#LOV YOU!!! sorry for dying and never responding

[discoidal]

🫶

<33333333333333

[dadsbongos]

the lov beach episode hori's too scared to give us

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: League of Villains/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: uhh idk actually, dabi's kinda horny ig, i don't usually include this as a warning but swearing (there's quite a bit of it), feminine pronouns Summary: this is just 1860 words of me shutting my eyes, plugging my ears and ignoring the current state of the manga (: (beach episode type beat) ~~~

Pulling the large sun hat tighter on her head, (Y/n) looks over as her leader strolls up to the van Spinner had stolen earlier in the day. She quirks a brow at the man, putting a gentle hand over his handheld and pushing it down when he doesn’t notice her, “That’s what you’re wearing?”

Tomura huffs and steps back, narrowed eyes focusing on his black jeans and hoodie, “What’s it to you?”

“You’re wearing a hoodie in this heat, first of all, and also - it says ‘12 year old in gaming mode’, you’re asking to get bullied.”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbles as he tries to find an insult for the woman before resigning himself to mumble out a, “you look like you raided a college chick’s closet” while returning to his game.

“I think she looks great!” Twice piped up from inside the large van before yelling once again, “Absolutely hideous!”

Dabi nodded slightly from his window seat, pulling the strings of his hood so as few inches of his face as possible were showing, “I agree with him.”

“Which part?” (Y/n) crossed her arms, shooting the man a glare.

“Yep.”

“Dickface,” she hissed, reaching up to swat at Dabi’s arm through the rolled down window before turning to climb into the van, “A dickface who is also wearing a black hoodie in this heat. You two are actual nutjobs.”

“Van’s got AC,” Dabi shrugged off her concerns, still not even looking her way as she settled into the seat between him and Twice, “Didn’t know you cared so much, doll. Pretty sweet of you.”

“If you pass out from a heat stroke, I’m not the one taking you to the hospital,” she leaned over into the midrow seats of the van to glare at Tomura as he sat down, “That goes for you, too.”

“I’m not the one with a fire Quirk.”

“Just get Himiko some blood and she’ll take ‘em in all disguised! Let them die!” Twice pitched in with his own ideas, earning a shoulder pat from the woman.

“Good ideas, big guy, I like them.”

“Rude ass,” Dabi kicks at (Y/n)’s leg.

“I’m your boss, if you let me die you’re fucked.”

“Nobody’s dying on this trip, what the fuck are you guys talking about?” Spinner already appeared exasperated with the group and he’d barely been in the car for a second.

Compress got into the passenger seat as Spinner buckled into the driver’s side, he looked around before noticing an absence, “Where’s Toga?”

Suddenly, the door to Tomura’s seat is lugged open with a force, an overly excited blond teenager jumping over her boss and into the open seat beside him.

“You could’ve just gotten in on the other side,” Tomura clenches a fist to keep himself from slapping Himiko’s arm and causing a deathly accident.

“I didn’t know which side you were sitting on, so I just guessed!” Himiko giggles as Spinner starts the car.

“Asshole,” Tomura shakes his head, “This trip is pointless.”

“Kurogiri wants us to bond and stop fighting all the time,” Compress cuts in, “That’s why I’m in charge.”

“We’re adults- " (Y/n) interrupts herself, “Dabi, roll up the window, we’re pulling out of the safe zone.”

Dabi merely keeps his eyes closed behind his sunglasses and presses his head back against the neck rest of his seat.

“Roll up the window.”

“God, these winds are fuckin’ noisy, huh?”

“I hear ya, man!” Twice shouts before shaking his head, “Dabi, be nice to (Y/n). She’s your elder.”

“By a fucking year! Man, fuck you, Dabi,” the woman reaches over and presses the button to roll up the window herself, “Motion sickness or not, you don’t get to be a douche.”

“It’s actually exactly what it means, doll. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Stop calling me doll.”

“Ugh,” he grins at his own upcoming remark, “the princess makes a harsh demand.”

“I’m this close,” she pats his chest to make sure he opens his eyes before holding her index finger and thumb nearly pinched together in front of his face, “to beating your ass.”

“Here,” he reaches up and takes her fingers and clenches them together, “now you have to. As soon as we get to the beach, you have to fight me or else you’re a coward and a liar.”

(Y/n) grits her teeth and snaps her eyes shut, “I’m gonna lose it,” she leans into Twice’s side and looks up at him, smiling at the slightest hint of a concerned look behind his mask, “How’ve you been, big guy?”

“Perfectly fine!” he shakes his head before whispering, “I didn’t piss before we left and now I regret it.”

“Aw, want Spinner to pull over?”

“I think he’ll crash the car if I ask.”

“He’d be killing himself too, so I don’t think he’d be too cool with that.”

Twice quiets down as he notices the woman’s eyes beginning to flutter shut with drowsiness. Then, a sense of guilt beats at him as he sees the serene expression crossing his friend’s face. So calm and sweet - he truly adored his friend, and he wanted to do right by her. So, leaning down, he murmurs, “Sorry for calling you old.”

(Y/n)’s eyes dart open and immediately find Twice, she raises a brow at the man and shakes her head as her eyes slowly begin closing again, “I… it’s fine, dude, don’t worry about it.”

Dabi, as usual, is quick to jump into a conversation that was never his, “Old lady tempers, gotta be careful around them.”

“I swear to fucking God, Dabi!”

“What? What do you swear?”

“Shut the hell up!” Spinner snapped at children in the back seat, “You’re distracting me, loud asses.”

“Dabi started it!”

“I’m ending it!”

“Stop yelling,” Tomura commanded the group, carefully stuffing his handheld into his large front hoodie pocket and resting his head back, “I’m going to sleep and if I get woken up, I’ll kill you all.”

None of them believed him - not at all - but out of an odd respect for their leader’s need for rest, they stayed relatively silent as he slept. Murmurs and whispers being the loudest volume of their voices as Tomura snoozed in the van.

Eventually, Spinner came to the reserved spot on the beach that Kurogiri definitely didn’t hire people to kill civilians over. Himiko leaned over and gently shook Tomura awake as Compress popped the trunk to the van. (Y/n) shifted toward Dabi to ensure he was also awake and starting to feel less queasy before getting out of the middle seat so he and Twice could exit.

“Alright, there’s changing rooms…” Compress trailed off, looking around before sighing, “Nowhere in sight.”

“I’m already fine,” (Y/n) waved off, grabbing towels and an umbrella from Spinner, “You guys can take turns changing in the van while I set shit up.”

“I call first!” Himiko cheered, excitedly bouncing back into the van as the men all walked off to provide the teenager the privacy and distance she needed.

(Y/n) did as she’d said and began laying down towels and propping up parasols in the sand to provide shade. As more and more of her friends collected themselves along the beach, she spotted her almighty leader once again making a fashion mistake.

Bright, neon green and orange striped swim trunks hung over his hips and he didn’t avoid the woman’s stare. She purses her lips, “Who the hell goes clothes shopping for you? They shouldn’t be making executive decisions like this.”

Tomura shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?! Shigaraki, you have to be fucking with me.”

“I’m not,” he sits down on a towel under the parasol’s shade and returns to his gaming, “It’s probably Kurogiri but it isn’t like I ask him.”

“Holy shit. You’re an actual man-child.”

“Oh no, what gave me away?” he sarcastically whines, rolling his eyes at her.

“You being shameless about it is slightly worse…”

“(Y/n)!” Himiko cheerily calls, “Come join me in volleyball!”

“Is Twice playing?”

The blond looks over to the man in question and nods in approval.

“Are Quirks allowed?”

Another nod.

(Y/n) pats Compress’ shoulder, “I’ll let you take this game.”

Dabi comes up from behind while Spinner serves the ball on the beach, he’s removed his hoodie and now only rests in loose shorts that come to his knees and a white shirt. He scratches the back of his head in an uncharacteristically unnerved manner, “Not swimmin’?”

He earns a small shrug in response from the woman, “I’m not all too committed to the idea. At least not now.”

Nodding slowly, Dabi sits down at the edge of the towel unoccupied by Tomura and begins pulling at the fraying threads.

Sighing to herself, (Y/n) is slightly ashamed at how easily her heart softens upon noticing how uncomfortable Dabi seems. He doesn’t usually show as much skin as he is - which isn’t much - and he doesn’t usually throw himself into events where he’d be forced to interact with the others. He feels naked on the beach and he’d rather be dead than continue to suffer this embarrassment. And so, a body comes down onto the towel with his.

“Want company, misery?”

“Baking to death in the sun couldn’t get worse, even if it’s with you,” Dabi leaned back to rest against the woman’s legs.

“Wow,” (Y/n) fauxly gasped, sarcasm ripe in her words, “You being sweet? I never thought I’d never see the day.”

“Right? Thought I’d be dead by now,” his head tips back even more to lay it’s full weight on her legs, “You’re comfortable to rest on, old lady.”

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”

“You still owe him an ass-beating from the car ride,” Tomura jumped in, a snarky smile on his lips as he spoke.

“I’m starting to think you won’t actually beat my ass,” Dabi grins smugly, “Like me too much.”

“I would destroy you in a fight, Dabi.”

“Hm, well, until you stop being a pussy and actually fight me, doesn’t sound like that’s the truth.”

“I swear to- " (Y/n) loudly huffs and cuts herself off before groaning, Dabi- "

“I’m no God,” Dabi paused to wink like the cheap bastard he is, “Unless you want me to be.”

Before the woman can respond, there’s a “heads up!” shouted by Himiko and a volleyball is hurtling towards the arguing duo. Tomura immediately leans over, not quite paying attention and sticks a hand out to block the ball, accidentally decaying it in the process. The leader comes to a stand and tosses up his hands, “What the shit, Toga?”

“Man,” the teenager whined, stomping her foot in the sand, “you destroyed the ball.”

“You almost destroyed (Y/n)’s face!” Tomura's voice quiets and softens to avoid upsetting the young girl over a mistake, “There’s probably another ball in the trunk.”

“I said ‘heads up’,” Himiko rolled her eyes, sending Twice off to find the spare volleyball in question.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, “Oh, so all better, then?”

“Exactly!”

“No! That’s not how that works, Toga!”

Dabi snickered at the back-and-forth before giving a mock dreamy sigh, “Ahh, the sound of Kurogiri’s bonding plan working perfectly.”

[mar-iiposa]

prompt: the boys somehow get into a tickle fight with their crush (not s/o yet), and when they ask "what's the magic word?" when asked to stop, the reader confesses their feeling for them and soon realizes afterwards

a/n: didn't know if you wanted this as a story or headcanon, so I'm turning this into a headcanon if that's alright ! also, I love this headcanon, it's so cute :')

warnings: none, just some fluff and a small innuendo !

Leonardo

you're on your phone, lying on leo's bed, peacefully scrolling through your app, pinterest.

you back and feet were really killing you.

leo needed to meditate a bit after some patrol. he and raph had gotten into a heated 'discussion' while roaming across rooftops above ground, he didn't care for the arguments that sometimes ensued between the brothers.

your eyes flicker up at him and offer a closed-mouth smile, "you alright?"

leonardo gives you a silent nod, elbows on his knees after sitting on the navy blue comforter, once he hung up his katanas to the wall.

"what are you looking through?" he peeks over at your phone's screen. you're staring back at your phone, eyes glued to the device.

"oh, I dunno. just some pins I think are nice. you know, pictures for fashion ideas, decor, skateboarding, whatever I like on here."

"any ideas for hanging out with your favorite person?"

you grin at him, "I haven't thought about that yet."

"well I've got ideas on 'how to entertain your best friend.'"

"really, huh?"

"yeah, this for example." he snatches the phone from the grip of your hand, tossing it to the other end of the bed and out of your nearest reach, confusing you.

until you get the memo when he starts to attack your sides, throwing you into a frenzy of giggles.

"le- leo! stop, I'm not kiddi—OH MY GOD!"

he's got a pleased smile all over his face right now, grinning as his fingers moved against your ribs.

although he would have enjoyed much different scenarios of holding you by your waist, this was his favorite by far, even so that you're just platonic friends as of right now.

"ple- PLEASE let go! let me go!"

decided on teasing you further, he leaned down to the side of your face, just beside your ear, having you pinned down under him,

"what's the magic word, princess?"

you're distracted by his hands trailing up and jumping towards your neck, you're squirming at the fun yet painful sensation.

"I love you! let me go!"

the leader's hands stop at your request, so you think. but really, it was the confession that made him quit the playful act.

"alright. I'll be over there, in the Hashi, so."

you smiled at him, the corners your e/c eyes crinkled, "okay."

"okay."

wait a fucking minute--

Raphael

okay so,,

he really loves to tickle you.

like, he REALLY fucking loves to tickle you.

currently, you're trying your best to fall asleep and take a nap. It's been a rough, stressful day enough, and you needed to wind down for a good forty minutes.

"can't sleep?"

you shook your head from side-to-side, opening one eye to look over at raph.

"yeah, can't."

there's a small minute of pure silence, and to your frustration, raphael notices the sour expression crossing you.

and out of completely nowhere, you feel his touch on you.

you spend no time in jolting up from the couch, yelping immediately.

"raph! sto- sto- hAH! sto-OP I-IT!"

"you said you couldn't sleep. so I'm doin ya a favor."

this fucker is trying to make you tired.

"I didn't a-ask for a- ! RAPH!"

he's totally grinning down at you, with a playful glint in his eyes.

HE JUST WILL NOT STOP.

"what's the magic word, doll?"

"I luh- H AH! I LOVE yo-HU!"

he smiled in complete awe now, though, he kept on going. even if you just confessed your love to him, he had no mercy at all.

"oka- oka-HEY! I'M GONNA PISS MYSELF!"

after a good while after hearing that, he quickly pulls his hands away from you.

you catch your breath, panting to yourself.

"did I make ya tired now?"

"yeah, will that be the only time though?" you playfully wink.

Donatello

both of you are in his lab. you're totally bored.

although at times you were a science type of person, you could get bored very easily.

or distracted.

like now.

you get up from your seat behind donnie, touching some of the past projects he had previously worked on before.

"don't touch that please, hon."

you were bored. incredulously bored. But even though you listened to him and obeyed him as your dear, best friend,

you didn't give a fuck right now.

you're his friend. it was sort of your job to bug and joke around with him.

you continue touching some of his belongings, still trying to be careful with objects you knew could be potentially harmful to you and the others.

"I wonder what this thing doe--"

"I told you to stop touching things, y/n."

without warning, you felt the tips of his fingers rake across your sides at a fast pace. you wriggle in his grasp, leaning forward.

you roar into multiple fits of laughter, your face growing a hot, bright red.

"oh m- Donnie! Don- Donni-! I'll stop, I'll sto--! HAHA! PLEASE!"

he's amused now, seeing you this way. why hadn't he tickled you this much before?

"will you stop touching my things then? hm?"

"y-yES!"

"what's the magic word, y/n?"

"I don--! I dunno- HAH!"

"oh, yes you do."

"I lo-! I love you!? I'm so- soh- soRRY!"

he picks you up, setting you back down onto your seat.

the realization hit you. fast.

"you do, really?"

he has the biggest shit-eating, nerdy grin on his face right now.

Michelangelo

literal master of tickling.

seriously, he loves to do such tickle attacks on you when least expected.

but he never expected you to return them.

currently playing with a video game with his custom (cred to donnie) controllers, his tongue lazily stuck out, while his baby blue eyes glued to the screen, deep in focus.

"mikey? mikeyyyy!"

he doesn't respond, only acknowledging the game right now.

instead of his best friend.

you're about to leave when, suddenly, you get the greatest idea of all ideas.

no, you're not going to unplug the console.

quietly as you can be, you tip-toed behind him, his rough shell facing you.

you barely jump on him from behind, hands going to the crook of his neck, and your fingers start doing their thing.

he nearly throws the controller towards the wall, erupting into fits of giggles and laughter.

and without a second thought, mikey grabs you, switching to hover above you.

now it's his turn to tickle you.

so you're the new one dying of laughter.

"really, dudette? you thought you could outsmart me?!"

he loves seeing your smile while wiggling under his hold on you.

"mikEY! MICHAEL!"

hearing the use of the name "michael", he starts to tickle you even more.

"say the words!"

"n-! no-HOH!"

"sayy it!"

"I lov-! love you!"

"you love me? as a friend?"

he stopped tickling you instantly. and you sit up straight away.

you are as red as raph's own mask.

"uhm-"

"I love you too."

he's wiggling his "brows" at you, and you groan in annoyance.

you really did love this idiot.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Flock Together (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Appearances by Dabi, Shigaraki, and Mr. Compress

@dastfast678 requested: “Could you make a another LOV X child!reader, one where the hero's try to "recused" Y/N but they just tells them off?”

Genre: Slight angst

Word Count: 1,442

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​

a/n: Thanks for the request! I’m sorry it took so long to do...

Yes, the title is akin to the "birds of a feather" saying.  I will also tell you guys that in this universe, if the League ever got caught before things blew up to as big as they've gotten in the manga, the villains would have pulled a Gentle Criminal for the reader.  You’ll see why I say that later.

This is still in the same continuity as my other LoV posts, but it can also be a different one as well.  Not that I’m planning anything for it, but I think it’s just nice to keep a similar timeline between some of my posts I guess.

Funny how I always end up running when I'm faced with important milestones. I ran when I realized my parents were gone right into the hands of people I thought were going to kill me.  And they turned out to be much better than I expected, I have to say.

My former classmate at UA had found me while I was out to get food for the League.  They were really craving pizza today and now I have to run.  I'm gonna get an earful from them later for coming back late.

They were gonna find me eventually, I should've been prepared.  I never even thought of the excuse I was going to use when they inevitably did.

A hand catches my shoulder and I almost scream, only to turn around and see Kaminari.  Damnit, I thought he hadn't seen me.  When I caught him walking the opposite way as me, I'd hoped I could get away before he realized it was me.

He smiles naturally.  "Hey, (Y/n)!  I thought I saw you walking around here!"  Before I can say anything he grips me into a tight hug.  "Gosh, we were all worried about you!  Where have you been all this time?"

I pry his grip off of me gently.  "I've just...been here, you know, living my life."

For a moment, Kaminari hesitates before he whines out an exhale.  "Agh, I can't do this.  (Y/n), they kinda sent me to...rescue you, because we had the best relationship."

I furrow my eyebrows "Rescue me?"  Should've known.  At least they didn't send Midoriya.

"Yeah, sorry about this."

Kaminari suddenly drags me by the arm into the nearest alley.  "What the hell-!?"  Soon I'm faced with two other figures, both of of them I know very well also.  Damnit, they did send Midoriya.

"Before you say anything, no one else knows we're here, it's just us," Midoriya blurts out.

"I'm surprised Todoroki isn't here," I respond lamely, sighing at the mini intervention. "It's usually the two of you acting on whims together."

"It was my idea this time," Kaminari admits as he rubs the back of his neck.  "The school's officially taking you off the roster and we at least wanted to look for you one last time."

My fist clenches and I look down.  "I didn't know I'd be so missed."

"We were very worried about you!  It's not becoming of a young hero-in-training to miss class!" Iida chops at the air.  It's nice to know he hasn't changed much.

"How did you guys even know I was here?"

"That's not important," Midoriya answers quickly and takes a step towards me.  Concern fills his face.  "(Y/n), please come back.  We don't know why you left, but we can sort it out."

I'm silent, holding his pleading gaze with my own icy stare.  "You guys said no one else knows you're here.  Keep it that way and leave.  No one else needs to know where I am or what I'm doing."  I turn to walk away.

"Are you with the League?"  Kaminari's voice sounds broken, a stark contrast from his usual upbeat, dorky tone.

I'm taken aback by how he could've known that, but I brush it off.  "That's none of your business."

He forces out a nervous laugh.  "I think I get it, you want to stay and gather intell-"

"No, I'm staying because I want to stay."  My conviction is firm.  There's no point in denying it.

Iida pushes up his glasses.  "It looks like they've brainwashed you, (Y/n)-san, this isn't like you.  You were always so quiet-"

"Yeah, but you had no idea why!"  I close my eyes and breath.  It's not worth it to blow up and tell them everything that's happened, it's in the past and I'm working on resolving it myself.  "I don't need to be a hero anymore, it won't solve my problems like I thought before."

"So you'd rather be a villain?!  Taking innocent lives?!"

"I don't do any of that!" I snarl back at him.

"But you will eventually!"

"And I'll figure it out when the time comes!"  Their faces fall.  "They may be villains, but they've helped me so much more than when I was in UA!  I feel safe with them.  They're my new family, and I'm staying with them."

"Well, that's touching."

The boys in front of me stiffen at the voice behind me.  I turn to see Shigaraki, Dabi, and Mr. Compress approaching in the darkness of the alleyway.

"We were wondering what was taking you so long, so we had to come check," the masked man haughtily explains, dropping a hand on top of my head.  My former classmates go pale at the sight.  They probably think he was going to hurt me.

"We meet again, Midoriya Izuku."  Shigaraki's cracked lips turn up into a crazed smirk and Midoriya gulps.

"UA kids all alone, huh," Dabi comments.  "What was their big plan?  To come kidnap you back to them?  They would have to do through us first."  His palm lights up with blue flames.  "I'm sure Toga would've liked to see this boy again."

"I've been dying to try my new trick on someone!"  Compress waves his hands dramatically, a few marbles appearing between his fingers.  "I've got the props all ready right here!"

"Don't hurt them," I say blankly.  I don't have much power over them, but I can at least give my opinion.  "It's not worth getting into a struggle with them now."

"(Y/n)'s right," Shigaraki sighs and buries his hands in his pockets.  "Besides, my stomach's eating itself I'm so hungry.  We can settle this another day."

The three of them start exiting and I want to follow behind them, but Kaminari catches my shoulder.  "Are you really going with them?  You chose them over us?"  His crestfallen expression tugs at a soft spot in my chest, but I've already reached a point where it doesn't sway me.

I shrug him off.  "You're lucky you're getting out of here without struggle because of me."  My voice and my glare are icy toward each of them before  I turn and follow the rest out of the alley.  "The next time we see each other, we'll be on different sides.  I hope you'll be prepared to see me again when it happens."

There's a bitter taste in my mouth as we leave the alleyway.  It's not like I feel nothing for them, they were my former classmates after all.  The regret I sometimes feel is something more akin to curiosity than anything.  If I hadn't run into the League, where would I be?  Would I be content the same way as I am now?  Am I content?  Is this the best I could be doing?

Did I make the right choice?

"Listen kid."  Dabi hangs back a little since I'm falling behind from the rest of them.  "I don't have the right to tell you what decision you should've made in your life or ask why you decided to live with a bunch of raggedy good-for-nothings like us," he looks up at the other two and leans over, "But if you wanted to walk away from all of this, you still can."

My eyes widen, and for a moment, all the memories of my time in the League come rushing back.  All the laughs we shared, the late nights they helped me get through, playing games with them, the take out nights like these.  They aren't my family, but it's the closest thing I have to something like that.  Even the thought of leaving them leaves a devastating sinking feeling in my chest.  "Never," I gasp, breath taken from me at the suggestion.

The man scans me, cocking an eyebrow.  "You'd really rather be associated with lawbreakers just because we took you in?"

My face falls.  "Is that a bad thing?"

He pauses, not having anything to say to that, and there's a trace of shock in his features.  His face relaxes and he clasps his hands behind his neck casually.  "I guess you really do fit with us, you've got issues."

I can't help but smile at his words; it's the closest I'll get to him explicitly admitting his appreciation for me.  "I don't think it's the issues, it's the broken-ness."

"No kid, you're just weird."  His large, burnt hand plops on top of my head as he sighs.  "Ah, we're gonna have to move hideouts again.  I was actually liking this place."

"The pizza here is most delicious!" Compress pipes up in agreement.

"Ugh, this is why we can't have nice things, you guys always ruin it," Shiguraki groans.  "Goodbye, delicious and crunchy thin crust pizza..."

"Oh, don't be a drama queen," Dabi rolls his eyes.

Well, regardless of if this was a correct decision, I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.  All this might be worth all the trouble I'll get into in the future.

[rrickgrrimes8]

Normality is Death

Chapter Thirteen ~ Philippians 1:29

masterlist

"C'mon baby lets go back to our room," Lori said to Jacey, Carl already holding her hand. Jacey nodded following a part of her family down the halls. 

"What's happening, mom?" Carl asked as he watched Lori go to the air vent feeling no air come out, "Mom? Something wrong?" 

Jacey watched her apprehensive mother, "Uh, nothing. It's just... just the air conditioning stopped." 

Lights went out soon after that too which agitated Lori more as did the disappearance of her husband. Sitting at the foot of her parents' bed, she watched as she left the room to talk to Doctor Jenner as he passed quickly. "What's wrong, Jacey?" She heard Addie call to her. 

"Please leave me alone," her hands found their ways to her ears once again seeking to block out any noise. 

"Jacey? You're scaring me... what's wrong?" Addie called to her again, causing her to look up only to see her younger brother worried, "What's wrong, Jacey?" 

"Uh... nothing, squirt. I'm fine," She stuttered, paralyzed by her shock, "Where's mom?" 

"Went after that Doctor. Sent me back to get you," Carl smiled, still perturbed, "You coming?" 

"Yep, Let's go, squirt."

The two younger Grimes' entered the hysterical room, passing their frightful mother on the way out, "Mom what's happening?" Lori didn't respond though, as she continued to run down the corridor and back to the room. Jacey caught wind of Jenner's words about how the French were the last ones to hold out. Well, that was until the fuel ran out. It sunk in deep with the child, there was no cure and there never will be - everything is gone.

