me.”

Kaya doesn’t handle the news well. Celina does the only thing she knows, she lifted her arms and recites something from the book she created.

She regrets it as soon as it happens trying to undo the curse, but there’s no turning back. She leaves the book and disappears. Leaving all trace of her family and her older self behind.

Celina lives everywhere and anywhere sucking the life out of others, the longer she spent practicing the Dark Arts the harder she fell.

The undead aspect of it began to consume her as you watched as she looked in the mirror and she was but a skeleton. She was wearing that dress, the dress, as she woke from a new reanimation. You watch her crawl out of the soil and walk through a forest. She cracks her neck and smirks.

You knew what happened from there…you were next.

 The bond was broken and the corpses collapsed to the floor with nothing left in them. You don’t let a second blip by and you were acting.

Celina growled out, shock flitting across her face, “WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?”

You chanted out something you promised you would never use, but rules are meant to be broken. You roared out a curse, “ABSCINDERE!” Your hand glowed a violent light and for a moment you felt light headed and a blinding light surged from your hand. A guttural scream followed and Celina stumbled backwards. Her arm severed off where your hand was on her upper arm. Your eyes bulged, you didn’t think that would work. You were panting hard, you felt a surging pain in your own arm where you had taken hers. You wanted to scream in pain, but you held it back.

She screamed at you, “YOU BITCH!!”

“Kaya will always be better than you, a better Witch!” Your winced in a moment of weakness, your arm really hurt.

“She was weak, she believed in love and all that other bullshit. Just like you, and that makes you weak.” The remnants of the dress on her body taunted you as well. Spitting in your face for your foolish choice, but you weren’t going to grasp at those threads. You were going to weave your own thread, not a resurgent’s.

“Do you not understand? Do you truly not understand what you’ve done? She never wrote that book for what you did with it, it was meant to lock them away forever.” You sucked in a deep breath, “DO YOU HAVE NO REMORSE KILLING KAYA!”

You tried looking for the tremble or shift in her eyes, but there was none. She truly meant it. “You defend her still when she’s already dead. No, I do not, I’d do it all over again.”

The threads were weaved and she was wrapped in her sin.

Celina grew impatient with the banter, “Kaya is dead, and so will you be!”

At the same time you both muttered out a spell meeting in the center between the both of you with an explosive reaction. You kept your hand stretched out strong just like hers as you both projected towards one another. You were in a gridlock as the spell in the center of you swirled about fiery red mixing with emerald.

You didn’t expect it, but hands popped up form the soil and grabbed at your ankles dragging you down. It was a cheap shot. The hands clasped around you, beginning to bury your feet causing you to lose your balance. Her spell hit you with full force, but the hands kept you grounded. You screamed as it burned and fell to your knees.

You struggled to raise yourself, something hot and dense dripping off your jaw cascading down the side of your face.

Celina began murmuring words that sounded like a thousand words whispering in your ears. You covered your ears trying to cancel them out but they only got louder. Fear surged through you as you began to feel weaker and weaker. The murmurs began to register in your mind, “Internum Cuppedine.”

She had control of your being. You felt a shift in the flow of your blood going against the gradient. She laughed manically contorting her hand stiffly, “Your blood is my blood sweetie. I’m going to claim what is mine now.”

She picked up her severed arm and you horrifically watched as it began to mend itself back to her torso. She kept whispering out her curse and she held out her hand and a knife conjured. The gunmetal blade was raised in the air and black flames began to engulf the blade. She clenched her hand around the blade and swiftly cut her palm covering it in her own thick blood.

“You are mine!” She flicked her wrist and your back bent backwards displaying your chest openly. You stared at the moonless sky, grey clouding your vision. You couldn’t do anything. She picked up speed, branches cracking under her feet as she broke out into a sloppy run. You could only watch as she ran it through your chest with ease. Her cursed knife’s black flames met the soft flesh of your chest with a quick squelch and cracking  your ribs with ease. You screamed, but it quickly was muffled as you gurgled on your own blood. You shakily grabbed over her hands looking Celina directly in the eyes. She kept pushing the knife deeper into your chest and you agonized a roar. She let go of the handle only to take some blood streaming down your neck into her palm. You were convulsing, trembling while your hands still held onto the knife. Breathing was difficult as thick rivets of blood was flowing down your chest.

“Just in time, a minute before midnight.” She laughed raising her hands up to the sky, “I will rise again!” She then brought it to her lips to drink.

Namjoon emerged from the dense fog, strong clanking of chains and growling announcing his ominous arrival. He held the leash of Edax Animae and his scythe in his other, face partially covered in blood with completely black eyes. The hounds formed a V formation around him, black smoke still leaving his mouth as hell still leaks from him. “You think the Reaper would die that easily? I never make mistakes.” Edax staggered, then caught Celina’s scent and tugged on the chains. Namjoon raised the leash and whipped them letting go of them on his down swing, “Sick her boys.”

Celina didn’t get a chance drink as Edax Animae hunched down and ran towards her like an animal growling and roaring. The hounds ran behind Edax snarling and barking ferociously. With an open Jaw he pierced her with his tusk and scooped her body into his jaw like a Venus fly trap. Haunting screams followed gurgling sounds as Edax feasted. Celina’s hand fell limp as it hung out of Edax jaw. Celina was dead and because of her own curse.

A black sludge trudged like a slug away from the corpse. Namjoon brought his scythe up and chopped down on it multiple times, splatters of black ink hitting his face. The sludge evaporated, never to be dealt with again. Celina was collected.

Edax began coughing, his body hacking up the stolen body Celina had used. He roared shaking his head around violently and slowly his body began to transform. His flesh rippling, features bubbling, fur receding and tusk collapsing to the floor off his face.

“Edax!”

The being shrunk reducing itself back into a small boy covering in mud and blood. The boy panted as he collapsed to his knee fainting from the shift. Namjoon picked him up in his arms and the boy still had a pulse, “Mallory!”

His attention turned when he heard a gurgling. His eyes widened impossibly, and he clutched the boy tighter to his chest. He stood up with Mallory in his arms calling out your name, “Y/N! Where aRE YOU? ANSWER ME!”

Namjoon searched within the fog and found you kneeling on the floor not far from Kaya. “Y/N!” He gently set down Mallory to inspect you, hands not sure were to fall as he looked at you horrified. Your hands were still wrapped around the knife. “Y/N! NO, no, no! Oh my god, I’m so sorry I took so long. I’m so sorry!”

Your vision was going blurry, you weren’t sure how much longer you had, but you wanted to stay at least to see Namjoon. You needed to know he was okay. You let go of the handle and winced, but you reached out for his hand and brought it to your cheek. You nuzzled against it. You smiled against all the pain, you could do that at least. You watched Namjoon’s panicked face turn blotchy and fade out meshing with the grey background. Your body slacked, head lulling to the side your eyes fell succumbing to the drowsiness.

Namjoon grabbed at your face screaming loud enough to shake the pits, “Y/N!” He tried shaking you awake, but your body swung limply about. He felt for a pulse in your neck with his fingers, but there wasn’t a response. He brought you into his chest caressing your head to his chest rocking back and forth.

It was midnight, and the debt had been paid, but there was always a price.

A green glow filtered in through the dense fog overcoming the four of you. Namjoon lifted his hanging head as a delicate hand pushed his hair back. He wiped his head up, tears dripping down his face.

Satera’s gentle smile greeted him, “Let me see her Reaper.”

He held you tighter to his chest, “Please, don’t—don’t take her.”

She continued to smile and crouched down in front of the both of you. Her grand white dress billowing about her. She reached out and grabbed onto the handle of the knife, “I cannot give her life back, but I can give her something more.”

Namjoon looked up surprised, “What?”

“She is a Duximina. Her fate changed when she died in your uniform. Do you not remember your soul is within it Reaper? Your thread changed her fate.”

He watched as the black knife burned in her hands as she ripped it out of your chest. Your chest levitated up with the tugging and fell back into his chest. Satera cupped her hands muttering under her breathe and her hands began to glow green. She carefully opened them revealing a glowing green ball. Satera kissed it then placed it in your chest. The energy melted into your chest, the injury sealing itself, there was a silent pause. Namjoon stared at your face watching in amazement as the purple around your eyes began to fade and color began to seep back in. You suddenly opened your eyes, nearly bugging out form your skull as your back arched as you deeply inhaled. Namjoon quickly sat you up as you began coughing up the remaining blood that was left in your throat. You inspected your hands, “Wha—how?”

Namjoon brought you into his chest smothering you, “You’re alive, you’re alive.”

Satera tsked, “You’re alive my dear, but not quite.”

You turned towards the mythical being, recognizing her from the multitude of text, “S-Satera?”

She smiled happy you knew of her, “Welcome to the world Duximina,” gently taking your hand, “fulfill your destiny.”

She stood up and walked over to Kaya, “I’m so sorry dear. You’ve done well, now you may watch over them from some place else.” She looked towards Mallory, who was still unconscious then back to Kaya, “He will be well protected, don’t you worry.” She placed her hand over Kaya’s forehead and the both of them disappeared into shimmering dust.

Tears streamed down your faces, as you watched them disappear. Namjoon checked on you, “You’re alive.” That was all he could get out.

You smiled back at him, cupping his stained cheek, “We did it?”

He nodded, stray tears making their way down his face. He slowly raised up, helping you stand as well, “Stay there, don’t move.”

He walked over to Mallory and scooped the boy into his arms and went back to you wrapping your hand in his, “Let’s go home.”

The three of you vanished in a cloud of black smoke.

Your pumps clicked on the wooden flooring. It echoed throughout the empty café. You spotted the booth and you gracefully scooted in. You adjusted his blazer and crossed your legs under the table haughtily, then tossed your arm behind the seat. You looked Namjoon dead in the eyes with a brow raised, “I’ve come to collect.”

He chuckled and copied your gesture tauntingly, “Witch Reaper.”

You both laughed and he leaned over the table and took your chin bringing your lips to his, “Collected.”

You leaned right and did the same to the boy swinging his feet under the booth, too distracted with his collaring page leaving a kiss on his forehead. “ Missed you Mallory.” He grunted in acknowledgement, but you knew that was a lot from the kid.

You felt your chest tingling where your medal was, another call was coming in. You groaned, “I just got here.”

He laughed, but it was cut short when he felt the same sensation, “Guess I gotta go too.”

He reached across the table and kissed you again, “We’re still on for dinner and Family Feud later?”

You lifted your brow, “Always.”

Namjoon picked up Mallory moving him onto his lap, “ We gotta go Kiddo.” In the next second the three of you vanished in your own clouds of black smoke, a half-colored page with discarded broken crayons and the white steam from the abandoned coffee still swirled.

Collected.

Copyright 2018 © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved.

#bts #kpop #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts magic au #bts fantasy au #bts supernatural au #bts grim reaper au #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts horror #bts namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon scenarios #namjoon imagines #namjoon oneshot #bts enemies to lovers au #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic

[artificialqueens]

Just the Game We’re In - Chapter 12 (Ortega

a/n: I have honestly no idea how to start this off, and I’m aware I’m not accepting a fucking Oscar, so I’ll try to keep this as short as possible. Back in the summer of 2016, there was a crossover fic challenge posted to this blog. I was in the process of finishing MasP and, as someone who fucking loved The Thick Of It and knew how well Bianca would fit as Malcolm Tucker, I posted chapter 1 of what started as a lighthearted, funny Politics AU, Just the Game We’re In. Fast forward nearly three fucking years, me graduating from uni and getting a job, countless long-ass fuckin update gaps and 179,065 words later, this is the final chapter, and I have no idea what the fuck I’m going to do with my life now!! I know I’m not the first person to ever finish a fic in this blog’s history, i ain’t special sis, but I really do want to say thank you thank you thank you to anyone who has ever given any chapter of this a note, reblogged it with something lovely, made fucking fanart or a moodboard (still in awe at that), has read any part of it, or has simply been a friend I’ve made through the writing process. It would be criminal not to specially mention @purecamp- she has without a doubt been Game’s biggest cheerleader throughout it all and legit I may not have even finished this if it wasn’t for her. She is a fantastic person and an amazing friend. I’ll sound like a wet wipe, but Game has legit changed my life. When I was little my dream was to be an author and I loved writing stories. I had never expected my writing to get much of a response when I joined AQ but I can safely say that this blog has been so so amazing and has really allowed me to live my childhood dream of writing a story that people actually wanted to read (this is the definition of cheesy). I’ll shut up now, but here she is everyone. As always lmk what u think over at artificialortega, I tried so hard to make it the most absolutely perfect ending. Chapter 12 of Game, the final chapter. It has been some fuckin wild ride. Xxxxxxxxx

(p.s. phi phi ur a babe im sorry i made u the opposition in this fic and i know u don’t have shitty opinions like game phi phi)

The street was silent. Time had seemed to freeze completely, and even the sound of the car speeding away seemed to be on mute. Perhaps it was just the overwhelming ringing in Willam’s ears that drowned everything else out, which sounded eerily akin to a flatline.

Willam could only blink and feel her heartbeat through her chest, cruelly taunting her and reminding her that Sharon, lying on the concrete, might not have had that privilege. Was she moving? Was she bleeding? Was she alive?

It felt as if Willam stood there frozen for minutes but it was probably only seconds, as all at once she felt herself walking forward, two slow steps and then breaking out into a sprint where she skidded to a halt beside Sharon’s body.

Fuck, no, not her body, Willam thought. Beside Sharon. Sharon, the living human being.

“Sharon,” Willam felt her voice come out as nothing more than a hoarse, panic-induced whisper. She looked at the woman in front of her. Willam was relieved to find that there weren’t any horrific, horror-movie style streams of blood pissing out of her. Suddenly she remembered the phrase she’d gleaned from many hours of her Mum watching Casualty, “internal bleeding”, and her heart grew cold. There were some huge scratches on her head which were already taking on the greenish hue of a bruise underneath, and the friction of her body on the tarmac had ripped open the light Summer jacket Sharon had been wearing and opened a deep gash on the arm which sat ugly and unmoving, a stagnant red against her pale skin.

Her leg was bent at a gruesomely impossible angle.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Willam hissed, shock pulsing through her like a thousand volts as she grabbed her phone from her jacket pocket and grew frustrated as it clung to the material and wouldn’t seem to budge. After some fierce tugs it finally emerged. Willam fumbled with her passcode two times then succeeded in opening her phone, and with shaky fingers she dialled 4 9s, deleted one, and hit the call button.

It rang once, then twice, then again. The ringing continued. Willam’s panic increased tenfold. How often do you need to phone 999 in your life, and when you finally do they don’t fucking pick up the phone?

Finally, the voice of the operator came down the line.

“999, which service do you require?”

“Ambulance, please,” Willam breathed out, the scared tone in her voice and the small, polite plea at the end making her feel as if she was about 5 years old.

“And the address please?”

Willam looked around, panic consuming her every movement and rendering her unable to see clearly. “We’re outside the Crown and Anchor in Chiswick, I don’t know the road name, um-”

“Can you see any road signs at all?”

Willam found her gaze focussing on a street sign a little further along the road. “Um. Belmont Road, I think? I’m sorry, I can’t-”

“Don’t worry, love, we’ve got it,” the voice replied soothingly, making Willam feel more like a child than ever. “And can you describe what’s happened at all?”

“My friend,” Willam began, then was suddenly cut off by a sob that unexpectedly welled up and burst in her throat, causing two tears to spring from her eyes. “She’s been hit by a car, it just came along from nowhere and it didn’t stop, she rolled right over it.”

“Your friend’s been hit by a car? Okay, my love. And you’re saying the car didn’t brake?”

“No,” Willam gasped, her breathing becoming more and more erratic as she sobbed. Fuck, where had all this crying come from?

“Was the car moving quickly?”

Willam frowned. It had been so long since she’d driven it was hard to give an estimate. “It seemed to be going pretty fast but I couldn’t say how much, sorry.”

There was a short pause. Willam looked at Sharon lying below her, then in panic around her as she realised she was still on the road. “I’m not being rude but is the ambulance coming?”

“Don’t worry, love, I know it can be hard when you’re waiting for someone to arrive. The ambulance has been dispatched, don’t panic. Keep talking to me. Is your friend conscious?”

Willam instantly turned to Sharon. “Sharon?” she shook her shoulder, lifted up an eyelid. “Sharon? Fuck, I don’t think so.”

“Don’t think so. Okay. Is she breathing?”

Willam knelt close to her chest and rested her hand on her heart. She felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest and wanted to cry with relief.  “Yes.”

“Still breathing, okay. And you said the patient’s name was Sharon?”

“Yeah, Sharon Needles,” Willam stuttered, momentarily worried about the headlines then cursing herself for the priorities she automatically had.

“Is she bleeding?” the call carrier continued, seemingly not the least bit fazed by the famous invalid.

“She’s got a massive big cut on her arm, but nothing else major. Um…some scratches here and there? I don’t know what’ll need stitches or not…fuck, fuck,” Willam breathed, the seriousness and reality of the situation hitting her all over again. “We’re still on the road, should I move her?”

“No, don’t move her, love. There could be broken bones which might be made worse if you do.”

Willam sighed, taking Sharon’s hand absent-mindedly. The small gesture almost broke her heart and reminded her of how things used to be. Maybe everything would be different if she’d never accepted Sharon’s offer of drinks, this may never have happened. She sighed in exasperation as she suppressed another sob. “Is the ambulance nearby?”

“I’m sorry love, it’s on its way. I know the questions can be annoying but everything we get we pass on to the paramedics-”

“She’s my friend,” Willam said softly, bringing her other hand up to stroke Sharon’s cheek.

“I know, love, we’re doing all we can at this end. Can you describe your friend for me? Age, gender, nationailty?”

The questions seemed to go round in a circle. They were endless, and Willam could feel herself growing more and more irate as the minutes seemed to tick by. Finally, after what seemed like hours, an ambulance slowly drew to a halt on the opposite side of the road to Willam. She immediately hung up on the operator and sprinted to the paramedics who were on their way over to Sharon.

“Hello there!” one greeted her, as natural and cheerful as if she’d just asked him about the weather. “Right, so this is our patient over here. What’s her name?“

Everything passed on to the paramedics my ass, Willam cursed under her breath, then spoke. “It’s Sharon. She was hit by a car.”

“Hello, Sharon, love!” the other paramedic greeted her, lifting her eyelids and shining a small torch into them. “Can you hear us, Sharon?”

Willam wanted to hiss at them that they’d get more conversation out of Helen Keller but she remembered that she wasn’t in Dosac any more, she wasn’t at work, she was lying on a road with her friend crumpled in a heap and no matter how incompetent these people seemed, they were there to help her.

“No response. Okay, grab the gurney.”

What followed this may as well have been another language as the two paramedics spoke in terrifying terminology about IV drips, lacerations and bone fractures. The man brought out a huge metal trolley that Sharon was lifted up onto after some form of yellow styrofoam-looking cast was placed around her mangled leg and another one was placed around her head. As she was carried into the ambulance, Willam, who had been silent for some time save for answering the paramedic’s questions, spoke up.

“Can I, um. Can I come with you in the ambulance?”

‘Of course you can, darling,” the female paramedic smiled at her. Willam momentarily wondered why NHS staff seemed to speak solely in pet names. “What’s your name, love?”

“Willam.”

“Willam, okay. And you are Sharon’s…?”

Willam paused for a beat. “I’m her best friend.”

“Bestie, aw that’s nice. So you were out for some drinks when this happened then, yeah? Girls night out?”

“Something like that,” Willam sighed, climbing the steps up to the back of the ambulance then sitting in the small chair at the end of the vehicle and putting her seatbelt on. Sharon sat in the silver trolley opposite her already hooked up to various machines. Symbols and numbers flashed on a small screen, none of which Willam could tell was good or bad.

“Okay, seatbelt on,” the woman instructed her, sitting down in her own seat herself. “We’ll be at the hospital in no time. Once we’re there, we’ll-”

Willam barely heard her as her mind began to drift away, and all she could focus on were the sirens attached to the ambulance that seemed so far away. That all-too-familiar sound that she recognised from streets and junctions was her and Sharon, the pair of them racing through central London in an ambulance.

Soon enough they arrived at the hospital, and Sharon was being wheeled out of the ambulance, down a ramp and straight into the building. Willam followed awkwardly behind, past people in wheelchairs and others in beds hooked up to various beeping machines and parked, or perhaps abandoned, in corridors. The male paramedic turned to her suddenly as Sharon was wheeled behind a curtain.

“I’m sorry- she can’t have anyone with her at the moment.”

Willam frowned, helpless. “But-”

“She’s in good hands, I promise,” he smiled at her, his gentle eyes reminding her of a long-dead Grandpa she had loved dearly and making her want to cry all over again. His face turned conspiratorial as his eyes shifted around. “Look you shouldn’t really, but if you go to that desk over there you’ll get taken to a relative’s room. It’s not much but it’ll be a quiet room with a kettle and a sofa and a phone and it’ll be a hell of a lot better than sitting stressed in the waiting room.”

Willam gazed over at the desk in question, opposite which were hordes of people waiting to be seen- some looked fine, some had huge wads of kitchen roll wrapped around cuts, there were a couple of drunk men singing football chants and a child with a toy stuck to their foot. Definitely not ideal company.

“Thanks,” Willam summoned up a smile to return to the man.

“That’s alright. I know you must have had a stressful evening,” he said sincerely, frowning.

Willam nodded to him. “It’s appreciated, um…”

“Mattheiu,” the paramedic smiled, holding out a hand for her to shake. She took it gently, thanked him for perhaps the third time, and made her way to the desk where she answered a few questions in a daze and then got shown to a small room, just as Matthieu had described- small, windowless, with dim lights and a single sofa and a little tray with a kettle, teabags, coffee and a pot of milk. There was a landline phone too, and Willam wanted to laugh at it before she checked her phone and realised she had no signal.

She sat on the sofa and took one deep, shuddery breath. What would happen now? Should she have phoned the police too? Willam hadn’t known what to do, but at least Sharon was being taken care of now. She hoped to God she would be okay. Willam thought hard. What had the car looked like? Silver. Or was it black? Fuck, she couldn’t remember. Number plate? Willam was fucked if she knew. This was terrible. If the police did arrive she would be about as much use as a bottle of Becks at an AA meeting. Something inside Willam questioned whether the whole thing had been an accident. It was easily enough explained- or what if it had been planned? Anyone who ran someone over would have stopped and got out and checked to see if the person was okay, surely? Maybe it was someone who felt too guilty to stop, who was too terrified in case they got convicted- or maybe it was somebody who was satisfied they’d completed what they’d set out to do. What if they’d charged the wrong person for the death threats? What if they had still been at large the whole time?

Willam sighed. Her head was too full, and it was killing her not being able to talk the situation out with anybody. Suddenly, it struck her that people would need to know what had happened. Two people in particular, Willam thought- one in particular that probably hated her but who would come into the hospital to sit with her, and to be with her. After all, she still cared about Willam, she had said so herself. The second was worse, but she still needed to be here. Willam knew she would immediately come in, no matter how bad things had been between her and the woman currently lying on a hospital trolley. She needed to know before it got into the press, and Willam had horrific visions of one of them finding out from a BBC News 24 notification.

Her professional brain urged her to phone Bianca first, and Willam growled at it angrily as she picked up the landline, looked in her contacts, and dialled the number of the first woman in question. She could have been apprehensive or afraid, but not right now. Right now she was afraid of something much worse, and it wasn’t on the other end of the phone.

Courtney picked up after four rings. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s me,” Willam began, her stomach sinking at having to do this over the phone.

“Willam…it’s two in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you’d still be awake.”

Courtney’s voice wasn’t harsh or reprimanding as Willam had expected. It was as if she knew that something was up. Sure enough, the Australian accent came down the line again. “Willam, what’s happened?”

