#decided it’d be easier to have everything in one spot rather than to keep repeating myself

[butchybats]

have you some headcanon about Lesbian Devil’s Minion that you’d like to share?

Compilation of lesbian devil’s minion thoughts!!

Soft hcs + face claims - fluffy thoughts about r63 devil’s minion taking care of each other!! Plus face claims for both of them

General world building hcs - how would the chronicles change with them being women?

Butch Daniel face claim - OKAY THIS ONE ISN’T MINE BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH I HAVE TO INCLUDE IT! 🥹

Butch4butch devil’s minion meet cute - in which Daniel’s captor is a hot butch

Fright night au - is Daniel’s new next door neighbor a vampire?

Armand discovering the wlw scene - Daniel is Armand’s teacher for the new world and gay subculture

Butch Armand hcs - butch!Armand and how her butchness would change the chronicles

[samnyangie]

Perhaps everyone already know it but me(or even I might had seen it before;;), but I’ve found a rsl interview on the dead poets society (https://rsl-daily.livejournal.com/140836.html), he talked about the behind the scenes in great detail and I thought it’d be an interesting read to those who are just fan of the film.

To those who haven’t read this before… enjoy!

____________________________________________________________

unknown: from script to screen

The Collaborative Art of Filmmaking

by Linda Seger and Edward Jay Whetmore

From Script to Screen

unknown

Robert Sean Leonard on Dead Poets' Society

All seven of us boys arrived a week before shooting. We were told that the week was reserved for haircuts and learning how to play soccer. It turned out to, be a week of getting to know each other. The first morning we went through the script as it was, and the following mornings were basically improvisations.

Once Peter Weir directed us to get up one by one and give a speech in character. He would do silly things, like he would pretend he was a teacher putting together a Christmas pageant and we were all supposed to be in it. Some of us formed a human sleigh and the rest of us had to be reindeer. Maybe it was silly but it got us in touch with our characters and the feeling of the script. And it also helped us get to know each other.

The Cave Scene

Right away Peter told us that the poetry scene, the first scene of the boys in the cave, would be the hardest scene to pull off in this movie. The audience has to believe that there are seven young guys in this cave that are having a good time reading poetry. They don't want to leave. And Peter said if we could make that scene work, the movie would work.

In the original script, that first cave scene had problems. It was just us reading poetry. One of us had a line like "Isn't this fun?" or "How great." Finally Peter said to us, "I just don't believe it. I don't believe that these guys would sit in a cave at midnight and just read poetry."

And then he said something I'll always remember because it was wonderful. He said, "I don't know what happened that night in the cave, but you all do. That's why I hired you. I met you and I knew from talking to you that you were all there. You know what went on that night and I need you to tell me." So we all went home like fiends and wrote seven different scenes on our own, and we worked together, and improvised a lot of ideas.

Late at night somebody would knock on my door and say, "I have an idea about this," and then we'd discuss it. Then he'd disappear and we'd keep writing. It was incredibly collaborative and fun. We came up with things like the food and the ghost stories and the Playboy magazine. We thought of how we would sulk around at school and rag on our teachers.These were things that we honestly thought would occur. We'd bring them to Peter and he'd say, "You're right, do it."

Up on the Roof

There was always a kind of freedom. He would take in all of our ideas, keep some, throw some out, and then have Tom rewrite scenes. Like in the final version there's the scene where Ethan [Hawke] and I throw the desk set off the roof. Ethan and I had done the original version of that scene together for Peter when we had auditioned. Ethan says, "It's my birthday." I ask him what he got-was it the same thing his parents got him last year? And he says yes.

In the original version he goes on about his family and says, "I used to think that all parents just automatically loved their children and now I know it's not true. Because my parents certainly don't love me, or at least not as much as they love my brother." And then he walks away and I sort of look after him with concern.

We shot the scene at three in the morning and Peter said, "I don't think this is right. I think we already know all this. We're overstating it. The audience knows this by now. It's in the performance, it doesn't need to be said. I'd rather this scene be more about friendship than about a confession or exposition on the boys' problems. I want it to be more active, I want something to happen."

So he put it in our hands, and we went off and decided to destroy the desk set. Peter said it was a good idea but he wanted us to throw it off the roof because we only had three desk sets to work with. So the three of us wrote the scene on the spot. Half of it was improvised in front of the camera. It was great.

Another scene that got changed was where I perform in the play. Originally my character's father walks onstage in the middle of the performance and drags me off in front of all the other actors and the audience. Peter wanted me to complete the performance, to see the people cheering. And that's what we did.

The Big Sleep

My character's suicide was obviously a major scene in the film, and it kind of hung over everything. At the beginning of filming Peter explained, "I want you to put that scene out of your mind, I don't want you playing it like this boy is doomed. I want you to pretend that he goes on to become a doctor or lawyer, there's nothing wrong." He didn't want to give the audience any clues. He wanted it to be one of those cases where everyone says, "My God, he would be the last person I would ever have thought would have done that!"

We shot it toward the end of production. Much of my preparation was subconscious. A lot of it involved the love I felt for all the boys, and for Peter and Robin. I just adored Kurt Smith who played my father. When you're surrounded by people that you're comfortable with and that support you, the difficult scenes become a lot easier.

I did read a lot about teen suicides and quotes from people who had attempted it. I found that a lot of teenage suicides happen because their world is smaller and it's much easier to feel trapped, especially somewhere like that school. They don't know the world beyond the school. Their parents and teachers are their whole universe.

Neil was like a child who had his candy taken away. His father takes acting away and tells him he's going to go tomilitary school, there's no choice in the matter. It's the end of everything he knows and loves.

When you're that young, you don't feel that there are any options. That's where the trapped feeling comes from. No future. And I don't think Neil thinks it out too much. For him it's a romantic, passionate decision.

Working with Robin Williams

There's a scene with Robin in the schoolroom where I lie to him and tell him that my father gave me permission to be in the play. He says, "Did you tell your father? What did he say?" and I say, "It will be fine." The scene was only about five lines and then I was to get up and leave.

But when the camera was on me, instead of letting me leave, Robin repeats the questions again, "Really, you really told him?" In my mind I'm thinking, why aren't we cutting? What's happening here? We're completely off the script and why aren't we cutting? Robin says it again, "Really, you told him what you told me?" And he looks in my eyes, and I'm terrified. I say, "Well, he wasn't happy," and then I mumble something, which I don't think makes any sense, like "He'll be in Chicago, so it won't really matter." I totally made that up as the camera was rolling. Robin just tortured me. He kept repeating all the questions, and I had to improvise different answers. I'm totally on the spot. And of course it comes across wonderfully that I'm lying.

Peter said, "Cut" and "Perfect," and that was the take that was used.

Robin made that scene work, and that was his strength. He's incredible on his feet. We were all very young and impressionable, and I would never have had the nerve to go completely off book with Robin Williams. But it was his place to do that, since he was the star. And he did. He treated us as equals. He was a joy to work with.

[bts-weverse-trans]

201124 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - J-Hope

j-hope: “Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.24

On April 28, j-hope streamed a Log ( ON ) video of his dance warm-up on BTS’s YouTube channel, BANGTANTV. Over the course of an hour and four minutes, he stretches out his whole body, gradually advances from small motions up to big movements, and demonstrates more of his other techniques. And he didn’t leave out his cooldown exercise, either. This has been j-hope’s life as a BTS member for the past seven years.

A whole lot happened this year. j-hope: Like I said in another interview, it’s been a roller coaster of a year. It started out with our performance at the Grammys, which was really, really, great, and then Map of the Soul: 7 came out, which was great, too, and then it plummeted. With COVID-19 happening, I did a lot of thinking, did some studying, then everyone met “Dynamite” and we had some great results. And the ride repeated. Roller coasters are scary, but you keep thinking about them even after you get off. That’s how I felt about this year: it was scary, but memorable.