Jacey, grabbing the hand of her brother, ran into the room eyeing the now sealed doors. "No. Did you just lock us in?" Glenn panicked, "He just locked us in!" Carl held her hand tighter, the loud noises and consternation becoming at once too much for him. Jacey saw Edwin take a seat at his desk and begin to talk to a camera. 

Bold lettering violated her eyes as the screen switched to black with the red-lettered words of '30 minutes to decontamination'. "Carl! Jacey!" she heard her mom bellow, quickly finding them. Dropping her bags, she wrapped her arms around the two children, kissing both of their heads. 

Daryl endeavoured over to the man in a fit of rage, yelling at him something Jacey couldn't quite catch but was quickly stopped by Shane. She watched as her father pleaded with the stubborn man to open the door, to which he refused. "What happens in 28 minutes?" Rick yelled to the man after he had ignored him the first time. 

"Come on!" Daryl encouraged threatening him with a glass bottle. 

"You know what this place is?!" He snapped, "We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!" Jenner stops to breathe slowly, "In the event of a catastrophic power failure - in a terrorist attack, for example - H.I.T are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out." 

"H.I.T's?" Rick asked. 

"VI, define," he ordered. 

"H.I.T's - high impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist," VI continued but Jacey just blocked it out. They were going to die. They were all going to die. Rick walks over to his family joining in on their hug, mortified by the news. Jacey, however, felt okay, fine really. It didn't bother her that she was about to die - her death never seemed to scare her. What did bother her though was that her family would die too. Carl was too young to die she thought to herself. 

"It sets the air on fire. No pain," Jenner told them after VI had finished, "an end to sorrow, grief... regret. Everything." Jacey smiled through her tears, she was almost looking forward to it as dark as that sounded but she just wanted some peace, a rest. She watched as many grew angry - and in Daryl's case - violent with the doctor. 

Shane and T-dog stayed by the door throwing any and everything they had at it, but none of it making a dent. "You should've left well enough alone... it would have been so much easier," Jenner lent back in his chair, unbothered by the chaos he had created. 

"Easier for who?" Lori spat, clearly angry with the man's decision yet still a great amount of sadness in her words, knowing her children were about to die when they're lives really had just begun. 

"All of you. You know what's out there. A short brutal life and agonizing death," Jacey understood this and observed as he looked to her, "The people you lost, what was their names?" 

"Mitch and Addie," she replied not entirely sure on how he knew, while Rick looked to the man threateningly not wanting her daughter to have any part in his manipulation. 

"And you? Your sister?" he asked now to Andrea, the following was a quiet 'Amy'. "Addie, Mitch and Amy," He looked between Andrea and the girl, "You know what this does. You've seen it. Is that what you really want for your wife, daughter and son?" 

Now looking at Rick. "I don't want this," He almost cried emphatically. 

"Can't make a dent," Shane shouted to Rick, alarmed. 

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Jenner said almost comedically. 

"Well, your head ain't!" Daryl screamed, making his way over to the doctor, axe ready. Dale, Rick and Shane come together once more to hold Daryl and his clear anger issues back, "Daryl! Daryl!" 

T-dog soon wrestled the weapon off of him as Jenner continued to Rick, "You do want this. Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead." Lori's face drops at his words, while Jacey detaches herself from her mother and brother, planting herself on one of the many identical tables. 

"What? You really said that? After all your big talk?" Shane expectorated, almost betrayed at the doctor's words. 

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" He justified to Lori. 

"There is no hope. There never was." 

"There's always hope. Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here but somebody somewhere-" 

"What part of 'everything is gone' do you not understand?" the younger girl interrupted her father, earning an approving nod from Andrea but a pained look from her family. 

"Listen to your daughter," Jenner advised, "She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event." 

"This isn't right. You can't keep us here," Carol cried, "my daughter doesn't deserve to die like this." 

"Wouldnt it be kinder, more compassionate just to hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run out?" Carol still cries as she holds her daughter, but Jacqui nods her head slightly. 

Much like what happened with Daryl, Shane came to the doctor pointing a shotgun right at his face, but this time Rick intervened, "Out of the way, Rick! Stay out of my way! Open that door, or I'm going to blow your head off. Do you hear me?" Jenner remained emotionless as the officer continued to aim for his head. 

"Brother, brother, this is not the way you do this. We will never get out of here, " Rick reminded him. Instead, in a fit of anger, Shane begins to shoot at the computer screens randomly, everyone cowering away from the shots. "We all die, Shane!" he reminded before struggling to get the gun away from him, "Are you done now? Are you done?" 

"Yeah, I guess we all are," Shane disputed. 

"I think you're lying," Rick said to Edwin, "You're lying about no hope. If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn't. You chose the hard path, why?" 

"It doesn't matter," Jenner sheepishly said. 

"It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?" 

"Not because I wanted to. I made a promise," he proceeded to point towards the screen, "To her. My wife." 

"Test subject 19 was your wife?" Lori questioned sympathetically.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?" Jenner paused, looking to Daryl, who continued to use his axe against the door no matter how useless it was, "She was dying. It should've been me on that table. I wouldn't have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field, she was Einstein. Me? I'm just... Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me." Jacey sighed, feeling the pain of his loss substantially. 

Rick pleaded once more, "Your wife didn't have a choice. You do. That's... that's all we want a choice... a chance." 

"You let us keep trying as long as we can," Lori added. 

Jenner moves over to the desk picking up what looked like a security pad and said, "I told topside's locked down. I can't open those." 

Seconds later, the doors open and everyone begins to rush out of them, "There's your chance. Take it" 

"I'm grateful," Rick smiled, lifting his hand for him to shake. 

"The day will come when you won't be," Jenner said before shaking Rick's hand and whispering something in his ear. 

"You can't go, you know that, right?" Addie says, her voice kinder now, which Jacey was more grateful for. 

"I know. I want to be with you again," Jacey looked to the girl reluctantly, hoping that the walker won't appear again. 

Addie's face - her normal one - came into view, blooming a big smile on the younger girls face, "And you will, love. I'm never going to leave you again, I promise." 

"I love you, Addie." 

"I lov-" Addie's voice was interrupted by a male one "Jacey, c'mon, angel, grab your things. Let's go." 

Jacey shook her head at the man she realised to be her father, "I-I'm not coming." Rick stopped, hoping his ears were deceiving him but then looked at her tear-covered face and realised. 

"No, you're not, baby. Let's go," Lori shouted from behind Rick. 

"Lori just go. Get the others out of here," he ordered his wife, "We're right behind you." The rest of the group stampeded out of the room, Lori and Carl lingering for a short minute, hoping Rick will be able to convince her to join them. 

"Tell him you're sorry, Jace," Addie whispered, holding her hand. 

"I'm sorry but I-I can't." 

"Yes you can, Jacey, please. You're not thinking straight," Rick prayed that she'd see reason and join them, but his heart stopped when she shook her head. 

"I can't anymore, dad. I'm so tired." Jacey looked around the room, seeing that not only Jenner was still here but so was Jacqui and Andrea. 

An arm snaked over her shoulder, squeezing it gently, an arm, belonging to Mitchell, "Tell him to leave, babydoll, and then you'll be with us forever."

 She smiled at his words and then returned her eyes to her father's blue ones, "You have to leave. I want to stay with them." 

"I'm not leaving you here, angel," He cried, tightly holding the sides of her face. 

"Addie was only 16, dad, Mitch was 25. We had children in our camp. I-I should've died with them. I don't deserve to live when they had to die." 

"Listen to me, Jace, you survived for a reason, okay? You don't have to agree with me, but whoever is up there, whatever is in charge made it so you weren't there. So you wouldn't die. They wouldn't want you to die here and now. Your story is not over yet. I won't allow it," Rick wailed, heavier than earlier as he watched his daughter looked to her left and right as if looking at people that weren't there, "Your death isn't going to bring them back." 

"I can't leave them, daddy," She paused, "I already hurt them enough." 

"Who are you talking about, angel?" his voice breaking slightly. 

"Addie and Mitchell," Jacey told him as if it was obvious, "I can't leave them alone again." 

"Addie and Mitchell are dead, baby. They're not here anymore," the man pleaded with his deluded daughter. 

"No," she argued, squeezing her eyes shut, "shut up. You're lying, they're here with me now, they want me to stay. She promised me she wouldn't leave again," Jacey cried, looking at Addie and Mitchell, slowly seeing them morph into their walker forms, "Oh god. No, not again, please, not again. They're going to hurt me, daddy. They're going to hurt me like I hurt them." 

"Hey baby, look at me, only me, okay?" he stopped her from looking to where he assumed she saw them, "No one's gonna hurt you. Addie and Mitchell are gone. They can't hurt you, alright? Now we've got to go, angel, before it's too late." Jacey wanted to nod, to go with him, but the grip that Addie and Mitchell had on her tightened, making her let out a small cry. 

At once, they both turned into their undead self's clawing at her skin instead of holding it, "You can't leave, Jacey. Not when you did this to us." 

"No! Shut up! Leave me alone! I want to live! I don't want to die!" Rick watched the girl breakdown her hands beginning to claw away at any visible skin. The man grabbed her hands, stopping the movement before looking over to the timer seeing it hit the 5-minute mark. 

"I'm sorry, Jacey. I'm so sorry baby," Jacey heard him cry before feeling him move away from her. 

"Jacey, look at me, sweetheart," A kind, shaky voice begged of her. Jacey turned to meet their eyes, seeing a crying Jacqui, "You gotta go, darling, please."

"I can't, Jacqui. I can't keep going on like this," She paused, "I'm not strong enough."

"Yes you are, child. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, don't ever trick yourself into thinking you're not," Jacqui apprised the younger girl.

"I'm not as strong as you think, Jacqui. Nowhere even close."

"That's where your wrong, sweetheart. You've got a lot of heart and if do say so myself a lot of balls," She smiled at her, "You're gonna survive this world, I'm sure of it." Jacqui stops speaking as she looked at the girl, aware of the mental state, "Look, sweetie, I'm not gonna force you outta that door, as much as I'd like too. I don't want you to die today, Jacey, but it seems like it's going that way so let me tell you something, okay?" Jacey nodded, "And you gotta promise me the moment you understand it you'll leave, you'll survive," she nodded once more, "Philippians 1:29; For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him but also to suffer for his sake." Jacey stayed silent not quite comprehending the meaning of the passage. 

"I don't understand, I don't get it, Jacqui," She cried into her palms.

"That's okay, sweetie, just breathe..." Jacqui refrained, "It means your pain has a purpose, whatever that purpose may be." 

"Do you understand now?" 

Jacey shook her head sadly, "That's okay, take your rest. I will see you once more in another life." Jacey watched as the older woman rejoined Jenner at his computer and observed as she wished that their conversation had gone another way and in some way Jenner also did.

"You have to stay Jace. You said you understood that. Everything will be better if you do," Addie warned, "If you go you will kill every single one of them out there. Do you want that? Do you want them dead? Your dad? Your mom? Carl?" Jacey shook her head manically, her mind flashing unforgiving images of their bodies eaten and unmoving, "So stay with me, my love. Stay, and I'll love you forever." 

Jacey nodded at her before muttering, "I'll love you forever too," causing Addie to smile. Jacey began to move closer to the dark-skinned girl, her face returning back to her natural one. 

"I wanna kiss you, Jace," Addie parted her lips inching towards Jace's. 

"Me too," She replied, shyness shrouding her confidence. 

But before their lips could touch, the masculine voice returned, "I'm sorry, Jacey," following a sharp twinge in her neck. Immediately, she felt a rush of dizziness hit her, Addie and Mitchell disappearing shortly afterwards, "no." She fell off her chair and into a pair of muscular arms, "I'm sorry, angel." 

"Addie," she cried before the darkness took over her. 

[dabisangel]

Hey boo you write Dabi beautifully! You deserve lots of love💖 if I may, can I please request an angsty fic where Dabi has a near death experience, really thinks it's his end and civilian!reader somehow saves him (right place right time) he think he dreamt her up before he almost dies and they some how cross paths again and becomes infactuated with her ? (Sorry it's super long) if you're not feeling this it's all good 💖💖

OMg thank you for sending this ask. I kind of went out of control and wrote 4k words for it. I hope I did your idea justice! 💖

“Infatuated”

Pairing: Dabi X Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Near-death experience, stalking.

Word Count: 4619

——————————————————————————————————

Dabi was no stranger to being in dangerous situations, but then again life comes at you fast.

His body laid on the cold pavement. Heaving sounds leaving his lips as his chest rose and fell quickly.

‘Is this really how I meet my end?’ his mind began to swirl and every alarm for survival was blaring in his head. 

 He knew that it was only a matter of time before he bled out. 

The bastards that ambushed him made sure of that. 

They’d followed him after recognizing him at the infamous “Blue Flame”, wanting to see if he was as strong as they’d heard he was. 

As he laid on the pavement he retraced the moments in the alley just moments before. He had already been tired before they attacked, and he was nearing his limit with his quirk. Under the dull ache of his stab wound, he could still feel the burning sensation on his skin. They’d attacked him relentlessly, and he couldn’t manage to defend himself. Much to Dabi’s surprise, when it came to the final blow, the tallest of the 3 men stopped suddenly. 

“It looks like you’re not nearly as strong as the media makes it out to be.” The men loomed over his body, making eye contact before crouching close to him. 

“And now…..” he grinned widely. “You’ll die in the street. Like a dog.”

Dabi didn’t have the energy to respond, and he clutched at the deep stab wound in his side. 

The men kicked at him a few times before leaving, snickering as they sauntered away from the alley. 

It had been 10 minutes since then. And he was in absolute agony.

Tears pricked his eyes as he stared up at the night sky. ‘There are so many’ he’d thought to himself as he stared at the stars.  Suddenly he regretted never looking up at the sky like this before. He regretted that he took so many small things for granted. He regretted everything. 

He wheezed more as he heard footsteps approaching. 

———————————————————————————————————

You turned the corner while tapping at your phone tiredly. Your other hand held onto a few grocery bags, which held the ingredients for your dinner. 

As you turned into your usual shortcut alley, you froze. 

Your eyes met the man on the ground, and the pool of blood next to him.

Your whole body froze before something clicked in you, causing you to drop your grocery bags and sprint over to him. As you kneeled next to him you breathed heavily, waving your hands frantically “oh my god are you okay. Jesus. I’ll call an ambulance oh my god.”

His eyes stared blankly at the sky, not budging to look over at you. “D-Don’t.” He struggled to speak.

You ripped a piece of your shirt, pressing it to his wound. From his lack of reaction and the way he laid limp on the concrete, you could tell he’d lost a lot of blood. “Don’t!? Are you crazy? You’re going to di-“

“I never realized.” 

Your eyes moved from his wound and up to his face for the first time. 

“The night sky is so beautiful.”  His words were slurred, and you could tell that he was becoming delirious. 

After a few moments of staring at his bloodied face, you recognized him. His eyes were a clear blue that were all too familiar. You had seen those eyes. Many times on the news, accompanied by flickering cerulean flames. Instantly you recognized him as one of the members of the LOV.

The reality of the situation in front of you set in as you began to shake. A villain was dying in this alley.

And you had no idea how to navigate this situation. 

You hesitated to speak, as you pressed onto his wound. You winced as you felt the warm liquid soaked through the piece of cloth, and you repositioned yourself next to him.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Dabi.”The name came out so quiet that it was nearly a whisper. You began to worry he would lose consciousness. Studying his eyes you noticed that were dangerously low and his breathing was becoming increasingly more shallow. The stab wound in his side certainly wasn’t doing him any favors either. 

“Dabi?” You spoke uncertainty

He didn’t respond.

“If I don’t help you. You’re going to die.”

A small smile painted his lips as he hummed gently, closing his eyes completely. “I feel so light. I’ve never felt anything like this before. Can you feel it too?” His words turned into rambling before he wheezed again. 

“Dabi keep your eyes open.” You spoke softly. Fear began to collect in your chest as he didn’t.

He was clearly very delirious. 

You weren’t sure what you should do. You knew that he was a villain, but he was no threat here now. You knew that if you called an ambulance, the police wouldn’t be too far behind to take him away. And as you stared at his broken state your heart panged with sadness. 

“Dabi. Look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open at your words, clearly struggling to keep them open. He glanced over to you, his azure eyes staring straight into yours. 

 “Wow.” He breathed raggedly. “You are an angel”

He continued to stare at your face for a few more moments, studying each feature carefully. “Are you taking me to heaven or hell?” You watched as his eyes flicked up to the sky again.

You were taken aback as he spoke. An angel? A blink was the only response you could muster. 

“You belong up there, you know.” His eyes watered a bit, up towards the sky. “Do you think I do, too?”

He coughed roughly, and you continued to apply pressure, your mind racing.

“I’m…. I’m gonna die here, huh?” He squeezed his eyes shut. 

“No, you’re not. I promise you.” You pulled out your phone and dialed a number frantically, shaking as it rang. Hoping that the number was still in order. Praying they would pick up.

When you heard her voice over the phone you sighed in relief, finally relaxing a bit.

“Hey, it’s y/n.  I need a favor. And I need you not to judge me for it.”

———————————————————————————————————

One month later

He woke from his sleep in a cold sweat, gripping at his side. Slim fingers ghosting over his stitches as small pants left his lips. 

Eventually, he gathered the energy to swing his feet over the side of the bed, as he raked his fingers through his hair. 

Every night since then he had the same dream. Over and over. He was dying in that alley, shrouded in misery and darkness. Until eventually, an angel descended from the sky, taking him into her arms and saved him. She was so beautiful. He was certain he’d never seen the woman in his dreams before, but he couldn’t get the face out of his head. Every feature was so clear as if he’d seen it a million times in person. 

He couldn’t remember if you were real or not. 

Shaking it off and he made his way into the bathroom. The soles of his feet pressed against the cold tile, as he looked into the mirror. That day truly haunted him.

Getting his revenge on the men that attacked him was the first step he took when he regained his strength. It was a spectacle. One that placed a newfound fear into the hearts of anyone that dared to think of harming him in the same way. 

Remembering the way it felt as he laid on the concrete, and the feeling that washed over him in that alleyway confused him. The moments replayed it in his mind more times than he could count. He remembered staring into the sky and feeling absolutely at peace. It sent a shiver down his spine.

The entire situation was something he truly wished that he could forget about.

After shaking his head again, he studied himself in the mirror. 

All he could do was think back to that face. The one that graced his dreams, and how he longed to see it again. He longed to thank you. But he couldn’t tell reality from his dreams anymore. 

He remembered being attacked, and the horrifyingly calming feeling of bleeding out on the pavement. He remembered the delirium. And then nothing. A blank slate, before waking in his bed with toga watching over him nearby. A groan left his lips as he remembered her taunting him and saying something about “it’s about time you woke up.”

The entire time he was out, all he could dream of was your face. And your eyes. And your voice. 

But everyone in the league convinced him that there was no girl that fit the description he gave. And that he was alone in that alley until Toga stumbled upon him. 

He thought he was going mad.

Deciding against more self-reflection he left the bathroom and began to get dressed. 

As usual, he planned on spending his night outside of the hideout, hating the claustrophobic feeling it gave him. He went into town, with his hood up, walking the cold street at night. 

It had been about 20 minutes since he’d departed from the hideout, and he made his way to the only part of town he could stand. It was a small section of the city that contained bars, restaurants, and shops. Tons of things to look at, and keep his mind busy. As he walked toward his usual bar, he stopped in his tracks as he heard your voice. It sounded so familiar. 

Moving to hide behind the corner he brought his hand to the cold stone of the side of the building. His eyes widened as he saw you, and his heart began to race. An unexplainable feeling filled his chest. Happiness, relief, fear? He couldn’t tell. 

As he watched you speak and laugh with your friend he held his position and began to shake. He couldn’t begin to explain the feeling, but one thing he knew for sure was that he was elated.

He watched you for about half an hour in complete awe. His memories of you began to come back slowly, the real ones. Not distorted dreams.

Remembering how you tended to his wound. How you said his name. How you saved his life. 

Some things were still foggy, but one thing that was certain was that he owed you his life. 

Tearing his eyes away from you he decided that he needed to get home. As a wanted villain, he didn’t like staying in one place for too long. But he didn’t want to lose sight of you, in fear of never seeing you again. 

Thoughts jumbled in his head for what felt like an eternity before deciding to stay. 

He watched as your friend left you for the night, and you said your goodbyes. 

He watched you as you left the bar.

He watched you as you walked home. 

He almost felt wrong as he followed behind you, aware that you were oblivious to the fact you were being followed. He hated that you took no precautions, and put yourself into danger this late at night. He wanted to protect you. 

After he saw to it that you were safe and sound in your apartment a smile graced his lips and he walked home. 

———————————————————————————————————

One Week Later

When he saw you again, chatting at the bar with your friend he didn’t hesitate. His mind went blank as his legs carried him over to the bar quickly.

“We need to talk.” He interrupted 

You looked up in response to the intrusion and a gasp left your lips as you met his eyes. 

It took you by surprise that he was here, and seemingly recovered. 

He looked different this time. Fully alive and well, and that made you smile. 

You excused yourself from your table and went to the front of the bar with him. 

Neither of you said a word for a while, you figured there was something he wanted to say.

You weren’t sure if you could trust him.

“You saved my life.” He stared down at you with a look you couldn’t decipher. He looked confused. “I thought I was crazy.”

“I’m glad to see that you’re okay.

“Why did you save me?” He furrowed his brows.

You swallowed hard as you remembered the sight of him in the alley, and his continuous ramblings as you stitched him up. You were certain he wouldn’t make it. But you didn’t give up. And here he was. 

“I-I couldn’t let you die.” You spoke honestly.

“I remember you saying my name. You knew who I was. Why would you do something like that for a villain.” 

You gave a half shrug. “You were…” you took a breath “fading in and out.” Your eyes met his.

“In that moment. Things were…different.”

He blinked, waiting for you to finish.

“We were just two people.”

He blinked again.

“In that moment you weren’t the big bad villain they write headlines about. You were a man. And you were dying.”

He felt numb.

“And what about know.” He asked

You blinked and took in a raspy breath.

“You’re still a man. And we’re still just two people. And I’m glad that I was able to save you.”

His heart skipped a beat.

 “Why aren’t you scared of me.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You said with a laugh “I’m just…not? Do you want me to be?”

He stared ahead. “That’s your choice.”

Silence lingered over the two of you for a few moments too long.

“I can’t really remember what happened.”

It felt odd to speak to him so casually. 

Your eyes flicked to the stars above you. “You were pretty fond of the sky.” You looked over at him “you asked if I thought you’d go to heaven.”

He grimaced. 

“I thought of you a lot after that.” You said honestly, which gained his attention. 

“I kept looking at the news. Over and over and over.” A small laugh left your lips. “I kept looking for you.”

His mouth went dry. “I’ve been looking for you too.”

It warmed his heart a bit that you had been looking for him all of this time. It made him feel better about the fact that he had been thinking of you nonstop. At least the feeling was mutual.

“I wanted to….” he shifted uncomfortably “I wanted to thank you.”

You smiled sweetly

“I kept having this dream. Over and over.” He frowned. “Everyone kept telling me I was crazy. And that you weren’t real. But I couldn’t get your face out of my head.”

“You dreamt of me?”

He ignored your question

“I felt like something was missing. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

You couldn’t believe how honest he was being.

His eyes met yours intensely which caused you to shudder. 

“I owe you my life.”

Your eyes widened, and you raised your hands in protest, “Hey hey. No, you don’t.”

His stare didn’t falter. 

“I do. I would’ve died in that alley if it weren’t for you.”

You were flattered honestly, but you were no hero. In your heart, you felt it was just the right thing to do. What kind of person would you be if you let a man die in the streets?

“What is your name.” His voice snapped you away from your thoughts, causing your attention to turn back to him. 

“It’s y/n.”

At that moment he remembered fully and everything clicked into place for him. Every memory of that night flooded in as he remembered you calling someone on the phone, frantically trying to save his life. He remembered as you told him your name, and applied pressure to his wound. He remembered Toga coming to your aid. And he pondered how you knew her in the first place. But above all, he imagined The risk it must have took.

He pulled a box from his pocket and held it out to you. It was a blue velvet jewelry box. His eyes flicked up to yours. 

“This doesn’t even begin to repay you. But I feel like it’s a start.” He pushed the box towards you.

In the past week, he had seen you stare at it in the window of a department store. You groaned to your friends about how expensive it was, and how you would kill to get your hands on one for yourself.

Taking the box into your hands you eyed him curiously. “What is it?”

He nodded at the box “open it.”

You followed directions and slowly lifted the lid. Your heart seemed to stop in your chest as you looked down at the necklace. It was a dainty silver chain, with a beautiful teardrop diamond pendant hanging at the bottom of it. You admired the way it shined in the night lights, your mouth agape. No one had ever gotten you anything like this.

“Y-you got me this?”

He nodded, “I happened to see you staring at it.”

You ignored his mentions of stalking.

“I-I…it’s beautiful. But… I can’t take this. It’s too expensive.”

Your eyes flicked up at him as you remembered the price tag “This was at least $1000.”

“Take it.” He said plainly “I need to repay you somehow.”

You asked him to hold the box as you began to put it on, you caught your reflection in one of the shop windows near you.

He admired you silently. You really were just as beautiful as he’d dreamt. 

He gave you the box back and began to say his goodbyes. You stopped him, grabbing onto his wrist as he turned away. He froze and stared back at you, which caused you to let go quickly. 

“Will I ever see you again?” You asked. You also hadn’t been able to get him out of your head. Since Toga had shown up to the alley and taken him away, you wondered what had happened to him. You really hoped that he would make it. 

And here he was. Standing in front of you.

The corners of his lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “You will.” 

Watching as he disappeared your heart panged. 