Willam felt her blood run cold. She didn’t want to have to bear the news. “Sharon’s in hospital.”

“Oh fuck.”

“She was run over by a car,” Willam said, completely unsure of where the conversation went from here.

“Oh Jesus. Is she okay? Fuck, sorry, what a stupid question,” Courtney’s voice was apologetic, and Willam could hear commotion on the other end of the line, and snuffling.

“Courtney, don’t be upset. It’s okay, it’ll be alright,” Willam found herself comforting the girl on the end of the phone, annoyed that there wasn’t much else she could do.

“Are you at the hospital now? Can I come in?” Willam could hear Courtney struggling with something down the line, perhaps a coat or a pair of shoes.

“Yeah, please. We’re at Charing Cross Hospital. Phone me when you’re outside- no, shit, I’ve got no reception. Just tell me how long you’ll be and I’ll go and wait at the main entrance for you.”

Courtney gave a small, helpless sigh. “Fuck, I don’t know, I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for a taxi at this time of night.”

“Courtney, you live in London,” Willam said, unable to help herself as she snorted a small giggle.

“Fuck. Right,” Courtney matched her laughter, which quickly turned into a sob. “Fuck. Um, half an hour?”

“Okay. See you then,” Willam sighed, her heart hurting at Courtney’s panic. “Courtney, it’ll be okay. Don’t worry. She’s safe now.”

“Right,” Courtney replied with a sniff, which didn’t inspire any confidence in Willam. “See you then.”

With that, Courtney was gone. Willam deflated on the sofa, letting out what seemed to be all the air in her lungs.

That had been hard enough. Now for the phone call she really didn’t want to have to make.

***

Willam had decided to wait at the entrance a little earlier than she said she’d be, just in case Courtney was early too. Part of her was anxious about leaving the relatives room, in case somebody arrived with news about Sharon, but she’d said she would meet Courtney at the door. As she stood in the chilly night air, she watched as cars and taxis pulled up and people came and went, the hospital just as busy as it probably was during the daytime. Health didn’t sleep or take a rest, thought Willam, and she supposed anything could happen to anyone at any time. Life was scary, she pondered, and mortality was so fragile.

As she was wondering, she was suddenly distracted by a sudden, harsh pounding of footsteps on the pavement, and somebody sobbing. Willam looked up and saw Alaska running from a taxi and straight towards her. If it had been any other situation, Willam would have laughed- Alaska was wearing trainers on her feet paired with huge fluffy bedsocks, her outfit consisted of Winnie The Pooh pyjama bottoms and a huge, baggy hoodie, probably pulled on over her pyjama top. A huge parka topped off the look, and Alaska’s face was red and blotchy with puffy eyes which had tears streaming from them.

As Alaska finally reached Willam, she flung her arms around her in a hug and the girl’s body was racked with sobs. Willam sighed, muttering soft, calming words and rubbing Alaska’s back in circles. It had been a horrendous phone call even though it hadn’t lasted long- Alaska, just like Courtney, sensed something had been up, even to the extent that she’d known something had happened to Sharon. She had immediately broken down in tears, but Willam had hardly had time to say anything comforting to her before she was gone, presumably to phone a taxi.

“Is she okay?” Alaska squeaked out in between shudders and sobs. Willam gave her a squeeze.

“She’s in good hands. They’ve not given me an update but I think she’ll be okay. She was still breathing when I was with her so that’s a good sign.”

Alaska broke away from the hug slightly, horror on her face. “Oh my God, you were there? What happened?”

Willam sighed, not wanting to relive it all. “We had been for a drink and we were literally just saying goodbye. Sharon was crossing the road and we were mucking about, she was sort of walking across it really slowly. She stopped and paused in the middle of it and then the car just came at her.”

“She stopped in the road?” Alaska whispered. Willam could see her mind was going at around a thousand miles an hour.

“Alaska, it was 1am. The streets were dead.”

“But surely you could hear the car coming? Fuck, Willam, why didn’t you stop her or push her out of the way or something?” Alaska said, growing frustrated. Then, seeing Willam’s hackles immediately raising at the accusation, she stopped. “Sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, Willam, it wasn’t your fault, none of it was your fault. Fuck, it’s such a mess.”

Alaska began to cry again and Willam pulled her back into a hug. As she started to calm down, Willam took her hand and squeezed it.

“I’ve been put in a relative’s room- nobody’s updated me about Sharon yet but then I’ve only been here for 20 minutes. Why don’t we go inside and see if there’s been any progress?” she summoned a smile for her friend, not yet letting go of her hand. She led Alaska back into the hospital, past the initial shopping-centre facade of coffee shops and WH Smiths that lined the entrance hall and staved off the horrors of the fact that they were in an actual fucking hospital- a place where people bled and suffered and died, and Willam hated it.

She had only just managed to find her way back to the relative’s room and get a snuffling Alaska sat on the couch when a doctor who seemed entirely too young in an all-too-stereotypical white coat entered. Willam could have laughed at how much of a parody everything seemed, until the doctor spoke.

“Hello, ladies. I’m Dr Hall, I’ve been put in charge of Sharon for the time being,” he stuck out his hand, Willam following suit and shaking it while Alaska was unable to rise from the couch.

“I’m Willam, that’s Alaska. She’s Sharon’s girlfriend,” she responded as she shook. Semantics could get fucked for now- Alaska cared like a girlfriend, cried like a girlfriend and worried like a girlfriend so for the moment, that was who she was to Sharon.

“Good to meet you both. I’ve just been in triage with Sharon and I’ve done an initial assessment with the head nurse. It’s hard to say until we run some more thorough tests, but for the moment we believe Sharon has sustained a number of injuries and she’ll be in the ICU for her time here.”

There, the doctor paused as if to take in the reactions of the girls in front of him. Willam had been aware of a cry from Alaska, but she was motionless and felt completely sick. “Injuries like what?”

“Well, we’re certain she’s broken her leg. That’s straightforward enough and we’ll be able to fix that. She also has a laceration on her right arm that will need stitched up, but everything else seems to be internal. Her breathing is very laboured so we think there could be some sort of fracture to her ribs or alternatively a traumatic pneumothorax, what you and I would refer to as a punctured lung.”

Alaska gave a gasp as Willam took all of the information in. She knew Sharon was hurt, but she didn’t realise just how bad it was, as silly as it sounded.

“Apart from that, we’ll need to get her a CT scan to assess whether or not there’s any internal bleeding or any other fractures or breakages,” he continued, his face softening as his eyes settled on Alaska. “I’m very sorry, I know how hard this must be for you both.”

“Can we see her?” Alaska asked softly, her eyes filled with tears. Willam let a small breath go.

“Alaska, you heard him. Sharon will be waiting to go for scans just now, she’s not in a fit state for us,” Willam sat down next to her friend and pulled her close. Exhaustion seemed to overcome Alaska and her sobs fell quiet, choosing to look intently at the floor instead. Willam turned to address the doctor. “When can we see her, though?”

“It’s hard to say. Once she’s had her scans she might need to go into theatre and if so, she’ll be waiting for that. When she’s done, we’ll give her a room and you can go and see her. Until then you’re welcome to use this room as your base, and if you need me at all then please feel free to ask at reception for me,” Dr Hall smiled gently, nodding to the two women as he left the room and closed the door silently.

Once he was gone, silence filled the small room. Willam stood up slowly.

“Lask, I’m going to need to head back outside. I said I’d pick up Courtney. Are you going to be okay here?”

The other woman wordlessly nodded. Despite the uneasy feeling in her chest, Willam knew she had to go outside to see if Courtney was there.

As she walked back to the same spot where she’d met Alaska, thoughts swirled around her mind and poured over the top of each other like a whirlpool. A punctured lung, internal bleeding. All of it was so horrible. Willam couldn’t help but imagine the worst, and her stomach felt so tight and sick.

She didn’t have to walk all the way back outside, as she found Courtney as she turned into the small shopping area. She was leaving the little M&S food (capitalism at its worst, Willam thought, putting arguably the most expensive supermarket in a hospital so people have no other choice but to buy from them) with a small shopping bag and her face, similar to Alaska’s, was red and tear-stained. She was dressed in a sweatshirt, jeans and trainers but her hair was still curled neatly, indicative of her date just hours before.

She’d probably been having such a good night, Willam thought, and I’ve ruined it.

“Courtney,” Willam called her over, the other girl’s head turning at the mention of her name. Selfishly, Willam’s heart lifted at the brief light that shone in Courtney’s eyes when she saw her. As if everything that had happened between them had been forgotten, Courtney hurried forward and wrapped her arms around Willam in a hug. Willam could feel her breathing deeply as she sighed and her mind cruelly taunted her, the image of a rib piercing through Sharon’s lung springing to mind involuntarily even though she knew that wasn’t how a punctured lung worked. For a moment they both stood still in each other’s arms, the two women simply needing held, one anchoring the other.

Courtney pulled away first, like Willam knew she would. She fixed her red eyes on Willam’s and her face was full of concern. “How is she, Willam?”

“Doctor was just in, they’re doing a scan on her now but they think she’s got a punctured lung and maybe internal bleeding. She’s broken her leg and the road sliced her arm open too. She could have fractured or broken more bones but they don’t know yet,” Willam sighed, unable to break Courtney’s gaze. The other woman looked sick as she glanced down the corridor. Willam could see she was looking at all the different horrifying hospital signs, each as cryptic and foreboding as the last.

“Oh God, it’s horrible. Absolutely fucking horrible,” she said softly, shakily breathing in.

“She’ll be in the ICU once they’ve finished with her, but we don’t know how long that’ll be. Alaska’s here, and they’ve given us a room to wait in,” Willam explained, as she began to walk slowly forward, gently encouraging Courtney to follow.

Courtney walked a couple of steps silently, then gave a panicked laugh. “I’m an idiot. I just went and panic-bought a ton of hospital shit for Sharon. I doubt it’ll be much use to her.”

Willam looked down at the bag. “What did you get?”

Courtney gave a humourless bark of a laugh. “Grapes, Lucosade and Heat magazine.”

“The holy trinity of intensive care unit accessories,” Willam quipped equally humourlessly.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Willam having to fight the urge to reach down and intertwine her fingers with Courtney’s as they walked down each corridor. She couldn’t believe she was having these horrible, selfish thoughts while Sharon was lying on a hospital trolley somewhere in the building but the whole experience had shocked and scared her, reminded her of how unforgiving and cruel fate could be, and that was enough to make anyone cling to the people they cared for.

The rest of the time in the relatives’ room passed in a blur. Courtney and Alaska were reunited and tears were shed as soon as they saw each other, Courtney clinging to Alaska and muttering how sorry she was over and over again whilst Alaska silently stood and let herself be held, tears alternating between streaming down her cheeks and dropping directly from her eyes onto Courtney’s hoodie. They sat and they waited. Willam made the three of them cups of tea, none of which were drank. They tried to talk about things, mundane things, anything that wasn’t Sharon. They sat still and isolated from each other, save for Courtney holding Alaska’s hand tightly, her knuckles white and curled around Alaska’s fingers.

It had been roughly an hour and twenty minutes when the doctor from before re-appeared in the room, and just before he spoke there was silence like Willam had never heard before, as if the whole world held its breath.

***

The beeping was monotonous and creepy and clinical, but to Willam it was the best sound she’d heard in her life because as long as the beeping continued, it meant Sharon was alive.

She didn’t look very Sharon-like, though, she supposed, as Willam watched in slight horror as her chest rose laboriously up and down. Tubes snaked in and out of various limbs and an oxygen mask was strapped to her swollen face, upon which had developed several green and blue bruises. She looked awful, but she was breathing.

The hours had both dragged and flown by.  03.40, Doctor Hall had explained that Sharon was in theatre as the CAT scan had uncovered internal bleeding near her liver. Their worst fear. Alaska had cried and Courtney had been shaken and Willam sat and stared at nothing, paralysed with fear. 04.15, another visit from the doctor after a tense and sickening half hour in the relatives’ room, which had begun to feel like a prison. The surgeons had stopped the bleeding and Sharon would be okay, although on top of the punctured lung she did have a broken collarbone, two fractured ribs and a fractured pelvis. Willam hadn’t known if she was supposed to be happy that Sharon wasn’t in immediate life-threatening danger or full of dread at all the horrible breaks and fractures she’d sustained. 04.50, another visit from Dr Hall, and just as tensions were running at their highest the three girls had finally been told they could see Sharon.

That had been the last update before they’d followed Dr Hall up to the intensive care unit and into a small, mercifully private room which housed a bed, two chairs, a bedside cabinet, a TV, and Sharon with all her tubes and machines. Willam hadn’t been able to stop staring at the woman on the bed since she’d seen her, and neither had the other two girls. Willam had given both of them the chairs and she’d chosen to stand near the door, which meant she could see both of their expressions. Courtney looked pale and blank-faced, Alaska looked mournful.

It was Alaska who spoke first in an entirely emotionless voice. “She doesn’t look like Sharon.”

There was a silence which Willam filled. “He did tell us that she’d look different. I know it’s freaky but all the stuff she’s hooked up to is all stuff that’s going to help her, Lask.”

Alaska nodded silently. She looked at one of Sharon’s hands, the one closest to the bed, which had an IV line attached to the back of it. Her mouth turned downwards. “I’m scared to even hold her hand in case something else goes wrong.”

Courtney rested a hand on Alaska’s arm. “Nothing’s going to go wrong. It’ll be fine.”

Alaska leaned forward, reached a hand out and awkwardly rested it over Sharon’s, lacing the tips of her fingers through Sharon’s own. Willam let out a breath she was unaware she’d been holding, akin to a sigh of relief.

“When will she wake up, do you think?” Alaska asked, her voice small.

Courtney sighed. “She’ll be resting for a while yet, I think. The pain meds will knock her out quite a bit.”

“Do you think when she wakes up she’d be able to get me some?” Willam deadpanned, without being able to help it. She watched as Alaska turned to look at her, then bit her lip as she stifled a laugh. Courtney first looked to Alaska, then at Willam before she let out a small giggle. Willam smiled. It wasn’t much, an unfunny joke about drugs, but it had lifted some of the tension from the room.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed once, then twice, then three times. A call. She took her phone out of her pocket, and she could see the other girls looking at her forebodingly.

Caller ID- Bianca.

Willam had known that the phone call would come, she just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. She looked at the other two girls, stepped out of the room, and took it.

“Hi, Bianca.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line, which never ever happened in a Bianca Del Rio phone call. When Bianca phoned you she had shit to say immediately and she never wasted time. Now, though, Willam felt the seconds tick by. Her voice finally came. “Willam. What’s happened to Sharon.”

Willam cast her eyes through the glass to the three women in the small room, and her heart sank.

“Willam.”

Willam took a breath. “We were out together. She was in a hit and run. She’s in intensive care.”

There was some form of sound from Bianca that sounded both angry and anguished. Willam held her breath. “I’m sorry, Bianca, I should have phoned you earlier. I should have phoned the police-”

“Willam, you listen to me,” Bianca’s voice came down the line, hoarse and harsh. “Do not dare apologise. You weren’t to know. You got her to the hospital, which was the most important thing.”

There was a silence. Willam turned and looked at the pale, beige paint of the corridor walls. “It’s reached the press, hasn’t it.”

“Obviously.”

She hissed and let the silence linger. “Jesus Christ, Bianca, this is all a fucking hellscape.”

“I know. I know. And I can’t hold it from the front pages, Willam, they’re all fucking animals and they need to be fed. The Guardian have got a testimonial from a trainee nurse that knows all her fucking injuries and has leaked them all,” Bianca sighed. Willam had never heard her sound so hopeless. She was silent again. “You’ve been my first port of call. I’m going to phone the detective looking after Sharon’s case, because I don’t believe for a minute that this was a coincidence. Then I’m coming in to see her.”

“Bianca, don’t…” Willam began. How do you comfort a woman like Bianca? “Don’t worry about the press. There’s still a couple of hours before shit goes to print, we can figure something out.”

“I’m not worried about the press. I’m worried about Sharon.”

Silence.

Bianca’s voice came again. “I’ll see you in a bit. Take care, Willam.”

She was gone.

Willam walked back into Sharon’s room. Alaska and Courtney immediately looked up at her.

“The press have got it,” she said blankly. Courtney shook her head.

“Well, we knew it would only be a matter of time,” Alaska said softly, her face frowning.

“Bianca’s coming in. She’ll probably have police with her,” Willam said, then sighed as realisation dawned on her. “Which means I’ll get questioned. Can’t wait for that.”

Courtney caught her eye. She looked genuinely concerned for Willam and despite everything, Willam’s heart skipped a beat. Courtney rose slowly. “Well, we’ll all need coffee if we’re going to be awake much longer. I’ll get us some.”

“I’ll come with you,” Willam suddenly decided, Courtney’s eyes giving nothing away as she nodded her permission. Alaska simply looked up at them and then back down at Sharon. It was an unspoken fact that she wasn’t going to leave her side anytime soon.

Willam followed Courtney out into the corridor and then into the lift where they were both silent. Willam looked at the floor, then spoke.

“At least she’s alright.”

Courtney nodded. “True. I think we just need her to come to and then we’ll all breathe a sigh of relief.”

There was another silence as they walked into the small Costa. Courtney ordered three espressos with milk from a barista with purple hair and huge winged eyeliner, and they sat at a table and waited. Willam looked at Courtney’s face- the worried frown lines on her forehead, her glassy, tired eyes, her lips which were sore and bitten. She missed her so much.

“So,” Willam began, deciding to break the silence. “How was your date?”

“My date- oh!” Courtney looked confused, then enlightened. She gave a laugh. “Yeah…it was nice. Andrew’s a lovely guy and he’s a good old-fashioned gentleman.”

Willam wanted to laugh. What had she expected, Courtney to fall back into her arms? “Oh. Well, at least that’s-”

“But I think we’re probably going to stay as friends,” Courtney finished, interrupting her. Willam couldn’t help but feel her heart lifting.

“That’s a shame,” Willam frowned. Courtney looked at her for a beat, then spluttered a laugh.

“You don’t give a shit, do you?” she asked softly as she laughed. Willam snorted.

“No, I guess I don’t,” she smiled affectionately. Fuck, she’d missed laughing with her, seeing her eyes crinkle up and the way she’d tip her head back and let her hair cascade down her shoulders. “So what was the problem, then?”

Courtney raised her eyebrows. “He wasn’t really vegan. He just eats quorn sometimes. I took him to a vegan restaurant and he looked so horrified at the lack of meat.”

The both of them laughed quietly. Courtney looked awkward, as if she was about to say something else. Willam felt her heartbeat through her chest. She knew that Courtney was holding back on something and so she was almost afraid to say anything in case she backed off.

“Besides,” Courtney mentioned, her gaze firmly fixed on the floor. “He could tell…that I wasn’t over somebody.”

“Oh,” Willam said. It was as if her body couldn’t keep up with everything. One minute she was worried sick about Sharon, the next she was almost going into cardiac arrest because Courtney had basically dropped a massive hint.

Courtney had raised her gaze and fixed it on Willam. “Somebody being you.”

“Right.”

Courtney laughed. “I thought I’d spell that out for you, because you’re a massive fucking moron.”

Willam coughed out a laugh. “I am.”

Courtney smiled a little, looked at Willam expectantly for a beat, then looked again to the floor. Willam panicked. She couldn’t risk losing Courtney again.

“Well…I’m not over you either,” she said quietly, watching as Courtney’s eyes snapped up to face her. Maybe Courtney had been missing her as much as she’d been missing Courtney.

Courtney gave a little smile. “I know.”

Willam obviously looked taken-aback because Courtney burst out laughing, which made Willam start laughing too. As the laughter died down, all that was left was the pair of them looking into each other’s eyes. Just as Willam was about to speak and just as it looked as if Courtney was about to too, the barista yelled Courtney’s order. Courtney jumped up and grabbed the little cardboard tray of three coffees with one hand, then turned to Willam, smiled and gave a little shrug. Just then, her phone vibrated again.

“Bianca’s upstairs with Sharon and Alaska. There’s someone from Scotland Yard with her,” Willam explained as she looked at her phone. Courtney nodded.

“That’s the fun over then,” she quipped, moving towards the exit. Willam’s silence prompted Courtney to look towards her, her expression concerned. “Willam. It’ll be fine.”

Willam mustered a small smile as she walked towards the lifts. She was so lost in thought and worry that she almost didn’t notice Courtney transfer the tray of drinks to her right hand and silently curl her left hand around Willam’s own.

***

It was six o’clock in the morning, and Willam was exhausted. She’d never been questioned by the police before, and she never wanted to be again. They were sympathetic but relentless, and with each question Willam felt more and more useless. How much had Sharon had to drink? What was the precise time that it had happened? Whereabouts in the road was she standing? How fast was the car going? What was its number plate? What was the make of car? What was the colour? What did the driver look like? What did the driver do after they hit Sharon? Which way did they continue driving? Every question was one that Willam felt she couldn’t properly answer. They asked her some questions about the previous death threats, and who she felt might have been behind them- did Sharon have any enemies, and suchlike. Apart from blaming most of the UK’s far right population, Willam had said she wasn’t sure.

She and Bianca had been taken to a station nearby to the hospital, and she emerged from the small questioning room tired and simply wanting to go to bed, but knowing that she would return to the hospital to stay with Alaska and Courtney. She wasn’t really in the mood to speak much to Bianca, and for once Bianca didn’t seem as if she wanted to chat much to her.

“How were they with you?” Bianca asked, rising from the chair she’d been sitting on in the police waiting room as she saw Willam emerge.

“Fine. Didn’t feel very helpful, though,” Willam said, sighing as she walked with Bianca. “I should have written the number plate down, or looked harder at the car, or tried to get a look at the driver.”

Bianca frowned deeply. “Willam, you can’t blame yourself.”

They walked out of the station and down the small, quiet road which was starting to become bathed with morning sunlight. Willam turned to look at Bianca. In all her time working with her, she’d never seen her look so troubled.

Seeing Willam’s concerned look, Bianca exhaled. “I couldn’t keep it from going to the papers. There’s articles online now, and it’ll be on the front pages. We stuck the TV on in Sharon’s room and it was all over News 24. I’m sorry, Willam, I couldn’t protect her.”

“It’s alright, Bianca,” Willam sighed, stopping as she got to the junction. A big black car was waiting at a stop sign, presumably Bianca’s. The spin doctor looked troubled as she gazed to the car.

“It’s getting dragged into politics already.”

Willam cursed under her breath. This was all they needed, Sharon’s accident getting turned into a points-scoring exercise by different parties. “What are people saying?”

“Some of it’s nice. Most of the party have rallied round without me even having to give them a line. Latrice has given a statement, as has Trinity. Shea has tweeted support, so’s Sasha, Peppermint and Maxine. Ironically Sharon getting run over by a car is the most uniting thing she’s done for the party. If I’d known I would have hired her a hitman ages ago,” Bianca laughed bitterly. Her face turned grave. “It’s Mrs fucking Blind Man’s Crumpet herself.”

“Fucking Phi Phi,” Willam hissed, surprising herself with how much venom was in her voice.

“She’s spoken with ITV and she’s given the whole wobbly top lip expressing condolences thing, but she’s trying to turn it into an attack on immigrants.”

“Fuck, did she stretch before she reached? What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Willam complained, deeply irritated.

Bianca frowned. “Because The Sun, the paper we all love to line our cat litter trays with, is alleging that the hit and run was a terrorist incident carried out by an Asian man.”

Willam tore her hands through her hair. “But that’s bullshit, surely? Nobody knows who did it, the police don’t even know who did it!”

“They have a source,” Bianca said. “Which means that either it’s a bullshit source, their usual currency, or that the suspect has leaked it themself.”

“God, Bianca, this is fucking madness.”