One of those memorable things must be how “Dynamite” topped the Billboard Hot 100 but you never had a chance to actually go to the U.S. j-hope: So when we got first place, we couldn’t even check the charts. We were asleep. We checked when we woke up, and there we were, at the top. But then we went straight to work. (laughs) We had to film something here in Korea. It was hard to enjoy ourselves, the whole situation being what it was, but it was all right because we could still enjoy it together.

You must have had a lot on your mind, making BE during this kind of year. j-hope: I tend to think of BTS albums as being a reflection of the whole team, but this time I thought of it as putting in the stories I wanted to tell, making it my music and infusing myself into the new album while still being a BTS album. It turned out to be right at home with BTS’s color, and the whole team’s energy led to an even bigger synergy.

What made you think to go in that direction? j-hope: We started this album off by getting together and asking what kind of story we wanted to tell. The end result of that conversation was, “Well, hey, we still have to live with this situation; we can’t give up.” And from there, “Life Goes On” was born, and then we got to work on the stories we each wanted to tell. I think it sounds more raw, since we tried to capture the emotions we felt living through the pandemic.

I imagine you each had a lot of songs you wanted to include, and that your opinions were probably all a bit different. How did you compromise on the final product? j-hope: None of us made any kind of plan. We’d listen to a track and someone would ask, “Hey, anybody wanna give this a try?” and someone else would say, “Me! I’ll do it.” We just did it that way. There were clashes, too. When each person starts to speak louder, it’s hard to find a common ground. But we’ve always been good at communicating with one another, and we know when to back down or be gracious, so everything went smoothly including planning for the unit songs.

How did each of you choose your songs? You put “Dis-ease” on the album. j-hope: There’s one song where we were working in the studio and someone said, “That track wasn’t very good, was it? Jung Kook’s one before was better” and we’d switch on the spot. The song would be done recording and we talked to the label and ended up switching it out. We listened to it all together and said, “What about this?” And that’s how we decided. So then “Life Goes On” was done, and I wasn’t sure if “Dis-ease” would be on the album. We gave the seven songs from each member to Jimin, who was project manager, and he suggested we listen to them first and then get feedback from people inside the company. I think it was one of the stories each member could feel was his own.”

Where did you get the idea for the theme of “Dis-ease”? j-hope: First, I wanted to get into the mindset that this song is a sickness. When I make a song, I work on the chorus first, and then move onto the first verse. When I had only finished the chorus the song felt upbeat, but I thought the overall theme shouldn’t be too playful. That wouldn’t reflect how I felt. But while the theme of “Dis-ease” itself isn’t very light, when it fuses with the beat, it feels as if the song is trying to get over itself and stay positive. So I threw some scratching into the chorus and put in some “bbyap bbyap bbayp” and then started to think, “Aha! I’d better call this song ‘Dis-ease.’ ”

I didn’t expect you to write a song portraying your love–hate relationship with your work as a disease. A lot of people would expect you to have a positive, hopeful attitude, given your name. j-hope: I was too busy to ever give much thought about the work itself. But, as you know, that suddenly changed, and there was a lot we could no longer do. When I was working, I’d say, “Ugh, I need a break,” but then we took time off and the words, “Ugh, I want to work,” jumped out of my mouth! That’s what made me think more closely: “Why is this bothering me? I have a chance to rest—just take it. Why do I feel like I need to work under these circumstances? Is this an occupational disease?” I felt like this was a part of me that I could express at this point in time.

This is the first time in your lyrics I’ve heard how hard you push yourself to be successful. It made me wonder about the burden you felt about work over the past seven years. j-hope: Out of habit, I would say, “I’m okay; I have hope,” and keep working, but I think I was just avoiding my work-related problems rather than facing them head on. The nice thing about music is that I can say what’s on my mind, even feeling of sadness or depression, in beautiful ways.  I don’t usually express those feelings but this time I wanted to try.

It sounds like you have lots of different thoughts about work. j-hope: With my work? Well, actually, I’m not sure. Work is kind of an ugly duckling. Work gives me good energy but there’s energy you get from resting. But someone like me feels alive when they’re working, so I need to keep moving and keep doing. I feel anxious when I stop and content when I go. Every once in a while I don’t want to work, but I can’t not work.

You’re saying you and work go well together? j-hope: Exactly. It’s easier just to think simple. If you think too hard, that’s when things get difficult. Because I’m me, I can’t just keep it simple all the time, but I’m trying my hardest to do my best.

Thinking simple isn’t always so simple. j-hope: Yeah. Maybe it’s because I don’t have many problems to deal with. I feel uncertainty because of that. Uncertain about how my identity will be affected if I do encounter some great hardship.

BTS has faced a lot of hardship, though, right? j-hope: That is also true. (laughs) But the team wouldn’t have kept going if it’d just been me cheering ourselves on. We’re possible because we all think the same way. I wonder if we would’ve been able to come this far if it was just me saying, “Let’s go, guys!” That’s why I’m even more thankful to the other members.

What do those emotional changes affect your music? j-hope: I didn’t want to make an overly cheery song this time. I thought it would be best to do some softer songs about the way I was feeling this whole time, so I chose “Dis-ease” as well as “Fly to My Room.” The other members also thought, “Yeah, we’ve done a lot of bright songs, so it should be fine if we try it this way, too.” “Blue & Grey” is like that, too. I love that song.

You have a completely different voice when you rap on “Blue & Grey.” Did your rap style also change, along with your emotions? j-hope: I wanted “Blue & Grey” to sound like I was talking, actually. The tone and feel of my voice changes a lot depending on how I vocalize my rap.  I noticed that a lot this time. Namjoon actually helped me a ton. His part was after mine, so I turned to him and said, “Maybe it would sound better if I did it like this,” and tried it out. Then I used his advice and found the right sound.

How does it feel moving away from your normal style? j-hope: It’s really refreshing. I thought it wouldn’t work but I think it did after all. And I always thought this was a feel that I wanted to give it a try. For me, BE is sort of like the first step down an unfamiliar path, so there were parts that were challenging, and also parts that were a welcome change.

I think your rap in “Dis-ease” demonstrates that change well. Instead of trying to keep time in the intro, your flow just follows the story. j-hope: I made sure not to overthink anything this time. It ended up sounding natural because I just matched the rhythm of the words as they left my mouth. And it was refreshing because I haven’t done a long verse like in “Dis-ease” in forever. When we rap, there tend to be four or eight-ish lines; I thought I’d try and pack in a verse with sixteen. It also helped because the lyrics came out before many of the other things for this song.

The music makes “Dis-ease” sound upbeat, but then there’s a surprising message: “To be honest, I have this problem.” It’s like you were holding yourself back from crossing a line. j-hope: It was something like that. Shouldn't we stay on this line? Maybe that’s a disease too (laughs). I thought if j-hope leaned too much to one side people might think that’s strange, too. That’s why I tried to stick to my standards, but since I’m also human I also expressed emotions I couldn’t articulate into music.

You don’t want to try and cross that line? j-hope: I’ve thought about it, obviously. I want to, but in my life itself and in my mind, I always think if there’s a line, it shouldn’t be crossed. But I’m becoming more generous to myself about crossing lines when it comes to music.

So you haven’t crossed yet, but right now you want to say, “I have something else,” and go further. j-hope: Yes. This is maybe a time when I really need to. I’ve been lucky because I met great people, had success and reached where I am now. Now that I’m here, I always want to try new things myself and keep growing. That’s why I’m working hard and thinking about what kind of music I should make.

There’s a part in “Fly to My Room” where you sing, “You can change the way you think.” It’s like you were explaining the past seven years of your life. j-hope: It all depends on how you look at it. Say there’s some kind of food. You might feel lonely while eating it by yourself, but if you forget about your loneliness for a minute and think, “There is no difference in food I would be eating out (with other people) anyway,” then it’s just like eating out. So even though I was stuck feeling lonely at home, I started to think of it as another trip instead. I thought of my room as my world, and delivery food as a three-star hotel meal. As you can tell from the title, I worked on that song by thinking about the way I endured this year so far.