Days passed and you never saw him, no matter how hard you searched. There wasn’t even anything on the news.

Days later, when you returned to your apartment, you noticed a box at your front door. You brought it inside and inspected it. Inside was a top that you had admired in a store a few days ago. It was obvious that he had been watching you, which made you feel uneasy. Although you felt as if it didn’t creep you out nearly as much as it should’ve.

Your head immediately snapped up and you rushed to your window, peeking outside. He had to be out there somewhere. 

On one hand, you’d realized how creepy this was. The feeling of being watched, and receiving gifts. It was a textbook creepy stalker. On the other hand, you felt as if you had bonded with Dabi, regardless of his unconventional method of ‘repaying’ you. When someone is in their dying moments, they tend to get very personal. Sharing things that they’d never shared with anyone. You didn’t fear him, though. Even though you realized you probably should. 

This carried on for weeks

Random gifts placed delicately outside of your apartment door. A dress here. A necklace there. Always something.

You had a strange feeling about it, and you knew that you should probably be afraid. 

But as time went on you could tell that these gifts weren’t of creepy infatuation, but rather endless gratitude. They weren’t strange ransom notes covered in blood or a doll made from human hair. Instead, they were expensive. Really expensive.  Thoughtfully picked out gifts, colors of each one complimenting the other. Matching earrings for the necklace he’d given you. Shoes that matched the color of the satin dress you’d received earlier that week. 

You felt guilty that he kept leaving you such nice things. You didn’t feel like he owed his life to you. 

But you could tell he did.

You headed out that night, on a mission. You wanted to put an end to this game of never-ending cat and mouse. And for some inexplicable reason, you just really wanted to check up on him. The plan was already set in motion as you headed to the bar that he’d approached you at the first time. You ordered a drink, sat, and waited hoping that he would show up.

———————————————————————————————————

He felt indebted to you in a way that he had never felt for anyone. 

Knowing that this infatuation was probably unhealthy he knew that he should stop. 

But he couldn’t.

He left you present after present, hoping that he could fill the hole of debt he felt for you. But he couldn’t. 

It would never be enough. 

He headed out to the bar, hoping to drink enough to wash away all of his feelings. The trauma of a near-death experience and his fixation with you were two things that weighed at him like nothing else ever had. 

Taking a seat at the bar he quickly ordered a drink, downing it as soon as it was given to him. 

He groaned as he felt someone slip into the barstool next to him. 

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you greeted him.

He looked at you in disbelief before giving a wry smile. 

“I’ve got quite the stalker, don’t I?” 

His comment caused you to roll your eyes as you settled onto the barstool. 

“I think I could say the same”

He took a sip of his second drink and raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘touché’.

“Where have you been?” your voice came out a little angrier than you had anticipated.

Taking another shot he ignored you, tapping his fingers on the bar steadily. 

“You told me I would see you again and you disappeared.”

You thought back to all of the gifts he’d left for you. And how he knew where you lived, and how he watched you. Your ears began to heat with a mixture of emotions. Anger? Frustration? You couldn’t tell. You couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just come to see you, rather than leaving ominous packages.

“And what’s with you giving me all of this stuff?” 

“I told you.” He said taking yet another shot. “I need to repay you somehow.”

Truly, he was struggling. And it was very apparent. He couldn’t begin to wrap his head around the fact that material things wouldn’t be enough to dig him out of this hole. To get rid of this feeling. To wash away his debt.

He knew that drinking probably wouldn’t help either.

“You’ve already repaid me.” Your voice was soft as you broke the silence.

“And not with all of the gifts.” You lowered your voice. “You repaid me by pulling through. By living.”

He turned to you. His eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“I don’t know why. But I feel close to you. Like I understand you.” You trailed off, as you fondled the necklace that rested on your collar bone, instantly feeling guilty. “But please…. stop giving me gifts.”

He didn’t know what to say. He pondered saying thank you again, but he was sure that’s not what you wanted to hear.

“Okay.” He spoke plainly, staring ahead

Both of you stayed quiet 

His hands gripped the glass cup before he spoke low enough for only you to hear. “That night. Was my darkest moment ever.” He took a breath. “It haunts me.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched his eyes and the despair that floated inside of them.

You didn’t initially peg him as someone that even had a weakness or would be afraid of anything. But it dawned on you just how deeply a near-death experience could affect someone and the way that they live their life. 

You realized just how traumatic it was for him.

He continued to speak, not daring to look at you. “And out of that darkness, and trauma… the worst experience of my life….” He looked up, and into your eyes. “Came you.”

You felt an emotion that you couldn’t quite explain crawl into your chest.

“I don’t know what fuckin endorphins you triggered in my head but I cannot stop thinking about you.”

Watching as he fumbled over his words you bit your lip nervously. You had never had someone express such deep emotions for you. 

“Every time I see you. It’s. I don’t know.” 

You watched him carefully, in awe. While you weren’t sure you felt as intensely, you certainly felt the same way. Then again, you weren’t the one that almost died. 

His alluring mystery definitely added to the fact you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The fact that no one really seemed to know much about him, including the internet. You knew because you’d spent hours showering the net for the slightest bit of information on him, but of course, not much turned up. 

“I think about you all the time too, you know.” You tapped your fingers on the bar. “You worry me to death.” You cringed at your choice of words, but it didn’t seem to sway Dabi. 

“I watch the news all the time. Just looking for a hint of flames anywhere.” You whispered to him, careful that no one overheard you. “I don’t know. Seeing you like that, it just made me afraid it would happen again. That I might find you like that again. It was really scary.”

He looked over at you. 

”And I know we barely know each other but I think it’s pretty clear that we’re bonded already.”

You stopped your rambling and studied his face. You could tell he was tired. He probably wasn’t getting much sleep these days. 

“Can we just. I don’t know. Stick together?” You blurted, placing your palms onto the cold countertop.

He lifted his eyebrows at the suggestion. 

“Well, clearly you follow me around. And I’m pulling my hair out daily, trying to find you, hoping that you’re still okay.”

He continued to stare.

Realizing that you were rambling, you wondered if he’d ever speak up.

Your words were teetering on the line of desperate. Not really knowing if you could convince him. “So can we at least just stay in contact. Please? No more sneaking around, or gifts.” 

Again, he said nothing. 

“I just want to know you, and to know that you’re okay.” You shifted uncomfortably and began to worry that this was all a mistake in the first place. 

He didn’t speak for a while longer, processing everything that you’d said. He couldn’t help but agree with you. He wanted to stay close. He wanted to keep you in his sight. 

“If you want to give me anything, this is what I want.” You spoke cautiously, hoping that he would finally speak.

He blinked before reaching out for your hand and giving it a light squeeze. 

“Okay,” he replied with a small smile, staring into your eyes. “God, you sure do talk a lot.”

You squeezed back and laughed a bit.

“You have to swear.” You spoke seriously making sure that you didn’t waver

He’d never say it out loud, but there was truly nothing in the world that he wanted more than to stay close to you.

“I swear.” he squeezed your hand again before staring into your eyes seriously. “You have my word.” 

[saiilorstars]

Metamorphosis

Ch. 1: A New Beginning

Current Masterlist // Previous Story //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Female OC

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​

[If you would like to be added to this specific OC’s taglist, let me know!]

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Author's Note: Hello! Welcome to my 3rd OC/Doctor pairing story. This is the second story of the 'Home Saga' involving my Time Lady OC Renata and the (now) 11th Doctor. I recommend that you go back to the first story "The Beginning of Everything" listed on my porfile for a better understanding of Renata's history and her story with the Doctor. Now this story will be a rewrite of Season 5 and some canon Doctor Who comic stories as well as my own original chapters. This story will also feature a canon Latinx Doctor Who comic companion, Gabby Gonzalez. She is NOT my creation.

Couple of fun things: Renata's and the Doctor's main theme song is "Home" by Gabrielle Aplin. Renata's personal theme song is Butterfly by Luna Mae. (There's a specific playlist for them on my profile)

Chapter summary: Renata and the newly regenerated Doctor have crash landed into a little girl’s backyard where they dive headfirst into another adventure.

Renata had never seen a more disastrous regeneration unfold. Of course only the Doctor could make that happen. She shouldn't even be surprised. It was only a matter of time until one of his regenerations caused the TARDIS to nearly explode. She furiously ran around the console, trying to calm the box without getting her hands burned in the process. Parts of the console room were still in flames and where was the culprit!?

"DOCTOR!" Renata's yell could almost go above the thuds and sparks from the lit console.

"Busy!" the newly regenerated Doctor called back only to have Renata snap.

"No you're not! You're…" she trailed off after poking her head around the console to see the Doctor pulling himself back inside the box.

"You left me dangling out there!" He exclaimed, flapping a hand at the open doors. The TARDIS had lurched to the side, throwing him out like a ragdoll.

Renata's dark eyes widened indignantly. She huffed and stepped away — or stumbled away because of the bouncy ride — from the console. "I did not! I'm trying to fix your mess! You can't even regenerate properly!"

Now it was the Doctor's turn to be offended. "What!? Excuse me for not dying the right way!"

Renata stalked over to him, intending on pulling him away from the doors that he irresponsibly left open as well. "The TARDIS needs to land so it can properly repair itself but I can't do that because—oh no!" She had gasped at something past him out the door. The Doctor whirled around to see them about to hit Big Ben. He used his sonic screwdriver to pull them to the side, a rather harsh turn that sent them both flying.

Only this time it sent the Doctor away from the doors and Renata out the doors.

"Renata!" the Doctor panicked. Oh, if he killed her, she would definitely kill him.

Like him, Renata had managed to hold onto the edge of the entrance. Now she dangled and was terrified for her lives. "GET ME UP! I HATE HEIGHTS!" she cried.

The Doctor scrambled to the doorway and looked down at her. He felt absolutely terrible because this wasn't the first time she was in this situation. She had her eyes screwed shut and her hands gripping the TARDIS as much as she could.

"You need to stop doing this to me!" she shouted when she felt his hands grab her arms. Last time she dangled from a terribly high height was on the first day she met Donna Noble in the Adipose building, and just like then she screamed for help now.

"Up you go!" the Doctor pulled her up and into the TARDIS. She was far too terrified and wrapped her arms around his neck as if he would stop her from falling again. Despite her clinging to him, the Doctor managed to shut the doors behind them.

The TARDIS continued to spin and lurch, throwing the two against the door. Renata's back hit the door with a thud and because she still held onto the Doctor, she brought him with her. Now she was locked between him and the door.

Despite their situation, the Doctor still found time to smile at her. "Hello," he greeted her for the first time since regenerating.

She was right, he hadn't regenerated properly. All the physical injuries he sustained in his previous incarnation carried over and it meant that the regeneration process had to work twice as hard to heal everything. The poor TARDIS never stood a chance and Renata had to work hard to keep them alive. There'd been no time to say hello and make sure she was alright. He would take these few seconds to do at least one of those two things.

Renata froze under that new gaze of his; she swallowed out of nervousness. Though he had a younger face, his emerald green eyes still held all the love and intensity he confessed before regenerating. It was still enough to calm her in the midst of a scary situation. But the TARDIS shook them again, reminding her pilots that she needed help or else they were all goners. The pair headed — a bit zig-zag from all the lurches — towards the console. They had to stop it before somebody got hurt. As it was, there was somebody below them who was asking for help from a higher power...the only higher power a seven year old could think of.

Little Amelia Pond didn't know what else to do with the ugly crack on her bedroom wall. It didn't look right and it didn't sound right either. Cracks shouldn't be making sounds. That's why she was scared of it. If it was a normal crack like her aunt Sharon told her it was, then she wouldn't hear noises from it.

Santa Claus had to help. She was just so sorry that she was waking him up during Easter. But just as she was once again asking for his help, she heard a crash in her backyard yard. Her ginger hair whipped to the side when she made the quick turn. She dashed to her window and looked below to see a dark blue box on the ground. She didn't understand power a lot, but she thought if Santa sent them then it must mean it was good enough to help her with the crack. Now she just had to be brave enough to go see it up close.

She grabbed her red jacket and the first shoes she saw - a pair of wellies - then ran out of her room. She ran as fast as she could down the stairs, thinking if she delayed then the box would disappear and she would be back to step one with the crack. She had just made it into the yard when the doors of the box flung open. The grappling hook that was thrown out and latched onto her lawn roller stopped her for a moment. What kind of box did that? Then she saw hands grabbing onto the edge of the box. A man's head popped out first, revealing incredibly wet hair.

"Can I have an apple?" he asked as soon as he met the girl's gaze. That was the first thing that his mind had thought of after such a ride. It was odd what regeneration did. "All I can think about - apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving. That's new - never had cravings before!"

Amelia swore she heard somebody screaming from inside the box. She was sure when the man flinched and looked below to respond to whatever had spoken inside the box.

"Sorry, love," he climbed out of the box then reached for something inside — somebody inside.

Amelia blinked when he pulled out a dark-haired woman from the box. Like him, she was soaking wet. "Are you okay?" the question blurted from Amelia's mouth.

"No! I am not!" Renata answered without even looking at the girl. She didn't even register that the Doctor hadn't been the one to ask the question. She wouldn't straddle the TARDIS like the Doctor was, she wanted to step on actual ground. She wanted to confirm that she was no longer dangling in the air.

"It is freezing out here! Where are we!?" Renata hugged herself wet body and began to look around. With such a landing, she didn't have the opportunity to see where the TARDIS had deposited them in. All she saw was water from the swimming pool.

They were in a garden, probably a backyard, that could honestly use some work. The grass was unkempt which meant somebody had neglected to give it a proper mowing. There were abandoned tools to one side — she winced when she realized that they had inadvertently smashed the shed — and then a park bench that could use some cleaning. Finally, she saw a swing set…

Oh. Renata glanced at the girl, eyes wide when she finally realized there was a child present. A child had asked her if she was alright and she'd been so rude. "So sorry," she quickly apologized. "Uh...bit off my rocker thanks to…" she threw a sharp look at the Doctor who couldn't seem bothered. His grin was a sign alright.

Amelia looked between them and wondered how Santa thought they were capable of helping her. Then again, if they were this strange then perhaps they were the right ones to handle a strange crack with noise. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"We just had a fall," the Doctor said, patting the TARDIS under him. "All the way down there, right to the library. Hell of a climb back up."

"Yes, my library is ruined now," Renata came back to the box and peered inside, though as soon as she did she pulled away. It was an outright mess in there. "And Gabriella's going to be furious that her art room is basically nonexistent."

The Doctor winced. Up until now, their companion Gabriella Gonzalez hadn't ever been properly angry with him, so he was really hoping that he could keep that streak when they went back to pick her up.

Amelia hadn't understood what they were saying, but she could still make sense of what she saw. "You're soaking wet."

"Yes, we are," Renata glared at the Doctor again. She hugged herself and cursed the dress she wore.

"Yeah, you are," the Doctor repeated but he wasn't so upset like she was. He was staring at her with a growing smirk.

Renata blinked when she finally caught on to the fact he was checking her out. Her pretty flower-patterned dress was hugging her body in just the right way. He was loving the fact he could see her curves, her new curves that she would otherwise probably never show.

Her face went mad red, probably almost the shade of Amelia's hair. She turned away in an attempt to focus on Amelia, but there was a tingling feeling running up her backside. You are not going to do that right here, she scolded herself. But she may have sneaked a glance at the Doctor. He was still staring at her appreciatively.

Renata bit her lower lip and forced herself to pay attention to Amelia for real this time. "I am so sorry for the mess we've made here. I, uh, can tell that you've worked hard to keep this...garden clean…"

Amelia smiled in amusement when Renata had to practically force herself to finish that sentence after checking out the garden again. "Nobody takes care of the garden. But how come you're wet?"

"We were, uh, in the swimming pool," Renata walked back to the TARDIS, discreetly pinching the Doctor's arm. When the man yelped she smiled sweetly at him. He needed a good snap back to reality.

"You said you were in the library," Amelia reminded after she herself thought over the last statements the pair had made.

"That's because my library is now ruined as well because the swimming pool is inside it," Renata folded her arms again.

"Are you police?"

That question was enough to reel the pair in. They stared at the little girl who shifted on her feet, anxiously waiting for their answer.

"Why? Did you call the police?" the Doctor asked her.

"Not exactly, but I did want help. Did you come about the crack in my wall?"

"A crack?" Renata repeated, giving the girl a strange look for her question when suddenly the Doctor yelped in pain, falling to the ground.

"Agh!" the Doctor pulled himself up but was only able to kneel in the meantime.

Renata was at his side in a second, trying to ease his lingering pain. "You haven't regenerated properly thanks to the little old flight we had."

"Are you all right, mister?" Amelia asked, staying right where she was. Usually adults didn't want kids around when one of them was sick. Plus, the dark haired woman seemed to be on it.

"No, I'm fine, it's OK. This is all perfectly norm…" the Doctor trailed off and had the urge to open his mouth. When he did, regeneration energy drifted out.

Renata sighed. "Yup, definitely wrong. You'll need to rest."

"Did you?" the Doctor asked. By his calculations, it'd been about two days since she regenerated and he didn't see her taking a rest. She rolled her eyes at his weak attempt to argue.

"Who are you?" Amelia couldn't help herself from asking. They were so strange, especially the man.

"By the time we finish explaining, you'd be an adult," Renata offered the girl a soft smile.

"And to be fair, I'm still cooking," the Doctor was proud to announce. That was the one good thing he could remember from each regeneration: the thought of who this incarnation would turn out to be. What would he like? What wouldn't he like? What would his personality be like?

"Are you afraid?" Renata asked the child.

"No, it just looks a bit weird…" Amelia's gaze lingered on the Doctor as if he would release more energy.

"Well, that's good to hear, but I was talking about the crack you mentioned."

The answer was evident before Amelia even answered. She looked over her shoulder up to her bedroom. "Yes."

The Doctor jumped from the ground, missing Renata worriedly trying to stop him from doing anything else. "Well, then, no time to lose. I'm the Doctor, this is Renata. Do everything we tell you, don't ask stupid questions and don't wander off."

"Doctor…" Renata tried stopping him again but she was too late. He'd walked straight into a tree. She gasped at the terrible smack she heard. That's the last thing he needed!

The Doctor had fallen to the ground on his back, a terrible headache soon to come. When he opened his eyes, he saw Renata already with him while Amelia stood behind his head. "Early days. Steering's a bit off," he excused himself but winced with Renata's scoff.

"Think it's more than just early days," she mumbled as she helped him stand up. Though before she completely let him go, she grabbed his head and pulled him closer to inspect any scratches or cuts on his face. She ignored - or rather did her best to ignore - the Doctor's following eyes on her.

"What's your verdict, my nurse?" he asked her quietly.

She blushed and let him go. "You're fine. But do me a favor and try not to crash into anything else. I will need you when I go back for Gabriella. Don't want to explain to her how you died once more by running into a door."

The Doctor grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

~0~

Amelia had brought the pair into her house, an action that Renata wasn't sure how to feel about. Did nobody teach this child never let strangers into her house? Amelia came into the kitchen with two towels for them to dry up. Renata gratefully took hers while the Doctor practically snatched his distractedly. He was busy studying the solitary kitchen.

"If you're a doctor, why does your box say "Police"?" Amelia asked him before glancing at Renata. "Are you a policewoman?"

"More like his caretaker," Renata dried her hair and flashed a smirk at the frowning Doctor.

"Lies," he promptly said. "Where's my apple?"

Amelia went off to the fridge and hid her smile when Renata scolded him for not saying 'please'. She came back with an apple in hand but once the Doctor took only one bite, he spit out in disgust.

"That's disgusting. What is that?" he wiped the lingering remains off apple from his lips.

Renata was frowning at him for that bit. "You've been asking nonstop for an apple - what do you think she gave you?"

The Doctor heard her, he did, but he also heard his taste buds and they did not approve. "Apples are rubbish. I hate apples."

Amelia could not understand how easily he could change his mind. "You said you loved them."

"No, no, I love yogurt! Yogurt's my favorite. Give me yogurt!" the Doctor rubbed his hands together at the thought of creamy yogurt.

Beside him, Renata watched Amelia run back to the fridge to get the yogurt. Just like before, Amelia returned with what the Doctor asked.

"Thank you," Renata was about to take the container so Amelia could get a cup but neither ever got the chance. The Doctor snatched the container from Amelia's hand and ripped the container off to pour a massive amount into his mouth.

Renata gaped that it almost looked like her mouth would hit the floor. "Doctor!"

The Doctor spit the yogurt out as well. "Ugh! I hate yogurt, it's just stuff with bits in!"

"You said it was your favorite!" Amelia frowned. Some of the yogurt was on her wellies!

"Doctor, you are being very rude right now!" Renata was so close to smacking him. This was too much, even for him!

"What? New mouth, new rules!" He sloppily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Renata shuddered.

Amelia chuckled. Renata looked incredibly funny right now.

"It's like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything tastes wro—agh!" the Doctor insisted but Renata grabbed him by the tie of his shirt and pulled him up to her.

"Stop making up stupid excuses and—" But the Doctor had another fit, ending whatever threat she'd been about to make. Renata let him go with a gasp. "Are you okay!?"

"What's wrong with him?" Amelia watched Renata lean the Doctor against the cabinets behind them. One moment he was arguing and the next he was sick? That didn't make sense.

"Oh, he, uh, just has—" Renata meant to construct a good reason that wouldn't scare Amelia off, but the Doctor had a very different idea in mind.

"Wrong with me? It's not my fault!" the Doctor exclaimed as he got off the wall. "Why can't you give me decent food? You're Scottish - fry something!"

"Doctor!" Renata scolded him while Amelia once again went to the fridge. "You don't have to, sweetheart!" she quickly told the girl but she was already pulling out a pan.

Amelia was a quick cook and in five minutes she presented the Doctor with two strips of bacon.

"Ah! Bacon!" the Doctor, to his credit, did look excited about this one.

However Renata wasn't very fond of the scent she got from it. I guess this incarnation won't like bacon, she concluded.

The Doctor agreed. He took one bite from a strip and spit it right out. "That's bacon. Are you trying to poison me?" he shot an accusing look at Amelia.

This time the girl took it a challenge. There had to be something this man would like and she would find out.

Meanwhile, Renata was close to steaming. "You are being incredibly rude!" she hissed at the Doctor as Amelia brought baked beans to them. "She's a child making food for you!"

"Well let's see if this is it!" the Doctor said. "Plus, you need to eat as well. When's the last time you ate since you regenerated?"

Renata rolled her eyes. Truth be told she didn't remember when she last ate. Things had escalated pretty fast after returning to Earth and finding the Master.

"Ah, you see, beans!" the Doctor happily exclaimed when Amelia came around with a plate. He took a spoonful of it and immediately decided she'd gotten it wrong again. He spit it back out on the plate and marched to the sink to throw it all away. "Beans are evil. Bad, bad beans!"

Amelia made a face and glanced at Renata. "What does he like?"

"At this point...not living!" Because with the glare she had on the Doctor, he might have just met his end.

Amelia sucked in a sharp breath and marched towards the cabinet. Her next attempt was simple. Maybe he was a simple man who liked simple food.

"Bread and butter. Now you're talking!" the Doctor rubbed his hands together as he prepared to eat.

This time, he thought it was so bad that the contents shouldn't even stay inside the house. He stormed towards the backdoor and threw the plate out. "And stay out!" he yelled as if it would really come back.

Amelia was frowning by this point.

"You are about to die again," Renata warned him when he returned. "She's done making food for you!"

"I just need something!" the Doctor argued as he went for the fridge.

Amelia followed him, offering other things she had in the fridge. "We've got some carrots?"

The Doctor scoffed. "Carrots? Are you insane? No, wait, hang on!" He flung open the freezer and searched through the contents. "I know what I need. I need... I need... I need…" He concluded that he needed two items that, if it wasn't for him, would never see each other. "Fish fingers and custard."

Both Renata and Amelia crinkled their noses with disgust. The Doctor happily went ahead with his odd creation.

"This time I get to make dinner for you," he proudly said to Renata when they sat down.

Renata tried her best not to look so disgusted at the bright yellow liquid inside the bowl. "Um...thanks?" Part of her laughed because he was actually trying to make dinner for her, but he'd chosen such a wrong combination. "You're so proud, aren't you?"

The Doctor dipped his fish finger into the bowl, eyes practically dazzling as he saw the gooey custard spill back into the bowl. He took a big bite and hummed with approval. "Good!"

Amelia chuckled from her spot. She'd chosen ice cream as her midnight meal.

"Oh, you are leaving quite an impression," Renata propped an elbow on the table to rest her cheek against her hand. The Doctor smiled proudly. He thought he was making a good one.

"Have some," he picked up a fish finger for her.

"Look Doctor, I appreciate your intention but...that does not look appetizing," Renata chuckled at it.

"But it's good!"

"Fish fingers and custard? I don't think so," Renata playfully rolled her eyes. The Doctor dipped the fish finger into the custard bowl as she went on. "I think I'll just grab an apple or something but you will not have me trying—" the Doctor had popped a fish finger into her mouth. Her eyes widened in alarm, quickly flashing anger at him. "Doc…"

"Ah! Chew!" the Doctor pointed at her with a wagging finger. "You always say you chew your food and swallow before talking at the table."

"That's what aunt Sharon says," Amelia said.

"See, Renata is very fond of routines and rules so I hope she wouldn't break them because it's her," the Doctor set a very smug smile on the Time Lady.

She returned the gesture with a sarcastic smile, but she started to chew to get rid of the foul combination. And then suddenly...she cocked her head and began chewing slower. When it came time to swallow, it wasn't forced at all.

"Well?" the Doctor asked, even though he had already assumed her opinion changed on the meal.