Bianca looked at the pavement awkwardly, then at Willam. “Look, I wasn’t going to mention it to you today given the massive amount of stress you’ve already been put through, but we need something on Phi Phi’s party to distract from this mess. If you have anything…well, we’d all appreciate it. Especially Number 10, if you get me.”

Willam momentarily wished she was lying sleeping on a hospital bed instead of Sharon.

“Okay,” she simply nodded once, her mind too full of words to say anything else. Bianca nodded back in goodbye and walked towards her car. Willam watched her climb in and drive off before beginning her own walk back to the hospital. On the way she saw people walking to work, some of whom gave her funny looks. She wondered if they all knew what had happened, until she realised she was still in her clothes from last night- green fur jacket, black lace crop top, tight black skirt without tights and platform trainers on her feet.

Before long she was back at the hospital and in the lift up to the ICU. As she found Sharon’s room, it was almost as if the past hour or so hadn’t happened as the girls were still in the same position- Sharon unmoving on the bed, Alaska staring at her and holding her hand, and Courtney with her phone in her hand texting furiously. Alaska and Courtney looked up as Willam entered the room.

“Hey,” Courtney said, her eyes slightly wide in anticipation. “How was it?”

“It was okay. They asked me a bunch of things I couldn’t answer and then a couple of things I could. I just felt like a fucking failure, like I was no help at all.”

“Stop it,” Courtney frowned, chastising her. “You’re not a failure at all. I bet you were really helpful. Here, come sit. You must be shattered.”

With that, Courtney rose from her chair and beckoned Willam to sit. Too exhausted to protest, Willam slid into it. She looked at Sharon, then Alaska.

“Anything?”

Alaska sighed deeply. “Nothing. She hasn’t even moved.”

Worry churned in Willam’s stomach. Courtney piped up. “The doctor was in though, and he said that sometimes it can help to talk to them even if they’re not responding.”

“Did you try it?”

Alaska chuckled. “We read her some of Heat magazine.”

“Oh, good, she’d have loved that,” Willam said dryly, causing Courtney to snort. Willam thought for a moment, then turned back to Alaska. “Well, when she wakes up, you’ll be sitting there. She’s not properly seen you for ages. Why don’t you talk to her? Explain your side of everything that’s happened.”

Willam looked to Courtney for approval, who shrugged. “Worth a try, Lask.”

Alaska took a deep breath, laughed a little self-consciously, then turned to Sharon.

“Hey babe,” she began, looking at Willam and Courtney in embarrassment, then back to Sharon. “God, this is just…literal torture seeing you like this. Somehow I just feel like all of this is my fault, maybe if I’d stayed with you then you wouldn’t have gone out with Willam and none of this would have happened. I’m an absolute dick, really, because I’ve been ignoring you and every single attempt you’ve made at trying to contact me and then Willam phoned me and told me about what happened and all I could think about was getting here and being with you. It was the worst fucking moment of my life, Sharon. I kept torturing myself and wondering what if she never wakes up, that the last contact I had with you was over some fucking stupid USB stick that I didn’t even want to give to you in the first place? And I couldn’t even tell you-”

Willam looked up as Alaska sniffed. Tears were running down her face and welling in her eyes, and Alaska used the hand that wasn’t holding Sharon’s to wipe at her nose.

“I couldn’t even tell you want I wanted to tell you- that I wanted to just put everything aside and make up with you, to stop our stupid fucking fight, to tell you that I never wanted to end things with you and that the whole thing was a horrible, stupid mistake,” Alaska sobbed, snuffling and taking a deep breath in. “And I couldn’t even tell you that I loved you- that I love you- and when I got that call I was so fucking terrified of never being able to say it to you again. Do you remember when we first said it to each other, Sharon? It was the night we went out for dinner at that Italian restaurant at like, eleven o’clock after I’d gone with you to Newsnight, and you walked me back home and we watched a film- The Other Woman- and you hated it, and you were making all these jokes about it and I was joining in and we laughed so much that when it died down and we just looked at each other I couldn’t help but say it. And you said it back right after? Why can’t we go back to the way things were? Fuck, I would have kept our relationship secret for a lifetime if it meant we could have just stayed together. In fact fuck, if it means so much Sharon, I won’t pursue the whole MP thing. You’re more important to me than my job, you’re more important to me than life. I love you more than anything or anyone I’ve ever loved in my life so please…”

Alaska took a big gulp of air. “…please, fuck, get better.”

Willam and Courtney stood in a horrible, cold silence as they watched Alaska cry quietly to herself. Suddenly, Willam gave a slight jump as Sharon’s free hand came up to her face and slowly lifted the oxygen mask to one side.

“You are becoming an MP, bitch,” she croaked hoarsely, causing Alaska’s gaze to shoot up to look at her girlfriend. “There’s no way you’re giving up on that just because I’m in a hospital bed.”

Willam choked a laugh as she looked at Alaska, her face at once shocked and relieved. She looked slightly as if she didn’t know what to do for a moment, then elected to burst out crying, bringing Sharon’s hand up to her face to kiss it over and over again. Sharon laughed- tiredly, weakly, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

“Jesus Christ, you took your time there,” Willam smiled, part of her wanting to cry in relief too.

“How long have I been out for?” Sharon asked, coughing as she sat up.

“Since about 1. It’s like, 6.15 now.”

“Shit,” she said, her voice weak.

“How are you feeling?” Courtney asked, visibly relieved too.

“Like someone’s kicked me half to death. Pain meds do shit all, I feel like shit but also incredibly high,” Sharon wheezed, then turned to Alaska. Her face softened and judging by Alaska’s reaction, she had squeezed her hand. “Hey, stranger.”

Alaska laughed through her tears. “Hey.”

Sharon smiled affectionately. “Is this all I had to do to get you back, then? Get run over?”

“Don’t,” Alaska half-laughed, half-cried, then kissed Sharon’s fingers. “Sharon, I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I was so fucking worried.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard it all. I could have said something halfway through, I just wanted you to keep saying more nice things about me,” Sharon joked, still her old self despite the tubes and drips and machines. Her expression grew dark as she turned to Courtney. “Oh, by the way. Never read me fucking any women’s magazine ever again. Hearing about Natalie Cassidy’s fucking colonoscopy was more painful than getting struck down.”

All four of the girls laughed, happy to be together with everyone conscious and cheerful all over again.

“Bianca’s been round. And people have said nice things. Trinity, Peppermint, Latrice, Max, Shea, Sasha,” Willam mentioned, thinking it would cheer Sharon up. Sharon smiled in a lazy, drugged-up-on-pain-meds way.

“God. All that in five hours? Did Bianca leave flowers?”

“No, of course not,” Alaska sighed. Then she laughed. “She stuck News 24 on.”

The girls all laughed again, this time quieter. Courtney took a deep breath and stretched. Sharon narrowed her swollen eyes at her.

“Are we boring you, Act?”

Courtney gave a smile. “Listen, I’ve been up a long time. It’s hard to squeeze a date, a trauma and a relief into one night. Slash…morning.”

“Oh yeah, how did that go?” Alaska asked pleasantly. She’d still not let go of Sharon’s hand, Willam noted with a smile.

“It was nice. We’re going to stay friends, though.”

Sharon looked at Willam meaningfully. Willam gave her a look that simply said, behave.

“Fair enough. I think me and Alaska are going to stay friends too,” Sharon smiled lazily, laughing as Alaska’s face grew bashful.

“Stop it. I’ve suffered enough,” she leaned her head over to nuzzle it into the crook of Sharon’s neck, one of the few parts of her that didn’t have wires or tubes coming in or out of it.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.”

Alaska frowned and lifted her head off of Sharon’s shoulder momentarily. “This isn’t the broken collarbone, is it?”

Sharon laughed. “I broke a collarbone? Oh, well, fucked if I know. Everything hurts.”

Willam laughed. She stretched and yawned. Life and normal routine seemed so far away. “I think I should go home and sleep, now that I know you’re alright.”

“Me too,” Courtney said, giving a yawn that Willam could tell was fake. Why was that?

“You guys go ahead. I’m going to stay here for a while,” Alaska smiled at Sharon, the other woman returning her smile and shrugging.

“You can go home if you want, babe. I might have another snooze.”

“Well, I’ll snooze with you,” Alaska said matter-of-factly, shuffling her chair forward and resting her head on Sharon’s side. Sharon smiled and used her other hand to stroke Alaska’s hair.

Willam looked at Courtney, taking her cue to leave. She cast her gaze back to the couple. “I’ll be back when I’ve had a sleep and something to eat. Bianca might be back, just to warn you.” She wondered if she should mention the shit with Phi Phi. She decided not to.

“Oh, goody,” Sharon sighed, re-adjusting her oxygen mask so that it was over her face as a goodbye. Alaska waved sleepily to her friends and then Willam left the room, followed by Courtney. They walked down the corridor silently for a minute, neither one of them sure of what to say. Courtney’s words from earlier swirled around in Willam’s mind, and the fact that the two of them were alone together again, with so much possibility and opportunity of things that could be said, made Willam’s skin prickle in excitement and optimism.

As if she could read Willam’s mind, Courtney gave a small sigh as they both walked into the open air. She turned to face Willam and looked her in the eyes. “I know it sounds stupid, but I could really murder a glass of wine.”

“Same.”

Courtney was still looking at her. “Well, I’ve got wine at my place, if you want to come.”

Willam didn’t hesitate. “Okay. Sounds good.”

They talked about trivial things on the walk to the tube, and on the tube itself. The elephant in the room (or train carriage) was enormous and almost suffocating, and the sound of the train against the electric charges almost mirrored the electricity that seemed to run through Willam’s veins - Courtney isn’t over me, and I’m not over her.

It was almost seven o’clock in the morning by the time they got to Courtney’s flat, but the sheer adrenaline that was pumping through her heart was keeping Willam awake. As Courtney opened her front door for Willam and slipped off her shoes, Willam looked around at the small hallway. It had been around four months since she’d last been here, but nothing had changed. It was somehow reassuring to Willam. She followed Courtney into the kitchen where the other girl had pulled out two bottles of wine- an unopened red with a somewhat dusty bottle, and a half-full white with that fresh-from-the-fridge wet glaze.

“I like either, so it’s your pick,” Courtney smiled easily, making Willam wonder whether or not she was feeling the same mix of apprehension and excitement.

“Well, white’s going to make us feel less guilty about the fact we’re drinking wine when we’re normally getting ready for work,” Willam shrugged, Courtney snorting a laugh and fetching two glasses from a cupboard below her breakfast bar. She picked up the glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other and made her way through to the living room, Willam following behind her. As they slumped down on the sofas and Courtney poured the wine out, Willam sighed.

“I’m so fucking relieved she’s okay.”

Courtney looked at her, an expression on her face that Willam couldn’t make out. “I just can’t believe it all actually happened. It’s like a horrendous nightmare,” she lifted up her glass. “To Sharon being alive.”

Willam smiled lazily and echoed the sentiment. “To Sharon being alive.”

There was silence for a moment as they both took a sip, Willam watching the early morning sun bathe the skyline out of Courtney’s French doors.

“Do you think…it was deliberate?” Courtney spoke quietly, Willam looking at her only to find Courtney was looking at the view as well.

“Fuck, I don’t know. The police think so. Could be, or it could be a jittery driver with a guilty conscience who didn’t want to stop.”

Courtney nodded, then narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t the doctor say she was lucky to be alive? Ten miles an hour more and she wouldn’t have made it. If it was a main road and the car wasn’t going that fast, it kind of sounds like someone was parked waiting for her. Do you not think?”

Willam rolled her eyes. “Or it was just someone that wasn’t driving very fast.”

“On a main road like that at 1am? Willam, come on.”

Willam couldn’t help but laugh. “What is this, CSI: Sydney?”

Courtney walloped Willam on the arm, then laughed with her. She sighed. “I’ve just been sitting waiting with Alaska for so long that I’ve had all of these thoughts running around my head, but of course I couldn’t share them with her. I’m glad you came back with me.”

Willam’s heart gave a jump. She wanted to say something in response, something flirty that didn’t come on too strong, but her mind couldn’t conjure anything up.

Courtney spoke again, and Willam noticed she had that same look on her face as before. “So how come you were,” she paused the tiniest amount. “…out with Sharon anyway?”

“She suggested it. Probably thought it’d cheer us both up,” Willam shrugged, taking another sip. She noticed Courtney still hadn’t taken that look off her face. What did she want from her?

Honesty?

“Court, you should probably know. And I probably should’ve told you sooner. Me and Sharon had this whole thing when we were at uni,” Willam felt herself just coming out with it and it was like jumping out of a moving vehicle. Courtney’s expression finally relaxed.

“Okay.”

Willam picked at a stray thread on a sofa cushion. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“Because I’m not,” Courtney said plainly, taking a small sip. She paused, then added, “You always had this weird tension between you when you started. Like you really weren’t keen on her and I couldn’t see why. She always seemed as if she was walking on eggshells slightly around you. It only really seemed to go away…gosh, I don’t know when. But I always wondered why you were like that with her.”

Willam looked out at the view again. “I tried to reset my own view of the whole situation. I told anyone who asked that I knew her from uni, and that wasn’t a lie, but just not the full truth either.”

There was a small silence. Courtney leant over to top up their glasses. As she was pouring, she spoke again. Willam noticed how level and nonchalant her voice was, as if she was making a particular effort not to sound too interested. “So what was it that went on between you?”

Willam exhaled. Even after she’d talked through it all with Sharon, she still didn’t know what they’d been. “A miscommunication. She thought we were just friends that fucked, which we were. I saw it as more than that. I was a young, naive little bitch and I just got too deep in my feelings. It’s fucked, though, because the whole thing just made me so scared of relationships. Like what if it ever happened again to me and I was into it but the other person wasn’t?”

Courtney nodded understandingly. Her eyes were soft. It was scary to Willam to be telling Courtney all of this, but she didn’t seem to be scared off by it.

“Wonder how that feels, to be really, really into someone only to find out that they weren’t on your wavelength about it at all.”

“It was-” Willam started, then stopped as realisation dawned on her. She looked at Courtney, who was trying to conceal a smile. Willam laughed apologetically. “Fuck.”

Courtney gave a soft laugh, reaching out and taking Willam’s free hand. She held it gently. The gesture almost broke Willam’s heart. All at once it hit her just how badly she’d fucked up with Courtney. Only now was she realising that she had put Courtney in the exact same position that she had been in with Sharon all those years ago. Looking at Courtney’s hand, she squeezed it tightly. “Courtney, I’m sorry. I mean it.”

Courtney gave a peaceful smile. “I know you are.”

Willam smiled back. A small weight on her heart noted that she’d not been forgiven, only acknowledged, but after the past fortnight or so, acknowledgement was better than nothing.

“What was Bianca saying anyway?” Courtney continued, sipping her wine again. Willam sighed deeply.

“Well, you know that Phi Phi’s trying to politicise everything already. Bianca wants something on her party to take the heat off Sharon.”

Courtney grimaced and shook her head. She still hadn’t let go of Willam’s hand. “Jesus Christ, it’s all so messy and gross and tasteless.”

“I know, Court, but it’s our career. It was bound to happen. Politician gets hit by car, it turns political. Politician does anything, it turns political,” Willam shrugged, taking a drink. The sun was higher in the sky now and it was illuminating Courtney’s hair so beautifully.

“What are we supposed to get for her? This situation’s already stressful enough as it is.”

Willam felt herself tense up. She allowed herself to confront what she’d been pushing to the back of her mind all this time. She still had those photos on her phone of Roxxxy and Detox from all those months ago at Alyssa’s ball, and Phi Phi had recently voted against an LGBT-inclusive curriculum in secondary schools. How would the media react if she’d unknowingly voted against a policy which showed disapproval towards her own two advisors?

“I have something,” Willam stated simply, causing Courtney to sigh in relaxation.

“Thank Christ. Just give it to Bianca now and she can get out of our hair and let Sharon recover. What is it, anyway? Oil dumping in the Pacific? Foxhunting?” she laughed gently, stopping as she saw Willam’s grave face.

“Roxxxy and Detox,” she said. Courtney’s face dropped, her wine glass tipping over a little and threatening to spill. “I got photos of them at Alyssa’s ball, together. It would make Phi Phi look like a massive idiot and would take her down more than a few pegs…” Willam let all the air out of her body and looked into her glass. “…but it also outs both of her advisors.”

Courtney looked sick. “Oh God. Willam, you can’t do that.”

“I know,” she shook her head and wondered if she could voice the other horrible thought in her head. Communication could be good right now, she supposed. “Although part of me thinks why not? Fuck them, you know? They were both absolute cunts to Alaska, they work for a fucking sycophant. And I just…ugh…I really want that Number 10 job, and Bianca heavily implied that any info on this could get me it.”

She looked hesitantly for Courtney’s reaction. It turned out there were a lot of them. First, she wrinkled her nose and scrunched up her face in a brief display of disgust. Then, her expression completely dropped as if she was considering something. Finally she put her glass down, reached out to take Willam’s hand in her own, and gazed at her kindly.

“Willam,” she began. “Why do you want this job so much?”

Willam gave a choked laugh. “I mean it’s…it’s my fucking dream, Courtney. It’s all I’ve ever wanted out of life, to get to Number 10, to actually say I work there. I’ll have finally made it…and not many people can say that.”

“Okay,” Courtney nodded. Willam could tell she was listening intently. “So…you get the job at Number 10, let’s say. And what then?”

Willam blinked. “What do you mean?”

“What then? What do you aim for, what do you aspire to be after that? If that’s your life’s dream and it’s already achieved? Bill, you’re not even 30 yet,” Courtney smiled gently, tucking a piece of Willam’s layers behind her ear. “If you complete your life’s goal and you’re not even at the halfway point…what happens then?”

Willam felt completely blank. “Well, I…”

Courtney continued. “I know you don’t want to be PM, because you’re happy in the background. I know you don’t have any designs on leadership for the same reason. So what else is there?”

Willam paused and thought, trying to summon up something. “Bianca’s going to have to retire at some point.”

Courtney barked a laugh. “And what, you take her job? You take the job that consumed Bianca’s life so much she ended up getting divorced and she now lives on her own with no family? You want that life?”

Willam felt as if she’d heard Courtney’s voice catch in her throat. She was looking at her almost pleadingly, hopefully, desperate for what she deigned the right answer. Her intensity unsettled Willam. Or perhaps it was the truth in all that Courtney was saying? She’d never once reconsidered her determination to get to Number 10, never once wavered in her decision-making, because if she changed her mind about the job she’d wanted for so long, what was left?

“What do you have at Dosac? You’ve got me, you’ve got Sharon, you’ve got Alaska and the other girls. You’ve got a considerable amount of influence, you’re a big fish in a small pond. Other departments know your name, you’ve got so many opportunities. And if you change now…all that will be gone.”

Willam looked out of the windows again. The sun was now directly at her eye level. She turned back to Courtney and frowned at her. “Why are you saying all this, Court?”

Courtney looked away as if Willam’s gaze had burnt her. “I’m not trying to stop you from going after what you want, Willam. That would make me a horrific friend and an even worse person. I’m just trying to get you to be sure that it really is what you want.”

Willam’s voice caught in her throat. She looked away from Courtney, drained her glass, then placed it gently on the coffee table in front of them both.

“I should probably go home-” Willam began, making to slide off the couch, but Courtney gripped tighter to her hand. Turning, Willam saw a need in Courtney’s eyes that she’d never once experienced before.

“Stay,” she said simply. It was so quiet but so strong, and the blood in Willam’s veins was freezing and icy but pumping so rapidly like an ice cold waterfall, and she could feel her heart plummeting with it.

“Why?” Willam asked, and as soon as it left her mouth she cursed herself for it, but a part of her wanted to hear Courtney say what was on her mind. Frowning and sighing a tiny, needy sigh, Courtney gently tugged at Willam’s hand.

“I just need to be…close to you just now. Because I’ve fucking missed you.”

Willam looked at her hand in Courtney’s, then met her eyes.

Now or never.

And in one fluid movement Willam was back on the sofa, both her hands fisted and tangled in Courtney’s blonde hair, melting and moaning into a kiss full of fire that Willam wanted never to end.

***

Willam woke up in the same bed she’d woken up in in December, with the same girl she’d woken up with in December. Except the circumstances weren’t quite the same. Instead of grey skies and pouring rain, the sun that poked through the blinds was golden and warm, lighting up the room. Courtney was still in the bed, her eyes shut with her dark lashes fanned out and framing them as she slept. Probably the biggest difference, though, was that both of them were completely naked.

Sex with Courtney was every bit as amazing as Willam had imagined it would be, and she was already sorry that she couldn’t remember every single second of the entire thing in detail. She could swear that nobody else, not even Sharon, could make her feel the way Courtney had made her feel last night. She had expected it to be good and for Courtney to know what she was doing, but what she didn’t expect was for Courtney to have a mouth like a phone sex chat line girl and she had actually almost laughed in awe of the stuff she was coming out with. She didn’t know if it was the intensity of the situation that fed into it- there were so many emotions that Willam had been put through last night (or this morning, she supposed) that she had almost cried once everything was over and Courtney was holding her in her arms, but she hadn’t. She’d been calm, and happy, like her life was finally at peace. Sharon was going to be alright, and Courtney had…what? Courtney had forgiven her? Courtney liked her again? Courtney wanted to be more than her friend? She didn’t know, but she got the feeling that whatever it was was positive.

Willam wondered whether or not to wake her up but Courtney quickly solved that problem as her arm reached out to grab Willam by the waist and pull her closer, Courtney nuzzling into her side sleepily.

“Hey,” she murmured through a yawn, kissing Willam’s skin and making her feel as if she was 19 years old with a melting, gooey heart all over again.

“G’morning,” Willam smiled, rubbing her eyes then remembering she hadn’t taken off any of her makeup from the night before. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mm. Always sleep like a baby after sex, I think it’s some weird nympho-narcoleptic thing I need to see a doctor about.”

Willam’s heart hammered in her chest and instantly woke her up more. “So we’re just coming out and addressing that that happened immediately?”

Courtney hurriedly sat up in bed and looked her in the eye, exasperation on her face. She’d foregone pulling the duvet up to cover herself and her boobs were fully out. “Uh, we’re both stark bollock naked, dipshit. How much more addressing of the situation could there be?”

“Yeah I know, fuckhead!” Willam snapped, a laugh bubbling in her throat. “I just don’t…I don’t know what this means now? Like what are we?”

Courtney half-laughed, half-sighed then pulled a pillow over her face and yelled into it. “Fuck! I don’t know, Willam, okay?”

Willam was smiling, but she simultaneously felt as if she was hanging by a thread. She watched as Courtney pulled the pillow off her face then rolled over and pulled her close.

“Cards on the table, I really fucking like you. I’ve never stopped liking you. I care about you, and I want to see you do well, and I like us when we’re together. We just work, we fit. We squabble at times, but it’s never malicious. But this job…it’s a bitch, and I don’t want us ending up having to hide away or have our lives ruined by it like Sharon and Alaska. So I don’t…” Courtney sighed. Willam could see her pulse thudding rapidly under her skin by her wrist. “I don’t want to label us just now. I’m scared to. But can we just…can we at least be exclusive? Because I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

Willam smiled and rolled her eyes. “As if I’d fucking want anyone else.”

Courtney nuzzled her head into Willam’s side, and Willam cast her eyes to the sun coming in through the blinds. She blinked quickly three times. “No, that sounds good. Exclusive but with no labels. I can do that. Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“For what?” Courtney kissed Willam’s temple.

“For being a cunt to you.”

“You were a cunt to me?” Courtney pulled away, frowning. “Now that doesn’t sound like Willam Belli at all.”

Willam took that as a yes.

“No more games,” Courtney said quietly, gently stroking the palm of Willam’s hand with her finger.

“No more games,” Willam agreed.