And why did you decide to “change the way you think?” j-hope: Because I get a lot of love. Because I’m in this position and in this place, there’s things I have to deal with, and I should do things and think things I am able to bear. I thought about that a lot and accepted it. So I thought about what I could do during these hard times, and how I could help out my friends, my team. I think I’m still going through that process, too, so everything’s an “-ing”, because I might need to know what to do later about what I can do, even if I don’t quite know it yet.

What effect does being surrounded by so much love have on you? j-hope: It’s amazing to be loved by even one person. Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world. And I know this isn’t something to take for granted. I’m so incredibly thankful that sometimes I feel overwhelmed just thinking, ‘Wow, how can I ever return this much love?’ I want to express that in any way possible, every moment I can, because I’m so honored to be so loved that I can’t begin to put it into words.

A little while ago, in an interview with Rolling Stone India, you said that, when you were young, you equated debuting with success. What does success mean to you now, now that you’ve had success after success? j-hope: Success … It’s a simple idea, but it can weigh on you. In all aspects of life, I think success means being satisfied with what you’re able to do.When you lose faith in your work and it starts becoming a chore, that’s when it starts to get depressing.

There are inevitably times when you can’t enjoy it. j-hope: It’s just, you know, it’s really simple. If you can’t do it now, you can always do it later. Do that, and you can put your mind at ease. And I think that’s the secret to living a long, happy life. Anything you can’t do in your 20s, you can just do in your 40s. Of course, there’s going to be stuff you should do now while you’re still (laughs) energetic. But if that’s the position you’re in right now, you just have to ride it out. Try again later if you can’t enjoy yourself now. You’ll probably feel different in the future anyway. Yeah, that was pretty much the key to my self-preservation.

Where do you find the strength to hold on like that? j-hope: From the group, it’s very clear what that is. It’s our fans. ARMY. We had to pull through, for the fans. At any time of any day, the fans come first. I keep thinking about how painful it would be for the fans if we just gloss over something or feel like giving up just because we’re having a hard time. I was 20 when we made our debut. I didn’t know much about having a social life, but the messages our fans sent were a big comfort and gave us hope. I learned a lot just by reading fan letters and understanding the kind of thoughts they had. Fans and artists really are one and the same.

That makes me think of a line from “Life Goes On”: “People say the world has changed but thankfully between you and me, nothing has changed.” j-hope: Yes, right. I thought that line expressed the feeling really well as soon as I first heard it. Yoongi wrote that. He is really good. (laughs) I think that describes our relationship with our fans.

Trans © Weverse

[robininthelabyrinth]

If you’re still taking prompts, how about an AU where Wei Wuxian is also one of Jin Guangshan’s illegitimate sons

Wei Wuxian’s life might have been different if his mother had gone onwards to visit the Jiang sect, following a glimpse of that handsome young man she’d met so briefly early on, but in the end she’d decided to go a different way – she ended up in Yunmeng after all, but that young man, a servant, had already gotten another woman to be his wife and Cangse Sanren was nobody’s mistress.

She’d made that clear once already.

The Jiang sect leader’s wife liked her on the spot – “Madame Jin conveys her thanks to you for putting her husband in her place, although regretfully that the doctors say his vital root will eventually recover from your well-placed kicks” – and the sect leader liked her, too; she made him laugh, and he liked the child she’d brought with her, a baby as vivacious as she was.  

She stayed there a few years, until the sect leader stopped merely looking a little too long and started looking at her instead of looking at his wife. That was unacceptable: it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to stay much longer without tearing them apart. Still, she wasn’t one to leave without making an impact: she took both the sect leader and his wife to bed for a tumble that lasted a week, and left while they were still stunned speechless.

Her only regret was how her little A-Ying cried for his shijie and his Jiang Cheng, who he’d grown close to, but she told him that he’d see them again one day and soon enough he found his smile again.

That was her baby boy, forgetting pain once it’d healed - just like her.

She refused to give his name to her precious son, but she was reluctant to give her own, having learned to her sorrow that this world of men was unkind to women and even less kind to the fatherless. In the end, she kept the courtesy name the Jiang sect leader had given him and stolen the surname of the handsome man who’d once offered it to her – she rather liked the idea of stealing someone’s name because of a rashly made promise. 

As she’d expected, it made it easier to pretend she was a widow rather than a silly girl who’d been deceived; an irritating pretense, but a necessary one, in this ridiculous world of men.

And so her A-Ying became Wei Wuxian.

She traveled around, aimless, knowing there was something out there for her to do but not entirely sure what, and it gnawed at her right up until the day her little Wei Wuxian ran over to her, shouting, “A-niang! A-niang! I found a brother!”

She’d assumed he was joking – he often tried to play tricks on her, and she played tricks on him right back – but in fact he wasn’t: little Meng Yao, a few years older than her son, had just enough of the same features to make the blood connection obvious.

Cangse Sanren sighed for the stupidity of her past self – so many good suitors, and she’d just had to pick the worst of the lot, hadn’t she? – and crouched down with a smile. 

“Where do you live?” she asked. “Where’s your mother?”

Meng Yao refused to tell her at first, no matter how many sweets and toys she plied him with. She didn’t want to embarrass him by following him home, so she rented a small house and waited; in the end, Wei Wuxian tried to beat up a passing boy for calling Meng Yao the son of a whore and Meng Yao had only been able to stop him by confessing that it was true.

“Well, that won’t do,” Cangse Sanren said, feeling rather cross about the whole thing. “Come on, lead me to her, or else I’ll go around knocking at every brothel in town asking for a girl surnamed ‘Meng’.”

Meng Shi was pretty as a peony and graceful as an orchid, and upon meeting her for the first time Cangse Sanren, who was quite used to beauties, blurted out, “He’s not only a dog but a fool.”

Sadly, Meng Shi preferred men, disappointing previous experiences or no, but she was nevertheless amenable to Cangse Sanren’s proposal of living together – night-hunting being more than profitable enough to buy Meng Shi’s life contract from the brothel within a few months – if it meant that Meng Yao would have the chance to learn to cultivate at the foot of a proper master.

In that way, Cangse Sanren got herself a friend and Wei Wuxian a brother, and felt quite pleased with it.

“We don’t need him,” she declared, full of wine and good company, arm around Meng Shi’s shoulders as the other woman rolled her eyes at her. “A-Yao, forget everything you’ve ever heard about him – he’s a waste of space, a wretch, a dog! Like a purebred horse, he’s fit only for breeding, which means your mother and I got the best part of him already.”

Meng Yao covered his eyes and groaned dramatically, and then went back to arguing with Wei Wuxian as to which one of them deserved to be called gege; Meng Yao took the position that he was older, with Wei Wuxian arguing that he’d become a disciple first.

Not that two small children who were also brothers made for much of a sect.

The thought caught something in Cangse Sanren’s brain, and the next morning she grinned at Meng Shi and said, full of mischief, “I wonder how many others there are out there.”

“No,” Meng Shi said firmly. “Night-hunting alone is dangerous enough, and barely enough to pay for our expenses –”

“It’d stretch a bit further if Mistress Meng were a little less accustomed to silk!”

“– and anyway who even knows how many there might be?”

“There can’t be that many,” Cangse Sanren said. “For all that he’s a scum, he’s also lazy – look at both our boys trying to get up in the morning –”

“Your boy can’t get up in the morning,” Meng Shi said. “Mine likes to have some time to himself. There’s a difference. Also, you can’t blame everything you dislike on him when it’s obviously a trait inherited from you.”

“Can’t I? I think I can. Anyway, as I was saying, he’s lazy: he stayed with me nearly two years and would have stayed longer if I hadn’t cottoned onto him, and you nearly four; and of course he doesn’t have any at home for fear of his wife…no, I’m telling you, a dozen at most.”

“You’re only counting the women he supported,” Meng Shi pointed out. “What about the ones that only happened once, or the married wives?”

Cangse Sanren dismissed these issues with a wave of her hand. “Let’s start with the ones like us. There’s got to be some other young would-be cultivators out there.”