"Uuh...that was...that was actually kind of good," Renata said slowly as she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact. "That can't be right. It shouldn't work!"

"The oddest things sometimes work," the Doctor reached over with a thumb to clear off a lingering spot of custard on her lips. "Sound familiar?"

Renata blushed. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"

"I like to think I'm a genius," the Doctor said as he returned to his bowl.

"You are so modest," Renata sighed and reached for another fish finger, completely ignoring the Doctor's smug smile widening. She wouldn't hear the end of this one, she knew! She checked on the little girl who, up until now, hadn't shown any trauma from everything they'd put her through. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asked when she realized they hadn't even asked her yet. They were there, sitting at her table, eating her food, and they didn't even bother asking her what her name was!

"Amelia Pond," the girl said.

"Ah, that's a brilliant name. Amelia Pond, like a name in a fairy tale," the Doctor said, making the girl smile a bit wider. Everyone always seemed to pick on her for her odd name, but what could she do about it?

"Are we in Scotland, Amelia?" Renata asked. She didn't even know where they were because of the TARDIS' crashing.

"No. We had to move to England. It's rubbish," Amelia crinkled her nose as if she'd only just moved in yesterday.

"So what about your mum and dad, then? Are they upstairs?" the Doctor leaned a bit in his chair to catch sight of the stairs. Up until now, no one had come down to check on them. "Thought we'd have woken them by now."

"Oh, what would make you think that?" Renata sarcastically asked him. "You screaming at a plate of beans? Or how about the big old box crashing in the garden?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, we'll fix that for them."

"The least we could do," Renata mumbled.

"I don't actually have a mum and dad. Just an aunt," Amelia answered when she thought they were done bickering again.

"We don't even have an aunt," the Doctor said, giving her a wink.

"You're lucky!"

Renata gave an odd look at the girl. "Why would you say something like that? Is your aunt not nice?"

Amelia didn't answer right away, but Renata could tell the girl was upset by something. "She's nice, but...she's not here, is she?"

Renata hummed as she looked around. "Right. Of course she wouldn't be here. She really leaves you alone?"

"I'm not scared," Amelia raised her head up high, making the pair of Time Lords smile.

"Ooh, we know," the Doctor said. "You're not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man and woman fall out of box, man and woman eat fish custard, and look at you, just sitting there. So you know what I think?"

"What?"

"Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall."

Renata agreed with a silent nod. And if she was guessing, Amelia must have told her aunt about this crack but the aunt hadn't listened. Amelia must be terrified and yet the aunt still left her alone!?

~ 0 ~

Amelia brought the Doctor up to her bedroom when they were done with dinner. Renata had insisted on washing everything before she could join them. How could they have dinner in someone else's home and not clean up after themselves? So, the Doctor began examining the crack on the wall by himself. At first glance, it did look like any ordinary crack. He might have even turned away if he'd only looked at it for a few seconds.

"You've had some cowboys in here. Not actual cowboys, though that can happen," he murmured as he worked along the crack.

"How are we doing?" Renata walked in a few minutes later and dropped an apple into Amelia's hand. "No seven year old should have ice cream at midnight. Have one."

Amelia scrunched her face at the apple she now held, though she did smile when she saw a carving of a butterfly on it. "How'd you do that?"

Renata smiled secretively as she bent down in front of the girl. "You want to know a secret? I'm like the Mother of butterflies." She turned her palm around and let golden energy rise from her skin, gently swirling until they formed miniature butterflies."

Amelia's green eyes expanded to the point of bulging from her head. She was enchanted with the butterflies flying around her. "That's so cool!"

Renata chuckled. "You think so? You want to know another secret?" Amelia nodded excitedly. Renata leaned a little closer and whispered, "I just learned how to do that downstairs."

The Doctor looked from the crack to see the sight. He smiled softly at the two. Renata was just so good with children, with people in general, that it seemed like no matter what incarnation she was in, this was a part of her core personality.

Renata straightened up on her feet and turned to the Doctor, catching him in his act of staring. She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning why he was wasting time, but he just continued to smile at her. Before she could blush again - she was beginning to think that this body would be doing that a lot easier now - Renata cleared her throat and walked up to the wall. "So, have we got anything on this menacing crack?"

"Uh, sort of…" the Doctor gave the crack all of his attention now. "This wall is solid and the crack doesn't go all the way through it. So here's a thing - where's the drought coming from?"

"Let's find out," Renata reached for her sonic screwdriver in her dress' pocket and aimed it at the wall. The Doctor took the chance to scoot closer to her, letting his chin rest on her shoulder while she took in the readings. Renata concentrated really hard on the sonic and not the sensation she was feeling from his closeness. "Interesting…"

"What?" Amelia wanted to get closer but she still was kind of afraid of the crack.

"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey!" the Doctor thought that was the perfect explanation. He moved away from Renata and stopped at the start of the crack. "You know what the crack is? It's a crack, clearly." He began to run his fingers along the crack, bringing him back to where Renata stood. "I'll tell you something funny. If you knocked this wall down, the crack would stay put, 'cos the crack isn't in the wall."

"Where is it, then?" Amelia made a face. Half of his words weren't making sense, but she was pretty sure that the thing on her wall looked like a crack.

"It's everywhere," Renata said quietly, her face growing more grim by the second. "In everything. It's a split in the skin of the world. And that is not right. Two parts of space and time that should never have touched, pressed together...right here in the wall of your bedroom. How could that happen?" she glanced at the Doctor for some ideas, not that she didn't have her own.

Her first assumption was that this was a direct consequence of the Master and the Time Lords breaking out of the Time Lock. There was too much tampering with that time period, from both sides, that perhaps Time itself finally had enough.

"Sometimes, can you hear…" the Doctor actually meant to think this but since he said out loud, Amelia quickly jumped in with the answer.

"A voice!? Yes!"

Both aliens paused to look back at the anxious girl. It was clear that she'd been waiting for somebody to believe her.

The Doctor reached for a glass of water on the nightstand. He chucked the water to the side and pressed its rim against the wall. Soon as he put his ear against the end of the glass, he heard an echoing voice on the other side.

'Prisoner Zero has escaped'

The Doctor stepped away, nose crinkling as he repeated what he heard. "Prisoner Zero?"

Amelia once again jumped in. "Prisoner Zero has escaped. That's what I heard!" She wasn't the only one hearing the voices now! If they believed it then it meant things would finally get fixed. "What does it mean?"

"Be subtle," Renata whispered to the Doctor. This was still a child they were dealing with and they shouldn't terrify her.

Of course that's what Renata thought, because despite her warning the Doctor still went ahead and answered with the blunt truth. "It means that, on the other side of this wall, there's a prison and they've lost a prisoner." Renata rubbed her forehead wearily. So that incarnation also had a loud mouth. Great. "You might need a better wall," the Doctor concluded as he went for the desk nearby. He pulled it away so that the wall was free of any furniture. "The only way to close the breach is to open it all the way. The forces will invert and it'll snap itself shut. Or…" Renata once again made an attempt to remind him Amelia was still a child. This time it seemed like he got it. "You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?"

"Yes," Amelia nodded with a roll of her eyes. That was so annoying.

"Everything's going to be fine."

Amelia's face fell flat.

Renata shut her eyes for a moment, wondering which one of his lines was worse.

"Renée?" the Doctor called to her, in the process letting it be known that he would still be using that nickname for her as well. He was holding his hand out for her.

"Yeah, alright," the Time Lady moved up beside him and took his hand. Funny, it seemed to slip in so easily with his. Renata then glanced back to where Amelia stood and did the same like the Doctor. "Amelia?"

The girl grinned when Renata offered her other hand to her. She moved around the bed and took Renata's hand.

"Alright then, let's get this big, bad wall shut!" the Doctor held his sonic to the crack.

Amelia turned her head at the sonic when it started making that whirring noise. Renata's sonic hadn't made that noise, she wondered why the Doctor's did. Amelia soon forgot about that detail when a bright light started shining through the crack. It was opening! While Amelia shielded her eyes, Renata squinted hers to see prison cells on the other side. Her hand squeezed Amelia's when she realized that the child had been sleeping next to a prison, an alien prison.

'Prisoner Zero has escaped,' a voice announced on a loop. 'Prisoner Zero has escaped.'

The Doctor took a step towards the crack, hoping to end things without much trouble. "Hello?" At the second call, a giant blue eye surprised him and the others.

"What's that?" Amelia frowned at the creature. It kept swiveling its eyeball at them.

Before either Time Lord answered, a ball of light shot out from the crack and struck the Doctor. He landed against the bed just as the crack sealed up.

"Doctor, are you alright!?" Renata let go of Amelia's hand - though she ushered the girl away from the crack - and rushed to the Doctor.

He was getting back on his feet with a bit of struggle. The regeneration was still going. "There. You see, told you it would close. Good as new."

Amelia wasn't sure if she was supposed to be relieved or scared. But at least the crack was gone. "What was that thing? Was that Prisoner Zero?"

"No. I think that was Prisoner Zero's guard. Whatever it was, it sent me a message." The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper from his pant's pocket. "Psychic paper, takes a lovely little message. 'Prisoner Zero has escaped.' But why tell us?"

Renata dreaded the answer as she glanced back at the wall. "Because maybe this is where he escaped through…" If the crack truly was what they thought it was, then this was a weak point in Time. Anything could get through if it tried.

"But he couldn't have. We'd know!" the Doctor argued initially. They would have noticed something like that.

"No, we wouldn't," Renata said calmly to him. "It's like you said. I just regenerated 2 days ago and I haven't slept or ate since before and you just regenerated an hour ago. We're not functioning the right way."

The Doctor would concede with that point, several points. "Brand-new me, nothing works yet," he mumbled with annoyance as he headed out of the room. "Still, I feel like there's something I'm missing…" he stopped by the staircase banister and thought, "...in the corner...of my eye." He and Renata jumped at the sound of the cloister bell ringing.

"Oh, great," Renata sighed while the Doctor broke into a race for the TARDIS. She and Amelia hurried after him into the backyard.

"We've got to get back in there!" The Doctor exclaimed as he came up to the TARDIS. "The engines are phasing, it's going to burn!"

Amelia couldn't quite see that happening since it was just a box. "But... it's just a box! How can a box have engines?"

The Doctor struggled to free the grappling hook while Renata hurried to gather the rope around them. "That's because it's not a box. It's a time machine, sweetheart," Renata explained as she returned to the Doctor's side with the role in her arms.

Amelia blinked at her then checked the box again. "What, a real one? You've got a real time machine?"

"It's his, not mine," Renata gave a nod at the Doctor. "Mine wouldn't have landed like this."

"Oh!" the Doctor stopped working altogether to frown at Renata. "It's not like I planned this! I didn't see you doing a better job!"

"What!?" Renata dropped the rope with an indignant cry. "Your spasm of regeneration didn't exactly give me the time! Honestly, I have never seen a messier regeneration!"

Amelia's head once again turned from Renata to the Doctor as each of them took their turn responding to the other's comment. She smiled, though, when Renata sprouted golden butterfly wings. It definitely halted the argument.

"So...that's a thing now?" the Doctor was just as surprised as Amelia. He eyed the admittedly beautiful golden butterfly wings that were made out of pure Vortex and Osiran power. To Amelia, it looked more like fairy dust (Renata just needed to be blonde to be like Tinkerbell!). Bright, golden sparkle dust!

Renata was mortified to see them back. She looked over her shoulder with a loud groan. "Go away!" She shouted at them as if they actually had ears.

The Doctor chuckled at her. "C'mon my beautiful butterfly," he tugged her towards him by the hand. "We really have to get the TARDIS stabilized. I think a 5 minute hop into the future should do it."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Renata forgot about the silky argument and gathered up the rope she let fall.

Amelia watched the two work together like they hadn't been arguing a minute ago. It was rather funny. They were funny. Nothing around her was ever funny. She always spent most of her time alone. Who could she be funny with? Definitely not aunt Sharon. "Can I come?" she asked the two after they'd looped the rope through the door handle.

"Not safe in here, not yet," the Doctor told her, making her hopeful smile falter.

Renata walked over to the girl with a soft smile. "Listen, it'll just be 5 minutes and then we'll be back, right Doctor?"

"Absolutely!" he gave a thumbs up in the air.

"People always say that," Amelia frowned.

The Doctor walked over as well and looked her in the eyes. "Am I people? Do I even look like people? Trust me, I'm the Doctor. And, if you want extra assurance, that's why I have Renata."

Amelia's hope returned. "Really?"

"Have you ever seen a star in outer space?" Renata asked her and couldn't help chuckle at Amelia's widened eyes. She really did have big eyes. "Start picking a constellation. We'll work out permission with your aunt after." She had quite a few words to exchange with that Aunt of hers who just left her on her own.

The Doctor led Renata back to the TARDIS. They climbed over the edge again and, with one last look at Amelia, they jumped inside.

"Geronimo!" Amelia heard the Doctor's scream before the TARDIS doors closed. A few seconds later, the box disappeared into thin air.

Amelia continued to grin and hope for their return as she ran back home to collect her things. She had no idea what she would need to see a star in outer space but she would be very prepared!

~0~

The TARDIS returned to the same spot as before, but its inhabitants wouldn't notice straightaway something truly important. Renata came out of the TARDIS first - shoved out by the Doctor - coughing from the smoke billowing out of the box.

"We've got to let her repair!" Renata said in the midst of her coughing. The Doctor could only nod for a moment as he got over his coughing. "It's day time…" Renata realized as she looked up at the clear, blue sky. "Oh my God...it's day time! We told her 5 minutes — Amelia!" She raced into the house with the Doctor right behind her.

They hollered for Amelia to get out of the house. For this one moment, Renata would forget her rules about breaking in for the sake of Amelia's well being. They went directly to the one door they couldn't catch before but this time the sonic wasn't working.

"Is she at school!?" Renata tried to guess with the most logical idea. If it were that then at least she would be safe.

The Doctor struggled with the door but stopped when he heard a loud smack behind. He spun around and barely got a second to see Renata on the floor before he too was whacked across the head.

The next time they came to, the pair found themselves handcuffed to a radiator. A female police officer in a short skirt stood off to the side, speaking into her radio.

"White male and female, mid-20s, breaking and entering. Send me some back-up, I've got them restrained." The woman shot the pair a glare. "Oi, you! Sit still."

"Cricket bat. I'm getting cricket bat!" the Doctor felt the throb where the bat had hit him, but he was more angry at the fact Renata had also gotten the hit.

"Call me crazy but I think…" Renata paused to scrunch her face at the lingering pain she felt on the back of her head, "I think that was some uncalled police brutality." She tried moving her hand and found she was handcuffed to the same handcuff the Doctor was. "Oh, really?"

The Doctor nodded over at the policewoman. "I don't carry handcuffs, love!"

"You were breaking and entering," the policewoman said in a manner that would leave clear she used the appropriate amount of force against them.

Renata gasped with offence. "I have never broken into a place! Usually he—" she pointed at the Doctor with her free hand, "—is the one that drags me into it! My record with the authorities is clean!"

The Doctor stared at her with a flat expression. "Thanks, dear. Really appreciate your defense right now." His voice suddenly turned into a shout that startled the police woman but not Renata. "I literally died 2 hours ago and some woman just hit me with a cricket bat! You're not even going to mention that fact!?"

"What do you want me to do about it!? Kiss it and make it better!?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to snap when he suddenly tilted his head with consideration of the proposal. "Actually yes, that would make it so much better." Renata rolled her eyes but she turned her head away to hide her smile.

The police woman banged a hand against the staircase banister to get their attention back. "Do you want to shut up now? I've got back-up on the way! You both broke in!"

"But what are you doing here? Where's Amelia?" the Doctor asked, or rather demanded. He doubted this was the aunt Sharon that Amelia mentioned.

The police woman tilted her head at them. "Amelia Pond?"

"Adorable little Scottish girl," Renata said. "Where is she? We promised her five minutes but the engines were phasing." She craned her head up at the window where the sun was shining was through. "I suppose we must have gone a bit far. Perhaps a day? Has something happened to her?"

The officer folded her arms, seeming like she was enjoying their momentary panic. "Amelia Pond hasn't lived here in a long time."

"How long?" the Doctor dared to ask. Renata had assumed they'd been late by a day but if turned out to be more, he wasn't sure Renata could take it.

"Six months."

Renata gasped. "No, no, no! We can't be six months late! We said five minutes. We promised!"

The police woman turned away with zero interest in their guilt.

"What happened to her? What happened to Amelia Pond?" the Doctor now demanded from her.

"Sarge, it's me again," the police woman spoke in a hurried, hushed tone into her radio "Hurry it up, this guy knows something about Amelia Pond."

"What!?" Renata fully panicked now. Why would the police woman say something like that? Had something happened to Amelia!? What if she got hurt while waiting for them to come back!? Had she wandered off into the streets on her own to search for them!?

"Renée? Calm down," the Doctor struggled to move his cuffed hand closer to hers. He could see her beginning to panic and he wanted nothing more than to ease her. His free hand was the one to finally touch her face. "This face will be easier to read." He noted her widened eyes and the way her light skin paled up a bit.

"We told her 5 minutes and now something might have happened to her," Renata whispered. She directed her eyes to the police woman. "Please, you have to tell us what happened to Amelia? Is she missing?"

The police woman seemed to shift under those soft eyes of Renata. The Time Lady was so concerned, her voice cracking as if tears would roll down her face anytime soon. "Well…"

"Look, we need to speak to whoever lives in this house now," the Doctor cut in sharply. "And I'd like some information on Amelia Pond as well."

"I live here," the police woman snapped.

"But you're the police!"

"Yes, and this is where I live. You got a problem with that?!"

"I've got a problem with the fact you're keeping your mouth shut about Amelia!" snapped Renata. "So here's a little something for you, dear, how many rooms you got in this house?"

The police woman rolled her eyes. They were just trying to have her, weren't they?

"How many rooms?" Renata repeated the question, her tone growing harder by the second. "On this floor. How many rooms on this floor? Can you count them for us?"

"Why?"

"Because it will change your life," the Doctor left it at that. She didn't know what was living next door to her and once she realized it, she'd be in for the shock of her lives.

The woman decided to humor them. So she turned around and started counting the doors. "Five. One, two, three, four, five."

"Wrong," snapped Renata, making the police woman flinch. She sounded like a teacher.

"Six," the Doctor said, softer than Renata but it wasn't like he didn't understand her current feelings.

"Six?" the woman shook her head. "What do you take me-"

"Just look!" Renata insisted.

"Look where?"

"Exactly where you don't want to look," the Doctor told her, nodding at something behind her. "Where you never want to look, the corner of your eye. Look behind you."

The police woman sighed and turned where he was pointing to. She was about to chalk them off as crazy when she finally realized they were right. There was a door right there. "That's...that is not possible. How's that possible?"

"There's a perception filter round the door," the Doctor began to explain. "Sensed it the last time I was here. Should've seen it."

"But that's a whole room. That's a whole room I've never even noticed."

"That's because the filter stops you," Renata told her. "Something came a while ago to hide. It's still hiding. You need to uncuff us now!" She yanked on the handcuffs, hissing each time the metal dug into her skin.

"I don't have the key. I lost it." Because she was walking towards the door, she missed Renata's and the Doctor's dumbfounded faces.

"How can you have lost it?!" Renata shouted in outrage. She yanked on the handcuffs again, ignoring the Doctor's cry for her to stop doing that.

"Hey you! Stay away from that door!" the Doctor shouted at the police woman who was just going straight for it. "Do not touch that door! Listen to me! Do not open that-" the woman turned the knob and effectively opened the door. "Why does no one ever listen to me? Do I just have a face that nobody listens to?" He met Renata's gaze and saw her teasing smile. "Again?" he asked, disheartened over the problem repeating itself in a brand new incarnation.

Renata laughed. "I think that's just part of your personality, my dear."

The Doctor would've smiled more if he hadn't remembered the police woman wandering into the forbidden room at the end of the hallway. "Hey!"

"Sonic!" Renata exclaimed. "Mine must have dropped with that tumultuous TARDIS trip!"

The Doctor came up short with his own sonic. "My screwdriver, where is it?"

"Oh, great!" Renata rolled her eyes. Maybe her luck was beginning to change into something similar as his. That wasn't good at all!

"Silver thing, blue at the end. Where did it go?" the Doctor continued searching his pockets to no avail.

"There's nothing here!" the police woman called from inside the room.

"And who told you that it would let you see it!?" Renata snapped. She tried turning her body to where she would be able to see a bit into the room, but the only thing she did was lean on the Doctor too close.

"Seriously, you could keep doing that," he wasn't at all shy to say.

Renata paused to give him a sharp look. "Well, this new you certainly has no problem flirting."

"I said I learned my lesson last time," he said, referring to his last words before regenerating. He was done wasting time with Renata and because he knew how shy she was, he would be the bold one (not that he ever had a problem with that). He would be the one to flirt with her, do the touching until she learned how to come out of her shell - or cocoon, given her butterfly abilities - and do the same. Renata was too used to hiding herself, hiding her feelings and not expressing how she felt at moments. It was the way she was raised on Gallifrey and after 11 regenerations, it would be a hard habit to break, but not impossible.

"You said silver, blue at the end?" the police woman's call cut into the pair's moment. They looked at the open doorway and saw she was way too inside.

"My screwdriver, yeah…" the Doctor said slowly.

"It's here!"

"Must have rolled under the door," Renata reasoned but the police woman said a very interesting response.

"Yeah. Must have," the policewoman said. "And then it must have jumped up on the table…"

"Get out of there!" the Doctor yelled frantically.

Renata started yanking on the cuffs again. That policewoman really was naive to think she was safe and sound in that room. She frantically pulled and pulled, feeling desperate as the Doctor vainlessly called to the woman to get out. Suddenly, her golden energy tangled around the cuffs, snapping them in two. "Ha!" Renata laughed, totally surprised but loving the fact she could do that. The Doctor was stunned but he would take whatever worked right now. Without thinking, she grabbed the cuff still around the Doctor's wrist and watched as once more the energy wrapped around it to break it.

"Loving it!" the Doctor exclaimed and scrambled up to his feet. Just as he helped Renata up, they heard the police woman scream from the room.

The police woman ran out of the room, terrified by whatever she saw in there. The Doctor marched over the rest of the space between them and snatched his sonic from her. "Give me that!" He used it to lock the bedroom door.

"Will that door hold it?" the police woman asked them, still slightly out of breath from bolting. The creature had stared her in the face!

"Oh, yeah, yeah, course! It's an inter-dimensional multi-form from outer-space - they're all terrified of wood!" the Doctor sarcastically snapped.

A bright light flashed around the edges of the door.

"What's that? What's it doing?"

"It doesn't matter, just go!" Renata ushered the woman towards the staircase. "Your back-up's coming, we'll be fine."

The woman spun around, forcing Renata back. "There is no back-up!"

"What? But we heard you on the radio, you called for back-up!"

"I was pretending. It's a pretend radio!"

"What!? Impersonating a police woman is a crime!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I'm a kissogram!" she pulled her hat off and revealed her bright ginger hair that fell over one shoulder.

Renata was stunned but then a new thought popped in. "What's a kissogram?"

At that moment, the door of the room fell down to reveal a man in blue overalls holding a leash to a very large Rottweiler.

The ginger woman blinked at them. She had no idea how those two got into her room, but they at least seemed harmless. "But it's just…"

"No, it isn't. Look at the faces," the Doctor knew what the woman had been thinking and urged her to pay better attention.

The man was growling and barking instead of the dog.

The woman couldn't take it. "What? I'm sorry, but what!?"

"It's all one creature. One creature disguised as two! Now you really must go!" Renata tried turning the woman away, missing the way the man and the dog turned their head at them.

"Are you kidding!? I'm not leaving that there! In my house!"

"I am curious how it's pulling that psychic link if it needs a live feed," the Doctor admitted while he continued to study the man and dog. "How did you fix that?" He got a snarl as a response, followed by a threatening step towards them.

Renata yanked him back. "Please don't question the enemy when it can kill us! Am I also going to have to constantly repeat that in this regeneration!?"

"Well, I won't lie…" the Doctor swayed his head, figuring this was just another core personality trait for him.

'Attention, Prisoner Zero. The human residence is surrounded. Attention Prisoner Zero. 'The human residence is surrounded.'

The ginger woman's eyes widened in alarm. She spun around trying to find the source of the voice until Renata stopped her. Good thing she did because the woman was near dizzy. "What's that?"

'Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated.'

"Okay, now we run!" the Doctor ushered Renata and the woman down the stairs. He used the sonic to lock the house door, hoping that would buy them some time.

Renata studied the woman while the Doctor made sure the door was actually locked. His sonic was acting a bit wonky. "Seriously, what's a kissogram?" She eyed the odd uniform, bobbing her head side to side. "And does it always involve short skirts?"

The ginger woman gave her a look. "Seriously?"

Renata innocently shrugged. She had only lived on Earth from 1913 to 1969 and the one year in the modern world that she spent with the Master against her will — she was mostly locked away. She didn't have a lot of time to truly get to know the humans in modern times.

"I go to parties and kiss people!"

Renata cocked her head to one side. "And you get paid for that?"

"Yes!"

Renata considered what that must be like and she soon crinkled her nose when she decided that would not be a job she would be interested in. "And the costume is from these parties?"

"You broke into my house! It was this or a French maid!"

"Makes sense," Renata concluded. The Doctor finally got some handle on the sonic and yanked her and the woman away from the house.

"What's going on? Tell me! Tell me!" the woman rightfully demanded as they crossed the yard towards the TARDIS.

"An alien convict is hiding in your spare room disguised as a man and a dog, and some other aliens are about to incinerate your house. Any questions?"