It was 2 o’clock by the time they got back to the hospital to see Sharon, after they’d showered, dressed (Willam borrowing Courtney’s clothes again), had some breakfast and got the two tubes over. It was an unspoken plan- they hadn’t talked about whether they should stay at the flat, or go visit Sharon, or even go into work. There was only one place they really needed to be today. They’d talked and chatted and laughed just as they used to, but without any awkward tension and with extra added hand holding and light knuckle and cheek kisses. They’d wondered out loud whether it had been in poor taste to fuck within the 24 hours that they’d found out Sharon had been hit by a car, before deciding that it was probably what Sharon would have wanted and endorsed anyway.

When they arrived at Sharon’s ward, it was as if nothing had changed at all- Alaska seemingly hadn’t moved from her seat and was still sitting in it facing Sharon in her Winnie the Pooh pyjamas, while the other woman was still in bed but was propped up with pillows and had her oxygen mask on. She had a loving, dreamy look on her face and seemed to be listening to Alaska talk when Courtney and Willam arrived. Alaska turned around excitedly when they came in.

“Morning,” Willam smiled, moving to hug Alaska tightly and then Sharon markedly less so, in case Willam accidentally pulled a wire out. “Or afternoon, or whatever the fuck time it is.”

“Hey,” Sharon took her mask off and smiled gently.

“How are you feeling, Sharon?” Courtney asked as she took her turn to hug her.

“I’m holding up okay. I had a big sleep when you two left, woke up at like 9. Then me and Alaska had a massive chat which took about an hour and exhausted me, so I had a nap again. Woke up about an hour ago and Alaska had stuck on the news. It’s weird seeing myself on the news in a capacity which isn’t politics. I’m not in the mood for a lot of talking so Alaska’s just been telling me about her leadership campaign,” Sharon gestured to Alaska’s happy, excited face and smiled fondly. “Christ, she looks like she’s about to explode. I fucking love this girl so much.”

Willam made a vomiting sound as she pulled up a chair beside Alaska. “Gross. So your big chat. Did you both grow up and say sorry to each other?”

Willam saw Alaska squeeze Sharon’s hand. “Of course we fucking did. That was the first thing we said. Then we basically just cried and talked about how much we loved each other for the next 59 minutes.”

Courtney laughed, and Alaska gave a small giggle then shook her head as she looked at Sharon. “No, joking. Well, we did do that. But we also spoke about career stuff- what we wanted in the next five years, what we need to do to get there.”

“It’s doable for what we both want. We just need to support each other, make it two sided and communicate. I know that now,” Sharon piped up, smiling at Alaska as if it was for her benefit and not Courtney and Willam’s.

“Well, I’m glad you two have made up,” Courtney smiled softly, moving to perch on Willam’s knee in the absence of a chair. Willam pulled her close. She didn’t miss the look that passed between Alaska and Sharon.

“Um, on the topic of making up…” Alaska raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at them both. “…what is this?”

“Courtney sitting on my lap?” Willam said sarcastically, resting her head on Courtney’s back.

“Yes…” Sharon said, waving a tubed-up hand to prompt more. “So…?”

“So…what?” Courtney asked, just as deadpan as Willam had been, and she loved her for it.

“Oh fuck, put a dying woman out of her misery!” Sharon coughed out in exasperation, earning her a furious look and a gentle smack from Alaska.

“DON’T joke about that!” she glared at her for all of two seconds, before she took her hand and turned back to Courtney and Willam. “But seriously guys, Sharon’s only got one properly working lung, can you just give us the information that we both already know but want to scream like babies at when it comes from you?”

Courtney turned and looked at Willam, suddenly embarrassed. Willam gave her a squeeze and spoke for her. “Well, we’re going to disappoint you, because we’re not girlfriends. We can’t all fall in love with our work friends and go balls-deep into a relationship. But no, we’re just…”

“We like each other, and we’re exclusive, and we’re going to take it a day at a time,” Courtney finished, Alaska giving a small, excited squeal. Sharon smiled and rolled her eyes.

“Bo-ring! I want to know if you’ve banged yet.”

“Yeah, we did,” Courtney shrugged, Willam completely shocked at her blasé display of honesty but also too tired to care much. Sharon let out a loud cheer, then immediately started coughing violently in a sobering display that reminded the girls why they were all together in the first place. Seeing Alaska’s concerned face, Sharon frowned.

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” she wheezed, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry. Just coughing up pieces of old lung, they say the new one should grow back within 3-5 working days.”

Alaska snorted. Willam laughed and shook her head. “You’re so fucking unfunny it hurts.”

Sharon shrugged. “Blame the pain meds, I’ve been popping them like Smints.”

They chatted quietly after that, the four of them just enjoying each other’s’ company without having to talk about work or politics or anything like that. Often Alaska would talk for Sharon, the other woman wearing her oxygen mask and resting. Alaska had phoned Jinkx and texted the comms girls to fill them in on what had happened, after they all basically woke up, saw the headlines and immediately fired off about fifty texts to Alaska, Courtney and Willam (none of which Willam saw, her phone having long since died.). Sharon was annoyed that Jinkx wouldn’t honour her request to bring in her work laptop so she could work from her hospital bed, a request which all three advisors were glad she’d shut down. They were all going to pop in at some point in the evening to visit, Adore and Katya promising to bring what they’d termed as “huge, inconvenient, inflatable balloons”. Willam had told Sharon about the Phi Phi incident, Sharon rolling her eyes almost to the back of her head but refusing to allow herself to get worked up over it.

“That’s a point, actually,” she said, sitting up in bed and wincing slightly at some unseen pain. “Didn’t you say Bianca would be visiting me soon? She’s not been in.”

“Well, she still has to oversee all the other departments. Maybe something’s happened with them?” Courtney offered, Sharon shrugging and conceding.

Around ten minutes later, they had their answer. Bianca came in to Sharon’s room dressed in her usual work attire, ironically all in black. Her face was serious but she had a small, kind smile, and was holding a box of Guiylan pralines.

“Christ, Bianca, I’ve not died,” Sharon laughed by way of a greeting, as Bianca cracked a rare, genuine smile and handed her the chocolates.

“Shut it. Some of us still have to go to work. How are you?”

“Sore.”

“That’s crap, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t swing by earlier. I’ve been at Number 10, I’ve been with the police, I’ve been into Dosac. This might be a bit of good news for you,” she said, addressing the room this time. “The police have apprehended a guy. Old woman who lives in the area had CCTV outside her flat. She came forward with footage of a car going well beyond the speed limit. Matches the time that the whole thing happened. They were able to get a number plate from it and traced it back to the fucker.”

Willam was in shock. She had no idea it would all happen so quickly. Looking at Bianca closely, she could see how puffy her eyes were and how her dark circles had been concealed with foundation, and how much her hands were shaking. It hit her how hard Bianca must have been working to help the police catch whoever had done this to Sharon.

“Thank you, Bianca,” she said, her voice coming out way more emotional than she’d meant it to. Bianca turned to her in surprise, as if she was taken aback slightly.

“Well, I mean, don’t thank me. The police did all the work. They’ll be in to question you, Sharon, but once you’re feeling a bit better. Maybe this evening, or tomorrow.”

“Oh, great. Reliving the moment a car hit me in all its horrifying detail, with the greatest hits of poison pen letters as a follow-up. All my fucky stars have come at once,” Sharon said. Her breathing was becoming laboured, so she put her oxygen mask back on.

“Just keep the damn thing on, you’ve had it off and on like a fucking lightswitch the entire time you’ve been awake,” Alaska chastised her, tucking the hospital blanket in around Sharon. “I’ll maybe see if there’s some way Jinkx can bring in your duvet.”

“You could always go get it for her,” Courtney suggested, Alaska laughing at the ridiculous suggestion.

“Yeah, good one Court, like I’m going to leave her side until she’s discharged.”

Bianca watched the whole exchange carefully, then opened her mouth. “So I take it…that you’re back together.”

Alaska looked at Sharon and nodded.

“You understand that I’m absolutely livid at the pair of you for ever beginning this in the first place and that if it had even got into the media you would have been out of a job?” Bianca said, pointing to Alaska. Alaska blinked and gave a small shrug.

“She would have been worth it,” she said, Willam noticing how Sharon squeezed Alaska’s hand. Bianca fake-gagged.

“Yes, well, in any case, I’m hearing you’ve got plans to stand in the by-election? Is that still happening?” Bianca asked. “Because if it is, then it would make my life a lot easier. There’s not nearly as many implications. In fact you could probably put you two into the public eye. Might be good for the party.”

Sharon wheezed a laugh and Alaska suppressed a smile. “God. Our relationship is literally politically correct. But yeah, I am standing. It’d be good to get some tips from you about that, actually.”

Bianca checked her phone as she spoke. “You don’t need tips. I’ll get you the support you need. Might as well start considering yourself an MP.”

Alaska smiled happily, bringing Sharon’s hand up to her face and kissing it in excitement.

“Although that does mean a position opening up at Dosac. Got anyone in mind, Sharon?”

Sharon sighed exasperatedly, ripping off her mask and gesturing to all her tubes and wires. “Funnily enough, no, I’ve been too busy being a human fucking colander!”

Willam smiled at Sharon knowingly. “I’ve got someone in mind. She’s young, and a bit fucking useless at the moment, but we could train her up. She’s got potential.”

“Well, that seems sorted,” Bianca shrugged. “Right, I’m going to have to make tracks. Flying visit. One of Trinity Taylor’s one night stands has gone to Closer magazine and we can’t risk that getting into the press. But take care, okay?”

Sharon waved a hand. “Thank you, Bianca.”

“No problem. See you later. Willam, can I borrow you for a second?”

Willam’s heart sank as she followed Bianca out of the room. She knew that Bianca was going to ask her if she had anything on Phi Phi. She knew that the photos were still in her phone, burning a hole in her pocket. She knew that Courtney didn’t want her to take the job at Number 10. She knew that her and Courtney weren’t at all official yet.

What she didn’t know was what she was going to do.

They stood at the side of the corridor beside the glass outside Sharon’s room, doctors and nurses hurrying past and completely oblivious to Willam about to make one of the biggest decisions of her life.

“So,” Bianca opened. “If you’ve got anything for me, now is the time to say, because the right-wing media are starting to lap up Phi Phi’s bullshit pretty fucking quickly. It would take a lot of the heat off Sharon if we could just…bury her.”

Willam felt pained. She had completely forgotten about the implications this would have for Sharon.

“So anything at all would be a saving grace,” Bianca finished, looking Willam in the eye and almost triggering a fight or flight response in her.

What would Courtney want her to do? What would Bianca want her to do?

What would Sharon want her to do?

“Um,” Willam swallowed. Her throat was completely dry. “You know, it’s been a rough 24 hours…I haven’t really managed to find anything.” Bianca looked visibly disappointed. “Sorry, Bianca.”

The other woman nodded understandingly. “That’s okay. It has been a rough time. Thank you for looking after her, Willam.”

Willam gave a small smile and without knowing what possessed her, she was speaking again. “Also, Bianca…take me out of the running for the Number 10 job.”

This was the first time Willam had ever seen Bianca look legitimately shocked in her life. Bianca always knew what was going on, she was always so plugged in and in the loop, there was so rarely anything that she didn’t know. So this information was clearly a bombshell. “I mean. I can, but I would also be asking why in the fuck would you want me to do that?”

Willam sighed. “I’m still young. There’ll be other chances to work there and besides, there’s other stuff I want to focus on right now. There’s more to life than politics, I guess.”

Bianca gave a harsh laugh. “Life is politics, Willam.”

“Your life, maybe.”

“Yeah, well,” Bianca exhaled. She had a faraway look in her eyes. “I suppose you’re right about that.”

Willam suddenly heard Courtney laugh through the glass and she involuntarily smiled. She looked back at Bianca, who was looking through the glass.

“Is this because of her?”

Willam looked back at the glass, then cocked her head. “Sort of. It’s for me first, and her second. People spend so much of their lives wishing for better, focusing so much on the future or on the past. Like…what’s wrong with what we have now? You know? Appreciate what you’ve got. Change is good. Except if it’s not. I don’t know, fuck, I’m so tired.”

Bianca nodded slowly, a tiny frown still present on her face. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Honestly, no,” Willam laughed. “But I’m sure I want things to stay as they are, for now. There’s going to be so much change in Dosac. It would be nice for me to stay a constant.”

Bianca gave a small sigh. “Well, I won’t say I’m not disappointed. But good for you, Willam.”

Willam shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll see you, Bianca.”

“See you, Willam.”

As Bianca walked away, Willam thought it was the first time she’d ever seen her look genuinely gutted. It made her feel slightly proud of herself, though she had no idea why. Watching her until she was out of sight, Willam turned back and went back into Sharon’s room.

“Back,” she said. Sharon looked up at her, puzzled.

“What was that all about?” she frowned.

“Wanted to know if I had anything we could use on Phi Phi.”

“And did you?”

Willam looked at Courtney, who seemed frozen. She paused. “No. No, of course I didn’t. Been too busy making sure your dumb fucking roadkill ass is okay, haven’t I?”

As Sharon and Alaska laughed, Willam watched as Courtney’s face lit up. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Willam in a hug. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

“Willam, I’ve been meaning to say. Thank you. For phoning the ambulance,” Sharon said, suddenly serious. Her voice was quiet and her face grave.

Willam reached out and touched her leg lightly. “That’s what best friends do.”

Sharon smiled in gratitude, then gave a yawn. “Sorry to be boring, but I think I need to sleep again.”

“Well, we’ll leave,” Courtney smiled, her voice gentle. “I kind of want to go for a walk round the park. It’s such a nice day. You fancy joining us, Lask?”

Willam barely had time to bask in the use of “us” before Alaska rolled her eyes.

“What part of I’m-not-leaving-Sharon’s-side do you not understand? Go,” she smirked, looking at Willam and Courtney hand in hand. “Be cute and gross.”

Willam smiled at Courtney sheepishly, and Courtney smiled back. She turned back to the other couple in the room. “We’ll be back around dinnertime. Want us to bring you anything?”

“Ugh, a Wasabi please. Lunch was mush, with mashed mush, on a bed of mush. It’s enough to turn me vegetarian,” Sharon shook her head before laying down on her pillow and closing her eyes. “Thanks for coming in. See you later, guys.”

“See you both,” Courtney smied, waving at Alaska as she opened the door and Willam following behind her. Once they were out the room, they had taken a few steps down the corridor before Courtney spoke again. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Willam said as she pressed the button for the lift. She wondered if she should say any more, but thanks was enough, and she decided to leave it. “So. Park then home, then back to see Sharon?”

“Home,” Courtney gave a little smile as she looked at Willam. “Home sounds nice.”

And as the lift doors closed leaving them both sealed up together going down towards the bright Spring day outside, Willam had to agree.

***

Willam woke up in the same bed she’d woken up in in December, and in April, with the same girl she’d woken up with in December and April. Except the circumstances weren’t quite the same. Firstly, Courtney was out of bed before her, and Willam could hear her battering and clanging around in their kitchen together (their kitchen, Willam thought fondly to herself, it would never get old to say their like that). Second, Willam didn’t have any inner turmoil or panicked thoughts or insecurities running around her mind. She was peaceful and calm, and life was good. Sure, Sharon had a fucker of a TV debate coming up the next day, and Willam was afraid that her ribs might re-break at the sheer force with which she was going to shout at Phi Phi O’Hara, but apart from that everything was all just fine. She hadn’t felt this calm in forever. In fact, no, that was a lie. She’d woken up feeling this calm every single day for the past two months since the day she and Courtney walked out of that lift together. Sure, there were one or two blips- the day she’d asked Courtney to be her girlfriend she had woken up completely convinced she was having a heart attack- but that aside, she’d never felt this content.

“Bill!” came a voice from the kitchen. “Put it on!”

Willam sat up, groaned, and rubbed her eyes sleepily. “What channel?”

A frustrated sigh. “It’s Sunday fucking Politics, you know what channel!!”

Laughing, Willam fumbled for the remote on her bedside table, in danger of knocking over many half-empty cups of coffee, and switched the TV on. She hadn’t needed to find the channel as the TV immediately showed her what they were both looking for- Alaska Thunder, MP for West Central London, the first MP to take the seat from Phi Phi O’Hara’s party in 12 years, in her biggest TV interview so far.

“Court, it’s started!” Willam shouted through, hearing a thunder of footsteps in response. Soon enough her girlfriend, her beautiful, tiny, blonde koala girlfriend, emerged from the hallway in her huge flannel Snoopy pyjamas holding two cups of coffee.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” she was saying, reaching over and almost spilling half the coffee on the bright white bedsheets as she half-handed, half-threw it to Willam. “I said to you it bloody started at 5 past 10, and you took the piss out of me!”

“No I fucking didn’t!” Willam cried incredulously, laughing.

“Yes you so did! Meh Courtney, why would a programme start at five past ten that’s such an awkward time, meh meh meh why do you think it’s going to start then, is it because of the time delay? Is it because you’re Australian? Mehhh,” Courtney imitated Willam. Willam went to retort but was immediately shushed by her girlfriend.

“Shut up! I don’t want to miss any more.”

Raja Gemini was asking Alaska a question, and she had her don’t-fuck-with-me face on. “Alaska Thunder, what I’d most like to know is- why were you so strongly in favour of the incarceration of young offenders until last week, when your fiancé Sharon Needles came out in support of rehabilitation? Is this what we can expect from you as an MP, to simply agree with everything your fiancé says?”

“That bitch.”

“Shut up!”

Alaska’s face was calm and amused. “No not at all, Raja, see my change of heart was based on a consultation I had with the Minister for Justice Sasha Coulee-Velour, where she actually presented me with lots of facts and figures as to why rehabilitation produces better results and contributes to a reduction of repeat offenders in society. I then conducted a focus group who pretty much agreed with the Minister, so I have decided to back what is clearly the more well-researched opinion.”

“But isn’t it true that Sharon Needles has held no such focus groups and has point-blank refused to listen to any opposing opinion on the other side? How must that translate to the public?”

Alaska smirked and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know, Raja. If you wanted to ask that question you should have invited her onto your show. You asked for me, you’ve got me, and now you’re asking me about my fiancé? Is this Hello magazine or Sunday Politics?”

Courtney threw her hands up in the air and cheered. “Finish her, Lask!”

Just then, Willam’s phone buzzed. It was a message from Sharon. Willam knew she had taken the morning off to go into the studio and watch Alaska do the interview and was probably hiding behind the cameramen as Alaska and Raja spoke.

S: i say, that’s my baby and i’m really proud

Willam snorted, holding her phone up to show Courtney who laughed in response.

“Fucking hell, who keeps introducing her to memes?” she sighed, pouting as she looked to the TV and saw the interview was coming to a close. “Oh fuck, we missed pretty much the whole thing!”

Willam pulled her into a hug. “Doesn’t matter. We saw the best bit. There’ll be more interviews where that came from. I think Alaska’s making quite the splash.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Courtney smiled, sipping her coffee then sliding off the bed. “What’s our plan for today? We’re meeting Katya and Trixie for lunch, then Adore’s joining for drinks. She said she might bring her girlfriend along!”

“Oh, Aja?” Willam asked, scrolling her phone lazily. “That’s good, she seems nice.”

“Well, I’m going to shower if you need in before me?” Courtney offered, unhooking her towel from the back of their bedroom door.

“Nah, no need. I always just piss in your charcoal water. You’d never taste the difference,” Willam deadpanned, smiling as she watched Courtney laugh and throw a makeup sponge at her from the door.

Courtney was so beautiful, even in her old pyjamas and with her hair hanging messily over her shoulders. Her smile did something to Willam, something she’d never felt before and never wanted to stop feeling ever again. What was the something? Suddenly, it was as if Willam had been struck by a lightning bolt. She knew, but she couldn’t possibly tell her. Not today and not now. It was far too soon, surely?

Then a little voice in her head whispered to her. No more games.

Willam’s voice stopped her just as she was about to leave the room.

“Hey, Courtney?”

#just the game we're in #ortega #australia #crossover #witney #shalaska #twmentionsofinjury #willam belli #courtney act #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #bianca del rio #rpdr fanfiction #jtgwi

[auduna-druitt]

Audie’s End of Year Challenge

Yes, I know it’s only October first but I’m not likely to post another challenge before the year’s end so I’m going with it. I’m really feeling fall this year and want to celebrate with some spooky/cuteness, my birthday is next month, and since there’s only three months left why not throw winter in the mix? 

So, for my 600 follower celebration you, my lovely followers, will be showing me what you’ve got! 

There will be three categories to choose from. Pick your prompt and pick your character or ship from the lists below.

Deadline for sign ups is: November 8th (My birthday)

Deadline for fics/mood boards is: December 31st

For fics please remember to add a read more if it is over 500 words. The tag for the challenge will be #Audie’sEndOfYearChallenge. I’ll make a masterlist of all the fics and moodboards at the end of the challenge. Feel free to send me an ask if you have any questions.

@imoutofmyvulcanmind @outside-the-government @starshiphufflebadger @lurkch @goingknowherewastaken @captainsbabysitter-blog @pinkamour1588 @medicatemedrmccoy @iwillwakeherinthemorning @bookcaseninja @haveyouseenmymind @yallneedtrek

Characters/ships:

Leonard McCoy

Jim Kirk

Steve Rogers

McKirk

Chril

Stony

Stucky x Reader

Fall prompt list:

Poisons, Potions, propositions @outside-the-government McKirk

Moon cycles

Apple Orchard

Beneath the mask

Summoning demons: and other bad first date ideas @hellomissmabel Steve

A different kind of graveyard

Hallowed guests

Candy bowl @bookcaseninja Jim Kirk

Unfinished business

Midnight ball @yallneedtrek Stucky X Reader/ @imoutofmyvulcanmind McKirk

Warm tea, cold kiss

It’s not a costume

Horns

Birthday prompt list:

My friends booked a nice restaurant for my birthday party, but you booked it for your party as well. I guess we have to celebrate our birthdays together now.

It’s my birthday and I want to spend a quiet day at home, I just hope no one’s planning a surprise party. @shitty-imagines-95 Stucky X Reader

There is a pony in my front yard with a pink bow around its head and no, this is NOT the best birthday present ever! @thefanficfaerie Jim and Kitten

We both meet at the bar at a birthday party but we don’t even know who’s birthday it is. I think it’s yours, you think it’s mine.

We were supposed to bring the cake for our mutual friend’s birthday party but we got in a fight over who should carry it to the car and now the cake is on the floor and HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM!

You want me to guess the present you got me and give me ridiculous little clues that make me kinda afraid to even open it,

My birthday party is in full swing but it’s too much for me right now, so I grab a bottle of wine and go up to the rooftop. That’s where you find me eventually. @sofreakinmanyfandoms Steve

After we spent some time at a club to celebrate my birthday my friends are pretty drunk and ask random people on the street to sing for me. You really can’t sing, but maybe I’m drunk too because it sounds perfect to me.