There were, although little Mo Xuanyu, their next find, had been so terrified and tormented by all his relatives until he’d had the personality of a bowl of quivering steamed pudding – he wouldn’t make for much of a cultivator, Cangse Sanren divined at once, but even Meng Shi had to admit that taking him with them was better than leaving him back in the Mo household. 

His own mother had sold him to them for a gold coin, calling him a disappointment as she did, and Cangse Sanren had muttered for the next shichen about some people deserving the scum they hooked up with until Meng Shi started making sad noises just to make her shut up.

Damn that woman was good.

The next few they found were quite happy at home – it seemed that Jin Guangshan threw girls more often than boys, and that girls were able to live quite well on the promise of their children having a cultivator grandfather, so they didn’t need much help – and Cangse Sanren had just given up on bothering to find any more, three children with three very different personalities being rather a lot to deal with on top of night-hunting and keeping Meng Shi in her silks, when the Jiang sect finally caught up with her.

Apparently they’d been looking. Who’d have guessed?

“You had that and turned it down?!” Meng Shi hissed, her eyes full of the (admittedly rather handsome) Jiang Sect leader. “What is wrong with you?”

“Many things, probably,” Cangse Sanren admitted, and under the circumstances let herself be seduced back to Yunmeng with the promise of free housing, childcare, and all expenses paid, plus Wei Wuxian screaming “Shijie! Jiang Cheng!” at the top of his lungs at the first sight of a lotus flower sigil.

They’d stayed first at the Lotus Pier, but in the end got their own house: they’d gotten used to it the past few years, and anyway living with a friend was better than living with a lover - fighting over mundane things like laundry and did-you-remember-to-dust-behind-the-shelf was a lot easier when you didn’t have to think about being sexy at some future date.

Meng Shi never did get the hang of having a real job, teaching music and flirting to all the local children in equal measure, and perhaps most importantly she watched the children whenever Cangse Sanren went out night-hunting along with the Jiangs – along with the other things she did with the two of them while they were temporarily unburdened by the presence of nearly a dozen small, prying eyes.

At first Cangse Sanren was concerned about a repeat of last time, but it turned out Meng Shi was good for that, too; Madame Yu wasn’t as bothered about her husband sharing a bed with the witty, charming, pretty-as-a-flower Meng Shi when it meant she got to have Cangse Sanren to herself in her own.

As life went, it was pretty good, Cangse Sanren was willing to admit, especially when the discussion conference came around and she was finally able to rid Meng Shi of her remaining illusions. It was a good life, a happy life, and it was something she’d forged with her own two hands; she was very pleased about it.

Meng Yao never quite stopped wearing a smiling face that hid daggers, but it was a little easier to forgive his vindictive viciousness once he’d started doing it to defend his younger brothers as well as himself – it was good for him to spend time with Jiang Yanli, whose friendliness and innate goodness routinely caused him to question everything he thought he knew about human nature. 

They played a great deal of chess, which Jiang Yanli routinely lost with a smile, and in return he reminded her that she was still at the age to be adopted, not do the adopting herself – which she sometimes forgot.

Wei Wuxian finally agreed to Meng Yao’s seniority now that he had both Mo Xuanyu and Jiang Cheng to bully and lead around by the nose; he remained as high-spirited and vivacious as he’d ever been, but – and it was probably for the best – his reckless arrogance was tempered by constantly being outsmarted in the first instance by a well-prepared Meng Yao.

Mo Xuanyu, the family baby, spent a great deal of time clinging to Jiang Cheng; no one entirely understood why or how their quiet, shy wallflower had gotten attached to someone so abrasive and easily angered, but somehow Jiang Cheng routinely cursing him as an idiot and a useless good-for-nothing did more to wash away the scars left over from the Mo household than anything else anyone had ever done.

It was – good.

So when the Wens came to tear it all down, well.

None of them were going to put up with that.

[ddarker-dreams]

In Passing. Yan Shigaraki x Reader [COMM]

“It sure is getting worse around here, huh?” 

A dejected sigh leaves your lips as you glance down at your screen, news alert notifications weighing down your soul further. This area of Japan isn’t renowned for being a safe haven, yet it was never this bad. Seeing the area you’ve called home your entire life deteriorating is a frightening experience, making you wonder if it’d be easier to move. 

Moving sounds nice in theory. When it comes to bringing your thoughts in fruition, too many outstanding obstacles stand in the way. Having to find a new job, a new place, your lease that stated you’d pay rent on this apartment for another six months, and having to move away from all your friends. These factors are what you remind yourself of when you entertain the thought of going elsewhere. 

There are more news alerts, your phone vibrating in your pocket.

“League of Villains confirmed to be behind the latest attacks.” 

“Heroes from all prefectures are being called in to deal with new threats.” 

“Mayor to enact 8 PM curfew to mitigate casualties.” 

The final flashing headline feels like the last nail in the coffin. There’s no denying the extremity of the situation in your prefecture, but isn’t this a little extreme? For such an intense measure, it’s being enforced on the same day as the announcement. You make a note to yourself to check in with your nearby friends to make sure they’ve made it home safely. 

Life as you know it is changing, in a way you don’t appreciate.  

This is headache inducing. The clock now is set an hour before curfew, leaving you with some options. While it might be wiser to stay at home, an inner craving for sweets is gnawing at you from within. Your everyday schedule has been hectic, leaving no room to breathe. It couldn’t hurt to treat yourself with some desserts, and the place you’re thinking of is less than ten minutes away. 

Significant incidents thus far haven’t been within thirty minutes of you. You’ll be fast, it can’t hurt to try. Having sweets to hold you over a few days is a tempting concept that you give into with ease. 

Heroes are being sent in from everywhere in Japan, it’s only a matter of time before the dust settles. According to news anchors, at least. You’ll choose to have faith in their words, and not worry more than necessary.

With a newfound pep in your step, you grab your bag and head towards the door. This is just the thing you need, a small pick me up. Maybe you can grab some extras for your coworkers, everyone has been on edge lately. Nothing a little chocolate can’t fix. 

Still keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavior, you keep your guard up. Fewer people are on the streets, as to be expected. Some shops are even closing earlier in anticipation of the later curfew. The sight of this instills you with a new sense of vigor, picking up your pace in hopes of making it in time. If they close right when you get there, it’d be beyond disappointing. 

The typical bustling sounds of life from Japan are dying down, saved for your own footsteps against the cement and passing cars. People are taking this more seriously than you envisioned, cooping up in their residence even an hour before they need to. Lack of fellow humans in your vicinity is an unnerving sensation, your muscles going taut. Shutters are being closed, doors locked, like the calm before the storm. 

After a moment of thinking, you decide it might be best to head back. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Even if it means missing out on chocolate truffles. There are other ways you can treat yourself, your mind going to that. A movie night wouldn’t be a bad idea, maybe making some popcorn to accompany it. Making the best from a dire situation is what keeps you from falling apart at the seams. 

The opportunity to turn on your heels is stolen from you.

A flying blur suddenly slams into the sidewalk in front of you, earning a horrified gasp from your person. Startled, you back up, lips quivering and head darting around frantically for more information. The sickening crunching sound reverberates within your head, bile rising to your throat. 

The person in front of you is wearing a distinct hero uniform, tattered and caked in blood. Mind overflowing with desperate thoughts, you consider your options. From what you’re able to gather, he’s clearly physically hurt. Incapable of even lifting up his own weight without stumbling down again. 

A local hero from the looks of it, his name escaping you. Doing a double take, there’s no danger that you can spot. Heart pounding rapidly within the confines of your chest, you make a hesitant approach, lending your hand in assistance. 

“A-are you okay? Here, let me help you up,” you stutter out, uncertain of the best course of action. He coughs up blood, unlikely registering your existence next to him. “Oh, uh, okay, let me get help. I’ll call an ambulance--” 

“Run.” 

It’s a low gurgle, the scent of iron hanging in the air like a death sentence. You shiver, sensing the impending doom within his single utterance. From the depths of his being, a frenzied plea managed to leave his bruised mouth. It’s only now you see how mangled his body is, open wounds spilling pools of blood onto the ground.