The woman flipped her head to Renata, but the Time Lady confirmed the story with a nod. "Sort of it, sorry."

The Doctor groaned at the TARDIS who wouldn't open her doors. "No, no, don't do that, not now! It's still rebuilding, not letting us in!"

"Well what'd you expect after the number we put her through?" Renata gave the TARDIS and sympathetic glance. "We'll just have to make do until she's ready."

'Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated.'

The Doctor flapped an arm at the house behind them. "We need the TARDIS! How can we stop them if I don't have the TARDIS!?"

"Never stopped you before," Renata smiled at him. The Doctor stopped fussing with the TARDIS to meet her smiling gaze.

The woman groaned at them and grabbed each of the pair's arms. "Come on!"

The Doctor would've let her take them to the street had he not seen the new-looking shed on the side of the garden. "No, wait, hang on, wait, wait, wait. The shed!" he got loose from the woman's hold and rushed up to the shed. Renata blinked at the sight of it as well. "We destroyed that shed last time we were here, smashed it to pieces!"

"So there's a new one. Let's go!" the woman tried pulling Renata with her but now the Time Lady was suspicious as well. She pried the woman's hand off her wrist and studied the shed.

"It might be new but it's also old," Renata said as she noticed the darkened spots of the shed's wood. The Doctor ran a hand down the wood. "It could be—" she stopped mid-word when the Doctor licked his finger to taste the wood. Renata scrunched her face, eyes shutting close. "Doctor—"

"12 years!" the Doctor whirled around with the right answer, stunning Renata in the process. He marched back to them, specifically to the ginger woman. "We're not six months late, we're 12 years late!"

"It's been 12 years," Renata felt her stomach churn wondering how angry little Amelia must have been with them. They broke their promise to her!

Meanwhile, the woman seemed more nervous than a few seconds ago. "He's coming!" she made a nod at the house still in danger of being incinerated.

"You said six months. Why did you say six months?" Renata got right in her face, demanding to hear the truth. She knew that the woman was hiding something. She knew the way people kept secrets because that had been her main job not too long ago.

"We've got to!" the woman insisted but Renata grabbed her arm tightly. The woman knew something about Amelia, what with those big eyes—

"The big eyes…" Renata whispered with her own wide eyes.

The woman only stared at her, mildly confused, but otherwise still nervous. "Look, we've got to go!"

"Not until you tell us!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Why did you say six months?"

The woman's thin eyebrows furrowed together as pain flashed across her face. "Why did you say five minutes?!" she shouted at both of them, pulling her arm out of Renata's hold.

"What?" the Doctor practically froze in his spot, only moving his head to see Renata staring sadly at the woman.

"She has the same big eyes," she told him. "Amelia's big eyes."

The woman, who was indeed Amelia, glared at her. "They are not big! C'mon!" She led the way out of the house, figuring if they wanted to continue with the conversation they would follow her into the street.

"You're Amelia!?" the Doctor was right behind the woman, forcing her to stop just to look at her again.

"You're late!" hissed Amelia and continued to walk.

"You were a little girl," Renata did her best to keep up with Amelia's fast pace. "Amelia Pond!"

"I'm Amelia and you're late!" Amelia hissed directly at Renata's face, eyes blazing with anger. "Five minutes my a—"

"I'm so sorry!" Renata threw her arms around the woman, hugging her tight.

Amelia had been expecting anything but that. Her big, green eyes flickered all around while she awkwardly stood there being hugged. She met the Doctor's gaze who was smiling softly at Renata.

"We didn't mean to be late! I'm never late!" Renata pulled away from Amelia, looking her over one more time. She was a complete adult now! Renata sighed and brought a hand to her forehead, letting her fingers dig through her black hair. "Amelia, I am so sorry. We really did mean to come back but the TARDIS is just…" She trailed off and shook her head, deciding that Amelia probably wasn't interested in excuses. She'd been wronged and she was rightfully upset. "No excuses. We're sorry. I did think of a star for you, though. I thought the Big Dipper might have been good. It's a popular one amongst the humans. I'm sorry."

Amelia arched a confused eyebrow at the Time Lady. She looked so guilty that it made Amelia feel like she was wrong for being so angry. How did Renata make that happen!? She glanced at the Doctor and while he looked pretty guilty himself, it was nothing compared to Renata. She was horrified.

Amelia wondered for the first time in 12 years, who really are these two aliens? She spent all her life imagining them in adventures that now that she had them actually in front of her, she had to rewrite everything she knew about them. Who was the Doctor? And who was Renata?

Author's Note:

And there's our first chapter! I am SUPER excited to move onto this story (I think some of yall may have noticed before). We've already seen a glimpse of what Amy thinks of the Time Lords and how they see her, specifically Renata. Their relationship will be a little more complicated because of Ren's drive to maintain the rules buuuut we'll see how it goes ;)

[morston-trash]

Content

This is a Morston Fanfic that I wrote in between other works. It is trash but I am happy with it and felt like I needed to post it somewhere. 

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

No smut, the most that happens is making out. Alcohol consumption.

John looked around, making sure that no one was around to witness him. Even in his drunken state, he knew this was a bad idea. Arthur would probably punch him if he found him in his room. But he, Dutch, and Hosea had gone out on a scouting trip, making sure that no lawmen had followed them this far. It was just the four males, the four outlaws. It had been that way ever since John had joined the ragtag group when he was a boy. Now, he was a young man. A drunken fool of a man perhaps, but a young man nonetheless. There were three rooms in the cabin they were holed up in for the winter. The two older men thought it was too brutal of a winter to be moving around from place to place, living in their tents. John, being the youngest, was situated on the sorry excuse for a couch that was provided in their temporary home. Artur had offered to share a room with him, but his stubborn pride forced him to refuse the offer. That's what he was going to go with. Not the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the older man. No, that wasn't possible. Even if it was, the youngest man would never admit it to anyone but himself. It was clear, no one was around to catch him in Arthur's room. He entered the dark room. Almost immediately, the intoxicating smell of the older man overtook his senses. The entire room smelt of its inhabitant, Arthur Morgan. Cheap whiskey, cigarettes, gunpowder, sweat, and horses. All things that, when combined together, made up the smell of the blonde-headed brute. It brought warmth to the younger male's insides, one that he couldn't explain. 'It's just the whiskey,' he thought to himself. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but it only made him dizzy. The entire room was spinning. He stumbled over to Arthur's cot that was situated against the middle of the back wall. He practically fell onto the uncomfortable piece of furniture. He didn't even attempt to get up, he knew that he would just fall down again. Shit, he had never been this drunk before. He didn't even remember why he had decided to down the bottle of whiskey. Just for the hell of it? To drown his sorrows? To chase away the harsh cold? All of the thinking he was doing was hurting his head, not an uncommon occurrence for the raven-haired male. As gravity held him against the cot, he felt something underneath him. John shifted just enough that he could pull it out from underneath himself. His vision was blurred from the alcohol, but he managed to make it out. It was Arthur's light leather jacket that he wore when it wasn't quite cold enough for his large, fur-lined, denim duster. He pulled it up to his face, inhaling deeply. He took in every bit of Arthur's scent. In his current state, he decided that it would be a good idea to wear the jacket. Slipping his arms into the sleeves, he put it on. It swallowed him. The owner was a broad, muscular, mature man while he was a thin, scrappy, young man. The drink had a hold on him, making his eyelids feel heavier than they ever had before. He fought to keep his eyes open. But the more he struggled to stay awake, the harder it became to keep conscious. Before he had even known it, he had passed out in Arthur's room, on his cot, wearing his jacket, and smelling of booze.

"Now remember, keep your heads down. We don't need to draw any unwanted attention. That means keeping an eye on John as well, Arthur," Dutch explained. "That's right, we don't need him getting into any trouble. Just long enough for us to wait out this bitterly cold winter," Hosea chimed in. "But why me? Y'all will need help, ya ain't exactly young no more," Arthur laughed to cover up his displeasure. Sure, he and the younger man got along well. But John was hotheaded, cocky, hard to control sometimes. He didn't much like the idea of being stuck with him for the next few months. "Because he looks up to you, he'll listen to you once you get through to him. We're not as old as you would like to imagine either," Dutch said, seemingly ending the discussion and leaving Arthur with his thoughts. Hosea looked back to him sympathetically, knowing just how hard this would be for Mogan. He may be a big brute who naturally took charge, but he absolutely hated babysitting. He always felt he could b doing things that were actually of use, helpful, getting things done was what he lived for. He liked to be of use. Babysitting the younger man wasn't exactly what he considered being useful, even if Dutch thought otherwise. His word was final, so it looked like he would be stuck with John attached to his hip at all times. The ride back to the cabin was mostly quiet, the occasional sound coming from the horses or a complaint about the cold being the only noise to be heard. The snow made the ride harder on the horses, so they hadn't strayed far from their temporary home. They didn't want to overwork or injure the animals. That would be just as bad as being without. As they came upon the homestead in which they were staying, the trio made their way to the barn opposite from the cabin. They dismounted before leading the horses into the wooden structure. Arthur leads his American Paint mare into her stall before removing her tack. Dutch led his Thoroughbred stallion into the stall across from Arthur's, following suite. Hosea put his Tenessee Walker mare into the stall beside Dutch, across from where John's Andalusian stallion was kept. Once all of the horses were tended to, free of tack, and settled in, the pair left the outbuilding and made their way to the house. Arthur made it inside first, noticing almost immediately the frigid air inside of the cabin. Turning his head towards the fireplace, he noticed that the fire had gone out. Marston had let the fire go out. He sighed before making his way over to salvage the dying embers. He would have to gripe at him later. It was too cold to be forgetting to tend the fire. As he got to the fireplace, his father figures ade their way inside as well. He saw that they knew what had happened, it shone in their eyes. They chose not to say anything. Once the dirty blonde headed man had saved them from freezing to death, he scanned the room for the younger man. He was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the building as far as he could tell. Ah, shit, he would have to go looking for the boy. He was already proving to be an annoyance. "Dutch, Hosea! Have y'all seen John?" the man yelled to the pair of older men. "No," Dutch responded from his room. "I haven't, maybe he went outside!" Hosea called from the couch. Arthur shook his head. He didn't want to go back out there, he just got back. He decided to wait, just in case, he came back. He made his way to his room, it was the first door leading from the main room. The sight that greeted him brought a flood of feelings flying to his chest. There the boy was, passed out drunk on his cot and wearing his jacket. He was almost cute like this, peaceful and calm. But he was in his spot. He made his way over to the younger man. Pressing his boot against his back, he pushed him off of the cot. "H-hey..! What the hell... Morgan? What are you doing here?" the raven headed man asked, confused. "More like what are you doing here? And why are ya wearing my jacket, Marston?" Arthur teases. He didn't actually mind, he just wanted to mess with the boy. He watched the confusion pool inside of the younger man as he looked around. It took only moments for him to figure out where he was. He was in Arthur's room. Shit, just what had he done while he was in his drunken stupor? His head throbbed, trying to remember anything that would be helpful. He drew blanks, unable to think of a valid excuse. "Oh, um... I, uh... Um, I-I..." He stuttered before giving up. He was certain that Arthur already knew. It was obvious. He wasn't even going to try to make up an excuse. He just sat down on the wooden floor, looking down. Embarrassment ran hot through him, his face flushing. He didn't know quite what to do. He wasn't one to show emotion, but he couldn't hide the look of embarrassment and pain on his face. Hot tears threatened to pool into his eyes, but he pushed them away. He wouldn't give the asshole the satisfaction. Arthur almost felt bad, he could hear John sniffling. Of course, he knew exactly why John was in here. He could smell the whiskey radiating off of the younger man. He could hear him calling his name when he had a nightmare. The boy talked in his sleep. He was easy to read, too. He shook his head slightly, John was a god damned mess. However, he couldn't say that he disliked these qualities of his. He found them to be adorable, despite the rough demeanor of the younger man. As much as he wanted to pounce on the younger man, to kiss him and so much more, he held his ground and controlled himself. He refused to take advantage of him. He was drunk and obviously not in any state for rational thinking. He sighed, shaking his head once again. This was so much trouble already. "Let's get ya up and outta here," Arthur suggested calmly. "Yeah," John mumbled, barely audible. Arthur walked to the other side of the cot. Extending his hand towards the younger man, he reached for his hand. John grabbed it, using Arthur to pull himself up. Once standing, he attempted to stumble a few steps forward. However, he failed. He fell back down onto the cabin floor. He attempted to get up by himself, but the whiskey's grip had turned his legs to jelly. He was frustrated, why did things like this always happen to him. It was just like Arthur always said, he really is a mess. He couldn't help but take comfort in those words. The older man was always there for him, to pull him out of whatever trouble he managed to stir up. He was the only one that cared enough to. As much as his father figures loved him, they'd rather just run away, flee to the next town. If it wasn't for the dirty blonde, they would have been run out of every town they had ever visited. That was just one of the many reasons he loved the older male. Arthur stood there, pity in his eyes. He knew John was embarrassed about this whole situation. Helping him would only make it worse. The boy had the stubborn pride of an angry bull. He wasn't scared even in the slightest of the other male, but he didn't feel like making this more difficult than it had to be. There had to be a way to somehow fix this. Suddenly an idea formed in his brain. The sound of the other man's boots crossing the wooden floor brought him out of his self-pitying thoughts. John raised his head to look at Arthur. There was a twinkle of mischief in his gorgeous blue-green eyes. Just what was that man up to? He gave him a confused look, hoping to get an explanation. He was not granted that pleasure. The older man loved to tease, to confuse him. Without any sort of warning, Arthur grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close. John's heart beat furiously at the sudden closeness. The older man examined the younger, scanning his face for any sort of negative reaction. As expected: he found no objections. With that taken care of, he smashed his lips against the raven-haired man. John's eyes widened in surprise. The man he loved, Arthur Morgan, was kissing him. Without thinking, he kissed back. 'Good boy,' Arthur thought to himself. He would have said it out loud had his lips not been busy devouring the taste of John's. He quickly slid his arms under Marston, not giving him a chance to complain. Their lips didn't part, instead, the kiss deepened. Arthur ran his tongue across John's bottom lip, asking for permission. He obliged, eagerly parting his lips for his superior. This was wrong, taking advantage of the still tipsy man, but he wasn't going to do anything extreme. He would never allow himself to do that. He would keep himself reigned in, despite how badly he wanted the younger man. He carried the pair of them to his cot, sitting down before placing John down beside him. He broke the kiss, separating so that they could catch their breath. John was a blushing mess, a sight that Arthur quite enjoyed. He couldn't hide his smirk. He felt like a wolf preying on a lamb, not an incorrect comparison. He lay down before pulling John to his chest. The cot was just barely big enough for the pair. John's smaller body was pressed snuggly against Arthur's more muscular frame. "Sleep it off, ya drunken idiot," Arthur teased. "W-whatever, Morgan," John growled playfully. The younger male rested his head against his superior's shoulder. He was so comfortable, so content, so damn happy. Could it get any better? Probably not. He had been waiting for this for so long, and here it was. He was over the moon with excitement and joy. He couldn't sleep. He was in too good of a mood to rest. The kiss had chased away the remainder of his drunkenness. He wouldn't let Morgan know that of course. But he was content for once in his life and you could bet that he was going to enjoy this.

[chemicalmongrel]

The Union of Beauty and the Beast

Birthday Gift for Francis! | @yunalaqi

Author - Ghost Characters - Warwick, Qiyana, Sizani and Firefang. Word Count - 5,538

It began as many stories of happiness and fulfillment do--with a single spontaneous moment. One crucial meeting that might’ve never happened had the stars not aligned just right, something inconsequential at first blooming into something beatific and majestic. Much like a seed germinated in rich, fertile soil that will one day grow mighty with the right hands to nurture it along and the right level of determination to weather any hardship.  For this, the moment was the day Qiyana and Warwick’s agents agreed on putting together a collab between the two artists. The soil was the constant proximity they had, and their desire to ensure a finished product of superb quality. Meanwhile, the growing fondness they had for one another, the distance between their hearts shortening, were the hands responsible for nurturing the sapling. And their determination to endure strife came through in their refusal to cut off contact once the project came to a close.  They knew one another for several years following their collab, and nothing was ever the same after.  It was most apparent in the works produced by Warwick.  No longer were they harsh, cutting to the quick about seemingly disparate things without any genuine passion behind the words. Rather, more and more harmonious melodies came forward to accentuate loving lyrics directed towards an unseen individual. Each verse was delivered with such enthusiasm and heart that none thought him capable of before. More videos were released about issues around the world, paralleling an increasing effort on the part of the concrete jungle’s king to leave the world a better place than he found it.  Without warning, the beast seemed to have found his long-lost spark amid the embers of the dying fire in his breast.  More subtly was the change in the empress of True Death.  She’d always been a hard-working woman dedicated to seeing the dreams of her and the family she found in the band come to fruition. But after the collab project? It was as if she was trying to outdo herself at every opportunity: rhymes became more fluid, beats resonant all the quicker, the meaning behind every word hit home harder, and the choreography of each video more and more eye-catching.  All in all, it seemed the woman was hellbent on ensuring the stride she hit with her band was but the first stage of TD’s success.  But they never let their evolving relationship slip out to be disseminated to the public. It was all very hush-hush--kept to the coziness of private moments. Of course, this didn’t stop some tenacious people from capturing snippets of intimate moments. Nor did their efforts fully curtail any rumors from being born and spreading to anyone willing to listen. Yet no one realized the entirety of the situation, all thanks to the two’s desire to keep these moments private.  That is until the day Warwick, without concern for anyone watching, decided to take a knee before his queen, his empress, with an outstretched hand and open box.  Then the world of music was abuzz with commotion.

Warwick never expected the sheer scope of planning and setting up a wedding required. This was compounded by the fact that preparing parties had never been his forte, let alone something as paramount as a wedding. This was due in large part to his disdain for large get-togethers. He’d never seen the appeal of trying to rub shoulders with socialites or other well-to-do folks, whether they were part of the music world or not. His dislike for such affairs as those was so great, in fact, that his agents more or less had to bribe him to attend soirees that were very important to his career.  This time, though, was very different--he actually cared about the proceedings, for one. He cared so much that the consideration of performing all manners of awfulness on anyone who tried to spoil the proceedings had crossed his mind a number of times. Yet while he wouldn’t be happy if Qiyana wasn’t, Warwick did his best to console his betrothed when the idea of something going awry worked its way into her head. One way he did so was by taking an active role in helping set the whole thing up.  That way, at the very least, she didn’t have to shoulder the burden alone.  However, this was easier said than done as Qiyana insisted the two of them refrained from seeing one another until the day of, not until she was walking down the aisle. She explained to him--over text--how disaster awaited any bride or groom who met in person before the ceremony. And while he may not have believed such superstition, he was more than willing to humor her to abate her concerns.  Thus he kept his phone on his person at all times, and never let a single notification from his cell go unnoticed.  A notable instance of Warwick needing to shoulder something Qiyana couldn’t see to because of how hectic her schedule was growing the closer the date approached: when she asked him to meet with the wedding planner to help decide on the types of flowers to be used in the decor. It seemed rather trivial to him, but the planner ensured that the proper arrangement of beatific bouquets would cement the memory in every guest’s mind. The skeptic in him wanted to disagree on principle. But he held his tongue and went to go meet with the planner.  They met at the building where the ceremony would be held. I t was an extravagant ballroom lined with massive windows along the back wall as it curved around and provided an overlook of a sandy coastline, the tide lapping against the beach’s particulate without rhyme or reason. One could close their eyes and be serenaded by the oceanic hymn nature was so gracious to provide. There was a gray overcast preventing the usual soft streaks of radiance from cascading through onto the polished marble floor. Rows of seats draped with stark silk and tied off towards the center with an indigo bow provided an aisle for the bride and groom to walk down. Where the aforementioned couple would stand, in front of the priest, was an archway carved out of a single immense block of marble. Floral patterns were conjoined with idyllic scenes of a perennial forest that could trace its history back before the emergence of mankind, all etched into its surface. This ornate aesthetic was furthered by the strips of fine fabric hung from the trusses of the ceiling, each accented by strips of golden embroidery.  Truly, the only thing missing from such a scenic view was a final splash of life and color--the flowers.  “So, I have a few options based on you and your bride’s tastes to choose from--although considering Qiyana’s favorite seems to be the hibiscus, I thought it best to narrow the choices down to species of that specific type.” The way the planner spoke caused Warwick’s ears to chafe.  The woman snapped her fingers three times as she walked with the towering beast down the aisle, stopping and turning to face him once at the spot where the vows would be sworn. Several other people hurried up with an armful of fresh hibiscus bouquets in tow, the bright scarlet heads of the flora bouncing in sync with their carriers’ step. Tiny pearls of gold dotted the tip of the flowers’ stigma, yet the vivid appearance belied a rather modest fragrance.  “These look good, yeah,” Warwick murmured, nodding to himself.  These would no doubt compliment the overall decor if placed with the seats as per Qiyana’s outline. But something nagged at him.  “...these also gunna be used ta scatter on t’e aisle?”  Preoccupied with jotting something down on the papers attached to her clipboard, the planner dismissed the people with a wave of her hand. “Hmm?”  She didn’t even look up from her notes. “Oh. Yes, that would be the plan.”  Looming over her, the beast tapered his eyes and lifted his lips high as either ear stood to attention. He’d never enjoyed having someone not afford him the courtesy of meeting his gaze during a conversation. But this woman, in particular, irked him something fierce.  “Wou’d it be possible ta change t’e kinda flow’r used fer t’at?”  This was enough to catch her attention, evidently, as she looked up with bewildered eyes.  “Ye-es...?”  “Oka’, t’en I’d like ta use Forget Me Nots instead, thank ya.”  “...might I ask-”  “No.”  And with that, the man was sauntering off.  Later that day, he’d crash back into the sofa of his living room with an exasperated sigh before pulling out his phone. Even with the custom design meant to accommodate his unique biology, it was still a hassle to use. Regardless, he pulled up his wife-to-be’s contact information and send her a text--he only hoped she wasn’t busy with anything or too tired to respond.  >>Rohi--I need to ask you somethin.  Afterward, he placed the thing facedown onto the fabric straining against his chest and waited. Thankfully it wasn’t much of a wait. For within the span of a few minutes, the notification blip caught his attention.  >>Yes? What is it? And did you talk with the planner about the flowers?  >>Yeah, I did--that’s actually what I wanted to ask you about. Is it okay that I asked her to change what kind was used on the aisle?  >>Well, what did you change it to?  >>Forget-Me-Nots.  >>Your favorite? They’re really pretty, can I ask why you wanted them?  >>Forget-Me-Nots represent memory, ya ken? Like, if you use em, then it’s like saying you never wanna forget somethin. Mom said she had em next to her when I was born... they were there when she died, too. Our gettin together? Is somethin I never wanna forget, not for a second.  There was no response for several moments.  >>Rohi?  >>Sorry, sorry. That’s so sweet, I love it <3  >>Anythin for you, lov’ <3  Without realizing, Warwick had started smiling like some lovestruck fool--because he was one when it came to Qiyana.  >>I love you so much, Warwick <3  >>Not as much as I love you  >>Nuh uh, I love you more, I have a trophy that says so  >>Well I’ve got four times as big a heart as anyone out there, so I got much more to love with  And it went on like this until the chimera, along with his wifey, passed out.