Person A and Person B are total strangers who meet and discover that today is both of their birthdays

Person A throws Person B a huge surprise party with all their friends and all their favorite things

Person A and Person B’s birthdays are the same day (or close) so they decide to have a joint birthday party

Person A’s birthday is February 29th so when it’s finally a leap year Person B throws them a party fit for their age divided by four

Person A was orphaned at a young age and doesn’t know their exact birth date so Person B treats them like every day is their birthday just in case

Winter prompt list:

I slipped on ice outside and you ran over and tried to help but ended up slipping too so now we’re both just kinda lying on the ground @medicatemedrmccoy McKirk

You built an igloo this morning and every time I look out the window you’re just kind of sitting in it doing nothing- are you okay? @haveyouseenmymind McKirk

You were walking your dog by my house and I was aiming to hit the tree behind you with a snowball but I just nailed you in the face I’m sO SORry do you want hot chocolate?? @littlecrazyfangirl-98 McKirk

Would you stop trying to sell the neighborhood kids yellow snow saying it’s a lemon slushee-honestly I don’t know why I married you

a being an ass and putting their cold hands on b’s warm neck @depressedleonardmccoy McKirk

cafeteria tray/cardboard sheet sledding aka how to kiss your datefriend in a snowdrift bc you’re idiots and went flying into one

hey the fire alarm went off at 3am and you ran outside without a coat wanna share my blanket?

decorating wars complete with Too Much Glitter ™

ice skating dates and which one’s kinda unstable and clinging cutely to the other @kjs-s Steve Rogers

“i said UGLY christmas sweaters not nsfw christmas sweaters, we can NOT wear these, my boss will kill me”

“would you like some hot cocoa with your mountain of marshmallows oh my god are you TRYING to put yourself into a sugar coma?"

fireplaces. ‘nuff said. @wintersoldierswhore Stucky X Reader

"what made you think that putting a holiday sweater on our CAT was a good idea? i’ll get the band-aids."

you took me on a cut-your-own-christmas-tree-farm date & holy frick you make a cute lumberjack I WAS UNPREPARED @thefanficfaerie Len and Doll

the power’s out & we’re snowed in, how on earth will we stay warm???

you booked a snowy carriage ride through the park & i’m afraid of horses but you’re excited OH GOD HORSES ARE BIGGER CLOSE UP & GOING TO EAT ME

candy cane sword fights & how quickly they can escalate

your family sucks so you’re kinda meh on holidays, lets make some fun, new traditions together!

we were going to go walking around the neighborhood to see all the pretty lights but you woke up feeling a bit under the weather and not up to being outside in the snow so i snuck out early this morning and made a video of them all for you so you didn’t have to miss out @pinkamour1588 Hiller

Prompts taken from [X] [X] [X] [X] [X]

#Audie'sEndOfYearChallenge #600 follower celebration #winter writing prompts #Birthday writing prompts #Fall writing prompts

[restlessmelodrama]

Say I Never Mattered Chapter 8*:･ﾟ✧

Steve Harrington x Y/N Henderson (Slowburn)

Warnings: mention of domestic abuse, mention of alcohol addiction, angst, swearing

Wordcount: 9.416

Chapter 1  / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 /

Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Playlist ❦  Moodboard

A/N: Hi, I really haven’t updated this in a long ass time, haven’t I?

I’m sorry about that, but to make up for it this Chapter is super long.

I’m glad I took my time to finish writing Chapter 8 because it is going to be the last one. I’m honestly sad, that it’s over and that I have to leave my babies behind, but everything has to end at some point and we’ve reached that point.

Thank you for all your sweet comments and messages, for every single follow like or reblog. I did not think that anyone would read this story but you did and I’m really thankful for it! <33

So, I hope you like the last Chapter as much as the 7 prior ones.

Enjoy reading!

My requests are still open, so if you feel like requesting a plot etc, go ahead!

Disclaimer: Sorry in advance for any grammatical or spelling errors I made, English is not my native language.

...

The sound of the blue Camaro’s engine, everyone in the small town of Hawkins knew by heart by now was still roaring through the street.

The chief came down the few steps leading from that hell house onto the driveway. His step determined.

“He’s got to be involved somehow.“, Hopper whispered angrily, more to himself than to his colleague, as he hurried past him to get to his car, parked a few houses down on Jackson Road.

“Kid usually means trouble. I’m gonna go find out what the hell that was all about.“, he added, now more audible for the confused Officer and also the small audience that had gathered around, the only barrier between them and the Henderson property, the police line, like they were in a civic auditorium in the days of ancient Rome. Hungry for answers.

“What about the kids?”, Powell asked hands on his hips.

“What about them?“, Hopper replied, still walking and trying to seem oblivious to the fact that he had not sent anyone over to the hospital yet.

“Someone needs to go take their statements and see how the girl is doing.“, Powell explained although he knew that the chief was well aware of what he had meant.

Hopper had walked around the car to the driver’s side and stopped there for a moment, his heart skipping a beat when he mentioned you. It took him a few seconds, to gather his thoughts and find the right words to respond. 

“Yeah… Right. Sure. Um, take Callahan with you, I think the State Troopers got it here.“, the chief stammered, nodding and trying to convince himself that he was doing what was best and opened the car door.

“Jim, are you serious? You… know these kids. And Callahan… you know how he can be. Don’t you think they-“, Powell started with frustration in his voice but never got to finish his sentence.

“See you later!“, the chief called out, completely ignoring the fact that he was still being spoken to, by getting in and slamming the door shut behind him, putting the Chevrolet in drive.

“Hopper!“, Powell called out, throwing his hands up in despair as the chief was already halfway down the street.

He turned around to see the neighbours, still standing there, realizing that they had easily followed their conversation and that the gossip about Billy Hargrove being involved in the investigation and the fact that the chief himself was involved with the Henderson family or at least the Henderson kids, would be all over town soon. He took a deep breath to calm himself down before telling them calmly to return back to their homes and give them some space.

The radio was running but stuck between channels, causing this awful white noise that was making the man so anxious, he had to turn it off immediately.

And then the silence kicked in.

He was alone for the first time after getting the horrible message over his radio that had shaken him to his core.

“Report of domestic abuse at 45 Jackson Road-“

Was all he heard before the panic set in and his thoughts were running wild. His movements becoming mechanical, his breathing losing its natural flow. Him just speeding towards the street in the rather run-down part of Hawkins.

The door had been left open. He had run inside. Finding Andrew. Unconscious. In a puddle of blood.

He checked his pulse shouting at the evenly shocked Callahan, who had been with him on patrol when the message came in, to call an ambulance, which Steve had already done, but they didn’t know that yet.

His eyes were wandering around for any evidence indicating what might have happened here when he noticed the knife and the baseball bat on the floor, which in his panicked state he hadn’t before. He manically started checking Andrew everywhere for stab wounds or something, ANYTHING else that could possibly have made him loose so much blood. But he couldn’t find any.

And that’s when it hit him.

He wasn’t standing in Andrews blood.

He was standing in Y/N’s or Dustin’s.

His stomach turned and he walked outside where a few other Police Officers soon to be the whole cavalry had just arrived, with flashing lights but no sirens. No point. No hurry. Callahan catching them up with what he believed to have happened here. The hospital had told the man that an ambulance was already on its way and that three kids coming from that address had arrived in the ER a few minutes ago. One of them with minor injuries, one with none and one with life-threatening ones. The only girl.

Life-threatening.

With that replaying in his head, Hopper started functioning again.

What leads to him now. Driving, Alone.

The thoughts coming back.

His head a storm.

Guilt. It felt like a stone caught in his throat, he kept expecting to choke on, but he didn’t.

He did everything he could have done. Didn’t he?

If he really did…? Everything was still nothing.

He let him hurt you. He should have checked on you more and be more pressuring when it came to talking about him. He should have gotten you out of there. Should have gotten you help. He had known you were afraid of him.

He had seen the fear in your Y/E/C tired eyes in the hospital, when you were tugging on his sleeve, pleading him to stop confronting your abuser. A quiet premonition. Yet, he just left you.

And he was so scared to lose you, that he didn’t dare to check on you now.

He couldn’t even bring up enough courage to drive in the direction of that hospital.

Maybe that was also the reason why he hadn't looked after you more often before.

He appeared to be scared of the ugly truth that was life. But here was the thing, the truth does not change if you ignore it.

He still did… for temporary happiness. It’s in the human nature. People turn blind eyed. No one likes to think about what’s going on behind closed doors. Especially Hopper.

After dealing with Sarah’s death, there had always been darkness around him. Isolating him from everyone, for a long time. And he was working so hard on letting that go, that he wasn’t able…

-No, did not want to see how lost you were and how a former friend of his had been this monster all along. Now he was wrapped up in this darkness all over again.

The thought of losing you crossed his mind and he was about to pull over, tears forming in his eyes when he spotted the Camaro parked on the side of the intersection of Cornwallis and Kerley, the boys had named Mirkwood.

Right, this moment his guilt suddenly turned into anger. His knuckles turning white around the steering wheel as he was slowly driving towards the empty car.

...

The waiting room of the ER was packed at this point. Mostly older people, shooting the two distraught looking boys weird or pitiful looks. Dustin sat in a chair in the corner of the room, that to Steve was beginning to feel smaller, darker and sadder per second. The curly haired boy had taken his shoes off and was reading the new Spider-Man comic. Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1) #258, he had told Steve proudly. He had read most of the earlier editions and was obsessed with the series. Reading it now he almost looked content, which was a small relief for Steve. The comic was, what Dustin had brought with him, from the cafeteria, along with a cup of coffee for the older boy. Steve was sitting in the same corner of the room but on the cold floor next to a vending machine. His head was pounding. He felt a little drowsy.

Mrs. Morgan had insisted on him getting medical attention before she had to leave and he ended up getting stitches on his forehead and a wrist splint.

He was taking the last sip of his already cold coffee. Normally he jugged any type of liquid containing caffeine in under two minutes. But not in this case. Dustin had put sugar in it, which was way too sweet for his taste. But the little dork had looked happy being able to do something for his friend, that Steve did not have the heart to tell him that. So his coffee was cold now, almost as cold as the floor.

Dustin was going on about Peter Parker’s costume being revealed to be a living symbiotic creature, attempting to bond to him permanently when the door to the waiting room opened and Joyce Byers and  Nancy Wheeler came walking in.

Dustin sprung to his feet as soon as he spotted them and ran over, immediately being engulfed into a tight hug.

“Oh Honey…“, Joyce croaked out, brushing through Dustin’s messy hair and pressing a kiss on his forehead.

Steve got up as well, abandoning his cup on the floor and walking towards them. Nancy met him halfway and they stood still for a moment, sharing a look that was contorted with pain. Nancy taking in every single detail of the one she thought she had formerly loved. Despite the fact that she had come clean about the lie she had held up so long, a few weeks ago, Steve obviously still meant a lot to her and seeing him standing there covered in blood. Your blood. She just wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. The moment seemed endless to Steve but eventually, Nancy let out a sad sigh and broke the distance between them, pulling her former lover into a hug as well. She smelled of vanilla, which he knew was her shampoo. And it felt so familiar and warm. The arguments they’ve had suddenly didn’t seem to matter anymore.

He was glad she was there. When they pulled away Joyce and Dustin stood next to them and the woman reached out to take Steve’s hand. She pressed it lightly and locked eyes with the teen,

“How is she?“, she asked voice shaking, the question pulling Steve back to reality…

“We… don’t know yet. They haven’t talked to us. They immediately took her to surgery, when we got here and… they aren’t back yet.“, Steve responded gulping and anxiously licking his lips.

Everyone kept silent for a minute, eyes pinned to the floor.

“What… what happened, Steve?“, Nancy broke the silence, nervously.

Steve sighed, not ready to explain it once again. He had left them and everyone else a message on their answering machines explaining where they were and that your father was the reason for that. They practically knew already but he guessed they needed confirmation that this wasn’t just a bad dream. That this was intoxicatingly prosaic.

“I think we should head outside to talk.“, Steve suggested, not wanting everyone in the waiting room to listen to their conversation. There was going to be enough talk about it and he did not feel the need to stir the fire.

Joyce agreed. And they headed down the hall in the direction of the next exit, while Nancy and Dustin stayed behind since the boy had to put his sneakers back on, first.

“Where is everyone?“, Steve asked sounding beat while walking through the white-tiled hallway.

“Jonathan is with the kids and Kali. I don’t know, if you-“, Joyce tried to answer, but was interrupted, “Yeah, I- uh I heard.“, he cut her off.

He wasn’t ready to deal with anything other dimensional right now since he already felt like worlds had collided and he had ended up in a totally different dimension than he’d been in this morning. His very own Upside-Down.

They fell back into an uncomfortable silence for the rest of the short walk.

“Was Hopper here?“, Joyce wanted to know as they reached the exit.

Steve pushed open the door, holding it so Joyce could walk through first.

He followed closely behind.

“Um, no. He wasn’t. Actually, no one from the department was.

They haven’t even taken our statements yet.“, Steve stated, clenching his jar. He was frustrated. No one seemed to care enough to come by. It had been hours since and they hadn’t even received a call.

“Maybe Jim is dealing with Andrew…“, Joyce set up a theory, obviously trying to soothe him, noticing how tense he got.

“Yeah, maybe.“, Steve sighed, deciding at the same moment that it was better to just let it go.

...

Hopper had made his way out of the car and passed the empty, blue Camaro. He had glanced inside, seeing the keys still in the ignition. Untypical. Billy Hargrove worshipped the vehicle and to leave it like that was very out of character. The chief took a look around but didn’t see a sign of the teen, so he decided to follow the little trail, right next to the parked car, leading into the forest. It was unlikely that Billy went any further than this, with his car unlocked, waiting to be stolen. The trail was muddy in places and he watched his step, seeing were boots had slipped, erasing the traces of footprints laid before.

And indeed after a few meters, Hopper began to hear dull sounds he couldn’t quite make out. Moments after, he spotted the Hargrove boy.

Billy was hammering his fists against an old oak tree with full force, letting out grunts.

Hopper stood for a second, confusion on his features. It was like watching a car accident. You want to stop staring, but you can’t. Only when Billy winced in pain, he decided he had seen enough.

He whistled and proceeded to yell, “Hargrove! What the hell are you-“ His words were stuck in his throat, when Billy turned around tears streaming down his face, chest heaving like he had just run a marathon.

Billy couldn’t make out who the man was at first until his vision focused and he let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head,

“Of course, the chief of police followed me here. What else is new!“, he snorted in a cocky tone.

Billy’s knuckles were bleeding, his eyes red and swollen. His denim jacket torn on his underarm. The sight of that made the chief push his anger aside.

“You wanna tell me what happened?“, Hopper asked slowly walking towards the mullet-headed emotional mess of a boy.

“I sure don’t want to.“, Billy responded laughing, towering over the chief, thin and sharp-looking, as though you got to close to him, you’d cut yourself.

Hopper was about to roll his eyes, feeling the anger burn up again when Billy’s smile dropped slowly, and he added, “But, I’m gonna.“, feeling acutely the sharp shame of his actions washing over him.

...

“Alright that would be all“, Callahan exclaimed closing his notebook and patting Dustin on the shoulder while flashing him a bright smile. Both him and Steve gave him displeased looks as he got up to leave the room. He waited for his partner to do the same, but Powell tilted his head down, signalizing him to leave without him. So, he shrugged his shoulders and did, whistling some happy tune.

Powell was still sitting at the table across from them.

Dustin opened his mouth only to close it again, like a fish, so caught off guard by the officer's lack of empathy.

“I’m sorry, he isn’t the most thoughtful person around.“, Powell sighed, apologizing for his colleague’s indifferent behavior.

“No shit.“, Steve whispered in response.

When they’d shown up, he’d been glad that someone finally was there to take their statements but he had expected that someone to be Jim Hopper. This felt important enough for Hopper to at least drop by. But apparently, it wasn’t.

While Steve was fuming about how the situation was handled, Dustin had other concerns,

“And he really is fine?“, he asked for the fourth time, guilt in his voice.

“Small concussion and a cut over one of his eyes. Nothing too bad, don’t worry and don’t you feel guilty. You made the right call. You were just protecting your sister“, Powell tried to console the kid.

The boy nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Steve’s eyes were wandering back and forth between them. He was still speechless about how these people behaved. Like this was some all day, everyday procedure. They were only another day to them. They acted like everything was just fine, like you were just fine, not ringing for your life.

And Hopper not being there was the cherry on top.

He wanted to scream at the man in front of him, but he swallowed his anger, and settled for, “More importantly where is the asshole and who is making sure he’s staying there and not coming here?“

But the officer was still able to hear the hostility in Steve Harrington’s voice and gave him a depreciating look while crossing his arms over his chest and answering in a more determined tone,

“He was brought to a hospital a few towns over. A few state troopers went-“, he started only to be interrupted by the now visibly angry brunett, “State Troopers?!“, he laughed,

“Where the hell is Hopper than?“

Steve stood up from the table throwing his hands up in despair before running them quickly over his face and groaning. This wasn’t real.

They were in the same quiet room again, where he sat with the social lady before and he felt trapped. Too much was on his shoulders. He felt like breaking down, but there was Dustin, sitting next to him and he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t cry anymore and he really shouldn’t start a fight with a police officer. At the same time he knew that he couldn’t keep it together for much longer and again he began to wonder how in the world you did exactly that, for all those years.

How did you manage to cope with all that?

Without letting your grades slip.

Without missing work…

Or forgetting someone's birthday.

How the fuck did you manage to listen to Steve’s and everyone else’s whining without flipping your shit because you had it so much worse?

Everything in him started burning at the thought of that and it was as if a vice was pressing against his temples, threatening his sanity.

“You need to calm down.“, Powell said calmly, watching Steve dig his nails into his scalp,

“The chief… he-… he’s following a different lead.“

That’s when Steve snapped. The last bit of will to keep it together for Dustin evaporated at this statement.

“A DIFFERENT LEAD?“, he screamed slamming his hands down on the table.

“YOU HAVE TWO WITNESSES, ONE PERP, AND ONE-…“, he stopped, catching his breath and lowering his voice, “…one victim!“, he hissed.

“So, what do you mean… a different fucking lead? The case is pretty clear! Or isn’t it?“

“Yes, but..“, Powell sighed again and Steve began to wonder if the guy was able to do anything else, “I can’t tell you much…, he added.

“This is an ongoing police investigation. I’m sorry, kid.“

“An ongoing police investigation, I am part of!

FUCK THAT! I’m out of here!“, Steve yelled before rushing out, the door slamming shut behind him.

Leaving the heavy-hearted Dustin and a speechless Officer behind.

Steve ran through the long hall, passing by the waiting room where Joyce and Nancy were sitting and going straight for the staircase. He went up a story and opened the door leading into, yet another white-tailed hallway. He felt claustrophobic, this place slowly began to seem like a maze, he wasn’t sure he would be able to escape. He began to spin in a circle until his eyes meet what he was searching for: the sign “Smoker’s Corner“ and he started walking towards it.

A few seconds later he pushed outside onto the small patio he had found you on, the last time you were here and sat down in the same place you had.

He closed his eyes and brought his hands, covered in the soft fabric of his hoodie to his face, as the tears began to fall. Letting his breath, he didn’t realize he was holding escape his lungs. He couldn’t breathe in this goddamn place, his chest felt like sand.

...

Billy came clean to Hopper about everything, starting with that party and him touching you inappropriately the next day to make you afraid of him and to never, on any account, let his power and superiority be underestimated again, showing his rampant chauvinism.

And finally hearing from Reed about the complicated relationship you had with your father and how he felt about you dating someone; him driving to the “Hideaway“, one of the few bars in the county;

And lying to the man with the watery eyes, a slight tremor in his hands about your relationship to Steve Harrington. And how his reaction made him think of his dad on those days where he needed to keep his voice and head down to survive.

Hopper was so close to choking Billy until he mentioned his own father and despite the hatred, the chief felt towards the teen, everything suddenly made sense. Billy Hargrove was a victim as well. He had become like the very person who wrecked him. He had grown into someone he swore he’d never be and Hopper felt bad for him but still angry and sick about what he had done. And there would be consequences to his actions but right now the troubled teenager needed help. Not “tough love“, like lots of abusive parents like to put it. Not another bad example of toxic masculinity and anger management issues.

“Please… Say Something!“, Billy cried out.

Hopper didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything yet. And he certainly didn’t know how he was supposed to tell him what was on his mind without letting him off the leash easily and without any yelling?

He took a step towards him. Billy fully preparing himself to be physically attacked, but not even flinching because he felt like he deserved what was going to happen to him. For the first time, he really deserved it. Whatever it would be.

But instead, the chief spoke in a soft tone, “You really screwed up, kid. You really, really did and there are going to be consequences for what you have done…, he sighed, “But we’re going to fix this.“

Billy Hargrove stood still in disbelief. He didn’t understand.

“You hear me? It’s not too late to turn your life around. To not become like your old man.

I believe you’re not a bad person, Billy. I think you’re someone who lost track of what’s right or wrong over the course of time you only experienced “wrong“.

You were honest with me today and you showing remorse, speaks for your character.

It’s going to be hard, but we’re gonna deal with this. The right way.“, Hopper finished.

He slightly squeezed the boys shoulder. And Billy’s tears started falling again. It had really taken all of Hopper to not bury the boy two feet under right then and there, but this was the right choice.

He had gotten through to him. Finally, someone had.

...

“I kissed her.“, Steve spat out when the silence became unbearable.

He tilted his head to look at the surprised, curly-haired girl sitting next to him.

“Oh… wow.“, Nancy croaked out, having forgotten to clear her throat before speaking.

Certainly not what she had expected him to say.

“Yesterday.“, he said a gentle smile playing on his lips, his brown eyes finding their warmth again for a millisecond.

It hadn't been scary to Nancy to see his expression so cold and bitter earlier because it was the way he had looked at her for the last few weeks after she had drunkenly dropped the “I-don’t-love-you-bomb“ on him. What scared her today was how dead his eyes looked. The one’s normally so warm they were able to light up a whole room when you were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of them.

But now talking about you, that light came back. And it became clear to Nancy that Steve was moved on as well and her heart felt a little lighter.

“And did she kiss you back?“, Nancy asked, bumping his shoulder, grinning sheepishly.

It took Steve a few seconds to respond.

And again a smile brightened up his features, “… She did.“

But this time it hurt. Because this smile was almost nostalgic.

Nancy knew he thought he would never get to kiss you again and she felt the tears build up in her eyes, but she bit them back, wrapping her arm around the much taller boy's shoulders and resting her head against his. Reaching for his bruised hands with her free one.

...

You remember lights above you, bright as suns, the sound of beeping that never seemed to stop.

You had stared at these lights so hard, dark clouds were forming over your eyes.

You couldn’t remember where you were for a moment. You starred at the sterile bright ceiling looking for triggers.

And than it all came back faintly.

It all happened lightening quick.

He came home.

He started screaming.

He grabbed you.

The floor.

A knife.

Everything going black, every time he… What did he do?

The pain being unbearable.

Muffled voices.

His weight disappearing off you, once.

Him coming back.

Your brothers terrified eyes appearing over the man’s shoulder and than the bat in the air.

His weight disappearing for the second time.

Hands wrapping around your upper body.

Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

Yelling.

Outside.

Inside.

Yelling.

Car engine.

Inside again.

Lights.

Bright Lights.

“Y/N Henderson, HER NAME! Y/N Henderson.“

Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

His hand leaving your’s.

Darkness.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

A hand on your shoulder.

You flinched, so afraid it was him, but the hand immediately disappeared.

“Y/N? I’m sorry.“, you melted when you recognized his voice and his head appeared in your sight. Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

His eyes were red and his hair messy. He hadn’t slept in a long time.

“Every- Everything is alright. You’re safe. I’m- I’m here.“, Steve cried out.

A small smile settling on his features.

He was desperate for your touch but he did not want to scare you.

A tear escaped his eye’s and landed on your cheek, the salty warmth bringing reality back.

Reality doesn’t wait until your ready. It’s like a persistent mosquito determined to suck your blood. You weren’t ready for it yet but reality was ready for you.

So, you found Steve’s hand and pressed it as hard as you could loud sobs escaping your throat.

He kneeled down beside the bed and pressed his forehead against yours. In this moment Steve felt whole again. And you sat there crying for what felt like hours.

Which in reality were only a few minutes, when your brother and some nurses arrived.

Dustin taking Steve’s place. Your body erupting into trembles, like millions of earthquakes were hitting you at the same time.

Your breath kept catching in your throat, but you croaked out,“I love you. I love you so much.“

You gasped and more earthquakes erupted through your blood, while the boys were both sobbing next to you.

When the doctors came they sent Steve and Dustin out. Letting go of Steve’s hand was one of the hardest things you ever had to do.