He’s not going to make it at this rate. From what you’ve read in the past, and seeing the rapid blood less, it’s only a matter of time before he goes into shock. It’s a miracle that he’s even incapable of offering a single word to you, one that goes beyond your understanding. Surely there’s no one around, not that you can see. He must’ve been thrown from the thrall of battle, ending up here on the outskirts. 

What takes priority is getting this dying young man help. Ignoring his warning, you get your phone, dialing the emergency number with shaky hands. Smoke begins to rise in the distance, sirens getting louder and causing your head to swirl. The line continues to ring, each second feeling like centuries apart. 

It’s taking the operator forever to pick up, are they being overwhelmed with calls? Whatever is happening elsewhere must be a nightmare for you to not be able to reach any help. 

The hero next to you crawls forward, body shaking violently and rapidly losing strength. He clutches your ankle, a shriek leaving your lips at the unexpected sensation. 

Without wasting any time, he repeats his earlier warning, wheezing through labored breaths. “You… you need… to run.” 

A hero’s job is to protect the public from harm. Even as he lays here, presumably moments away from the pearly gates, he insists on helping you. It didn’t get through to you before, your mind wrapped up in the moment and concern for helping him. As painful as it is to realize it, he’s not going to make it. Not at the rate he’s going, numerous wounds marring his body. 

Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you try calling for an ambulance again while walking away. He slumps down, believing that you’re finally heeding his warning to flee. 

It all happens faster than you can register. 

Hazy colors surround him from behind, a foreboding image. Stemming from the ground and swirling their way up, dark blacks and purples mix together to reveal a nightmare from the gates of hell. It takes form into a more human shape, eyes devoid of emotion and narrowing at the sight of you. Stepping out alongside him is a hunched over figure, detached hands covering his body.

Your blood runs cold. Lips part, not a sound leaving them as you intended. It’s impossible to scream, to run, to think. Adrenaline pumps throughout your blood vessels, fight or flight response activating. Too little too late, your vulnerable self surrounded by villains. 

This is what he was warning you about. At the time you didn’t consider your well being to be in jeopardy, no threats nearby. Now, materializing in front of you, stands two overarching people capable of ending your life. 

Or worse. 

Your only saving grace is that their attention is set on the nearly lifeless hero in front of you. A pale hand reaches out towards his neck, skin making contact. In a way that shouldn’t be possible, his once ruddy skin crumbles away like sand onto the ground. The sight manages to shake you up enough to scream, backing up with shaky legs. 

Alerting them to your presence serves to be your downfall, even if they would’ve noticed you eventually. The hand covered figure looks up at you, head tilting to the side. Through your paralyzed state, you pick up on more of his physical features. Tousled silver hair, hunched over posture, a black hoodie… it strikes a chord within your memory, a name leaving your lips before you can bite your tongue.

“Shigaraki, is that…?” 

He flinches at your tentative tone. The fog hovering over your mind clears, giving you a moment of unwanted realization. Shigaraki is a distinct person within your mind, one that you never characterized as a villain, much less a killer. Finishing that young man’s life without hesitation, donning a fittingly morbid outfit. 

Your initial interpretation was that Shigaraki isn’t a people’s person. By chance or fate, a few months prior, you had run into him at your job. He had trouble maintaining eye contact with you, voice guttural and uncertain. When you recommended a specialty drink to him, much to your surprise, he accepted it. 

That was the insignificant start of your quaint friendship. 

Despite first appearances, he was enjoyable to be around. You two ended up exchanging numbers after having more run-ins, discovering your shared interests. He preferred to listen to you speaking rather than leading conversations, still feeling comfortable enough to offer his input. 

Not many people were like Shigaraki. He felt like a breath of fresh air, someone who didn’t mince his words. You recall the times he’d tell you how it is, never being one to blend in with the popular opinion. For that, you respected him. Even if you didn’t see eye to eye on everything, his passion and knowledge on subjects was inspiring. 

You felt special, getting as close to him as you did. Many had tried and failed where you had succeeded. It didn’t make sense why he seemed partial to you, yet you never questioned him. A blooming bond formed, tended by your considerate hands. 

Only one aspect struck you as odd. While indulging in your own personal life, Shigaraki vehemently refused to extend the same courtesy. Knowledge of his job or family was nonexistent. It isn’t easy for everyone to talk about -- you assumed at the time -- so you never pushed the sensitive subject. 

Now that leads you to this position. 

“W-what… this, no… this can’t be you! You just,” you gulp back a lump forming in your throat, the word not wanting to come out. “You just killed him! Why?” 

He approaches you. Your prior words are met with a wave of regret, your tongue in usage before you could stifle it. For the lack of hesitation used in offering this hero, it’s natural to assume he’d have no trouble disposing of you too. There’s no way you’ll allow yourself to fall victim without putting up some form of a fight. 

There’s subtle hesitation in his approach. Or are you imagining things…? 

“No, this isn’t right!” 

It’s Shigaraki’s voice, clear as day. His tone accentuates how troubled he is, his fingers scraping the sensitive flesh of his neck. You wince at the sight, streaks of blood coming into fruition from his distressed action. Now towering over you, a silent stand off begins. The tension in the air is palpable enough to cut through it with a knife. Looking down at what little remains of the hero, you feel a new sense of resolve. His final wish, his final plea, was for you to run. Selflessly, instead of thinking out for himself, he urged you to safety.

You won’t let his sacrifice be in vain. No matter what it takes, you’ll get out of this. 

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you take in the situation. Shigaraki is in a similar confused state as you, mumbling under his breath and planning what to do with you. The next few seconds will be critical, time a luxury you can’t afford to waste. With the influx of heroes coming into this area to fend off the attacks, there’s a chance one might be chasing him down now.

It’s not a reliable enough idea. Fighting against two isn’t plausible either, given the gap in your strength. The best option is to run when there’s an opening. You know this area fairly well, and flagging down a passerby for help could be the ticket out of this. Readying yourself to sprint at any second, you stare Shigaraki down. 

“Shigaraki Tomura, what do you want to do with this person?” The foggy apparition from behind speaks up, earning both of yours attention. For a brief instance, Shigaraki turns his head around towards the source of the question. His uncertainty will be his downfall. 

‘This is my chance!’ 

Conjuring every ounce of your strength into your legs, you run. Feet hitting the ground with swiftness, heart pounding violently. The world around you is a blur, primal emotions taking over to flee this deadly scenario. None of the potential consequences matter, having dipped too far to pull back. It doesn’t come as a surprise when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind, the threat serving to keep you on high alert. 

Out of breath, you continue to look around for any potential help. No one is out on the streets at this time, so running is all that can be done. Your chest is heaving for air, legs burning and face flushed. Energy rapidly draining, your speed wavers. It won’t be much longer until whoever is chasing you -- be it that fog creature or Shigaraki -- is capable of killing you. 

Right as you think this, you turn a sharp corner into an alleyway. It’s a familiar area, your only advantage. This area leads to the backyard of some houses, if you jump the fence you might be able to wave down help. Brimming with potent determination, you prepare to spring up and bounce over the wiry fence growing closer to you. 

It’s claustrophobic in this area, brick walls and either side of you tight and restricting. Taking a deep breath to brace yourself, you jump up, hands clutching to the fence. Not bothering to spare a glance behind you at your pursuer, you utilize all your energy. Hoisting yourself over the top of the fence with shaky arms, you huff after accomplishing your goal. Dropping back down onto the ground on the other side. 

Only to be met by the hazy figure, Shigaraki coming out with him. 

You’re completely cornered. Looking side to side, no other people are in sight. The rush of adrenaline is diminishing at a frightening pace, droplets of sweat running down the sides of your face. Wiping your mouth with your hand, you glare up at the imposing duo. 

“Stop running.” Shigaraki hisses at you from behind his mask, tone irate. All of your actions are under close scrutiny, the wrong move being a death sentence. He stalks closer to you, limiting any further chances at escape. 

“Kurogiri. We’ll bring them back with us.” 