Frazzled nerves and a stomach full of butterflies were common experiences for women on the day of their joyful nuptials, but Qiyana was anything but a common woman. For her, the day leading up to the ceremony filled her with exponential euphoria and excitement at the thought of being united with her hubby. She’d been smiling the whole time while touching up her visage with a tidbit of makeup. But these feelings were nowhere near as intense as they were now that she was standing in front of a mirror in the dressing room of the building the marriage was taking place in. Something which did not escape the notice of her omele, Sizani, even while preoccupied with helping her grandchild slip into her wedding dress.  At her ripe age, Qiyana's omele was still a beatific woman wielding wisdom and overt authority in equal measures from the dark pools of chocolate amid an ocean of white in her eyes. She was the kind of individual people came to for sage advice yet never understood what was given until the exact moment they’d need it. Her snow-white hair was pulled taut into numerous dreadlocks that curled down past the nape of her neck and rested against her shoulders. Sizani was often seen wearing delicate fabrics colored in differing shades of purple, accentuated by the ornate jewelry commonly found on her person.  Suffice to say, Qiyana owed her beauty to what she inherited from her omele--or so the old woman claimed.  Despite all of her stern demeanor, though, Sizani was more than eager to crack a few jokes and tease her grandchild with her choice of man. It was enough to get Qiyana to crack a smile and giggle alongside her grandmother. She even returned the ribbing in kind as they continued to fit her for her dress--spending time with her omele always put a smile on her face.  Eventually, the dress was fitted snug over Qiyana’s curves.  The outfit boasted a soft palette of pinks and shades of white, as well as the finest silk money could buy. A window exposed her back, framing the veiled skin like a picture one would keep on their nightstand. Strips of transparent material along either fitted sleeve evinced her mocha flesh, each coming to a unified point at a single ring of precious metal around her middle finger. And up from the profuse transparent frills billowing out from the chapel trailing a foot behind her to the decotellage exposing her cleavage, stark embroidery fashioned in the likeness of blooming flowers interwoven with heart-like shapes decorated the fabric. Said decotellage brought attention to the various pieces of jewelry Warwick had bought for her over the years with the centerpiece being a necklace that had half of a heart-shaped locket dangling at the end.  It was as if the Empress of some exotic, far-off kingdom had come to bless the peasantry of a third-world nation with her presence.  Spinning in a circle once, twice and thrice, an ear-to-ear smile worked its way onto Qiyana’s countenance. The same delight was evident on Sizani’s face as she clapped several times. Save for the moment she was signed on by the TD producer, there was no moment in her life that filled Qiyana with as much euphoric joy as the day of her marriage.  “You look perfect~!” Sizani said.  “I know I do, but thank you for reminding me,” Qiyana responded.  As if to further reinforce this fact, there was a series of excited yaps from the third occupant of the room. He normally came up to his mother’s, Qiyana, knee but now was only about mid-shin height with her high heels on. Big ears he’d yet to grow into had only just begun stiffening a few weeks prior, so both were still partially floppy. There was a tiny pink ribbon secured around his neck in place of a collar for the special event. A coat of tawny brown fur with accents of fiery gold covered the body of a wolf puppy that’s barely a month shy of half a year old. This pint-sized bundle of energy and jubilation was Firefang, Qiyana’s most precious baby.  Firefang had been snoozing away atop a fancy downy pillow near where the two women had been fiddling with the dress, and now that they were done, he was up and ready to hoard all of his mommy’s attention.  “Seems like your baby wants to remind you, too.”  She shuffled over and bent over to pinch either of her baby’s cheeks, stretching them out with a grin and giving his head little shakes. Qiyana even scritched behind his ears and placed kisses atop his forehead. This was met by more yapping and a blep of his tongue. He was satisfied with the affection she showered him in.  “Careful, you’ll need to reapply your makeup if he starts giving you kisses.”  “Thank you for the concern, but it’ll be fine-”  There came a knocking at the dressing room’s door, then the voice of Sizani’s husband informing the trio that it was a few minutes until they had to go. So, unfortunately, the hijinx occurring between those within the room had to be concluded.  Sizani approached Qiyana with a soft grin, hands folded over one another against her waist, before reaching out to swaddle her grandchild in either arm. While usually reluctant, the melodica empress leaned into the embrace with a tightness her normal disposition belied. It was the kind of affection she’d never received from her supposed sisters, even her own parents. That was but one reason why she made sure none but her omele and her husband received an invitation to the wedding.  There was fierce yapping from the side, garnering the women’s attention, as Firefang demanded to be included. They smiled and scooped up the canine to be squished between them in the hug. After a moment, once Firefang was balanced atop Sizani’s shoulder, they pulled away and Qiyana finally glimpsed the sheer intensity of pride and exultation burned in the other’s eyes.  “I’m so proud of you,” Sizani whispered.  “I’m so happy you came,” Qiyana breathed.  “I wouldn’t miss my precious granddaughter’s big day even if someone offered me the whole world.”  To witness the sheer joy softening the bride’s face at that moment would’ve been to gaze upon the sun itself as it crested the mountainous horizon with its rose-tipped fingers. For a moment, warm liquid welled up at the corners of her eyes--but being who she was, Qiyana did her best to wipe them away.  Another knock came at the door to serve as a reminder.  “Yes, yes, we heard you the first time, []! Everyone can wait while I congratulate my baby!”  This earned profuse apology on the part of her husband, a confused mmm-ing from Firefang and a hearty chuckle from Qiyana.  The elderly woman huffed a moment, annoyance contorting her visage a moment, before laughing with a sigh and moving Firefang from her shoulder to a more stable grip in either arm and hand.  “No matter what anyone says about you, know that your omele loves you more than anyone--even that lumbering man who’s fallen for you. Okay? You’re the best singer out there, and that man is the luckiest man alive to get to be with you.”  “I know, I know-”  “And if he ever mistreats you!--”  “Omele, please! He’d never do that, but, still... thank you, thank you so much for everything. For always supporting me; for always being there for me. It meant... so, so very, very much.”  An ear-to-ear grin spread across Sizani’s face, “It was always a pleasure to support you...”  Without another word, the two shared yet another tight embrace before parting anew and moving towards the door.  “Shall we?”  “Lets~!”  “YAPYAP!!”  When the door opened, Qiyana was greeted with the jubilant warmth of her omele’s husband and one of her best friend’s smiling faces. They were present for several reasons with the chief among them being to take Firefang off their hands. Each gave the bride their congratulations, sharing a hug and cheek kiss with her while passing off a bouquet of Forget Me Nots and hibiscus, before going off to take their seats with the tiny spitfire in tow. There was a brief moment of struggle when doing so, though, as the puppy was loath to be apart from his mommy. But since it was two people he liked doing so, with the aid of Qiyana’s kisses and reassurances, Firefang was willing to acquiesce.  After they departed, Sizani extended an arm towards her granddaughter and Qiyana took her up on the gesture and interlocked it with her own arm while resting the opposing limb’s hand against her omele’s bicep. Then they began their trek.

Qiyana heard before she saw anything as a delicate piano began its solo serenade of the people invited to the affair. For a moment, there’d been the chatter of those now seated accompanying the piano. But they were very quick to die down to nothing. Then her nose picked up on the duet playing out between the modest fragrance of the hibiscus and the much stronger scent of the Forget Me Not flowers, the latter of which was far more restrained than what it could be had whole Forget Me Nots been used. And once she turned the corner into the open archway leading into the ballroom, she, at last, saw what she’d been anticipating from the moment Warwick got down on one knee.   A trail of Forget Me Not petals led up to where Warwick and the priest stood beneath the marble arch. The former boasted a charcoal black tuxedo, even its custom size left the fabric straining against his bulk, bereft of its sleeves with a maroon red tie secured around his neck. The fur atop his head was slicked back to match the rest of his kempt pelt’s tidied aesthetic. Either of his ears was upright until she appeared, then they angled back slightly as his forehead smoothed while his brow raised up. His eyes, brimming with emotion, widened and his muzzle relaxed, jaw dropped ever so slightly. Framed by the soft palette of reds, yellows and oranges with indigo undertones that would grow increasingly skewed towards violet as the evening marched on into dusk were the people that’d been invited. It was not a large gathering of people by any means as this was a very intimate, private ceremony between those important to the bride and groom, primarily: the members of Qiyana’s family; Yasuo, Akali, Senna and her husband, her best friend and omele’s husband who made sure to keep Firefang from acting too rambunctious atop his seat, the wedding planner, the photographer hired to capture every second of the event, and a seat reserved for someone paramount to the groom.  Who was this individual?  Why it wasn’t a person at all.  Rather, the cushioned seat propped up a single framed picture--the picture it contained was of Warwick’s mother, smiling with her arms wrapped around someone that’d been removed by someone who’d torn the photo.  Sizani tightened her arm around Qiyana’s, getting her to look her way to exchange one final smile before regarding the path ahead of them anew.  In sync with the piano, the two sauntered down the aisle as everyone present turned to watch the scene unfold. Everyone was smiling and quiet, save for Firefang who started yapping upon noticing his mommy. And with every step closer she got to her soon-to-be husband, Qiyana’s heart skipped a beat.  Finally, her and her omele parted with a kiss as she took her place in front of Warwick and Sizani took her seat next to her husband. The look in Warwick’s eyes, as they usually did, told Qiyana everything she needed to hear--just like that, in an instant, every second they couldn’t be together was forgotten, swept away by the deluge of overwhelming joy coursing throughout her psyche. Then the piano came to a waning conclusion as the priest cleared his throat and opened the book he’d been holding against his breast.  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the presence of God, to witness the joining together of Warwick and Qiyana in the holy covenant of marriage. Warwick and Qiyana recognize that marriage is an important part of God’s plan for mankind. Marriage is not just a social occasion with a religious touch thrown in. It is a service of worship from beginning to end, in which vows are made, prayers are offered, and blessings are given.  “Warwick, if it is your intent to marry Qiyana, please respond with “I do.” Warwick, do you take Qiyana to be your wedded wife, to live together in holy matrimony and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for as long as you both shall live?”  “I do.”  “Qiyana Yun Tal, if it is your intent to marry Michael, please respond with “I do.” Qiyana, do you take Michael to be your wedded husband, to live together in holy matrimony, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for as long as you both shall live?”  “I do~”  By now, those in charge of him managed to quiet Firefang down.  “The ceremony of marriage is the first and oldest ceremony in the world. It was celebrated in the beginning of time in the presence of God himself. Marriage is a gift from God, given to comfort the sorrows and magnify life’s joy. Qiyana and Warwick, in all of life, rare is the moment that is filled with more hope, more joy, and more expectation that this sacred moment. By God’s design this moment will never be repeated, but rather be cherished as long as you both shall live.  “A good marriage is created.  “The little things in your life will become the big things. You will never be too old to hold hands, never be too old to say good night or for a gentle kiss. A good marriage is remembering to say “I love you” on a regular basis. It is never going to sleep angry. It is standing together, leaning on each other for strength and support. It is having the capacity to forgive and forget. It is providing an atmosphere in which each of you can grow. It is finding room for the fruits of the spirit; which are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  “It is not only marrying the right partner--it is being the right partner.  “So much preparation has gone into making this moment a special occasion for you two and your guests. These next few minutes are more important than anything else that will happen today. These are the moments that you will look back and remember when you have children, when you have arguments, when you buy your first house together.  “Don’t ever forget the words that you say this day; with God’s help, they will sustain your marriage through all of life’s ups and downs.”  The subtle angling and twitching of the man’s ears were no doubt caused by picking up on people tearing up from the occasion.  “To all those who have joined us to witness this special commitment by Warwick and Qiyana,” he made a broad sweeping gesture out towards the bridal party, “you play an important role in the lives of this couple. Your attendance here shows that you care for them and are supporting this marriage. I would ask that your support of this marriage not end on this day, but that you continue to support the union that they commit to.  “It is often easy for us to undermine the value of the marriage commitment by saying simple things like “you don’t deserve this, you really should think about divorce” or even taking sides in an argument. Guard the words that you say, in jest and in counsel to this couple. Commit today, as friends and family, to uphold this marriage to the best of your ability and never do anything to harm it.”  He turned and regarded Warwick, craning his neck up to do so.  “Warwick, God has given you a unique personality and talents that add to this marriage. When Qiyana was asked why she chose to marry you, she says that you make her laugh, you got along with those most important to her, and above all else, you cherished her like no other. She said that she appreciates that you value her opinions, yet she can trust you to make good decisions for your family. Paul reminds us in Ephesians, that husbands are to love their wives as Christ loved the church. At this moment your love for your bride is apparent, I challenge you to grow in that love as you grow old together in life. Put her needs above your own and lead selflessly.” And then he shifted his gaze down to Qiyana.  “Qiyana, as is apparent today, your groom finds you beautiful! When asked why he chose you to be his wife, Michael’s first response was “she saw something in a lumbering beast.” In our conversations together, it became apparent that without you around, Warwick might have stayed forever numb to his surroundings, forever maintaining a cold, stony heart! Warwick values your intelligence and that you are supportive of him as a person and the things that he enjoys doing.”  Then he returned his gaze to between the two of them.  “The two of you have a chance today to start your own family. You complement each other. Where one is weak, the other is strong. When one of you falls, the other can help pick them up. Choose today to keep God as the center of your marriage and there will be nothing that you could encounter that would tear you apart.”  “These vows that you are about to commit are just words, but they cement forever your commitment to one another. Please, join hands and face one another as you recite the vows that’ve kept you up for so many nights crafting, perfecting, for one another.”  They did so without delay, Warwick extending either of his massive mitts to take in Qiyana’s as they met each other’s gaze.  They both started at once, then stopped to chuckle before allowing Qiyana to go first.

 “Before I met you, Warwick, my life was dedicated to my baby, Firefang, and the family I found in Akali, Yasuo, Senna, her husband Lucian and Ekko. I didn’t believe I had the time to fit in something as intimate and precious as what we have now. Never before did I think I’d ever find a man or woman who’d become the entirety of my universe like you have. So no matter what, until the day I breathe my last, I will never listen to the people questioning our relationship, people expecting us to be normal--I will stand by your side, loving you with every fiber of my being.”  Further disproving everyone who decried Warwick as a heartless beast of a man, tears began rolling freely from his eyes as Qiyana recited her painstaking vows. The runnels bled and diffused into the fur of his face. His hands tightened around hers as he cleared his throat to speak.

 “’ve... nev’r been good w’th expressin’ myself through werds, and I of’en prefer showin’ someone ‘ow I feel rather’en tellin’, ya ken? So... what more ken I say t’at I’ve not already shown? So very much, I foun’ out as I thought ‘bout it... Qiyana, when I call ya Rohi, nev’r told ya what it meant--it means, “My soul.” Cause ya ar’ jus’ t’at, yer my soul, my everythin’... I wouldn’ be the man I am now without ya, wouldn’ be doin’ my momma proud without ya--bein’ more ‘n more like my old man... Yer the sun t’at brightens my day ‘n chases the ov’rcast away; yer the muse of my ev’ry song now; yer the woman t’at saw somethin’ a wurth in the body of a monst’r who couldn’ care less if som’un died in front’uv ‘is eyes...  “Yer... everythin’--I cannit even think of a life without ya...”  Now it was the Empress of True Damage’s turn to start shedding tears--something a scarce few people have ever seen. They carved a path down her face, smearing aspects of her makeup and dripping off her chin onto the marble floor.  After a moment of quiet, save for the whining of Firefang at seeing his mommy cry, the priest continued on as he gestured towards the individual standing at the back, near the archway. This person was none other than Ekko as he carried the rings atop their pillow towards the bride and groom.  “Warwick and Qiyana have chosen to present rings to each other as a token of their promise before God and these witnesses. They are a visible sign of an inward bond which unites two hearts in endless love. Warwick and Qiyana, from this day forward, the two of you shall be one.”  Once there, Warwick took the much smaller of the golden bands as he held her left hand.  “Do you Warwick, give this ring to Qiyana, as a token of your love for her?”  “I do.”  “Qiyana, will you wear this ring as evidence of your love for Warwick?”  “I will~” He then slipped the ring onto her index finger.  Then Qiyana took the much larger band.  Because of the groom’s unique situation with his sheer size, a traditional ring couldn’t work comfortably. So a solution was devised revolving around a snapping mechanism that could secure the earring in a hole of his left ear that’d never healed.  “And do you Qiyana, give this ring to Warwick, as a token of your love for him?”  “I do~”  “Warwick, will you wear this ring as evidence of your love for Qiyana?”  “I will.” And so she snapped the ring into place in his ear.  Once his role was finished, Ekko placed the pillow under one arm and stepped to the side.  “Warwick and Qiyana have pledged their love for each other, and have expressed their commitment before God and before this gathering of friends and loved ones. They have given themselves completely to each other and declared it publicly by the giving and receiving of rings. Acting in the authority invested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit--what God has joined together let no man separate.  “Warwick, you may now kiss the bride, as it is with great joy that I present to you, Mr. and Mrs, Yun Tal.”

 And kiss they did.

[feel199x]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚apple of my eye ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X

gang member!han jisung, florist!reader, sort of band member!han jisung

masterlist

a/n: hey there! i did my best to incorporate the proper meanings of the flowers, but i apologize if i got anything wrong. this was a bit longer than i intended! i hope you enjoy, and like dance the night away and to protect our district, this will also be a series. if you’re curious, the meaning of the flowers are at the end! ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ also i made minho super sassy but i lov him i promise!!

warnings: angst? 

You loved your flower shop, it meant everything to you. Granted, it was on the smaller side, but she was your pride and joy. It had been a year since you moved countries, and Korea still surprised you. Even though you were on the quieter side of the city, it could get overwhelming. But not in your flower shop, the world was quiet here. You were admiring the hibiscus’* that you were arranging into a bundle an elderly lady had requested. She was ordered to pick them up about an hour from now, and you’d hope she’d be pleased with the arrangement. Much to your distaste, flower shops weren’t all that popular anymore. The making of flower bundles with meanings was a dying art. But nonetheless, you adored it. The smell and delicate nature of flowers gave you comfort, especially when you had first moved here. Quite enamored in your own thoughts, you almost didn’t notice the bell chiming of a new customer. 

“Can I be of any help?” you called out into the store, putting the vase with the finished hibiscus bundle on the counter. Much to your surprised, a boy only a bit older than you walked up to the counter. He held his hands together nervously, his tanned face looking down. “Hey,” you spoke again, “Are these for your grandmother?” He looked up immediately, and nodded. “Yes!” he responded, “How did you know?” You dragged your fingers across the counter to the cashier. “Just a hunch,” you said shyly. He handed you the money and wrapped his hands tightly around the vase. “Thank you.”

“Come again!”

You didn’t think too much of the encounter, mostly because you didn’t want to get your hopes up and expect to see him again. But as you got your shop ready for another new day, opening the blinds and letting the sun come in and shine on your various flowers. As you propped open the door, you noticed someone waiting outside.

The boy from yesterday.

“Ah,��� you paused, “Do you need something?” He smiled and his cheeks curved out cutely, as he held out a plate of sweets, covered in saran wrap. “My grandmother wanted me to bring these to you,” he explained, “To thank you for the flowers. She said they were one of the best arrangements she’d ever ordered.” You rubbed your hands nervously. “Thank you,” you grabbed the platter, “Do you want to come in? I could get you something to drink?” He followed you inside, back to the counter as you pulled up a stool for him to sit on.

You returned with some tea when you noticed he was up and touching the arrangements that sat behind your counter. “They’re pretty,” he commented, “But aren’t you a bit young to own a flower shop?” You put the teapot and the cups down, walking over to stand by his side. “I still study,” you explained, “But I moved here as soon as I was of age, and opened up my shop.”  You rubbed one of the petals softly. Noticing you were getting carried away, you turned your attention away from the flowers and to the boy standing next to you. You caught his eye from a moment and you both turned to the platter of sweets. “You never told me your name,” he said, “My name is Han Jisung.” You smiled. “It’s ___,” you told him, “It’s also in the name of the shop.” He looked over as he finished putting food in his mouth, furrowing his eyebrows. You laughed at how his cheeks bulged out like a squirrel.

 “What?” he asked. You put your hands up to surrender, waving a white flag. “You just looked cute,” you said, “Like a squirrel.” He whined, “Please don’t. I’ve heard that more than a squirrel has.” The store’s bell chimed and another boy came in, shouting Jisung’s name. He shot you an apologetic look as the boy came up to the register. “We’re late Jisung,” he scolded, “Your grandmother said you would be here. Since when did you like flowers?”

“I was just dropping off the sweets she asked me to.”

You stood there awkwardly, listening to the conversation between the two close friends. “Would you like some?” You asked, offering him a the platter of pastries and tea that sat idly on the counter. “I’m sorry that Jisung’s such a pain,” he winked and grabbed a scone, “I’m Minho.” You nodded. “____,” you told him. He grabbed Jisung’s hand and pulled him to the opposite side. “Thank you for the pastries,” Minho said, “but we have places to be.” Jisung waved politely as he was ushered out the door. You smiled to yourself, taking the rest of the saran wrap off of the platter and leaving it open to the customers that would’ve wandered in that day. You returned back to your usual business, today, you were arranging a make-up bundle. You knew this because it was a request for three dozen roses and baby’s breath, to be put in an elegant ceramic vase, and wrapped in red and white- for unity. The truth was, the guy who came in didn’t ask for all of that- what he had asked for was a huge apologetic gesture, something with roses- like in the movies.

It was almost the end of the work day, when Jisung walked in through the door. You were out in the back of the shop this time, maintaining some Astilbies* that you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in any arrangement yet. You had some music playing from a speaker, sitting on a stool nearby, so you hadn’t heard him come in. And when you had, it was only after you had hosed him with water thinking it was a robber. But in your defense, he had spooked you.

“I’m so sorry,” you rambled, “I thought you were going to rob my store-” He just laughed loudly. “It’s not a big deal,” he comforted, “Do you have a towel.” You nodded, motioning him to follow you. You clambered your way up the stairs into your apartment to grab a towel for the poor boy when you noticed he was looking over the large bundle of roses. “He must’ve messed up big time, huh?” Jisung asked, taking the offered towel, sitting on your stool. “What do you think he did?”

“Cheated on a wife probably,” you answered, thinking about how disheveled the man had been when he walked in, “He had a ring on his hand.” He nodded as put the roses on the shelf with the rest of the ready arrangements. “Are you here for the platter?” you asked, handing him the silver platter you had cleaned and brought down with the towels. He made an ‘O’ with his face. “Thank you for remembering,” he said, “I almost forgot.” He patted sadly at his still wet-shirt and looked up. “I don’t think it’s going to dry anytime soon.” You bit your lip. “I could,” you stammered, “I could wash them? But that might take longer than you going home, but I understand if you think it’s weird or-”

“Please,” he begged, “I don’t want to get on the bus to my grandmother’s all wet.” You nodded. “You can just head upstairs,” you explained, “I need to close the shop.” Your heart was beating, you were just trying to be trying to be polite- but weren’t totally sure of the implications you had made. You slowly made your way up the stairs, begging the stars that this wouldn’t take a weird turn, and thankfully it hadn’t. Jisung was standing in the middle of your apartment, which seemed to be filled with more greenery than the actual flower shop. “You really love your plants, huh?” he murmured, “Did you always want to be a florist?” You pulled a large shirt and sweatpants out of your and handed them to him. “Surprisingly, yes,” you answered, “But what about you? What do you do?” You led him to the bathroom and he shouted his answer from inside. “I do lots,” he said, “I’m in a band.” He handed you the folded wet clothes and you put them in your dryer. “Is it popular?” 

He grinned, “We’re doing pretty good.” You both stood in the middle of the hallway in silence for a moment. “You must be pretty amazing  with your words then,” you mentioned and he nodded, “Is Minho in your band?” He leaned against the wall. “Yeah!” He answered with a shine in his eyes as he talked about his music. You admired his passion as he talked on and on about what he and his band did.

The dryer beeped to signal it’s finish, interrupting the cute boy’s monologue. And you lead him back down to the flower shop’s entrance, but not before he stopped to look at the large amount of roses in the ceramic vase.

“Does every part of this arrangement have a meaning?”

You nodded in response. Red roses mean true love, the baby’s breath means long lasting love and the innocence in that unity,” you continued, “The red and white silk represent unity.”

“And do all flowers and stuff have meaning?”

“All of them.”

You hadn’t seen Jisung for a while now, ever since an incident during movie night. You had become close these past few months, and Jisung spent nearly all his free time with you. You were worried, but of course, there wasn’t much you could do.

However, one day you began to receive pressed flowers in short admiration letters. It took you by surprise the first time, so much so that you nearly dropped the letter. Your cheeks heated up as you looked around, looking for anyone who was standing idly nearby. But there wasn’t anyone. The first letter, or rather, note had several pressed gloxinia- the flower that represented love at first sight, and said: your flowers are almost as pretty as you.

As cheesy and tooth-achingly sweet as it was, it made you smile. This continued for a few more weeks, before Jisung happened to stop by. He sat on the counter and swung his legs. He filled you on everything that had been going on in the past four months, and shared every possible detail. “What about you?” He asked, “Anything new?” You shrugged, putting some red Hyacinths* in another arrangement for his grandmother. “Not really,” you answered, “I’ve been getting letters in the mail.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he pushed, “What kind of letters.” You tilted your head as you thought. “Well, I wouldn’t call them love letters,” you said, “I think they’re more like, crush letters.” He nodded, avoiding your gaze. “Yesterday,” you added, “I got a white Camellia. It’s like saying someone’s adorable.”

“Who do you think it is?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, adding red carnations* to the bundle.

“I have no idea.”

You finished his grandmother’s bundle and handed him the bouquet. “You should stop by more,” you said quietly, “I’ve been missing you.” He made an ‘O’ face and turned so you couldn’t see his face heat up in embarrassment. “Sure,” he said, “No, yeah, definitely.”

The truth was, ever since you moved to Korea, you had been to scared to make new friends your age. Although you were quite popular with your customers, and the older folks that lived and had shops near your own- something about going out to public spaces made you nervous. But one day, Jisung came by your store. And in the midst of your usual banter, well, more like him yelling about his bandmates and music he asked you. “You should come out with me tonight,” he said, “We’re all meeting up to celebrate our album. You aren’t busy right?” You bit your lip, running your hand along the stem of an iris*. “I don’t know sungie,” he said, “Events like those make me nervous.” He grabbed your hand delicately. “I’ll be there with you,” he comforted, “Go get ready. I’ll close up shop.”

About half an hour later, Jisung was sprawled out on your couch, eating snacks from your cupboard and scribbling quickly in his songwriting notebook. “What are you writing?” you asked, plopping yourself next to him. “It’s a love song,” he said quickly, “Are you ready? We need to catch the bus.”

You would never outwardly say it, but you admired Jisung- you might’ve even had a slight crush on him. The sunset’s rays complimented his skin well as he dragged you to the bus stop. He was dressed as his usual self, but something was different when he held your hand tonight. He looked less like just a friend, and more like someone you could see yourself with.Your heart was beating, and your face felt like it was burning- like if you had a fever.  As you sat on the bus, he lend you one of the earpieces of headphones so you could both listen to the song his band was working on.

You stared at his side profile as he explained the meaning behind this particular song, your heart about to burst through your chest as you sat in admiration of his passion. The bus driver called out your stop name, and Jisung had to bring you back down from cloud nine.  “___!” he yelled, “We’re gonna miss our stop.” You apologized to the bus driver as you got off, Jisung pulling your arm to wherever they were going to meet. As you approached what seemed to be a karaoke bar, you noticed Minho and a group of boys standing outside the bar. “Hey, you’re ___,” Minho said, “The florist?” You nodded, saying a general hello to the group of boys. “Jisung,” a bandmate named Woojin scolded, “Aren’t you going to introduce her?” “But I already-” Woojin gave him a look and Jisung sighed. “Guys this is ___,” he explained, “___, this is Woojin, Chan, and surprisingly Felix, who isn’t late for once.” Felix opened his mouth to say something but closed it, opting to give a sad dab instead. “We’re sorry for the delay,” Chan added, “the rest of the boys are usually better about time.”