Your body felt cold after you had lost contact with his soft skin.

And you were lingering after his touch.

While the doctors told you everything and made sure you were alright, the waiting room erupted into tears of joy and relief.

Hopper, Nancy, and Jonathan, Will, Mike, Max, and Lucas were all there.

And Joyce was soon to be as well since they had trusted Billy to stay with El and Kali.

Weird, right?

Here’s everything you missed:

Day 1:

After Steve had talked to Nancy on the patio, a nurse came to tell them that you were stable but not awake yet. The amount of relief washing through everyone’s bodies had been overwhelming, but with that, another waiting game had begun.

Hopper had taken Billy to the police station, to take his statement and then had dropped him off at the Byer’s place, so someone would have an eye on him and he didn’t have to go home, while the chief drove down to the hospital, finally having gathered enough courage to.

When he arrived. Steve and Hopper had gotten into a fight. Hopper told him that he had suspected that something was a little off in the Henderson household and admitted that he knew about your father’s alcohol abuse.

“You knew?!“, Steve had screamed at him.

“I- No. I just… I wasn’t sure.��, the man answered tears threatening to fall.

“Well, why didn’t you make sure?!“, Steve yelled.“

“I don’t know… I don’t know.“, Hopper cried out, adding, “But you can’t tell me you were completely oblivious to the fact that something was wrong. You must have noticed something as well.“

And Steve had left him then and there standing in the middle of the parking lot, everything growing over his head.

The teenager had been awfully quiet towards Hopper since than and had only heard of Billy’s involvement on hearsay account. He was not at all surprised by that and he didn’t have it in him to hear about the reasons behind it. The only thing he could focus on was you and his guilt eating him alive.

Day 2:

Hopper had tried to apologize to Steve for making him feel like he any had guilt to carry.

But had only received a cold stare back.

Meanwhile, Dustin had left with Joyce to take a shower, get some fresh clothes for him and Steve and to sleep for a little while on something more comfortable than a chair in a waiting room.

They had also gone to the police station to pick up his walkman and your favorite book, he had asked Powell to get.

A few hours later, Dustin had been listening to your favorite Queen cassette while Steve was reading through the book finally understanding why you liked it so much. He had never read a something faster. Normally he’d get tired of it after two or three pages but he felt like he was keeping a piece of you close to him while reading your favorite story. He’d even been surprised at how early it still was when he finished it. The only times he had looked up while reading was when a nurse walked by. Him giving them a questioning look and them shaking their head with a sad smile on their lips. Nancy’s comforting hand on his knee, a small smile thrown in her direction, so she knew he was alright and then back to reading.

Between the last page and the cover of the book were your polaroids and he took them out smiling. He handed Nancy the one with her, Barbara and Y/N, and Dustin the one of him as a baby and the one of the party on Halloween this past year. Steve stared at the one of you two sleeping on his cousin’s couch and he thought of that whole trip. The memory of it led to him to letting out a laugh, grabbing the others attention. “Where was that?“, Max had asked.

“In Chicago at my cousin's house. That was our last day there. I remember she was acting a little weird and when we went to go to sleep she asked if she could sleep on the couch with me instead of the blow-up mattress. My cousin took the picture when he left for work around 4 am waking us both.“, his smile grew wider and wider while telling the story.

Nancy had bitten down on her lip, thinking that, that must have been the day you had told her about.

“You went to a dance together?“, Will wanted to know while looking at the other pictures in awe.

“Yeah, a snowball. In fact our very first one“, Steve had let him know, his gaze and smile dropping.

A few minutes later the kids were occupied with deciding what they wanted to eat since Hopper had offered to take them all to Benny’s Burgers when Nancy asked Steve if they could talk outside for a minute.

They headed to the small patio again and Nancy began telling Steve something you had entrusted her with and she’d swore she’d never tell.

“You remember, that one summer Y/N basically lived in the library?“, Nancy started.

“Yeah, of course, I remember. I barely saw her for months. I had to drag her out of that place every few days because she had forgotten that we wanted to meet up.“, he chuckled, adding,“Why are you asking?“

“Well, I spent an awful lot of time there too and I noticed very quickly that she wasn’t reading something for class or any other normal book. She was searching through newspapers from Chicago…“, Nancy told him, pausing a few seconds to wait for his reaction. Maybe he already knew.

But he looked confused, “What? Why would she do that?“, he asked furrowing his brows.

“That’s what I wondered as well and when I went over there to ask her about it, I startled her and she hid her notebook behind her back, clearly searching for a quick lie to answer with. But after a few seconds had passed she seemed to decide that I caught her and there really was no point in lying. So, she told me…

She was searching for her mother.“, Nancy explained.

“Oh god“, Steve sighed. Another memory of you falling apart. “Do you know, if she ever found something?“

Nancy nodded, “Yes, she found a wedding announcement. Her mother had remarried.“

Steve closed his eyes letting out a sigh. His chest was heavy again. He felt so sorry for you.

“But that’s not the end of it“, Nancy interrupted Steve’s thoughts, “I don’t know how she knew her mom was in Chicago or how she contacted her, but after you came back she showed up at my house crying and telling me she went to meet her.“

Steve starred at Nancy with wide eye’s. How didn’t he know? Why didn’t you tell him?

“She said that I was the only person who knew anyway and that she didn’t want to ruin your trip, by telling you.“, the curly haired girl said, knowing that Steve would ask himself that sooner or later.

He took a deep breath before asking, “So how… how did it go?“

...

You were so nervous, you’d bought a train ticket the day before. And had told Steve that you were going to get takeout while he was catching up with his aunt who was visiting as well.

You hadn’t spoken to your mother since she had left but you’d been able to find out where she worked now and you were on your way there to talk to her. You truly missed your mom, even though missing her felt more like anger than sadness. You had all those scenarios in your head how this could go. How you’d feel when you’d see her, how she would react. But you were in no way prepared for what was actually going to happen. You got off the train and immediately spotted the small café your mother supposedly worked at. You were so anxious, your panic became as large as planets standing up front. You needed release and finally dared to head inside.

It was bigger than it had looked from the outside. It was actually kind of nice. But you didn’t have a lot of time to take in all the details. You were interrupted by a familiar friendly voice behind you, “Hi, how can I help you?“

You turned around slowly. You felt like you saw a ghost.

She looked better. Healthier. She was dressed nicely and her hair was up in a tight bun.

It took her a few seconds to recognize you since you were wearing sunglasses and you had swiftly blossomed into adolescence like it was a trifle. The only thing that had seemingly been easy on you. “Hi, mom“, was the only thing you brought out. She was staring at you thunderstruck. Her smile had dropped. “What are you doing here?“, she whispered angrily, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. Your words started slipping away. Was she really mad at you for looking for her? Inside your pockets, your hands started trembling. She looked around the room apparently making sure you weren’t watched before she pulled you outside. The closer you got to her, the less you felt yourself. If she’d only smile, or hug you or ask how you’ve been. How you got here. If you were okay, alone, safe. Anything. But she said nothing. She was just staring you down.

“I don’t have any money right now.“, was the first thing that she spat out, lighting a cigarette.

You were about to cry already. She seemed so cold. She didn’t care for you.

“I don’t want any money, I-“, you tried to tell her, but were interrupted, “What else do you want that makes you think showing up here is okay?“, she said into her chest. You gulped. You really didn’t want her to see you cry. It felt wrong to let her see.

“I saw that you married… some guy and that you lived here now and I… I wanted to see how you were and ask you-“, you took a deep breath trying not to cry or scream at her, “why you left us and if you were planning on ever talking to your kids again?“

She took a step towards you and for a second you thought she might actually hug you. You were almost as tall as she was, now.

She reached in her pocket and took out an envelope. You didn’t take it so she grabbed your hand and curled your fingers around the edges.

“What is this?“, you asked confused.

“500 dollars. That’s all I have. I meant to deposit it later.“, she told you.

“Mom I-“, you tried to interrupt, but she just continued, speaking a lot louder this time,

“You are going to take that. Get on the next train. Get your ass back home and never return here. Do you understand me? I have a new life now and I don’t need none of you try and ruin it. I don’t want you showing up again. This is as far as I go, Y/N.“

You were standing there, speechless.

She took a last pull from her cigarette and crushed it under her sneakers.

She didn’t look up at you again and you weren’t able to look at her for too long, tears threatening to fall. Your vision became blurry.

“We all know it’s better that way. That’s just not us. We don’t work out. Just try not to fuck up your brother’s life too, okay?“, she said.

And just like that she started to walk away but turned suddenly, wrapping her arms around you and you thought she’d at least want to hug you goodbye but she pressed her mouth against your ear, whispering, “Come back here and you don’t leave with 500 Dollars, you leave with less you came with. Be smart.“

“You were always so smart”, she added brushing her fingers through your hair.

Then she was gone and your body grew hot, hot as you stood there on the urge of tears. The emptiness of the world, so huge, and so small, all at once.

You took it all in and promised yourself to never embarrass yourself like that again, by coming here and to never let your brother know. The pain of growing up in this family had already been enough, he didn’t have to know about your mother and her new life, she desperately tried to keep you out of.

You looked at the envelope in your hands. You thought about going back in there and throwing it in her face, screaming at her, letting her know how you felt. Instead, you took out a 20 dollar bill and shoved the envelope in your backpack, before walking towards a Chinese restaurant with the huge sign “takeout“, half a block down, risking one last look at your mother who was standing behind the bar, smiling like nothing had happened. And you finally let the sobs escape.

Those 480 dollars was the first money you put away for your brother's college savings.

...

“And I think she never heard from her since“, Nancy sighed after telling Steve every detail she remembered.

“Thanks for telling me, Nance. I guess, I really don’t know anything about her.“, he let out a sad chuckle.

The two teenagers talked to Mrs. Morgan about the situation with your mother that afternoon and she decided that it was better to leave her out of this for now.

...

It was 5:30 pm on the dot when the nurse’s head shaking turned into a nodding and they were finally able to see you.

Steve took your hand that night and didn’t let go until the next morning when he was sent away because they had to change your bandages.

The light had buzzed over your heads, illuminating your skin, pale and grey.

Steve could hear you breathing evenly, above the sound of the buzzing lights.

He gazed down at you and he was sure he could wake you up when he just called your name loud enough. He waited for your eyes to flick open, but they didn’t.

Sitting outside with the others his eyes were dry and his throat empty. The only thing he could think about was your stupid fight and how much time that seemingly had cost you, although it was just a couple of days, it felt like you had missed lightyears. You were so stupid for being apart.

Day 3:

Hopper took Steve’s place for a couple of hours while he drove home to change and shower.

He walked into an empty house. As always.

The first thing he did was check the answering machine.

“No new messages.“

So, they had heard about what happened. Yet, they just ignored it their son’s frantic messages.

His next destination was the kitchen because his mom sometimes had the decency to at least leave him little notes.

“Hope you and your friend feel better. If anything comes up, call Dad’s lawyer. We’re in NYC for a while. Love you. L.H“

There it was neatly pinned to the fridge…

...

Joyce had read some of  “84, Charing Crossroad“ to you, although the doctor’s told her that you definitely didn’t hear any of it. Fiat least it made her feel better and Dustin fall asleep.

Around lunch, Powell had dropped by to update the chief on Andrew Henderson. He was remaining in custody until there’d be a trial, he was refusing to speak to them and he had asked for a lawyer and a beer.

Billy had called the hospital a few times asking about you. They always told him that they couldn’t give him any information about you and that he should talk to your relatives. But he didn’t dare to show up, which seemed like a good choice.

And in the evening you had finally woken up. Steve by your side.

Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

...

Your wounds were healing slowly. You had spent almost a month in the hospital. You were lucky, the doctors had told you. Not what you necessarily would call a person that had just been stabbed eleven times by their own father, but you went with it. The knife didn’t hit any vital organs so there wouldn’t be permanent damages. When you were discharged Steve came to pick you up, you were still a bit wobbly on your legs, so he let you lean against him until you got to the exit, where he stopped in his tracks, “You ready to go home?“, he asked, his lips curling up into a gentle smile.

Home. That word meant something entirely different to you now and it was a good thing. You grinned back, “Yes.“

That’s all Steve needed to here. He swooped you off your feed and carried you to his car.

“Harrington, let me go!“, you laughed.

“If I let you walk we’re here till tomorrow morning because I parked all the way back there and someone surely wouldn’t appreciate me bringing you back after curfew on the first fucking day. I had to beg, to pick you up. Not kidding.“, he chuckled, but then added, “Besides, I’ll never let you go again.“

You gave him a warm smile before pressing your lips against his. You feel the sparks go off.

...

On your way home, you passed Jackson Road.

Steve took your hand.

Passing the house, you felt like an electrical wire was strung tight through your whole body and you weren’t sure if you ever would be able to go back inside.

...

Hoppers car was the first thing you spotted.

“Is this it?“, you asked.

“Yeah, It’s really pretty here. Really quiet. I think that’s why he couldn’t bare living here alone.“, Steve answered, pulling into a small driveway.

You looked into the window and there was your brother giving you a big smile and waving excitedly. Then his head disappeared and the front door opened. The man stepped outside and gave you a small smile as well, making this really warm feeling rise in your chest. It only lasted a few seconds because Steve ripped the door of the red BMW open, the cold December air engulfing you in seconds.

...

“Welcome home, Y/N.“, he welcomed you in.

You couldn’t help but hug him tightly, tears welling in your Y/E/C eyes, “Thank you, Jim. For… for everything.“

...

Hopper had done everything in his power from the moment on you had told him that you would be happy to live with him, to make that happen.

From countless meetings, with Mrs. Morgan to moving back into the house, his daughter had taken her last breath.

And it had all worked out.

A few weeks ago on a Wednesday morning, Dustin, El, and Hopper came to visit you in the hospital.

Dustin was waving around a color chart.

“What do you think? Eggshell or Lavender?“, your brother asked snobbishly.

“What do you mean?“, you laughed.

“For your new room of course!“, he blurted out a bit too excited.

You had been caught off guard. Your mouth agape, your eyes were wandering between Hopper, El and your brother that were all smiling like maniacs.

“Oh my god!“, you cried out, realizing what was going on.

“We get to live with you?“

“Yes, I got the papers this morning.“, Hopper announced happily.

At this point, you were just sobbing. Tears of joy.

...

Christmas had passed by really quickly. You had had a family dinner. Which from now on consisted of Hopper, El, Dustin, you and… Kali. A friend of El’s who was visiting from Sweden, you were told. Steve was there too. He had lunch with his parents and decided that he was coming over for dinner.

He even was allowed to stay the night, as long as you kept the door to your room open. That had ended up being painted in a soft lavender.

Hopper passing through the hall, every few minutes.

“It’s kind of crazy“, you chuckled.

“What?“, Steve asked.

“We could have had so many of those nights in the other house“, you started, “…also more private ones“, you added laughing and kissing Steve’s neck playfully. He laughed pulling you closer.

“Yeah, but it just way. And that is okay. We have each other now.“, he said his eyes finding yours.

“Yeah we do“, you whispered.

A few seconds of silence followed before you heard Hopper coming down the hall again.

“But I also have this guard dog listening to everything we’re saying outside now!“, you added loud enough for him to hear.

“Hey!“, Hopper exclaimed, “I’m not listening to what your saying… I’m listening to know when you stop. Keep on talking! Keeps you two busy.“, he mumbled going back to his spot down the hall in the living room.

You two erupted into laughter.

Steve stopped abruptly, catching your attention.

You stared in his warm, brown eyes, that felt like sunshine and he stared into your Y/EC ones.

“I love you.“, he sighed happily.

And your heart fluttered.

YES. YES. YES. That’s all you had been wanting to hear, and all he’d been wanting to say since the moment you opened your eyes in the hospital.

“I love you too.“, you answered.

...

One month later.

You were nervously fiddling on the hem of your black wrap dress, starring in the mirror. All you wanted to do was hide in a hoodie and your sweatpants.  Make coffee and crawl back into your cozy bed with Steve. But you couldn’t not today. Your brother’s appeared behind you in the mirror. He was wearing a navy blue suit, a black tie, and a white button-down, his usually messy hair combed back and gelled to his head.

He smiled and stretched his hand out towards you. You intertwined your fingers with his, your hand cold and shaking.

“We got this.“, Dustin said in a soft voice. “It’ll finally be over tonight.“

You nodded, taking a deep breath, before turning around to hug Dusty.

“You’re right. We got this. We got us.“, you whispered.

The drive was silent. Hopper and Dustin sat in the front, you and Steve, who was wearing a navy blue suit as well, sat in the back seat.

When Hopper pulled up into the parking spot, you froze. You felt the panic rising inside of you.

But you got out of the car anyway. This would over by tonight, you kept thinking.

Just one more day and you never had to see him again.

In the hall, you saw a familiar face. Billy had just walked around the corner on the other end.

He stopped when he noticed you. He had cut his hair short and was also in a suit.

He gave you a small wave and you could feel Steve tense up next to you, but you held him back.

You smiled at him, gently.

When Hopper told you about his situation and how everything was being handled, you decided to allow yourself to forgive him and it had been easier than you expected.

Billy was going to anger management classes and he was put in other therapy. He also had to do a shit-ton of hours of community service at the Police station and Mrs. Morgan was checking in on him and his family every few weeks. He was on his way to get better and who were you to let any of that stand in the way of his and your healing process. Steve had a harder time with just letting it go through.

...

You sat down in the courtroom. You had been able to give your statement the day before, without Andrew Henderson’s presence and so did Steve and Dustin.

So, you all got to sit next to everyone else.

The judge came in and you all stood up. You were nervously biting your lip.

He said a few opening words and you got to sit down again.

Everything around you drawn out, until you heard his name and the doors opened, to reveal the man you were so afraid of. The air was caught in your throat and you had to look at him. You had to.

He had gotten even thinner, he almost disappeared in his big suit. His face all sunken in.

And then his gaze fell on you. You felt like you were choking.

Just for a minute, you thought you saw something, some wave of emotions, flit across his face.

In his eyes was something you had never seen before. Not on him. It took you a few seconds to recognize it for what it was.

Remorse. Regret.

You wanted to scream. Everything hurt.

You felt like you couldn’t make it through.

But then Steve’s hand was on your’s and you turned to look at him into his beautiful eyes.

And the sunshine feeling came back, once again drawing everything else out.

You did not know how, but his touch made you feel less torn.

You weren’t sure what peace felt like but at that moment you thought it must feel a lot like him.

...

Andrew Henderson pleaded guilty in all charges.

You couldn’t believe it and so couldn’t his assigned attorney, who honestly looked really relieved about it.

Your father looked small up there, so pathetic.

He’d always been cigarettes and whiskey.

Dirty white shirts and the couch he was always passed out on.

He was Y/E/C eyes and scratchy cheek stubble.

He was days of not getting up of the floor, days of screaming or scary silence.

Yet, somehow he had looked the most pathetic you ever seen him at that moment when he did the right thing for the first time. Maybe because it looked like it was killing him.

...

It felt weird.

It really was over now.

You had never thought that that moment would come and it took you a few seconds to realize that was it. The moment you had dreamed off, you watched thunderstruck as he was being cuffed and escorted out without looking at you again.

On the way out everyone congratulated you on winning, tears were shed and you couldn’t help but smile. You were free everything was about to get so much easier. You stood there Steve’s hand in yours surrounded by your favorite people that all came to support you and your little brother who seemed relieved as well. It was like the sorrow was washed away until there was nothing but calm.

You stepped outside and the first warm rays of sunshine fell through the thick blanket of clouds, opening up the sky and you just knew that things were going to be alright from now on, whatever was going to come. You’d get through it together because you finally understood what trusting someone really meant.

...

On the way home you were really silent, you sat next to Steve in the car that often had felt more like home to you than any other place ever had and your heart felt full. Hopper had left with Joyce and her kids, leaving you three to drive back alone. You listened to the other’s conversing about the outcome of the trial, how happy they were but your thoughts were already somewhere else. This chapter was closed. Finally closed. Shut.

...

“Everything okay, Y/N?“, Steve asked placing his hand on your knee, waiting for you to take it.

You smiled intertwining your fingers with his, “Yeah, everything is fine. I was just thinking.“

“About what?“, Dustin wanted to know.

“I was thinking about how everything is over now... and when one of you guys is finally going to tell me what the actual hell happened to our poor cat. Like the real story, you know.“, you said looking into your brother's eyes through the rearview mirror, seeing his expression change from calm to panicked within seconds.

You couldn’t leave it alone any longer. You needed to know now.

Steve mirrored Dustin’s expression perfectly, mouth agape, not really knowing what to say.

They had discussed telling you with Hopper and the other’s before but they never actually came to the topic of how to.

They starred at each other for a bit before Steve stopped the car on the side of the road and nervously croaking out, “Dusty, you… you wanna?…“

“Um, yeah. I-“, he said looking at you with narrowed eyes, thinking about how to break to you gently that your beloved Mews had been eaten alive by some other dimensional creature,

when you chuckled and said, “Come on guys, it can’t be that bad.“, Dustin and Steve shared another intense look before they both shrugged and your brother began, “Well,…“

But that’s a different story.

...

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[kpopchangedme]

Abnormality | Mark Tuan

A normal medical appointment can be awfully embarrassing when the doctor examining you looks like a top model

Ethereal moodboard by my girl @florenceisnottrash ♡

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

Protagonists: Mark Tuan & You

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: SFW – Doctor!AU – Comedy – Fluff  – *Swearing*

Lys’ note: 100% written because Florence asked me to on Instagram and I’m having a Tuan crisis, enjoy!

This was just a regular check-up, a Monday afternoon sadly wasted in the hospital to get your oral contraception renewed. What a dumb hassle, couldn’t your pharmacist just fax your Family Doctor for a new prescription for a second year in a row? It’s not like you actually wanted a full check-up, you just needed a freaking illegible signature on a piece of paper. Hell, the pill should be openly available in drugstores! Even if you liked Doctor Arafat, you imagined he had far more important things to do rather than see your perfectly healthy ass today. Shouldn’t he be saving lives instead of dealing with this?

You loudly sighed in the waiting room, wishing the time of the appointment would come faster. The lady across from you raised her eyes from her knitting mess, scowling like your small breathing noise just ruined her entire day. You held her gaze defiantly until she disapprovingly shook her head, eyes dipping back at what you were sure was an ongoing masterpiece. Almost triumphant you snorted at the staring contest win; this hospital waiting room was probably her everyday’s baby-boomer reality.

“Miss y/l/n?” The receptionist behind the counter called upon you and you rose to your feet, eager to get this over with. “I’m so sorry, we have been delayed a bit, but you can go and make yourself comfortable in room 6. The doctor will come see you as soon as possible!”

You obeyed and 15 minutes later, you were still sitting on an uncomfortable black chair, more and more dangerously bored to death as minutes went by. You had entered this damn place healthy, but God help you, you might become sick of old-age before you actually got what you came for. Curiously, the room 6 wasn’t as oppressively white as the rest of the hospital, it was tiny and sadly decorated with soft pink wallpaper.

Not the good kind of pink.

It looked like a flamingo had threw up all over the walls and curtains, leaving a faded salmon sad colour everywhere. You could bet people got sick from seeing the decor of room 6, at least once or twice. That’s it; you were going to die in here. It took another painful 15 minutes before the door of the cell opened again, letting a lanky man in a white laboratory coat you didn’t know step in.

“I’m sorry, Dr Arafat is a little busy today so I’m helping with some of his appointments.” The stranger sat in the chair across you, eyes glued to your chart. “I’m Dr. Tuan, one of his medical residents, I hope this is fine with you… Miss y/l/n?” Once done he raised his eyes to meet yours.