You and the person whose name is presumably Kurogiri look at Shigaraki in shared confusion. 

“Hurry up. I don’t have all day.” 

Broken free from your stunned stupor, you protest. “Wait!”  

Darkness wins over light, bewitching you in its macabre beauty. Your fingers, your arms, your legs, all of it is surrounded by shades of monochrome. Floating along into the unknown, sunlight is stolen. The walls are now made of concrete, bars on the windows. Wherever this is, it won’t be easy to escape. The crumbling environment brings with it a sense of dread.

Kurogiri’s quirk must allow the ability to transport, or something similar. It’s the only logical explanation. 

Shigaraki doesn’t look back at your other guest again. “Leave us.” 

The statement isn’t meant for you. Shigaraki takes a seat on the ground, giving an opportunity for you to gain your bearings. Panicking won’t help you, acting careful is in your best interest. Silence fills the air, eating away at you from within. 

You take the opportunity to speak up, not sure if you want to know the answer to your question. “So, what’s going to happen to me?”

“I don’t know.” 

That’s far from reassuring. Hostile intent isn’t anywhere to be found, so you continue to test the boundaries of your luck. Shigaraki isn’t in control of his feelings, it’s possible to capitalize off of that. If you say the wrong thing, it could also be your undoing. A double edged sword. Flurries of emotion swirl within you, ranging from despair to hope. It isn’t too late for you to get out of this. 

Deescalating the tense atmosphere is the first step in your plan. 

“For you to be doing this,” you purse your lip, successfully gaining Shigaraki’s attention. “There must be some… grander reason, right?” 

‘Get him talking. Identify a weak spot and go from there.’

Your question has the opposite effect on him, Shigaraki growing visibly restless. Shuffling his weight around and considering the merit of your words. It’s good you’re incapable of seeing his face right now, the deranged expression a sign of his unhinged mood. 

Shigaraki grimaces behind his mask, lips set in a snarl. “I hate heroes. You know that.” 

He’s mentioned it in the past. The hatred he speaks of never bordered on murderous intent, a line that shouldn’t be crossed. Everyone has their reasons, it still doesn’t justify their actions. Admonishing him might be a risky move, so you think of a neutral approach. 

“Shigaraki, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” you tell him, not certain if it’s a lie or not. Getting him to open up and lower his guard is the best action you can see for the time being. He hums lowly at your statement, not giving it too much thought. An uncomfortable silence settles in between the two of you.

Is he planning on holding you here as a hostage? 

“Say something.” Shigaraki speaks up, shooting you a look. When you spent time with him before, it was filled with talking and laughter. Replicating that sense of normalcy now feels absurd, yet you give it your best shot. 

Swallowing thickly, you hug your knees close to your chest. “I was thinking about texting you earlier.” 

The chaos that surrounded your home had you disturbed. Shigaraki never struck you as the fighting type, shying away from human interaction outside of you. Even the suggestion to meet your other friends was immediately shot down without remorse. So to think he’s capable of murdering someone in cold blood… it causes you to shiver. 

It’s impossible to ever really know someone. 

“What for?” he inquires, interest piqued. Behind the mask, his voice is muffled. Facial reactions gave away insights of the soul, exposing a person at their most vulnerable. In this state, he must be too ashamed to show you his face. Or you could be imagining things, a plausible explanation given the extreme circumstances. 

Honesty is the best policy when you’re in doubt. “To check in on you.” 

“So you care, then?” 

You open your mouth, only to close it once more. His posture is rigid, voice pointed. There isn’t a broad physical gap between you two, the same can’t be said for your emotional distance. Months spent weaseling into Shigaraki’s life crumble in between your fingertips, too fine to catch. He must feel this way too. 

Indignation is sparked within you. “Care...? Of course I cared. You are -- no, were -- important to me. How do you expect me to feel now that I’ve seen you murder someone?” 

As your sentence goes on, your voice grows in volume. Nostrils flaring and fingernails puncturing the skin of your hand, all caution is thrown to the wind. The audacity to question you like that, after all the effort you put into your relationship is offensive. 

Shigaraki doesn’t take your piercing words laying down. “There’s no reason to care for trash like that.” 

His version of the earlier events is a wickedly twisted one, remorse nonexistent. Being next to him is stifling, your brain shouting at you to get away. Antagonizing him further should be the last thing you do, yet you can’t control the sense of justice burning within. To have killed a hero who spent his final moments protecting you is the worst type of insult. 

“Why you’re getting so worked up about it is beyond me. It’s pissing me off.” 

Alarming you with his crazed voice, you shut your lips together. In the heat of the moment you lost yourself, unraveling the hard work from earlier. Now he’ll know that you’re lying if you backtrack. Had you been anyone else to Shigaraki, you’d be dead by now. Attachment for you, contorted as it may be, is what’s keeping you alive. 

Challenging him will put you on thin ice. From his secrecy, you can gather he didn’t want you to know about this. 

Shigaraki reaches up to the hand on his face, removing it. You glance over his familiar facial features, wan complexion and bags under his eyes prominent. Crimson eyes narrow at you, unrecognizable emotions dancing inside of them. He’s upset. At you finding out about him, about this world. How you look at him with disappointment, the weight that it places on his tortured soul. 

He chews violently on his lower lip. “You hate me now.” 

It’s not an empty assessment. The repugnance that rises like bile in your throat could be classified in that way, but you don’t confirm it. More than anything, you feel let down, like you’ve been misled. How many times has he lied to you? What did your time together mean to him? If it meant anything at all. Humiliated, you purse your mouth together. 

“Don’t ignore me, [First].” 

Staying silent no longer an option, you snarl. “I don’t get what you’re expecting me to say. You kill someone in front of me, kidnap me, and now expect me to act like it’s no big deal? Don’t make me laugh.” 

No one else could get away with demeaning him like this. The part of you that cared withered away, bitterness taking root in its place. A criminal is sitting next to you, moping about your rejection. It makes for a pitiful scene, your current reality. 

Shigaraki looks towards the ground, incapable of holding eye contact with you. “You’ll stay here until you understand.” 

“Stay...? What do you mean by that. I won’t accept this, I won’t accept you. Not now, not ever.” 

He doesn’t acknowledge your animosity, getting up from his spot on the ground to walk towards the wall. How he’s dictating you makes you see red, refusing to give up any ground. Preconceptions and expectations you never knew existed have been chained to you by Shigaraki, who seems content to let it stay that way. 

“I don’t recommend trying to escape. More trash will die if you do.” 

‘Is he threatening more heroes?!’

Shooting up from your position, you reach out to him, reasons unknown. Extending a hand to the person you once regarded highly, who spat on your feelings and triumphed a ghastly cause. There has to be more you can do, even though it won’t be much. You can’t let him trample over you like this.

“Kurogiri.” 

At his quiet beckoning, Shigaraki is warped out of the drab room you’re occupying. You call out to him, raw emotion erupting without shame. When he disappears from your sight, a final comment is made. One that promises that this is the beginning of your nightmare, that all began due to your well intended kindness. 

Shigaraki’s eyes are crazed, a sardonic grin stretching across his face. 

“You’ll understand, I’ll make sure you understand...” 

[tloujm]

Part XXII: Tryna Make Me a Widow?

Author’s Notes: Last part of the honeymoon era. Back to Jackson for the newlyweds. I have some exciting plot points coming up concerning a certain canonical character, some more angst (gory) and a little love triangle may or may not happen *shrugs*

Warning: Minor gore up ahead. 

Genre: A bit of angst because honeymoons aren’t always perf

Summary: You and Joel run into trouble while out and about in an attempt to enjoy each other’s company and nature. Near death experience and the couple’s first fight as a married couple. 

Ship: Joel x Fem!Reader

You and Joel decided to take a leisurely hike first thing in the morning before it got too hot. He took your hand in his when the two of you left the cottage and you didn’t let go. After a while of walking through the woods, the two of you found yourselves quite a distance away from where you started. You didn't want to go any further, but Joel was compelled to follow a deer along the hillside. 