You held up your hands. “It’s alright.” A moment of silence passed before Chan engaged in some conversation. “So you’re a florist, right?” You nodded.

“Can you tell me what flowers I need to get that say “I want to un-adopt seven children’?”

You laughed. A smile stretching across your bright face as you started to relax a bit. “Well,” you explained,” a striped carnation symbolizes refusal and rejection, and hydrangeas are just the flower version of ‘screw you.’ if you come by, I can even make you a passive aggressive not to put in the bouquet.” This elicited a couple of hey!s from Felix and Jisung. Minho shrugged away the playful rejection. “Hey ___,” you turned to Minho and Jisung began to glare at him, while Minho just smirked, “What flower stands for ‘I’m completely and hopelessly devoted to you but I can’t tell you because I only have one brain cell?’” You furrowed your eyebrows and thought for a moment. “I don’t think there’s one single flower for that,” you added, “But a germanium symbolizes stupidity and a red camellia means you’re a fire in one’s loins.” You looked back at him. “Why?” you thought out loud, “Do you have a crush?” He clutched his shirt and reached for Jisung. “Of course not,” he exclaimed, “Jisung is the only one for me.” You laughed again, and nudged your friend. “When’s the wedding?” you teased, “I can make your arrangements.”

Jisung stuck his tongue out at the both of you and pulled you inside the karaoke bar, not caring that the boys had yet to arrive. But once the group had settled in, the rest of the boys arrived into the room. You learned that their names were Seungmin, Jeongin, and Changbin came in, apologizing for their late arrival. They all greeted you kindly, and everyone made sure that you were comfortable.

But, as the night grew older, you grew more and more anxious- a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. But you ignored it, opting to listen to Woojin serenade the group for the ninth time that night, and after that, all the boys agreed that it was indeed time to go home. Most of them using you and Jeongin’s age as an excuse, but the both of you knew better. You bid your farewell to the boys and Jisung insisted on taking you home. You didn’t fight him, because you knew this wasn’t an argument you could win. The bus ride home was quiet, as you fell asleep on Jisung’s shoulder. You woke up suddenly, and you swore you caught Jisung’s eye looking fondly at you. But as you rubbed your eyes, you found that you had approached your stop. He took your hand again, and together you walked back to the shop.

For some reason, your heart was accelerating- and at first you though it was because once again, Jisung was holding onto your hand tightly. But as you found yourself in front of your flower shop, or rather, it’s remains. The glass windows were shattered, large pieces of glass littering the street and the inside of your store. Your flowers were trampled, and thrown all over the place- an incredibly catastrophic mess. As you made your way through the broken glass door that lay wide open, you found your vases and the arrangements all over the floor and the money, the money you had worked so hard to make. Everything you had done all by yourself, gone. Jisung was in front of you, holding your hand as the both of you hesitantly made your way up the stairs into your apartment. Your apartment was also trashed, and all the valuables you had brought from your native country- gone. That’s when you broke, flopping down to your knees and letting out harsh ugly sobs to mourn the wasted work you’ve done. Jisung cradled you as you heaved and let out stuttered breaths. “We should go,” Jisung whispered soothingly, “You can stay at my grandma’s.”

 But before you left, you noticed a monkshood* flower upon your vanity.

                           *･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

a/n: here are the meanings of the flowers used in scenes! 

hibiscus: personal glory, fame, beauty

astilbies: ‘i’ll wait for you’, patience in love

red hyacinth: playfulness

red carnation: my heart aches for you, admiration

iris:  your friendship means so much to me

monkshood: beware, a deadly foe is near

[sol-korolevas]

last one standing;

you never realized how human the androids looked. not until you walk amongst their carcasses that littered the vacant detroit streets. 

each step forward pulls a sharp pain down your body. the wounds that covered your legs and torso are beginning to bleed profusely. a horrid sound like a boom echo in the background. 

the last of the android resistance has been destroyed. 

you gasp and flinch as the vibration rolls through your body, amplifying each pain. it isn’t until you notice a pile of android bodies that you stop, eyes lingering on one particular shape. 

“c-con–connor!” you cry out, heart lurching with shock. there he is, lying against the crippled bodies of deactivated androids. a large chunk of his body has been ripped out, revealing the blue wires stained in blood, his blood. his left leg is missing, torn out by some brutal force. 

though half-dazed and half-crazed by pain and trauma, you manage to press forth. finally, you turn around and lower yourself to the ground beside connor, whose indicator is blinking a furious red. 

he turns to you, movement stiff and slow. you don’t have to see the missing pieces and the blue blood to know what’s wrong with him. 

“(name), why are you here?” disbelief clouds his voice as he threads his fingers together with yours. there is no heat in his touch, only a barren coldness. 

squeezing your eyes shut, you lean back into the pile of limbs. “for you asshole.” your voice is soft as you taste blood in your mouth. you’re certain that you’re dying and there’s nothing you can do. no one to call, no one to come and rescue you. 

at least you have connor and that’s enough. 

but it doesn’t feel like him. an android dying is different than a human dying. in you, there is flickering life. in him it’s almost nothing - just a husk stripped of what makes it feel human. 

“my systems are failing, i assess that i will deactiva–”

“shut up, please,” you harshly cut him off, mind reeling with newfound terror and panic. if he dies, if the one android you cared for dies, then what will you do? “connor, listen to me, you won’t die. not by yourself, not alone.”

his grip on your hand tightens. you turn your face and see an agonizingly emotionless look on him. perhaps, he’s feeling many things, but his body’s limitations and its damage prevented him from expressing it. 

you suddenly feel sorrow for him. if only connor was born a human then this wouldn’t have happened. 

someone takes in a shuddering breath but you aren’t sure if it was you or him. 

slowly you reach over into your pocket and take out connor’s beanie hat. you’ve worn it to tease him but now it feels almost sentimental. 

you slip it on and, for the first time, feel a warmth. 

“you still look very beautiful, (name),” connor suddenly says. you hear the static edge in his voice. you’ve heard it before in malfunctioning androids. immediately your heart seizes in pain, both emotional and physical. 

you lack the energy to respond back as you lean your head against his shoulder. even now, connor feels like a pillar of support for you. he may not feel alive anymore but he’s still your connor. 

“if you deactivate, i’ll go with you too,” you say quietly. “i love you.”

“i think the expression of love at this time is sorrowful, don’t you agree?” connor’s voice is soft and soothing, but to you, it feels anything but. 

the cracks in your heart grow longer as you swallow his words. you don’t want to respond to that question of his because you don’t know how to. if he had said it before, you would get angry. 

now, it feels like a reminder of the bleak future ahead. 

“i’m sorry (name).” 

you dip your head down, vision suddenly faltering. “for what?” 

“for failing you. i wanted to keep you safe, i–” he suddenly stops and you look up to see connor’s eyes staring ahead. 

you follow his gaze and see two soldiers walking toward you. they are coming to destroy all remaining androids.  

“two deviants, we will have them neutralized,” one of them says. 

your heart beats wildly as you listen, realizing that they think you are an android as well. yet, you couldn’t speak as you watch them cock their guns at you and connor. 

all you feel is the haze of fear and hatred. 

“connor, don’t let me go,” you manage to force out a whisper, so soft that you barely hear it over the soldiers’ heavy footsteps. “i lov-”

you stop as you feel something change in the air. there is a silence all of a sudden. so abrupt is it that you turn your gaze to see connor’s face. 

it’s blank. the glint in his eyes is gone. 

the soldiers say something and you see from the corner of your eyes that one of them has their gun pointed to you. 

connor’s hand is still holding yours, tight and secure. 

your lips tremble as resignation dulls your senses and emotions. 

[level247-table-tech]

as mentioned, these are hella long, and hella unedited, and i wrote them like a year ago.

sometimes, traits fall outta favour.

more often during years one might call ‘formative’, but things continue happening after that, and sometimes people change.

of course their sides change too. they might split, they might merge, they might coalesce, they might just fade away. not everybody has the same sides, as is ordinary when not every person has the same personality.

some have traits that simply aren’t so prominent. thomas’ deceit was decidedly not well-known or active much, and in honesty, nobody wanted him around much.

which was understandable. lying to other people isn’t something one should have as a side to themself, nor make a habit of.

but lying to other people isn’t all deceit handled for thomas. concerning himself with self-preservation and thomas’ own happiness, he monitored lies to himself the same way. there were a few. that was the main thing deceit occupied himself with.

but change was coming. thomas was getting into self-examination these days. trying to change his lifestyle, for the better… couldn’t be blamed.

this led thomas and the other sides to go examining their feelings, and looking at the lies they told themself- that too was nothing to be faulted for! thomas was trying to change… make less lies.

maybe sometimes, lying would be the right thing to do in the future. but lying is only an action. it doesn’t need to be deceit, when it isn’t long-term denial…

stop dancing around the matter, let’s be truthful for once.

with everyone opening up and finally working past those hidden things, it left things like deceit rather pointless. no doubt about it, there would very soon be no need for deceit. which left three choices.

number one: give up. fade away. accept being better off as only formless thoughts that only ever pop up to be silenced. virgil can handle matters of self-preservation, or preservation of others for that matter. he’s less self-absorbed like that.

number two: force his influence. bury all the newfound positivity back down, burn it all, start again. this is terrible. the only reason to do it would be to continue lying. it wouldn’t even help thomas, and the sudden absence of positivity, the amount of blocking brightness it would take would be downright delusional. even depressive.

not an option.

number two

number three: change. represent something other than lying. the flaws are so obvious. the difficulty, the differentness. who knows if anything else would even stick. and if he changed, who knows if he would even be at all the same? most of what deceit can call his own has to do with his current trait. he doesn’t have a lot of separate interests, he doesn’t have a separate name. even the way he likes to dress looks villainous and shadowy. his face itself surely needs nothing to be said.

there are so many reasons option #3 is insane. so many problems with changing, when all he has is symbols of falsehood. he could end up uncomfortable with the new de-

the new whatever trait.

dying down and staying asleep forever would be so much easier.

any other options?

if there’s change, he could merge with someone. of course, who knows if that would take. merging someone with pure lies? even if it stuck, whatever came out of such a fusion wouldn’t be either of them.

and let’s be real. thinking through this many options? deceit clearly wants to stay. it’s the only reason he’d be thinking about this so much, trying to find more options. he doesn’t want to stop being anything, and it’s so like him, isn’t it? self-preservation- for all of his selves. for thomas, and for himself too it seems.

option number three it is. if it fails, though, well. no one needs enough deceit to form a side. he’ll go.

where to start…

(end of chapter one)

he tries.

very, very hard.

the first step, he decides, is to stop being the way he is. which is reasonable if he’s trying to change.

he makes a normal face. lighter clothes, more yellow, less black. hangs his hat, his cape, ignores the cold.

it takes more effort than he would have wished, but he didn’t expect it to be easy.

not being a hidden person, he has to go downstairs and talk to people. of course. he has to walk down the stairs in a yellow t-shirt, and he hopes he doesn’t look disgusted or sound mocking when he speaks honest words for the first time in… since he slipped up, probably. when was that…

everyone actually seems kind of hard-pressed to recognize him- even virgil, though that could be because he has never, ever tried so hard to act exactly wrong. impersonations notwithstanding, and even then he usually had something enough in common, to ease the trouble of acting so different.

everyone was only so accepting of another among their number, it seems, while half-asleep and without caffeine. he’s given questions as soon as anyone has the acuity to ask. name. trait. new? all along the same lines. no one actually recognizes him, hard as they try. fortunate.

he responds mainly along the lines of not knowing the answers to any of what they say, and on the inside he’s half cursing himself for lying more, and half defending himself by saying they aren’t going to be deceit anymore, and don’t know what to do next. actually, not knowing could easily be a problem. what did he know when he came into being, is any of this even realistic? he never chose a name, but.

oh, they’re talking. he’s gonna have to get used to being social, if he wants to really be different. is it still too late to go back and fade away instead? he tries to listen to what’s happening outside, and keep it all in mind. when a response is needed, he doesn’t lie. it takes some effort. lying isn’t quite automatic, but when he has to think about an answer, resisting the impulse is necessary. everyone’s talking. it honestly is hard to keep track of. looking at them, though, nobody seems really suspicious? it’s hard to tell in the case of logan, but virgil isn’t paying attention to him in favour of his phone, which is probably for the best.

deceit really should be more attentive. and figure out what trait he is. how does he do that…

they’re looking to him for an answer now. fuck. what was the question. he waits a couple seconds hoping whatever it was will come to him, then answers. “Uh… no?”

patton giggles. “Then why are you wearing so much of it?”

“Uhhhhhh…” what was the question?

“Apologies if we’re overwhelming you with questions. We can figure more out later. For now, however, do you know who we are?” thank you!

yes. “No.”

“I am Logan, Thomas’ logical side. Roman is the princely side in the crown pajamas, and Virgil is the side wearing the black hoodie. And this-”

“My name is Patton, moral side and feelings central. But you can call me Dad! And if you’re not too keen on yellow, what colors do you like?”

“Oh uh- I do like yellow? Also, um, orange.” and green, but that might be too deceit-like.

“Thought you might. Anyways, welcome to the Thomas Sanders household! Mindhold? There are a few other sides, but they aren’t around so much.”

“Do you think I’ll meet them?” that one was an honest question. other dark sides might recognize him better, but he wasn’t keeping them in the dark now. he couldn’t tell when they were out.

“Almost definitely, eventually, but I wouldn’t say soon!” thank you for that helpful answer patton. thanks a bunch. very informative. …he said that aloud. “Oh. Sorry kiddo. I just don’t know.”

…this is already going swimmingly. he upset patton. counterproductive combined with the fact he now feels like scum, deceit winces. got to keep a tighter lid on the train of thought, new kid. he resolves to make certain that he has an excuse for knowing everything. “So who are those other sides?”

“The last one we saw was Deceit, no-name guy, exactly what he sounds like.”

logan speaks up, having returned to the table with a jar of Crofter’s. few things have ever seemed more appealing than trying it right now, but logan is talking. “He seems most likely to show up in the future, having revealed himself recently. He wears a capelet and gloves, has a bowler hat, and most recognizably has scales on the entire left side of his face, but if you see him, he might actually be disguised as someone else. One of us, most likely.” is he done? would he mind sharing the Crofter’s with a poor new side who’s never had it? that much is extremely true, in actuality, though it is sad.

…too much silence, gotta respond somehow, “Oh dear! What would he fool me into doing?” bad move, gotta change the subject away from his former persona… a former persona of a persona. existence is strange as ever, yep, and this particular abstraction isn’t making it any less complex.

logan continues speaking without looking up at him. “Go along with his plans to put Thomas above others. I can only assume that’s what he’s trying to accomplish, anyway.” like he ever had a chance to get any such thing accomplished.

“Oh, that’s not right! Thomas isn’t more important, he doesn’t…” he attempts to look distressed. of course other people are important. but it’s their job to help this person not hurt people, and honesty is painful sometimes.

“Glad we’re on the same page. If you see Deceit, he lies all the time. Nothing from him is true, don’t take it the wrong way.” untrue both technically and actually. but whatever.

end of chapter two. and the last of it.

i’m also gonna add the tags here. “ #the point is he's trying to change everything about himself #instead of realizing the things about himself that aren't linked to lying are in fact himself #and if he keeps lying about things he likes he will end up with only things he hates #he can make it. but he has to be 100% honest #which it won't occur to him to be yet! #i lov how outside dialogue the only thing capitalized is Crofter's “

in my drafts, i just use tags as notes to future me. i’m not even good at explaining things to myself, honestly, but he’d have to focus on the things that make him a person more than a job. but then completely rejecting the basis of what he was doing, self-preservation, wasn’t really going to be a change.

[tanadidreamer]

Mother Dear

Notes: Rhys and Kayla belong to the wonderful @outcastcommander. Warnings include blood and implied/referenced past child abuse.

Jax sighed as he slipped away from the camp and made his way towards the nearby river and huddled in his jacket a bit as he made his way, he just need time to think -- to be alone without the medics checking on him, or Jaster and Cedric questioning him, or Kayla.

“Finally!” Jax tensed as he heard the feminine voice speak, it carried a light Kuati accent and sounded almost bored. “I’ve been waiting to get you alone.”.

“What are you doing here, Vatari?” Jax snapped back as he turned to face the owner to find the woman leaning against a tree and actually smiling at him fondly which caused him to take a step back and go for one of the knives he had swiped from Tani.

“I’d watch the tone if I were you, I am still your mother.”  Vatari warned darkly which caused her son to glare at her resentfully and backed up a couple steps to give him a bit of a chance. Jax knew he was outmatched if she choose to attack.

Vatari let out a hum as she pushed herself off the tree and walked over towards him. “Stay away from me.” Jax snapped as she grabbed his wrist and twisted it, causing him to drop the knife as she gently brushed her free fingers against the bandages. “Get away!”.

“Conrad wasn’t joking when he said Tor did a number on you.” Vatari remarked as she smiled at him. “Does it hurt?”.

He knew she was there, he had seen her there so she would know. “What do you want, Vatari?”.

“Can’t I check on my baby?”.

“Sure, Pre’s with Tor, isn’t he?” Jax snipped back as he shoved her hand away.

“Fine, my special one.” Vatari corrected with an eye roll.

Jax was about to answer when he heard a snarl from within the shadows of the trees and a pair of bright blue eyes shining from within which caused his mother to let out an annoyed sigh and turn her head slightly towards the new arrival.

“Kayla, dear, how many times must I tell you that nobody understands you when you snarl like that?” Vatari asked as she turned to look at Kayla and kept a firm grip on Jax’s wrist.

“Let him go, right now.” Kayla snarled in response which caused Vatari to look down at Jax who glared right back at her then at Kayla and shoved Jax towards Kayla. “Jax.”.

Without much encouragement or words, Jax bolted away from his mother to join Kayla and partially hide behind her. “You know, Kayla, it’s your fault this happened.” Vatari leaned forward a bit to give Kayla a unimpressed look. “You filled his heads up with such ridiculous ideas and lies, then you left him all alone. He ended up getting to bold with his father, thus he had to be punished.”.

“No, that was you and Vizsla!” Kayla snapped back as she glared the older woman who raised an eyebrow at her. “You call this ‘punishment’? This was torture! Jax is your son! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?!”.

“Why do you think I’m here?” Vatari asked as she moved towards the pair, which caused Kayla to shove Jax behind her completely. “Enough pretending to be a True, Jax. They’ll never accept you, it’s time to come home. Quit acting like a child.”.

“You never did love me, did you?” Jax asked as his voice cracked at the thought of going home, memories bubbling up from what his father had done. No! No! Not home! That was never home! Kayla’s home! Clan Rau is home! Not Clan Vizsla!

“Of course I lov ---” Vatari began to say.

“Stop lying! You want me to go back there! I don’t want to go back!” Jax snapped as he huddled against Kayla who snarled. He wasn’t going back there!

“He’s staying here with me. Death Watch is done turning us into monsters.” Kayla told her which was emphasised by a blaster bolt flying only centimeters from Vatari’s head.

“And you’ve overstayed your welcome, Lok.” Another voice spoke, this one carrying a cultured accent and far more commanding. “You know the rules about Rau wards.”.

Vatari rolled her eyes again. “Sarna, we both know you won’t hurt me. A little aruetii like you really shouldn’t play with blasters.” Vatari winced as the next shot came a little too close for comfort. “Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”.

Without warning, Kayla marched forward and slugged Vatari straight in the face which caused the very audible crack of her nose being broken and for Vatari to stumble back. “Y’ ‘tle b’tch!” Vatari snarled as he moved to tackle Kayla and ignoring the blood.

“Rhys! Make yourself useful!” Sarna snapped as she moved to pull Jax away from the conflict and shoved him towards Rhys before turning her attention back the two other women.

Kayla dodged away from Vatari and stuck her foot out to trip the older assassin who fell against the tree. “You’re one to talk! I know you stood by and watched!” Kayla said as she aimed a kick at Vatari.

“Kayla, back off. Right now.” Sarna ordered as she leveled her blaster on Vatari while Kayla complied reluctantly . “As for you, go back to your precious master and tell him that if he so much as even blink in the direction of any ex-Death Watch warriors, he’ll have all of Clan Rau on him faster than a pack of dire cats on a dying prey.”.

“L’k ‘ll ‘o ‘at.” Vatari snapped back as she stood to stalk towards Sarna who scowled and held her ground, and glared at Vatari. “‘Ave no ‘dea why Conrad sw’ped ‘ou! A w’ak l’ttle pr’in’c’ss!”.

Jax tensed as he saw the look on Kayla’s face, he knew that look and winced as his mother screamed out in pain as Kayla bolted forward and tackled Vatari, biting down hard in a weak point on Vatari’s shoulder, between the armor plates that were there.

Jax felt Rhys tense a bit behind him and sensed both the shock and horror that came from the big idiot. “That’s why you don’t threaten what Kayla considers hers.” Jax said weakly as he watched the scene before them in shock, trying to block out Vatari’s pain.

“I will not repeat myself nor will I show the same tolerance as my husband. Leave.” Sarna ordered again as she kept her composure while Kayla stood and glared down at the assassin while wiping at her mouth. “Or I will let Kayla do as she wishes to you.”.

“F’ne, ‘ou c’n k’p h’m.” Vatari bit out as as she stood and glared at the pair before hateful blue eyes settled on him, Jax felt tears brim his good eye as his mother stared at him for a moment before her attention drifted back to the two women. “K’p ‘em o’tta Dea’ Watch buss’ness.”.

“Tick, tock.” Sarna stated coldly and gestured towards the injured shoulder, and slipped into a very mocking tone . “You may want to get that checked out, dear. I’ve heard Cathars have a rather nasty bite to them. It would be very unfortunate if you’re left partially paralyzed in that arm.”.”.

Vatari scowled as she backed up into the darkness.

Rhys watched as Kayla slowly turned her attention to the pair of shocked teens which sent a chill up Rhys’s spine as her feline eyes narrowed on Jax. “What did I tell you about wandering off, Jax?” Kayla demanded as she walked over to the poor kid, which caused him to stare at her. “Well?”.

“I’m sorry.” Jax muttered as he looked down and kicked the ground. “I...I j-just wanted time to think. Too much noise.”.

“Then you could’ve asked me or found Myles.” Kayla said as Jax hiccuped which caused Kayla’s glare to soften a bit as then walked over and slipped her hand under Jax’s chin, and tilted his head up to look at her

Hey, none that now. You’re safe, vod’ika.”.

“M-Mama, she……”.

“That bitch lost the right to be your mother after she stood by the first time.” Kayla corrected sternly as she brushed some of the tears away. “Next time, just come find me instead of wandering off, okay? You trust me don’t you?”.

Jax gave an eager nod before he hugged her, catching Kayla off guard which caused her to pet his hair affectionately. “W-What did I do wrong, Kayla?” Jax cried when caused Kayla to sigh and hug her adopted brother a bit more tightly.

“Nothing.” Rhys found himself saying before Kayla could say anything while he had recalled when they had found the kid and his behavior afterwards. He might’ve been Tor Vizsla’s son, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a victim too, everybody had known the story of Mandalore the Forsaken and it was sickening to know Vizsla had tried to turn his own kid into some dar’jetii.

Kayla eyed him warily as she let Jax go and stood back to her full height and gently pushed Jax behind her.

Sarna scowled at where Lok had disappeared before turning her attention to the teens. “We’re going back to the camp now, before that tramp comes back with reinforcements.” Sarna said as she slipped her blaster back into her holster and joined the group. “Kayla, take the lead.”.

Kayla nod slightly as she pushed past Rhys with Jax following behind like a little kitten while Rhys fell in step next to the Clan Rau matriarch. “I can’t believe Kayla actually bit Lok.” Rhys remarked in slight horror over the shared com system with Sarna.

“Considering her upbringing and what her Near-Human nature is, I’m surprised she didn’t do it sooner.” Sarna respond as they watched Kayla turn  slightly to check on her shadow. “Cathar are naturally protective of their clans, Rhys, even more so with cubs. Not all of Death Watch are psychotic dar’manda, some are victims just like we are.”.

“I should really apologize, shouldn’t I?”.

“You should.” Sarna stated thoughtfully as she tapped the side of helmet. “And I need to speak to Myles when we get back.”.

Rhys reached forward on instinct as Jax to grab the kid’s collar when Jax tripped on something and pulled him back to his balance. “Watch your feet, Jax.” Rhys warned.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, farmboy.” Jax snipped back then paused as Kayla snickered.

Oh, so the kid did have an attitude then!

[paladinsuho-moved]

I Feel It Still (Choi Seungcheol x Yoon Jeonghan)

summary:  it’s over; jeonghan is gone. but even then, seungcheol still hears his voice. what he doesn’t know is that is isn’t all in his head

ship: yoon jeonghan x choi seungcheol (jeongcheol)

genre: angst

warnings: death, language

word count: 3.6k

a/n: two things. one: i’m sorry for whatever this is??? and two: lol idk who rooms with who in the svt dorms so bear with me pls,, ALSO!!! this is dedicated to a friend who’s birthday is coming up soon so when she reads this, ily ;-;

MASTERLIST

DAY 1

“Hey, it’s Jeonghan. I can’t pick up right now because I’m probably practicing or something. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. You know what to do after the beep, guys. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

Beep.

He starts to cry as he hears his voice again. So soft and so sarcastic at the same time, a tone that only his Jeonghan could pull off.

“I’m sorry, Hannie. I’m sorry we weren’t fast enough to save you.”

DAY 4

Ring. ring. ring.