Your mind went blank for a moment as you stared back in his kind brown irises. The man was handsome, probably around your age, his brown hair fell right above his eyebrows, slightly parted in the middle to offer a glimpse of his porcelain forehead. He was almost as pale as his lab coat and you cleared your throat, suddenly highly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “I-It’s just y/n…”

Dr. Tuan blinked, soft expression turning to a shy smile. “It’s just Dr. Mark then”, he leaned back, glancing around at the ugly room before adding: “You must be pretty special, they gave you the VIP room. Not everybody gets a My Little Zombie Pony themed suite.”

Even if you didn’t get it, you giggled at his joke attempt and his half-smile spread, now bearing far too many perfect white teeth. Shit, scratch that, the doctor wasn’t handsome, he was damn hot. You just won the hospital lotto, he was worth the wait.

“So, just y/n, I see you’re here for a prescription renewal.” He gazed down at your chart again, letting his index finger slide down the white paper and you used the opportunity to study his perfect features. “It shouldn’t take long, I just have a few questions then we’ll do a physical exam and you’ll be out in no time. I hear the weather’s beautiful today, you’ll be able to catch some sun! Sounds good?”

It took you a second to realize he was done talking and when you unwillingly detached your eyes from his lips, you reddened as you nodded. It wasn’t your fault, the man was very distracting, his lips looked so full, soft and pink.

The good kind of pink.

The doctor cleared his throat with a smirk, after catching you staring and he flipped pages on the chart. “Are you aware of your current weight or should we step on the balance?” His tone was professional, unbothered, but you felt your heart sink in your chest.

Fuck. Maybe having a hot doctor wasn’t going to be as fun as you initially thought.

He proceeded to ask all the basic questions about sleep habits, nutrition, allergies, etc. It went on for some time and as he scribbled all your answer in the chart, you couldn’t help staring at him like a madwoman. You silently prayed he didn’t notice it. His rose tongue darted through his lips, licking the corner of his mouth and maked you blush darker. What was it with you and your thing about mouths? Damn it, get your shit together y/n!

“Are you in a serious relationship?”

“N-no, I’m single!” You replied to that new question way faster than the last and he looked up, shadow of amusement passing on his features. The hospital could easily finance a whole new wing if they sold calendars with his face on it. You’d buy at least two.

“How many sexual partners were you intimate with this past year?” He used the most boring tone he could master for this question and you wondered if it was a way of distancing himself.

“Two”, you muttered, lying through your gritted teeth. You would have told ‘six’ to Dr. Arafat, but you found yourself worried of Dr. Tuan’s opinion. Fuck, you could slap yourself for thinking about this right now, it’s not like he cared.

He paused a second before scribbling your answer. “Okay, what about safety?”

“Hum?” You blinked, missing his question still too busy feeling guilty about your itsy-bitsy lie.

He raised an entertained brow, pursing his lips and leaning back on his chair. “I’m sorry”, he didn’t look the part at all, “it’s about risk factors and to determine if we need further tests to–”

“No!”, you bit the interior of your cheek. “I was tested a few months ago and I would never have unprotected sex!”

He hummed deeply, the sound making you feel exposed as he held your gaze. “Good, but you should know unprotected sex isn’t bad if both partners are tested and safe. If you want to have some, just–”

“I’m not on the pill for that.” Your face was on fire, you knew he couldn’t have missed the burning of your cheeks and you cursed yourself for being such an open book. His attempt at sexual ed definitely wasn’t helping.

Dr. Tuan smiled widely at your embarrassment and it felt out of place, his grin was way too dangerous for it to be professional. How could someone that attractive be a doctor? As if reading your mind, he lost the smile, starting to write down your prescription renewal.

“I’ll renew your current birth control pill for a year.” He tore the paper and slid it to you, observing intently as you put in in your purse. “I think we need to do a Pap Smear…”

Your mouth fell open, paling at the idea of it.

Dr. Mark Tuan between your legs, in stupid ugly room 6, up in your… Not that the idea hadn’t cross you since he entered, but this was definitely not what you had envisioned. Him between your legs would have sounded a lot more appealing if it wasn’t to dolorously scratching your cervix for a Pap test. His face remained neutral as panic evidently filled you. You jumped to your feet, ready to hightail it.

“Well, thank you for the prescription, I should probably just–”

You stopped halfway to the door, his hand was wrapped around your forearm.

“Relax, I was teasing you”, he was awfully close now, which had the opposite effect of relaxing you, “let’s just do a basic physical exam.”

You gulped and sighed before turning around and obediently sitting on the examination table. The doctor immediately proceeded to take your blood pressure. “Are you even allowed to make fun of me like this?”

He shrugged at your accusatory question. “I’m not sure, it’s the first year of my residency...” He paused and sighed, “Please don’t tattle on me, just y/n.”

You chuckled and he smirked at the sound, satisfied you were beginning to relax. “Do you make all your patients go through this?”

This time he smiled with all his teeth as he moved a light in front of your pupils to observe their reaction. “Only those who make me nervous.”  When he lowered the light, you blinked several times, blinded and stunned by what he just casually said. “Also”, he wrote something on the chart but it felt like he was just avoiding to look at you, “you’re not really my patient.”

You turned red again and you nervously wiggled, making the paper protection crack under your legs. So, you weren’t really the hot doctor’s patient and you made him nervous. How? He was the one making your heart skip beats ever since he walked in. Even right now, the implication of what he just said made your heart beat frantically in your chest.

… And that thought happened to you at the exact moment Dr. Mark Tuan was reaching for his stethoscope. Well, fuck.

His hands were like ice blocks when he slid them under your shirt and you felt like the stupidest girl ever for not wearing something low cut today. If you had, his hands wouldn’t be in you clothes and you wouldn’t be crimson red right now. No, you had to wear a stupid collar sweater, as if to make the doctor job’s harder.

“Breathe in… Out…” He instructed and you shivered as you obeyed, not from his cold touch but because of how low his voice got. You pressed your thighs together in an attempt to remind yourself of your surroundings. He’s just doing his job, this is a fucking hospital y/n, get your shit together. He changed sides to listen to your left lung, licking his lips as he repeated his commands.

You were pretty sure he didn’t need his stupid stethoscope to listen to your heartbeat, the receptionist and the old knitting lady could probably hear it from the waiting room. Still, he professionally moved it up your chest, listening seriously.

Dr. Mark searched for your eyes when he finally backed off to grab your chart one last time. “Wow, your heart rate is…” He stopped himself to chuckle, holding your humiliated gaze.

“Are we done?” You breathed out, already knowing you probably sounded like a percussion’ solo.

“Well your heart rate is… Abnormally fast… It’s crazy!” You pouted and he laughed knowingly, eyes following as you got up with the paper cover of the table stuck to your ass. “You should get this checked-up soon!” You sent a death glare his way, you both knew why it was beating so fast. He smirked, ripping another prescription sheet of his pad. “But not by me, I’m not your official doctor.” He handed you the sheet and you took it gently, suspicious he was just teasing you.

“What is this for?”

Mark offered you his million dollar smile again. “Nothing, I just prescribed you my phone number.”

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

#kpoptrashtag #thekpopnetwork #mark tuan #got7 #got7 fanfiction #mark tuan fanfiction #mark tuan imagine #mark tuan scenario #mark tuan fluff #got7 fluff #sfw #doctor!au #abnormality

[sugasspringday]

What Makes "Us" | Yoongi

sup, hey, how ya doin! anon request; can I request a Yoongi scenario where you work with BTS so you're good friends with them and you come in to work one day really upset because a guy who'd been leading you on rejected you? ~ hey-o guys, so how are you? first all thanks to the anon who requested this and i'm also sorry it's coming up really late. I was suppose to write earlier, but my lazy ass fell asleep, that's why i'm here are 2;30 am writing for you guys, but probably won't be posting it until the morning. i really hope you all in enjoy it, and thanks for reading! ~ warnings; no warnings just a heel of a lot of fluff, and some swearing note; y/n- aka you- is a one of the make up artists for bts. ~ *yoongi's point of view* y/n walked in to work, happy as always, but some how she seamed even happier. that beautiful, white smile spread across her perfect face. her nose scrunched as she smiled, it was one of those things no one really noticed but i seamed to love so much. "hey y/n," jimin smiled at her as the door closed behind her, catching the attention of pretty much everyone in the room. whenever she walked into the room it just seamed a lot bigger and everyone just seamed to smile more, but i guess they do say some peoples smiles are contagious. she walked over to me slowly as her eyes were glued to her phone. "why are you so happy today?" i asked her as she reached me with a wider smile then she had as she walked into the room. she giggled a little before putting her phone away, "well, i met this guy the other night. saturday, yeah Saturday. and we're going out for dinner," she cheered. oh, okay, i guess what makes her happy may not make her happy. i couldn't help but lose the smile that was on my face, but i want to be happy for her so i could try and fake smile at least. i some how found some way to push my cheeks up and smile, even though at this point i felt quiet depressed about what was going on. "wow, i'm so happy for you," i lied to her, i hated lying and i especially hated lying to her but what am i suppose to say? am i suppose to say "oh, that's nice and all but i'm a jealous fuck and don't want you to date anyone else other then me," or maybe i could have said "no, i'm so happy for you. and you're not aloud to have a boyfriend if you're not with me,". she'd think i was a complete jerk!

"what's the matter with you?" she asked, as i forgot; she can always read me, and she always knows when i'm lying. i fake yawned and rubbed my eyes slowly. "just tired," i lied again, hopefully that was more believable. she looked at me. "i can see that, the bags under your eyes are gonna be hard to cover," she explained. hell, i'm not even tired, what is she trying to say? i yawned again, trying to make the lie even more believable. "don't be doing that in the photo shoot. you're a ugly yawner," she chuckled, jokingly, "well, i apologise for not yawning attractively like every other human being on this earth," i replied sarcastically making her laugh once again- god, i do love her laugh, and i love it most when i'm the reason that melody is leaving her mouth. ~ next day ~ it was the second day of the photo shoot and y/n was late, she's never late. something must be the matter, because i'm seriously not lying when i say she's never, ever late. "hey, where's y/n?" i asked our manager, "i don't know, she texted me saying she was going to be a little, but i didn't think she'd be this late," he explained "i'll have to have a serious word with her when she arrives," he added sternly, "no, don't. it won't be her fault, shes never late so if she is there must be something wrong," i replied trying to convince him not to get angry about it. i don't want y/n having the manager on her case, expecially when something is obviously wrong. moments later y/n walked in, but her pearly smile wasn't there, it was a miserable sulk and the bags under her eyes were almost black, not to mention her eyes were actually red and puffy. Okay, something is seriously wrong. "sorry i'm late, i promise it won't happen again," she explained to our manager before walking over to do my make up. "sorry i'm late, yoongs. i best hurry up today," she said, pulling out her massive makeup bag and laying all the products out. y/n sniffled a little. "hey, what's up? you were super excited about this date with this guy. aren't you happy now?" i asked her, placing my hand on her soft cheek. "it wasn't a date, would you call it a date if they brought their girlfriend and some other guy to date you?" she said moodily. what? how could this guy do this to her? she's been so so happy for the past week, since last saturday, and i'm guessing it's about him. and i know y/n, she wouldn't fall for someone unless she knew that he was giving her some sort of signal. "of course he'd have a girlfriend, why would someone as handsome ass him date something like me?" she sighed starting to apply the makeup onto one of her brushes.

i stopped her. taking the brush out of her hand and placing it on the side. "guys, me and y/n are just gonna have a little talk outside. can we wait a little bit to start to photo shoot?" i said, making it seam like i was asking but i really wasn't and within seconds i was rushing out the room with y/n's hand in mine. "don't you ever say that again," i demanded. "what?" she asked, confused. "what you said back there. i don't want you to say that ever again, okay?" i explained "anyone would be lucky to have you. y/n you're amazing," i added, putting my hand on her shoulders. she smiled at me then sighed out, her eyes full of sadness and hurt. "i was so stupid, like he'd actually like me,". "i know you, y/n, he must have given you some kind of sign for you to actually want to go out with him. he played you, and he lead you on," i said, calming her as i could see she was close to tears. "but i liked him, yoongs, and i kind of really wanted to be happy and date someone. someone who liked me for me. not for my looks, not like i have any [don't doubt yourself y/n, you're beautiful], and for me," y/n explained, and tear slowly sliding down her cheek.  i looked at her gone out, my face full of disbelief. and before i could even stop the words from falling out my mouth they had already been said; "date me then,". she chuckled a little, making me frown as well as she looked towards the ground. "wow, thanks for mocking me yoo-" and she looked back up at me to see the hurt expression that was plastered on my face. "- you were joking, right?" she asked mid sentence. my emotions got the better of me, and i couldn't- i didn't want to- try and hide it. a blush spread across my face as i smiled towards the floor and at both of our pair of feet.

"yoongs," she sighed out, "it's okay, you don't have to explain. i understand," i spoke out staring to walk back in. and as i was about to open the door, her small hand reached out and grabbed the bottom of my arm. "i never said that, did i?" she said, "well, you don't like me like that and i think you've made that-" and within monets her lips were pressed against mine. it was an exchange that last probably no longer then 30 seconds but it felt like minutes, hours, days, an eternity even. "i like you, yoongi, and i always have. i just didn't think you liked me back, so i tried to forget about my stupid little crush on you because i knew it could never happen," she said, pulling back from the kiss, slowly. i chuckled and looked at her with a smile, almost as bright as the one she wore yesterday. "nothing could be further from the truth," i replied "I've always liked you, from the moment i sore you," i added. and seconds later we were kissing again, this time with more passion and intensity, more love and more desire. "so, what does this make us?" i asked her, politely and she looked back at me with that cute little smirk she plays on her face from time to time. "i guess that makes 'us', us.". ~ hey-o, hope you enjoyed it and i'm sorry if it's extremely crappy. i'm currently writing this at stupid oclock in the morning whilst watching the originals season 4. so at this point i'm tired and extremely depressed about what's going on in my tv show. anyway, before i start mopping about "always and forever" i'm gonna go. thanks so so much for reading.

requests are open- reacts, moodboards, ships, scenarios/imagines and au's. and this is my masterlist, in case you wanna look or read some of my shit. - love ya all! - kala previous past; taehyung- stigma

#bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts preferences #bts reacts #bts moodboards #bangtan boys #taehyung #min yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #jungkook #jimin #min yoongi scenarios #min yoongi imagines #suga #suga scenarios #suga imagines #scenarios #imagines #sugaspringday #sugasspringday scenarios #anon as #anon request

[vibranium-arm]

Mercy | (1/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Cora Julia Mullins

A/N: a huge thank you to @sebbys-girl for editing my story and thank you for your encouragement and motivation. I’m forever grateful. I really wanna hear your feedback, so let me know what you guys think. You can find my story on wattpad too.If you want to check out my moodboard for mercy, you can click here.

Summary: Soulmate AU. Once you’re 18, your soulmate’s name appear on the collarbone. Every time your soulmate with someone that is not you, you’ll feel an agonizing pain in your chest.  

Masterlist 

When Cora Mullins first found out about soulmates, she was ecstatic to know that there was someone out there who was made for her. All Cora wanted for a soulmate to take care of her, and shower her with hugs and kisses, and occasionally supply her with chocolate.

When she turned 18, her soulmate's name appeared on her collarbone, Three words never looked so beautiful. James Buchanan Barnes. Cora was excited and always made sure that her collarbone was showing for the whole world to see.

When Cora turned 23 though, she felt a pain in her heart she'd never felt before. She knew what this meant, everyone knew what this meant. Her soulmate was in a relationship with someone else. Despite feeling dejected, she decided to rise above it. She felt like, if her soul mate was happy with someone else, then she would be happy for her soulmate.

Ever since that day, she made sure to wear clothing that covered up her soulmate's name.

It was after the battle of New York that her life suddenly became much more interesting.

During the attack on the New York, Cora somehow managed to save Natasha Romanoff by distracting the aliens when they had her cornered. Natasha had been knocked down and the aliens were quickly moving towards her.

"Hey, you piece of shit. Come and get me, you ugly metal pointy nosed jerk!" Cora screams while throwing pieces of debris towards the aliens that's were advancing towards the lone Avengers.

"Come and get me you ass ." She screamed again.

Having finally caught their attention they started advancing on Cora now and she started to panic. "Jesus Christ, what have I done? Help!!" Cora yelled while running the opposite way.

The redheaded woman quickly got back on her feet and arrived just in time to kill the aliens that were now gaining on Cora. After taking out the immediate threat killing the alien, she gave Cora a bewildered looks and then ordered her to go to a safe place. Cora turned and saluting the red headed woman, and ran off to find safety somewhere she could wait out the attack.

When it was over, Nat went to find Cora, wanting to introduced herself and thank her for her help.

When she eventually did find her, she was at the base of the building across the street. Cora had taken refuge there with some of the neighborhood children and she was helping them stay calm by playing games with them until help come. Nat's stone cold heart clenched a little bit at the sight. It was rare to see someone so innocent and considering Nat's past , innocence was not a word in her dictionary.

"Hi!, thank you for saving me back there. Without you, --- umph" Nat was cut off by Cora hugging her. When the kids saw Cora hugging someone, they joined in as well and Nat shifted uncomfortably under the gesture.

"I should be thanking you! I didn't do much, but I figured the world needs you so..."

"Well, thanks anyways. I owe you one." Nat said giving her a pat on the head.

"Oh, my god, I have a lot of adrenaline coursing through my body, either that or it's all the chocolate I ate earlier. Is that what it is always like for you? Because this is awesome! Maybe I should learn how to fight like you." Cora suggested letting go of Nat's waist

"Um..." Nat started but Cora interrupted her again

"Seriously, so much adrenaline. Hey Kids, we should play catch after this, work some of this off yeah?!" Cora asked and the children all cheered. Cora looked over at Nat who was grinning

"Do you want to join us? " Cora asked and reached over and squeezed Natasha's arms.

Natasha gave a small broken smile and nodded her head.

That was the start of their beautiful friendship. It was hard for Natasha to open up to her at first, but with Cora's behavior and attitude, it was almost impossible for Natasha not to share her stories. When Natasha was done telling Cora about every she had been through, she was expecting Cora to look at her differently, as if she was a monster. To her surprise though, she looked up to see sees Cora smiling softly at her and leap forward to give a tight comforting hug.

From then onwards, Natasha would anything in her power to protect Cora. She was so innocent and precious that Nat vowed to never let anything hurt her. She performs a background check on all of Cora's friends and threatened those that wanted to go on a date with Cora that if they hurt her, they would have to answer to Nat.

Cora, in turn found it comforting to know that someone was protecting her. Ever since her parents passed away, she had no one to rely on.

One day, Natasha asked Cora to hang out with her at the Avenger's tower for a girl's night in. She had met some of the other Avengers and other than Natasha, she became really close with Sam as well. She felt like Sam was the older brother that she never had.

Nat and Cora were sitting on the couch painting each other's nails when Cora looked over at Nat and smiled.

"Who's your soulmate?" She asked while blowing on Nat's nails so they dried faster.

"Jayden Alex Valdez. But I'm not sure if I want to meet him or her." Natasha replied, staring straight ahead.

Tilting her head, Cora gave Nat a concerning look.

"Why wouldn't you? Everyone wants to meet their soulmate?"

"When I was in a Red Room, I was trained by a Winter Soldier. Months passed by and next thing I knew we were in a relationship. We loved each other but when the powers found out about our relationship, they took him away from me. They used this machine to wipe his memories of me and made damn sure he wouldn't remember our relationship. " Natasha mumbled, turning and staring into at Cora's eyes.

"I feel guilty. I have a soulmate waiting for me out there and I was in a relationship with someone else. My soulmate and he or she must have felt the heart pain when we were together."

When Nat looked over at Cora she could tell something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" She asked concerned

"Yeah, I just... I felt the heart pain. My soulmate fell in love with someone else as well. So I can tell you, it hurt but all I want is for him to be happy. I'm sure your Jayden feels the same, Nat."

"I hope so," Nat said and reached over to squeeze Cora's hand.

"I know so. So come on tell me all about... sorry, what was this man's name that you fell in love with?" Cora asked scrunching up her eyebrows

"James. James Buchanan Barnes. But everyone called him The Winter Soldier."

It was then that Cora felt her whole world stop.

#mercy fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #Soulmate AU #bucky barnes soulmate #bucky barnes imagine #james barnes #james barnes fanfiction #Avengers #Marvel #Sebastian Stan

[dillie-bars]

all them fuckin asks maaaan

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?- I!! Don’t!! Sing!! Anymore!! Cause!! I!! Was!! Judged!!

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?- I wouldn’t want to know anything I already worry enough about the truth and I think it would make me worse and upset me probably :’)

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?- ??? I don’t accomplish anything

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?- !!! Bye !!!

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?- uh I would want to change EVERYTHING cause I’d be sO FUCKING PARANOID ABOUT IT? BuT being a lazy ass I would juST MOPE AROUND INSTEAD OF CHANGING MY LIFE BEFORE ITS TOO L A T E BYE

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?- I want to leave and travel, I wanna go to all pride paradES AS POSSIBLE B I T C H, and idk I just wanna L I V E

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.- don’t come on here and attack me like this next question !!!

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?- no not at all

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?- Uhm idk I don’t really cry in front of people :’)(although if I’m at school or out somewhere and I’m by myself and notice people staring at me I’ll just start tearing up bye anyways)

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.- I mEAN OBVIOUSLY YOU DO I GOTTA EXPLAIN CAUSE-

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?- no I hate opening up to people

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?- no one talks to me sorry bye

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?- oh I gotta sentence in mind to say to you “fuck me” and then I die and really I fucked myself cause I died and didn’t get to fuck before-

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?- THEYRE G R E A T

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.- no thanks

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?- “that ignorant Slut is back at it again”

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?- LEAVE

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?- I’m too fucking nice to say anything to people’s faces and I can never ignore someone who tries to speak to me so would you consider that as forgiving :’)

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.- how a about no and I say “bitch you fucking gay don’t even fuck with that shit and you ugly too try to win some money so people will at least love you for your cash and not your looks”

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?- punk I guess I’m a poser and don’t belong to either

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.- I loVE THEM but I’m probably to much of a pussy to get tattoos and I definitely don’t want piercings

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?- FuCk no??? Make up is disgusting and I hate it on myself it’s fucking making me fake and I hate !!!

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.- the smiths always seem to fucking make me happy for some reason or drag me out of my sad moods?

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.- “fuck you all”

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.- weird al was alright I was living uh the first time I saw drake bell it was amazing cause I was in a bar and I just felt so at peace there idk and the other time I saw drake bell it was at school so that SUCKED ASS

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?- I want a letter from anyone tbh and I wouldn’t care what’s on it just as long I received it knowing they wanted to write to me or whatever :’)

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?- no

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?- killing myself crying to post Malone

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?- that I’m gay :’)

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?- idk I’ve always wanted blue or something but I can’t pull that off

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?- no one would even come so what’s the point?

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.- 1.i wish to get out of here(I wanna leave this town fuCk)2.i wish I was loved( do y’all need anymore explanation towards that? No)3. I wish I was okay :/

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.- I was a witch in elementary school and yeah it was pretty snazzy

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?- well I’ve never been drunk or high so I’ve only been tipsy and I just normally get hyper and dance around to music an-

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?- idk

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?- you cause I’m gay :’)

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.- love is a construct made up by the brain and the heart

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?- okAY I REALLY WANT A SHORT HAIR STYLE BUT WITH MY COLIC’S AND MY GIANT ASS FOREHEAD I COULD N E V E R PULL THAT OFF SO MIGHT AS WELL GO BALD RIGHTcoffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?- I don’t go to Starbucks

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?- what a good question

#Jesus fuck #rhetts-beard

[beautiful-liu]

Chapter 24 - Remember me - Kryber

Title: Remember me

Pairing: Kryber [Amber Liu x Krystal Jung] Fandom: f(x) Genre: Drama, romance

Summary: The bad ass androgynous girl Amber Josephine Liu with a sex, drugs and rock-‘n-roll attitude whom everybody seemed to fear and admire at the same time, with the flash of a smug smile on her handsome face, and a sigaret or lolly pop in her mouth, depending on her mood. A leather jacket always hugging her shoulders, ripped jeans and a loose tank top that displayed just a tiny bit of her sports bra when she lifted her tattoo-filled arms. Everyone was weak for Amber Liu. Krystal simply didn’t see it. Until that one night she accidentally met her, and met a whole other person than the stories she had been made to believe. Word count: 5500 Rating: T A/N: Excuse the grammar mistakes. This is my first time writing a multi chaptered fic. Hope y'all enjoy the progress!