You looked at Joel curiously after he suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes narrowed and focused in one direction. Your eyes followed his line of view to no avail. There was no deer there. As a matter of fact, there was nothing but the ordinary trees. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but he cut you off before you could even make a sound.

“Be very still.” Joel whispered to you, his eyes never moving away from that spot. It was first a slight movement in his peripheral that caught his attention. He thought it was another deer, kin to the one he was following. For the longest moment, Joel couldn’t figure out what it was that he saw, but he knew he saw something. There was no wind; it moved on its own. This knowledge caused him to let his guard up as he peered out into the distance.

“Is it another animal?” You asked in a matching whisper. Joel didn’t respond. 

When it finally moved again, he was able to make out the figure. It was a person disguised against a tree trunk. As it moved again, Joel locked eyes with it; The figure knew it was caught. Swiftly, it lifted it’s bow and shot an arrow. Joel moved directly in front of you and instinctively lifted his hand to shield his face. Within seconds, the arrow pierced through his hand. The arrowhead pointed directly in front of his right eye. In a state of shock, he brought his hand down and looked at the foreign object lodged between his knuckles. The shock soon turned to aggression as he looked back up into the woods. 

“Stay here and hide.” He commanded as he nodded his head in the direction of  a large bush.

“Joel what---” You began to argue.

“I need to know that you’ll be safe. Now, hide!” He quickly looked at you before glaring back in the direction from which the arrow came. 

You wanted to protest again when Joel ran off deeper into the woods, but you knew it’d be of no use. Strapped to his back was a scope rifle. As you crouched down next to the bushes, you wished that he would have stayed by your side and used the weapon instead.

The rush of adrenaline gave him the energy and ability to ignore the piercing pain of his wound. He pulled out his pistol as he came up on the figure. It was a man and he didn’t start running away until it was too late. Joel aimed for his leg and pulled the trigger. The strange man tripped over himself and fell, allowing for Joel to catch up. With his unwounded hand, he pistol whipped the man across the face. Blood dripped down his arm from the hole in his other hand. He didn’t hear you approach from the blood pumping through his body. You pleaded for him to stop. You knew the man who attacked the two of you needed to be stopped, but you hated seeing Joel so violent. He compromised by repositioning the gun in his hand to aim the barrel at the man’s head. He was about to shoot when he heard you walk closer to him. He turned and read the look of fear on your face. He was unsure if the fear was from him or the stranger. He only pulled his attention away from you when he began to hear the familiar sound of the infected nearby. He knew that they’d eventually find the wounded body of the stranger that attacked you both and the distraction would be welcome as the two of you escaped back to the cottage. Without hesitation, he shot the man, killing him. It was a better death than being eaten alive. He quickly took your hand in his and guided you back to the cottage. 

As soon as the two of you were in the safety of the cottage, it was your turn to do the commanding. You ordered Joel to go straight to the bathroom. He looked at you confused as he watched you barricade the doors and windows. He began to help but you refused and repeated your order. He sat on the edge of the tub with an old t-shirt pressed against his wound to soak up the blood as he waited for you. 

“What the fuck, Joel!” You exclaimed as you walked into the room. You sat on the toilet seat across from him and pulled out a first aid kit from under the sink. “What was that back there? We’ve only been married less than a week and you already tryna make me a widow?”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I’m confused at what part you’re mad at me about. Frankly, you’re not the one with an arrow lodged between their knuckles.” He retaliated. You snatched his wounded hand away from his chest and broke the tail of the arrow off to make pulling it out easier. 

“You weren’t thinking---”

“I was thinking; I was thinking about you! I was thinking about how that man had a weapon aimed right at you and I only had a second to do something about it.” He glared directly at you. “Fuck!” He hissed as you pulled the arrow through his hand, leaving a small, gaping hole.

“That’s not gonna be the worst of it.” You commented under your breath as you pulled out a bottle of peroxide. “You had a scope right there! But you decided to go run after the guy? He could have killed you, do you understand that? And what if there were more of them hiding? You alone would have gone up against a group of God knows how many with one good hand? Not even your dominant one at that. All you had to do was use your scope and take the shot and that would have been it. I would have even done it for you but you were already gone. I was scared for you.” He hissed again as the liquid contacted his skin. You gave it a few seconds before cleaning his wound with a damp cloth.

He let out a sigh and nudged the pieces of broken arrow on the floor. “This would have killed you. All I want to do is protect you, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to snap at you; I just needed to make sure you were safe. I could have used the scope, but I just...I just went for it. Next thing I knew, it was too late for that.” His eyes watched your hands gingerly wrap gauze around his right hand. “I didn’t want him to get another chance to hurt you.” His voice lowered. 

After you dressed his wound, you cooked dinner. Again, he tried to help, but you refused. You told him that he needed to rest, but he knew you were still upset with him. You thought about how the day had gone as the food cooked. You understood why he did what he did, but still wished he acted with his head first. You plated the food at the table and ate in relative silence.

After you cleaned up dinner, you found Joel sitting on the front porch with his rifle perched up against the house beside him. His body stiffened when he noticed you there in the doorway. Without words, you let him know you weren’t angry anymore. His eyes scanned yours for a moment before patting his thighs. You walked up and laid down on the bench with your head on his lap. His hand caressed your thigh under the fabric of the sundress you changed into.

“Do you think we’re safe enough to move the rest of the barricades?” You asked.

“Let’s leave them up until mornin’.” Joel replied. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), I mean it. I didn’t mean to scare you back there, but I can’t apologize for wanting to protect you. I’ve...I’ve lost enough in my life and I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything I can to keep what I have left safe.” You just silently soak up his words, not having the energy to respond. The two of you were quiet for a little while before he spoke up again. “What do you think about this place?”

“The cottage? It’s very nice. I love it.”

“Do you love it enough to move here?” He asked. You looked up at him but his gaze was fixed to something off in the distance. “We’d have peace and quiet and nature. With all this land, we can turn it into a ranch maybe. It’s up to you though.” He finally looked down at you.

“I love you so much for this, this nice little bubble that you made for our honeymoon. Everyday we've stayed here was peaceful, but I rather live in Jackson. That’s our home. It has everything and everybody we love.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded.

“...And this cottage here just isn’t big enough to start a family in.” You commented. 

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “You do have a point there.” He smiled. 

[otome-corner-cafe]

Well now that I have an otome side blog I guess I'll talk about this.

So the idea is the brainchild of my answer to a post that read something along the lines of "the last tv show you watch gets crossover with the last game you played."

When I saw that post, the last tv show I had watched was Black Clover. The last game I played was Dandelion: Wishes Brought to You.

Thus, the unholy abomination of...

Black Dandelion~!

(Alternatively, it could be called Clover: Luck Brought to You but hnnnghhhhhh, I thought of "Black Dandelion" first and wishes are kind of a big thing in Dandelion.)

Where was I?

Right!

I'm going to take the base premise of Dandelion and insert my choice of Black Clover characters into it. So this is a modern setting with minimal presence of magic.

So to set the scene: we've got one jerkwad wizard who decides to mess with a particular individual (MC) with a game. Jerk wizard picks out five animal men from the local alternate world and sends them to MC. Five love interests (LIs), one MC. Whoever MC falls for wins, gets a wish granted, and returns to their original world.

The five LIs I chose: Nacht, Morgen, Nozel, Fuegoleon, and William (two of my personal faves and then some fandom faves.)

I have ideas for what animals the guys would be as well as a basic run down of their routes/stories. That info shall be under the cut.

(Fair warning Dandelion fans, I'm messing with the canon social structures because I can.)

.....