Ring. ring. ring.

The call goes to voicemail. Nowadays, it always does.

“Hey, it’s Jeonghan. I can’t pick up right now because I’m probably practicing or something. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. You know what to do after the beep, guys. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

Beep.

“Hey. It’s me again.”

Silence on the other line. Seungcheol sighs.

“It was raining today. I know, I know -- raining during a funeral? It’s so cliche. It sucked. Of course, everything sucks now that you’re gone, Hannie.”

No one answers. At this point, Seungcheol would lose his shit if someone did answer.

He hangs up a few seconds later when he starts to feel his throat tighten up. He swallowed down the lump forming quickly. He didn’t want to cry again. He was so tired of crying; he was tired of everything now. He throws the phone on the bed next to him, and lets his head fall into his hands.

He doesn’t want to look at the bed on the other side of the room. The bed that will most likely never be slept in again. It’s too painful of a reminder of all the hushed promises whispered in the dead of night, when the moon was the only source of light that let them see each other.

“Hyung?”

He looks up. Chan is standing in the doorway, looking solemn. “What’s going on, Chan?” He asks the younger boy, and Chan shakes his head. “I can come back later, it’s not that bad--”

“No, no,” Seungcheol insists, “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

Chan walks towards the bed, and Seungcheol pats the spot next to him in invitation. Chan sits down hesitantly, face stoic and unchanging. His hands rest in his lap, fiddling nervously with his fingers.

“I don’t wanna pile this on you… I know you probably miss hyung more than I do.”

Seungcheol smiles sadly, shaking his head. “It’s okay, Chan. Do you want to talk about it?”

Chan sits there for a moment, inhaling deeply and letting his eyes fall away from the older boy’s face. “It’s just,” Chan begins quietly, “I don’t… It’s so weird not being able to talk to him anymore. He was always there and he always knew how to listen, and he was so good to me, I just…”

Chan stops, and Seungcheol raises his arm to pat Chan’s back.

“I miss him calling me his baby, you know?” Chan says, blinking back tears. “It was so annoying when he was here, but now…” His voice cracks slightly, and his head falls.

“I would do anything to hear him call me that again. Anything, hyung.”

Seungcheol pulls him in for a hug, and that’s when Chan starts crying, like really crying. And fuck if that doesn’t break Seungcheol’s heart even more, but he’s a leader, first and foremost, now and always. He has to be there for Chan right now.

So he does what he always does. He closes his eyes and avoids the way his lips tremble. He takes a deep breath and rests his head on Chan’s, letting him know that he’s not alone, and won’t be for the rest of Seungcheol’s sorry life.

“Let it out, Channie. I got you.”

DAY 6

“Hey, it’s Jeonghan. I can’t pick up right now because I’m probably practicing or something. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. You know what to do after the beep, guys. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

Beep.

“They caught the guy, Jeonghan.”

He’s smiling through the tears. It’s late and everyone else is probably sleeping, but he doesn’t care. This is the first time he’s been alone in the past few days, and when they got the call earlier that night during dinner they all had to sit down and cry a little more.

Someone had found the car that had the corresponding license plate, and the owner wasn’t able to prove any alibis he had for that fateful night. He was arrested, and confessed to being drunk that night. He panicked when he hit Jeonghan, and ran. That was all they knew at the moment.

“It’s not fair,” Jihoon had muttered, “It doesn’t matter what sentence he gets, Jeonghan is gone, and it’s all his fault.”

“I don’t know what they’re going to do. I’m pretty sure Pledis is going to take him to court -- and if they don’t, then your parents definitely will. I just...”

He sighs and runs his free hand through his hair.

“We’re all going to have to testify if we do -- we were all there when it happened. I don’t want to know what it’s going to be like for them. Jisoo, Jihoon, Minghao -- They’ll be fine. B-but what about Chan? Hansol? Soonyoung? Seungkwan? They’re still not over it. No one is, really, but I think they’re the ones that are handling it the worst. I don’t want them to have to relive it.”

“I wish you were here, Hannie. Things would be so much easier if you were.”

He doesn’t remember hanging up or turning off the light. All he knows is that suddenly he’s asleep and he’s reliving the five seconds that changed the rest of his life for worse.

“Wait, wait. I think I left my jacket in the practice room. I’ll just be a minute or two.”

Seungcheol turns his head back to the others as Hansol turns to watch Jeonghan go. The sound of the car comes too fast for him to register what was going on, until he hears Hansol cry out a warning.

“Hyung, WAIT!”

He hears the sound of Jeonghan crying out, the sound of something crashing into something significantly smaller; the sound of everyone else’s laughter dying down as they all turn to see what happened.

He wakes up in tears the next morning, and is glad that his phone ran out of battery while he was asleep -- otherwise, he would’ve hit call again.

DAY 10

“Hey, it’s Jeonghan. I can’t pick up right now because I’m probably practicing or something. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. You know what to do after the beep, guys. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

Beep.

“It’s been more than a week since it happened. I could barely handle it now, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it for the rest of my life, Jeonghan.”

He clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes tight. Why does he keep doing this to himself? It’s not healthy. He lets out a small, cynical scoff, shaking his head to himself. “I can’t… I can’t keep doing this, Hannie. It’s not -- It’s not good for me. I need to accept it. You’re gone. You’re d--”

His words die in his mouth. He’s been saying that Jeonghan was ‘gone’ this entire time -- as if he were missing, as if there were a possibility that he could come back. As if one morning he’d wake up, and Jeonghan would be lying next to him, and he’d take him in his arms and whisper good morning, gorgeous, as he always would, and like clockwork, Jeonghan, his Yoon Jeonghan would naturally respond: good morning, Seungcheol.

But he has to say it. He has to realize that Jeonghan will never come back.

You cannot love someone back to life.

“You’re dead, Hannie. You’re dead and I have to get that through my thick head.”

DAY 15

“Hey, it’s Jeonghan. I can’t pick up right now because I’m probably practicing or something. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. You know what to do after the beep, guys. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

Beep.

“We had our first practice without you. I’m sorry. I feel like we’re betraying you, somehow. I know you’d want us to continue, though. I know you would. You always loved being there for the fans, and even when you couldn’t be there for carats, you’d always encourage us to go in your place.”

Silence, as usual.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was a disaster. Things were tense. Soonyoung kept messing up the routine -- Soonyoung messed up the choreography, can you imagine that? Seokmin almost punched our manager when he brought up who would sing your solos from now on. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that upset.”

He lies down and presses his palm to his forehead as if he were feeling for a fever. He stares up at the ceiling of his bedroom, blank as his mind at the moment.

“I don’t… I don’t think the group will last much longer if things keep up like this.”

DAY 22

He’s drunk that night when he decides to pick up the godforsaken phone.

“...You know what to do after the beep, guys. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

Beep.

“I hate you. So much.”

It’s quiet. He’s so tired of feeling like he’s talking to a wall -- he might as well be doing that. Either way, he knows he’ll never get a response.

Which is why he doesn’t know who his ‘I hate you’ is directed to. Himself, for not wanting to accept Jeonghan’s death and moving on? The silence, for trying to rub it in his face?

“You left us. You’re gone and I fucking -- I feel like I’m going out of my goddamn mind!”

Even in his drunken stupor, he knows he should calm down, lest he want to wake someone up, be it Jihoon or Jisoo in the room on the right of his own or Minghao and Wonwoo in the room to the left. He sighs and swallows the spit gathering in his mouth. He’s never been a lightweight, but he drank too much and he can feel his stomach beginning to churn.

“I hear you sometimes,” He mutters finally. “It’s like you’re calling me. ‘Cheol, Cheol!’ I hear it. Hell, sometimes I think I feel it. Feel you.”

He brings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “I miss you, Jeonghan. So much. I miss you… Almost as much as I lov--”

He has to hang up then and there, because he can feel the bile rising in his throat.

DAY 30

“...You know what to do after the beep, guys. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

Beep.

“God, I miss you.”

He has to bite back his lip to avoid crying again. He takes a deep breath and steels his outer expression. “Jisoo and I got into an argument today. It wasn’t pretty.”

He sighs, lifting his feet to cross them on the bed, and shakes his head. “Sometimes,” He says after a while, “I think you were the glue, holding us all together. B-because now that you’re gone… All we do nowadays is argue, Hannie. It’s so fucking hard, I--”

“Seungcheol?” A voice behind him asks, and Seungcheol nearly goes into cardiac arrest, hanging up and nearly throwing his phone across the bed, turning his head less than a second later.

In the doorway stands Jisoo, looking at him with an expression somewhere between disappointment and sadness. Pity, Seungcheol realizes a second later, and the anger he’d been feeling when they’d argued returns, just not as strong.

“What do you want, Jisoo?” He asks, and Jisoo raises an eyebrow. “Seungcheol, we need to talk.”

Seungcheol’s walls instantly come up. Let Jisoo come at them, Seungcheol thinks; he’ll simply ricochet. Jisoo notices this, and sighs, shaking his head.

“Don’t give me that look. I heard you talking right now. Talking to… to Jeonghan.”

Apparently, Seungcheol thought wrong. He hears those last words and his face falls as he remembers the argument.

They were so close to comeback when Jeonghan died. Jisoo wanted to continue on, let people remember Jeonghan by using this comeback as an opportunity to honor his memory.

Seungcheol disagreed. It was so emotionally draining for him, for everyone to be rehearsing something when one of them was gone. There was, naturally, a void left where Jeonghan had been.

“Can’t you see that?” He’d asked Jisoo. “Don’t you feel the exact same way?”

“Of course I do!” Jisoo had answered. “But if we don’t do this now, people will forget it happened. They’ll forget him. I definitely don’t want that to happen.”

“You think I want that to happen!?”

“You always wanted him to yourself, Seungcheol! Even now! What, you don’t think Jihoon and I hear you at night on your phone, talking to him as if he was still alive?”

Seokmin and Jun tried to hold him back, but that was when Seungcheol snapped. He rushed forward, grabbing Jisoo by the collar and looking him straight in the eye. He didn’t know what had come over him, just like he didn’t know what had come over Jisoo to make him this illogical.

“Don’t you ever,” Seungcheol said, ignoring the way his chest ached when Jisoo’s eyes went wide, thinking his friend would hit him, “Talk to me like that again. Do you fucking understand?”

He was pushed off a second later by Wonwoo, and before anyone could say anything else, Seungcheol had stormed out of the room, leaving the commotion behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Jisoo says, looking down. “I-it’s late, I shouldn’t have--”

“It’s okay, Jisoo,” Seungcheol replies, “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I-I was way too harsh on you, I almost hit you, for fuck’s sake--”

“But I shouldn’t have said that thing about you and Jeonghan in the first place,” Jisoo interrupts him this time, and he’s silent for a moment.

“You loved him, didn’t you?” Jisoo’s voice is quiet, non-accusatory; he’s simply stating the obvious.

“More than anything.” What’s the point of lying? The other boy can see right through him, he always could read him like an open book.

“And he loved you. In ways that the rest of us can’t understand.”

Seungcheol nods, and feels his eyes close of their own accord. When they open a few seconds later, they’re fresh with tears. He hastily begins blinking them back, and Jisoo takes this as his cue to close the door as he steps inside, making his way over to Seungcheol’s bed in three quick strides.

Seungcheol buries his face in his hands, and Jisoo sits, pulling him into a hug.

“I should never have said what I said today,” Jisoo mutters, more to himself than to Seungcheol.

Grief manifests in many ways; the phone calls were just Seungcheol’s way of expressing it.

They stay that way for a few hours, and when Hansol finds them basically spooning each other in their sleep in the morning,  he decides to leave them be.

DAY 37

It’s late after practice; it ended around two in the morning, he’s so exhausted he doesn’t remember hearing the call go to voicemail.

“I miss you,” He mutters for what feels like the fifth hundredth time, calling out to the void. He can feel himself beginning to nod off but he refuses to fall asleep, he has to finish this.

“I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about how it was raining on the day of your funeral, Hannie.” He rubs his eyes, clenching his jaw. “At the very least, you deserved a beautiful day.”

“Thank you, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol’s eyes snap open. There’s no way he just heard that voice. He has to be going insane. But then…

The voice is too clear for him to believe it was just some kind of auditory hallucination. He realizes with a chill that he didn’t nod off during the voicemail message, because he didn’t realize that someone had actually picked up. His heart, after stopping for a second begins to pump at full speed, because the voice is Jeonghan’s, it’s his Yoon Jeonghan’s voice that’s speaking to him, goddammit, he knows it.

“H-Hannie?”

On the other line, he hears a soft chuckle that could only be described as Jeonghan; he shakes his head because his mind is screaming this isn’t right but his heart is screaming, why should I care? it’s Jeonghan, it’s Jeonghan, it’sJeonghanJeonghanJeonghanJeonghan--

“Hi, Cheol.” The dead boy’s voice is as quiet as ever, and he can hear the warmth, he can see the smile on his face, that beautiful face.

“H-how did you…?”

“I wish I could tell you, Cheollie. But, I’m just as confused as you are.”

Seungcheol puts a hand over his mouth to keep from sobbing, trying to wrap his head around what’s going on.

“Did you hear me before?” He asks finally, deep voice shaking, “Every other time I called?”

“Every single time, Seungcheol,” He answers, and that’s when Seungcheol feels a tear falls down his cheek. “I tried to answer every single time, but you never heard. But I listened, Cheollie. I heard every single word.”

Seungcheol begins to cry even harder, bringing his knees up to his chest, curling in on himself. “I love you so much, Hannie.”

“I love you more, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol lies down on the bed. “Are you at peace, at least?” He asks a moment later, and Jeonghan takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t feel like I am. I feel… I feel out of place. I don’t know how to describe it.”

Seungcheol purses his lips at that. Jeonghan deserved to be at peace, if he wasn’t. He’s about to say so when the other boy begins to speak again.

“You sound tired, Cheol.” Jeonghan sounds sad, the kind of sad where he never wants to talk about it, no matter how much Seungcheol pushes. Seungcheol nods, confirming his boyfriend’s accusation with a soft hum.

“Sing me a song, Hannie… please. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep since you left.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan murmurs, “Lie down, and I’ll sing you a song.”

Seungcheol does what he says, and Jeonghan begins to sing a song, quiet and calm. He’d never heard it before, but he hears Jeonghan sing about eternal love, about a meadow filled with flowers where people can be at peace with the ones they love, forever. And so Seungcheol falls asleep with a melancholy smile on his face, wishing he could hold the dead boy singing to him one last time.

The morning comes, sunlight streaming through the windows. Seungcheol stretches for a few moments, before realizing what had happened the night before, and he shoots up in his bed. He looks around for the phone, which, amidst his tossing and turning in the bed, had fallen on the floor.

With trembling hands he practically pounces on it, picking it up. In his haste and with his shaking hands he messes up the first time he tries to unlock it. After another try he manages to unlock the phone, and doesn’t hesitate on going to the call log to see how long the call lasted.

CALL LOG

Hansol, yesterday: 11:06 AM - 11:07 AM

Mom, two days ago: 3:45 PM - 3:56 PM

Jihoon, two days ago: 12:33 PM - 12:35 PM

Seungcheol thinks for a second, feeling his breathing begin to speed up as he frantically scrolls further down, looking for the last time he called Jeonghan’s number.

Hannie, last week: missed call.

That’s not possible. He called the number last night. The possibility of it having been a dream springs into his mind; but it was too vivid for it to have been a dream.

Swallowing down the lump, he taps on Jeonghan’s number and presses the call button one last time.

It rings once, before picking up, and Seungcheol sighs in relief. But then, the voice speaking isn’t Jeonghan’s.

“We’re very sorry. The number you are trying to reach either does not exist or has been disconnected. Please verify the number you are dialling is correct--”

Seungcheol hangs up, not believing what he’s hearing.

“I’m sorry, Seungcheol.” He turns around at the sound of Jisoo’s voice, to see the other boy staring at him sadly in the doorway.

“Y-you--”

“I asked the managers to do it. I’m so sorry, Cheol. It wasn’t… It wasn’t doing you any good.”

“N-No, but he talked to me last n--”

“He’s dead, Seungcheol. Filling his voicemail won’t bring him back to life.”

Jisoo leaves with one last sad look, and Seungcheol is left alone, again. Jisoo is right, he realizes; it wasn’t doing him any good, and no matter what he did Jeonghan would never come back. He needs to accept that, once and for all.

So, still trembling, he unlocks his phone again, the screen lighting up to show Jeonghan’s contact number. He purses his lips as he taps on the options icon, and hesitates for a moment when he sees the delete contact option. He has to do it. But is he ready to let go?

He inhales slowly, and taps the option.

Delete contact: Hannie. Are you sure?

With a trembling breath, he taps yes.

He closes his eyes once it’s over, and realizes he feels as if a small weight off his shoulders has been lifted.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s just his imagination, but as he exhales softly, he feels someone else do the same, and with closed eyes he hears that voice whisper to him one last time.

Thank you, Seungcheol.

[lgbt-fantasy-fiction]

Chapter 2: Angel Or Devil

I wasn't sure who or what would be picking me up that day since I had never met Miss Wilder's daughter, well not since we were both very young anyway. Whatever I was expecting wasn't the tall, grey eyed person that knocked on my door at ten o'clock sharp. Her obviously bleached platinum hair combed into some strange Rockstar updo that I had no name for. "You must be Nichol, I'm Yoki but most people Just calls me Storm." She extended her hand, a lopsided grin on her face that seemed to reach her eyes. "Yeah, nice to meet you." I responded, excepting the handshake though I quickly let go, yelping as I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. "Shit! I am so sorry!" Storm looked almost panicked by this, a blush crawling into her face a she took a full step back away from me. "What the hell are you?" I retorted, rubbing at my arm though she just smirked. "A thunder god...Demi-God? Half-blood? Thunder spirit? Hell I don't know what the right word for me Is,My Dad is a storm bringer is all I know." Storm stated simply, glancing up at the sky before smirking slightly and adding "How would you like to meet some of my friends? Hell, Your mom said that you knew next to nothing about our world....Today would be a good day to learn. Most of us need school supplies anyway." I was not sure what to say really but she seemed to be just as unsure of herself as I felt. "Yeah, Okay." I agreed. There was two things I learned from her as we drove into town: One she drove like a maniac and two she sang along with the radio. "So Nichole, you play any sports or anything? The academy has everything from kendo to horseback riding....or even dragon if you are lucky enough to get one of those lazy bastards up. I personally play Loviti Which is more or less a mix of lacrosse​ and football, played in the sky." Storm stated, earning a look. "Um...Nothing in particular. I was more of an artist." Nichole answered, earning a smirk "Andy will love that. He is trying to paint a mural on the backside of the gym and no one wants to help....Mostly because no one knows what the hell the difference between  fuscia and Magenta." I had to laugh at that, though this made me curious. What was this school like? "Wait...you said you play Lov...whatever in the sky? You can fly? How?" Storm laughed. "I'll show you when we pick up Mika and Elsa. I don't feel like ruining a shirt." Storm responded. Needless to say when we got to a large palace sized house a dark skinned girl with red dyed hair was laying on a lawn chair, flipping through a comic book while one who's dark hair glistened in the sunlight in a strange bluish green color as she popped up from the pool. "Yoki? What are you doing here so early?" The girl in the pool asked, her voice sounding almost like wind chimes when she spoke. "Sorry Mika, I was suppose to show Nichole here what the world is really like and I was wondering if you two would like to join us?" "Hey as long as you don't drag me dress shoppin' I'm good." The dark skinned girl stated, earning a laugh. "Yeah tomboy, whatever you say." Storm retorted. "El, Don't start....Storm....Shut up. I'll go get me some clothes on and then we'll go. Dad is on one of his numerous fishing trips and Mom is...well....Mom's giving swimming lessons down at the Y-Mac again." Mika stated, getting out of the water, the skin on her legs shimmering in a light blue scales before they disappeared into normal pale skin. "Mika's a mermaid, El is half mermaid and Mika's cousin....and well you asked me what I was....and I think I left a shirt over here so I'll show you." Storm told me suddenly, getting out of the car before smirking toward El who just rolled her eyes. "Here birdbrain goes, showing off. Do me a favor and don't cause a forest fire. I have no problem with your Dad's human form but his true form scares the shit out of me." El stated, causing storm to blush. "Shut the hell up." She muttered, taking off the short sleeved black leather over-shirt and closing her eyes. Electricity began to shoot around her, the veins in her neck bulging slightly as the sound of fabric ripping filled the air. I felt my eyes widen when I saw a pair of gold and bronze colored wings sprout from her back, stretching out behind her and when she opened her eyes, they were a flashing orangish color. What the hell is she? A demon or an angel? I wondered since by the wings she looked similar to one but her once grey eyes sparked dangerously in a matter similar to a feral beast. Suddenly however the sound of thunder echoed from overhead, prompting her to smile slightly and chuckle. "You are frightened." She stated, smirking slightly as she lifted off the ground. "No." I lied, though she just laughed. "I'm no angel or demon....I know the eyes are scary as hell to look at. My Dad's is red when he gets mad in human form and it even scares me! I'm a thunderer....Thunderbird....Well....er....Halfbreed. my mom is human."

[chaisoo]

(1) cAMARA SJXSKDL i need to tell you the dream i had w chany and the rest of the boys but ya know he was the main. dude (may i call you dude? my apologies in advance) I swear I cried the entire dream I don’t even know why I guess I was emotional or somethin Idk (this is gonna be long gurl so I’m sorry) okay so it started out that I was walking towards a van the boys were supposed to ride in and when I opened the door yeol was with a female

(dskjflkajd okay so since this dream is SO LONG I decided to put the rest under the cut lmaoooo. It’s great lol you guys should really give it a read)

(2) and let’s just say the tempature was v hot lmao so as one can imagine they were surprise @ my c*ckblocking lmao so I just apologized quickly and ran for my life. While I ran some of the boys were exiting the building they were in to get to the van and go home. Chen sees me running so he goes after me and asks if I was okay cause I looked weird plus I never ran so Ijust said yeah so instead of questioning my answer he decided he’d ask me later and also asked if he could ride w me instead. 

(3) The thing is in the beggining I walked to the van looking 4 one of the boys so I could vent bc I was feeling super crappy but instead I found myself with the god of fire just tryna get some lmao. The car ride was kind of silent so I turned the radio to ignore my thoughts. When the radio goes on the saddest fricking song starts playing (미안해 by jonghyun) so I just burst into tears and chen tries to calm me down

(4) We made it to their house/apartment idk and chen immediately left the car bc if it was okay w me he wanted to look for clothes so he could stay w me so I wouldn’t be lonely im cry I lvoe him shjd I stayed in the car because I knew if someone asked me if I was okay I’d probably just cry again so I just waited in the car instead. Minutes after we arrived so did the boys (chany, baek, hunnie &xiumin)

(5) While I waited 4 jongdae, chanyeol gets in the back sit and starts apologizing for what happened and how he never meant that to happen but things got out of hand. The thing is apparently we were close and he noticed how my vibe was different today so he asked if I was okay

(6) The car was silent after his question and when I dedcide to answer him and tell him how I actually felt baekhyun just busts the passenger door open and sehun joins chanyeol in the back so the air just felt awkward and baek goes “did we interrupt somethin?” chanyeol was abt to say yea but I said no and quickly exited the car. When I left baek was like “I think we interrupted them.” chanyeol just gave him a look.

(7) When I entered the house/apt kyungsoo & xiumin tried greeting me but instead I ran to the bathroom bc I was going to cry so I locked myself in and they start knocking “aryn. Aryn. Are u okay?” so I sat in the toilet and cried and I hear someone go “aryn? Aryn? This is suho! What are u guys talking abt?” when I notice I’m not alone suho popS his head from the shower curtain and I swear he screamed but like a whisper

(8) And then he asks if I could hand him the towel and his clothes and I do but we haven’t really seen our faces so when he finished he opens the curtain and asks me if I could turn around so he can look at me and I just move my head like a no but asks me again and says “please look at me” (he was sO GENTLE IM sFHJVSKCDFBF

(9) So I turned around and he asks me “did they hurt you? which one? I will end them!!” and when I respond it wasn’t them I was just sad he calms down and opens the door and all of the boys were starring w concerned faces and I couldn’t bring myself to look at any of them so I was going to leave

(10) But chen said it started to rain and the rain was v heavy and it would be bad to drive in my condition so suho insisted I should stay and if I didm’t want to and the heavy rain calmed then someone can accompany me when I leave

(11) then I felt someone hug me and it qas yixing (I lov him and trust him w my heart) so after this everyone settled in their rooms except chanyeol and sehun so I went to jongin;s since he was already sleepin when I got there and he woke up when he felt me lay in bed so hee asks me if I was okay and we cuddled and we both fell asleep but I woke up

(12) and didn’t wanted to disturb him so I left the room and went to the living room. I gues chanyeol was waiting for me cause he approched me really fast and w a calm and concerned voice asked if we could talk so he again and he sat beside me and looked at me. His face was glowy and warm but he looked worried so I spoke and said “I’m just not sure okay” so with a confused face he asked notsure about what? And

(13) I sswear I called him dude and went like I DON’T KNOW IF I LIKE YOU OKAY aND HIS FACE WAS PRICELESS AND ASGHDJKSF somebody woke me up :-( 

ldkfhldkfh I CANNOTTTT! This is so great oldshfdkljskh cuddly Jongin and protective Chen/Suho?? I’m really dying. But I feel like that’s totally something that would happen to Chanyeol like have someone walk in on him and someone else lmaooooo with his luck! anyway, I can’t believe you said “god of fire just tryna get some” I’m really screaming sddakjfksjdh this entire thing is hilarious man I wish I had dreams like that