Read it on: AO3 & asianfanfics

Moodboard: x

Krystal closed her eyes. Concentrating on her breathing, she focussed herself on achieving the goal she had set for herself: a happy life with Amberand Jung Internationals. Her father wasn't going to hand over the company easily but she was not going home with anything less. She closed her hand around the door knob. The cold iron numbed her hand but she kept squeezing. Next to her, she heard Amber breathe hard. Or perhaps it just seemed hard because all of her senses were so much stronger now. She took another deep breath, then turned the door knob and opened the door. Krystal opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was her father laying in bed. The colour had returned to his cheeks, but now he laid there in his pyjamas with her mother sitting on a chair next to the bed, she noticed how old he actually looked. The enormous ammount of wrinkles and the dark circles under his eyes made him look fragile. The once so ever grand CEO of Jung Internationals had aged and become incompetent to rule. Her parents looked up, at first with a smile on their faces when they saw Krystal come in. But the two women still held hands and Amber followed her in. The presence of Amber whiped the smiles off of her parents' faces immediately. Her mother stared at them in disbelief whilst her father preferred to stare angrily in Amber's direction. "Mom.. dad.. there is something I need to tell you," Krystal forced out of her mouth. Her voice was as frail as she felt now. There was a silence, in which the four people in the room could only look at each other whilst they were studying their own feelings. "I hope you have a good reason for bringing Jacob's daughter here, Krystal. Your father doesn't receive visitors if they're not close friends or family." Her mother was the first one who spoke. Krystal swallowed audibly. She felt Amber pinch in her hand, and that caused her to take a deep breath, collect her thoughts and blurt out: "I do, in fact," she said a bit more confident. "We are dating, again. Today you will receive a message that the wedding is off." Another silence, this one seemed to last longer. Minutes perhaps. Her father and mother looked at each other. They just plainly looked, they didn't move a muscle. It felt like they had known all along that this day would come. "Say something, Charles.." her mother urged eventually. Her father grimaced and grumbled something that Krystal couldn't quite catch, although it seemed a lot like a curse word. "Why would I? She knows damn well what this means. She's not dumb-" "Yes, but you're the one who made them broke up the first time and hooked her up to that Kai!" her mother hissed. "This is your responsiblity and you should handle it." Her father shot her mother an angry look, before he straightened his back — as far as he could in bed — and lifted his chin as his eyes found Krystal's. They eventually turned to Amber's. "Why is it that whenever something goes wrong, you're always present?" he said softly. Amber blinked with her eyes and sighed. "I don't know, sir, perhaps it's because you're blaming me for everything that goes wrong?" she replied. Krystal shot her a warning gaze; they had agreed that she would handle her father and Amber would just be here for moral support. "Well, can't I? You deceived my daughter — again. Tricked her into loving you, blowing off the marriage. Did you know she was finally getting the company? Her life long dream would have come true and you ruined it. How can you stand so proudly by her side, knowing you ruined her future?"Mr. Jung breathed. His voice had grown even softer, but more dangerous too. It felt like he could jump out of bed at any second to strangle her. Before Amber could say anything, Krystal did. "Amber never deceived me. If someone deceived anyone, then I have deceived myself. I tricked myself into loving Kai, knowing that if I would just push through the bad times, I would be rewarded. You can compare it to smiling to someone you don't like; you'll manage it the first time, and the second, but at the third time a bitter taste will have entered your mouth that cause the corners of your mouth to drop faster every following time. I thought I loved him because I lied to myself. And you are wrong, father. My future isn't ruined, because I will still be Jung Internationals' CEO. Nothing will have change, I will only have Amber by my side instead of Kai." Her father stared at her in the same disbelief her mother had looked at her when they had entered the room. With an open mouth, he gazed at her. It took him a few moments, but then he started to laugh. A low laugh that eventually developped into a heavy coughing. Her mother handed him a paper towel to whipe his mouth after he was done. "You think you'll get Jung Internationals after this kind of trick you pulled on me? Forget it. You can work there as long as you like as Vice President, but you'll never ever will become the CEO. Not while I'm still alive," he said, still smirking. And Krystal had known this would happen. She had known that her father would never ever hand over his title as CEO to her when she refused to marry Kai and dated Amber instead. He hated Amber so much that he declined the happiness of his own daughter. As if Amber had corrupted her, making her ruin the company as soon as she got in charge. When Krystal stayed silent, her father continued. "Don't you know how poisonous this will be if I let you be CEO? In your first week, the media will do a background check on you. Of course they'll won't find anything interesting but good grades but they will find Amber. They will find her and they will know better than to assume she's a boy. They will know she's Jacob's daughter and they will have dirt on you. You'll get exposed in front of everybody and who do you think the employees rather would want to follow? Their boss, whom they have worked with love for, for many years? Or a young woman who could easily be overthrown by other companies if they knew she was dating a woman. Even nowadays that's not good for your image. Don't be a martyr, Krystal, and choose what's best for you. Go back to Kai. Our conversation is over. We will talk after you have made the right choice." Her father smiled at her like he really meant it, as if he really wanted the best for his daughter. But Krystal knew he didn't; he wanted to save Jung Internationals. He acted out of fear. The media might discover her relationship with Amber. Other companies might want to publish the dirt they had on her. Jung Internationals might loose profit in the years to come when she became CEO and she was exposed. Her father did the exact same thing Krystal had done eight years ago. Back then, she had also acted out of fear. Suddenly, she understood more than ever why she had made that choice and why she chose differently now. Krystal had still been a teenager back then, hopeless for the approval of her father. But now, now she was a woman. She had achieved every goal she had set for herself and only needed to complete the final task: become a CEO. And she would do this with Amber at her side. She didn't need her father's approval anymore because she had gained enough experience and power to stand on her own feet. And that was exactly what she was going to do. To her father's surprise, Krystal smiled back. "I'm sorry, father, I won't go back to Kai," she said. "Then it's very simple, Krystal. You won't become a CEO," her father replied nonchalantly. But this didn't whipe the smile off of Krystal's face, which made him frown. "I will become the CEO of Jung Internationals. And I will keep dating Amber. But you are right. This is the last time we talk. Next time, I will take it to court if I have to. Who do you think they'll hand over the company to? An old, sick man who is prone to injury and has to take off so many sick days that the employees barely even know you anymore... or a young and talented woman who was raised by you yourself, knows all the tricks and tactics you have only learned on an old age and has proved to be succesful during your absence. I advice you, father, to accept me and Amber for who we are. Otherwise this whole situation might get ugly." Her voice had stayed low and soft the whole time. She didn't need to raise it to make her point, nor did she lay in any emotion. It was cold and icy; it was the same voice she used when she announced bad news that wouldn't suit her and needed changing. Her eyes had not left her father's, not even when her mother screeched her name, yelling at her to not talk to her father like that and to rescind her promise to take it to court. Her father stared at her with the same stone cold expression. "I will see you in court, then. Good luck, Krystal." "I don't need luck. I know I will succeed. And if I don't, I will do everything in my power to succeed anyway, with Amber by my side." And with those words, she turned away and left the room, dragging Amber with her. "You can't be serious," Amber exclaimed, as soon as they were back on the road. Krystal looked at her with a huge smile. "I am, I really am. Gosh, that felt so good, to finally stand up against him! Did you see the look on his face when I said I would take the matter to court? Priceless!" she beamed. But Amber didn't smile back. In fact, she looked like she'd almost faint. "There's a very small chance that they'll hand over the company to you, right? He has his signature under everything." Krystal still chuckled and shook her head. "You don't understand. He already signed the transferring documents too! And I have a copy of that. So it won't matter if he deletes the document from his laptop or tears the paper apart: I still have it. And in the document it says I will become automatically CEO on the 3rd of June, which would've been my wedding. He cannot do anything," she laughed. Amber sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Krystal, you told me that you wanted to rebuild your relationship with your father. No matter the result of this power match, you will lose his love, you do realize that, right?" she said eventually. This made Krystal look up curiously. Her wide grin slowly faded. "Do you think he'll hate me?" "I personally wouldn't like it if my young unexperienced daughter drags my ass to court, actually. And whether he or you will get the company, I still would be offended. Even more if the judge takes your side." Krystal bit down on her lower lip; her happy mood immediately fading. She had been so focussed on paying back the pain she had endured as a child because of her father, that she hadn't thought of the concequences... at least, not on longer terms. It hadn't at all occured to her that her father could hate her, nevertheless the outcome. She wanted to tell Amber that he would never do something like that, but she wasn't sure. In fact, he was the kind of man would indeed could shut his own child out. He had kept the CEO position from her when she started dating Amber again and would rather want his child to choose for the company than for her own happiness. Her father would have no trouble disowning her. And her mother was too weak to even bring in anything against him. She was just the house wife, replacable if had to. There was no way she could keep him from disowning her. She would be all by herself... "Amber, you'll stay with me, right?" Krystal asked softly, suddenly insecure. "What, do you mean in court?" her girlfriend replied, not taking her eyes off of the road. "No. Forever. If my family abandons me, I will have no one left." Amber frowned and the car slowed down unexpectedly with a short 'hmmpff' of the engine, causing Krystal to shoot foreward until her belt caught her. A bit confused she turned her head. There was a focussed expression on the other woman's face. Amber turned off the highway, onto the parking lot of a McDonald's. At first, Krystal wanted to ask if they were going to get some food or something. She was ready to protest because she didn't eat fatty foods anymore. But the determined expression hadn't left her eyes yet and Krystal knew her well enough to know that they weren't here to eat. The car stopped, but Amber let the engine on. She unbuckled her belt and twisted her body in Krystal's direction. And with no warning or whatsoever, she bowed down and pressed her lips fiercely upon hers. Overwhelmed by the suddenness, it took Krystal a few moments to close her eyes and place her hands in Amber's neck. She kissed back, but Amber's body weight pressed her against the car window, and that was the moment she slightly pushed her back, chuckling softly. "Slow down, tiger. What's up?" she asked, still snickering. Amber opened her eyes, still dead serious. "I can't believe you had to ask me if I would stay with you," she said, almost hurt. Krystal blinked a few times and tilted her head slightly. "Can't a girl doubt in a moment of weakness?" she asked. Amber shook her head. "No. Not you. Not after everything we've been through. I don't want you to ever doubt me again when it comes to loving you, Krystal," she huffed. Krystal smiled. "Forever it is, then?" "Forever it is." "You must be crazy." Jessica stared at the both of them in utter disbelief. Her sister had urged to come over as soon as Krystal was free to take a look at her new apartment. To kill two birds with one stone; Krystal had also invited Amber over so her sister could get used to her new girlfriend. Or old girlfriend, whatever. As soon as she had opened the door, Jessica had flown her around the neck, hugging her tightly. The two sisters were entangled when Amber came from the kitchen, still wearing the apron with "Kiss the cook" in big red letters on the front Krystal had made her wear to avoid spilling on her new floor. Jessica had immediately let her go and scoffed: "So you left Kai for this?" Krystal had poked her hard in her side and Amber had stuck out her tongue. "If you have to know, I also made Kai wear that thing," Krystal hissed. "Oh so it's second-hand rubbish? Let's buy a new one that doesn't smell like expensive cologne," Amber had immediately commented, making the two girls laugh instantly. After they had eaten the terrible food Amber had made — okay, she kind of had to admit that she missed the way Kai cooked, but she guessed this was an opportunity to learn a new skill because Amber sure as hell wasn't going to — they sat down on the couch. The Jung sisters each with a glass with white wine and Amber a little bit of liquor. "So you approve of us?" Krystal eventually asked, when the small talk was over. Jessica put her index finger against her lips and let her gaze go from her little sister to her girlfriend and back. "You know, I really liked Kai. You could've had a perfect life with him. But the heart cannot be changed, so I suppose that you wouldn't have gotten happy even if you tried. I'm glad you found Amber again, to make you happy. But rationally speaking.. Kai outshines her on every aspect." "Oh no, there's one thing I'm better at," Amber immediately butted in. She grinned mischievously and winked at Krystal very obviously. It caused her cheeks to grow red immediately and Jessica to burst out in laughter. "Hmm, okay, perhaps she has better humour than him. But really, I'm not the one you need to convince. I think dad will be a lot harder to make you accept this new.. development," Jessica said. Her little sister sighed and ran with her slender fingers through her hair. Jessica squinted her eyes at her deep sigh. "You already told him.. did you?" she asked cautiously. Krystal tried to turn away her gaze to avoid being caught looking guilty, but Jessica didn't need something like a gaze to tell her her sister was lying to her; she could just see that from the way her shoulders slumped down. "Oh God, what did they say?" Jessica asked immediately forcefully. Krystal and Amber exchanged a look and a sigh, before they eventually turned towards the other woman. Krystal told her the whole story, until the very details. Some words from her father had been grifted into her memory and came out easily. It didn't take longer than five minutes to tell what had happened, but during those five minutes Jessica had grown five shades paler. When Krystal was finished she turned her head away and it stayed silent for a long time. "You do realize that I cannot help you now, right?" Jessica eventually managed to get out, making her look back up again. "I cannot pick either yours or dad's side, not even if I wanted to. You'll have to sort this out yourself." "I know.." Krystal muttered. "Do you think I can win, though?" Krystal had grown more scared over the course of the hours that passed. Back then it had been an impulsion to dare her father to come and meet her at court, but she wasn't at all sure of her case. "If you really have those papers and they're valid, I think you can. With a little persuation you'll be able to get a firm share of Jung Internationals. But it's not unreasonable to choose for dad. He still has his name under everything and has more power than you. If he wants, he can fire you now." "But that wouldn't make a difference if Krystal has those documents," Amber butted in. Sometimes, she forgot that Amber knew a lot of the business world too, because she had grown up in it as well. Jacob Liu had perhaps not been as bad as her father had been during her childhood, but Amber had known all the nights alone in her elderly house because her father had to stay over at work. She knew the loneliness that came with having rich parents. And being the cheeky girl she was, it wouldn't surprise her that she had eavesdropped on her parents often, just to get some sight into the business world. Now she knew a fair share as well, despite never even having been interested to follow her father's footsteps. "Indeed, it wouldn't. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have power anymore. And he will probably have the company behind him," Jessica replied, causing Krystal and Amber to frown. "How's that possible? Krystal worked her way up to CEO. She was an intern, an personal assistant, she was the coffee lady who brought everyone their coffee until she proved what she was worth. How can the employees like Mr. Jung more than her?" Amber grumbled. "You're getting it wrong. Sure, the average desk lady might like Krystal more, but you forget that Jung Internationals only exists for 25 years. The people who were there, the first employees ever, were employeed by our father. He single-handedly turned Jung Internationals to what it is now. The board, all the important people in the company, are old white men who are father's friends. They will support him no matter what. It'd be a miracle if they were open-minded enough to choose for Krystal. And even if they secretly thought Krystal would do better than her father, they'd still choose for him because they fear loosing their well-paid jobs. And she needs to have the board behind her if she wants to make a difference. All those interns who love her can't change a thing." Amber huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can just fire them all after she has won." Jessica shook her head. "There's one thing that father made sure of when he started Jung Internationals. The board consists of 5 people, excluding the CEO and the Vice-President. If they are very discontent with the way the CEO leads the company, they can decide together to put he or she off. That has to be, if every single one agrees that there has to get a new CEO. If Krystal eventually takes the company by force, she could loose it right at the second she sets a foot in the building. They had the right to do that. She won't be able to gather all of their hearts but she needs to at least have on friend who won't leave her side, otherwise she's done for. But then again, that will be very hard." Amber sighed excessively and ran roughly with her hand through her short hair, grunting softly. Even Krystal bit down on her lip. It indeed was going to become a rough battle, she realized. Her father would pull out every trick he had to get out of the documents she had and because of that, she might indeed loose her whole career. "Who're on the board?" Amber eventually asked. "Jasper Watson, Toby Young, Raphael Mitchell, Cooper Jackson and Parker Evans. The dispicable five," Krystal sighed bitterly. "There's no way we can convince them. They're dad's lap dogs. No way to beat them." Amber shook her head refusingly. "There must be someone who can help you." Krystal sighed and ran with her hand through her hair, hopelessly trying to find a solution. Watson and Young are family friends and the closests out of the whole board with her father. There was no way she could recruit them. Jackson was the youngest of all five — only thirty, a few years older than her — and she would've expected him to be the most open-minded, but he walked after her father like a lost puppy. His father had saved him from poverty by recognising his qualities which were excellently fit for the business life and for that he had always stayed so grateful to him that it was sickening to the stomach. That left Mitchell and Evans. She didn't know much about them, to be honest. Mitchell was the most quiet one during presentations and Evans had the biggest mouth. He liked to contradict her father when he was opposing new plans and pointed out flaws with a sharp eye. She'd like to have Evans in her team but she was afraid that she'd be overthrown. He was precious but therefor also very egocentric. He liked to climb up even farther. Nevertheless, Mitchell was too shy and toned down, plus the eldest of the five. His hair had grown white already and he honestly was the wisest out of all of them. But she didn't need an advisor but someone who could speak up for her. "I know what I'm going to do," Krystal murmured softly. The following day, Krystal made sure she stayed at the office late. Even though she and her father had had a fight, she was still left in charge of the company. Even her father knew it was better to stay in bed the next few days and prepare himself for the exhausting fight that was going to come instead of already tiring himself with needless work. He let Krystal be in charge for a few more days, and she pretended that nothing had happened. She knew Parker Evans liked to work extra hours. He was the kind of person who liked to show off and brag about all the extra hours he made. Those who knew him better knew he did it for a promotion. But because there was no status he was able to get promoted to, it was in vain. Even if Krystal was to become the CEO, she would not choose him as her Vice-President. He was too eager to raise higher. Krystal was ready to leave; she had her bag already packed, but she waited for Evans to enter her office. She had told him she wanted to have a small talk with him. A man like Evans, who was craving to get a higher position, would never refuse a talk with the next CEO, and so he didn't. She was just filling two cups of coffee when he entered the office. "Good evening, Krystal," he greeted her. "Likewise, Mr. Evans," she replied. "Please, take a seat." Evans took off the jacket of his suit and hung it over the back of his chair. He let himself fall in the leather chair, across from Krystal's desk, immediately spreading his legs and making himself comfertable. Krystal lifted her chin as she had to keep herself from looking disgusted. Evans was sometimes too much of a man for her; at least Kai crossed his legs. Krystal shoved the second cup of coffee in his direction. Evans took it in his right hand, took a sip and licked his lips afterwards, still trailing the taste of the strong drink. As he put the cup back on the desk, he pulled his tie a little looser. "I'm curious why you asked me to meet you, Ms Jung. It doesn't happen often that I get called in by the Vice-President. I hope it's only to discuss positive things?" Evans rose his grey eyebrows. They had recently turned grey, Krystal had noticed. He wasn't really old but his dark hair had grown into salt and pepper hair. His temples had turned grey whilst the top remained still sort of darker. Despite the greyness in his hair, his face was barely wrinkled, causing him to still look young. "Of course it is," Krystal smiled sourly. "Although... I am asking you for a favour. It's a proposal that only counts once. It lasts only this conversation and I will have to know your answer at the end of our talk." Evans squinted his eyes. He reseated himself, bowing a little bit foreward to her, softening and lowering his voice as if only she was supposed to hear this, despite them being the only one in the office. "Ms Jung.. whenever someone introduces a proposition like this to me like you just did, makes me wonder if what you're asking from me is really positive. You make it seem like it's secretive." Krystal chuckled. "I am proposing this to do you because you were selected because of your sharp eye. I wouldn't have expected anything less. You are right, to be clear. It is secretive." Evans took another sip of his coffee. "You make me curious, Krystal. An ambitious man like myself is easily tempted by gamling and I have a feeling that this proposition is something that will catch my attention." In fact, Krystal didn't like it much to be called by her first name by this man. The more often he opened his mouth, the bigger grew her dislike for him. But she needed him, she knew. And he was the one most likely to grab the bait, if only... she had something to trap him with. "Let's keep it to formalities, Mr Evans," Krystal said gruffly, which caused Evans to chuckle. "If we are going to be allies, we can at least call each other by our first name, can't we? And haven't we worked together for years already? But sure, if you prefer to. Just tell me what you're planning to do and... if it's tempting enough, I might give in to your wishes." "Of course. I'm sure you're aware that the board is able to fire a CEO if the job is not done properly," she started. Evans immediately frowned. "You're planning to overthrow your father? That's very risky, Krystal," he immediately warned. She almost wanted to correct him on her name, but she just had enough self-control to keep herself from doing that. "Let me finish, please, Mr Evans. I am not planning on overthrowing my father, I will overthrow my father, no matter what. But how I am going to do that, will be between me and my father. I will not ask the board for any help at court. But when I am CEO, I would prefer to stay in that position and not be kicked out the moment I begin my first day as leader of Jung Internationals. I want you to be the one who pleads for my case when one of the other board members is planning to overthrow me. It needs all five board members to make a decision like that. I want you to stand and stay by my side when one of them might want my father back. I am not planning on letting my effort go to waste." Evans started to chuckle. He looked at her with a certain interest that was hard to see through; she didn't know whether he was really interested in her deal or if he was just laughing at her because her plan was hopeless. But it was of utter importance that he accepted her conditions, otherwise he might start talking. When he was done laughing, Evans sat up straighter in his chair. "I never expected us to resemble each other so much, Ms Jung," he smiled. "I knew you're a hard working woman, but to see that your ambition matches mine surprises me. I never expected you to pull out such a filthy trick." Krystal cleared her throat and let out a nervous breath she hadn't known she had been holding. "Whether it's filthy or not, it's justified. You understand why I need your help, Mr Evans," she said. Evans nodded. "I obviously do understand. And I have to say, that it sure is interesting what you're offering me here. Of course, if you fail, I will loose my job as well because I turned against your father. It's a great risk. So I'm asking you, what are you offering me?" he asked. Krystal pressed her lips firmly upon each other. With diffeculty, she kept her voice from becoming annoyed. She could've known that he would want something in return. "I understand it's a risk for you, but I will not fail. Nevertheless, I will garantee you a large sum of money if you help me out," she said. "Money? But my dear Krystal, I already have money! Why would I want any of that?" Evans replied. Krystal frowned for a moment, but fixed the troubled expression in her eyes almost immediately when she realized what he was after. "You will become my VP, if that it what you want," she eventually said. She didn't even try to hide the forced undertone in her voice. Evans didn't seem to hear it though and otherwise didn't care, because he started to grin broadly. "You understand me, Ms Jung. I think we will be good partners," he said, as he stack out his hand, so she could shake it. Krystal took it and shook, but pulled her hand back quickly. Even though he had agreed to help her, her mood hadn't improved. She had known that he would try to get as much out of this deal as possible, but it nevertheless annoyed her. Evans stood up from his chair and so did Krystal. He took his jacket agan and put it back on, fastening one of the two button. "Good evening, Ms Jung," he smiled. As he turned around, he seemed to remember something, and turned back towards her. "Oh, and I need a document with your signature about our deal. Wouldn't want you to pull back when it doesn't suit you anymore, do we?" With a final smile, he turned around and left the office, leaving Krystal alone with herself and her thoughts.

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