Nacht, the white dog (Gimodelo seems to be Nacht's main devil, thus he is a dog man and he's got white hair because punk Nacht lives in my head rent free). In my mind, he would no doubt have a dark route, if not the darkest route in the game. There wouldn't be any devils but he would've been a member of a no-good gang in the animal world. He did whatever he liked with no thought of how it affected others. That was until Morgen tried to stop Nacht and the gang, and the gang retaliated by attacking Morgen. Thankfully, Morgen lived but was left terribly scarred. Nacht became guilt-ridden for the incident and everything he did before. His route would be similar Jiyeon's but not exactly the same. He would act nice and polite to MC (not cutesy like Jiyeon), admiring their goodness and encouraging them when they're down. But then, as he and MC get closer, he gets scared that becoming too close to MC would get them hurt because trouble follows him wherever he goes. Thus, he starts pushing MC away and tries to keep himself away, maybe by even repeating what he did in the animal world like an idiot (but my beloved idiot) to prove a point. He will eventually see that he doesn’t have to blame himself for all the trouble in his life. His wish would be for Morgen to be healed.

Morgen, the black dog (since he's Nacht's brother, he would be a dog too). One of the softer/easier routes to deal with. Morgen would be affectionate towards and supportive of MC. He’s got a visible injury/scar from getting attacked by Nacht’s gang that supposedly doesn’t bother him. A running gag with him is that he’d be encouraging MC to pursue Nacht instead (even though you can’t change the route once you're on one). The biggest issues he has are that he's too selfless, having no idea how to say “no” to any request, and refuses to show negativity so it’d be hard to tell when he’s actually feeling troubled. He fears being a burden on others after seeing Nacht blame himself for the terrible incident. His route arc is him accepting his frustrations and even being a little selfish with his own desires. His wish would be for Nacht to get a clean slate in life (meaning everyone in the animal world would get a mind wipe of who Nacht is).

(Nacht and Morgen would also have a deal like Jihae and Jieun where, if one of them wins, both get to return home.)

Nozel, the silver cat (he has the attitude of a hard-to-please, stand-offish cat, let's be real). Like canon Nozel, Acier died when he was young and he was left in charge of caring for his siblings. His poorly executed protectiveness from canon effects Nebra, Solid, and Noelle now. He puts more focus on keeping them safe rather than loving them and letting them have fulfilling lives. Nozel would have your stereotypical tsundere route. He goes back and forth between brushing MC off and being endeared to MC. He would also show concern over somewhat mundane things: hanging out with people he doesn't know or trying exotic food. Not a super dark route but just sad when MC learns why he's cautious and why he refuses to show love. Nozel forgot how to love properly, worries about loving MC the wrong way, and fears having his heart broken by loving too much. His wish would be for Acier to come back to life so his family would be made whole and Noelle would actually get to meet her mother. (No, the wish isn't too out there. Someone in Dandelion also wishes to restore a life.)

Fuegoleon, the orange cat (lion is a big cat so he’s becoming a house cat). He would likely have the easiest route out of all the guys. His story is that he's a warrior in the animal world and his family has been separated. Mereoleona left to be a wanderer while Leopold is forced to hide away from Fuegoleon because some unsavory cats have beef against the upstanding Fueggy. He’s a chivalrous and kind man but his formality makes it hard to tell if he’s being polite or affectionate to MC. The big trouble in his route is his rigid sense of duty; he feels he needs to win and return home to fulfill his role to his family and people. He needs to learn how to relax and just enjoy what he likes. His wish would be to reunite his family.

William, the white and gray spotted rabbit (he’s got “soft and tame” vibes all over him and has plant associations, thus rabbit). Similar to the effect of his curse mark in canon, William is looked down upon for being spotted as it is stated in-game that solid coats are preferred in rabbits. As a result, he has some dislike for the society of the animal world. He’s glad to be in the human world as he has a fresh start. His route would be pretty tame if a bit frustrating because of his constant self-doubt issues. Thanks to Julius and Patry back in the animal world, William knows that people can care for him but there's still doubt in his mind. Doubt that the care is nothing more than pity and so true love is out of reach for him. His wish would be to reunite with his long lost friend, Patry.

.....

That's pretty much all the ideas I have in mind. I feel bad that Fuegoleon and William's sections are shorter than the other guys. I do like them, just not as much as the others. (My favoritism is showing, whoops.)

In the end, this is just me thinking silly thoughts about pretty men with animal ears.

But gosh, what I would give for a dating sim featuring the men from Black Clover. There'd be so many to choose from! And the routes... Would the dating sim follow canon? Or would it be in some alternate reality where everything is peaceful and the perfect stage for romance?

[zootopiathingz]

Between the Odds

Part Nine: Uncomfortable Encounter

Judy and Nick didn't get many days off, but when they did they took full advantage of it. Sometimes they would decide to stay in and be lazy together, but now that they were a couple they wanted to utilize their free time by going on dates and having some alone time.

It was their first day off since they started going out three weeks ago, and so they chose to have an all-day date. They started by having brunch, then they went to see a movie (that they didn't enjoy too much, but they were more focused on each other), and by the afternoon they were walking aimlessly around the city to be more spontaneous. Although they would probably later decide to call it a day and go home soon.

It seemed now that they were just walking in circles, since Judy recognized the street they were on now that she was starting to pay attention to her surroundings again. "Should we just go back?" She asked, "I feel like today was pretty productive."

"Whatever you want." Nick shrugged nonchalantly, since he didn't mind what she wanted to do. He just wanted to be with her, that's all that mattered to him. "You wanna go to your place or mine?"

"Good question." She chuckled, since she had no idea which she preferred. She had everything she needed at his apartment, but it was also vise versa, so it didn't really matter where they went. Ever since they became official, they spent every night with each other regardless of who's apartment they were at, and it was starting to feel like they were basically roommates.

And that's when a thought came to mind, and Judy felt the need to ask now rather than later. "You know, we've kinda been going back and forth spending the night at each other's apartment." She began, slipping her paws into her pockets. "Do you think it would be easier if one of us just moved in?"

Nick's ears perked up, as he was now intrigued by what she was suggesting. He slowed his pace as he looked down at her, a little surprised by what she said. But he wasn't opposed to it. If anything, he had considered it a few times himself, even back before they were a couple. "Wait, really? You want us to live together?"

Judy nodded, a small little smile making its way on her face. "Why not? It'd be more convenient, and we practically live together already. This would just make it official." She explained, trying to read his expression to see how he felt. From what she saw, he didn't hate the idea.

"You got a point there." He said, "I'm surprised we haven't done it yet, to be honest."

"So you're on board with it?" She asked, trying not to let her hopes get too high yet, since he hadn't outwardly agreed to it. "You don't think it's too soon, do you?"

Nick shook his head, scoffing a little. "I don't think so. We've known each other long enough." He rubbed the top of her head, "And how can I say 'no' to spending more time with my little Carrot cake?"

She giggled and shoved his paw away, though she didn't let go of it when it was moved from her head. "So I'll take that as a 'yes'?"

"Yes." He said, squeezing her paw. "I'd love to live with you."

Judy squealed quietly, holding onto his arm with her free paw, leaning her head against him. He smiled and interlocked their fingers to return some kind of affection to her (since he was too tall to lean against her). It briefly slipped their minds that they were still out in public for anybody to see, and at the moment they didn't really care. They were happy and on a date, so they were allowed to act as such. And it's not like anyone was actively watching their every move. Or so they thought.

While the rest of the mammals on the street seemed to mind their own business, there was one beaver in particular that took notice to the to couple and was none too pleased to see them being affectionate with each other. He glowered at them as they stood on opposite sides of the crosswalk, even though the two didn't see him at first.

As they waited for their turn to cross the street, Judy spotted the beaver staring at her and Nick like they were murderers. It quickly occurred to her that she accidentally let her excitement get the better of her, and she reluctantly released her boyfriend's paw and took a small step away to leave some space between them. Nick looked down at her confused, but he didn't say anything to question her actions. He could easily figure out why she retreated.

Once it was safe, the two made their way across the street along with a few other mammals around them, this including the beaver. But when they passed each other, he continued to stare at them and observe their behavior carefully. He even stopped halfway in his tracks to turn around, as if waiting to see if they'd continue to hold paws or possibly more.

Judy became noticeably uncomfortable by his staring, and though she tried to ignore it, she could feel his eyes following her as she walked onto the sidewalk. It was a good thing looks didn't kill, otherwise she and Nick would've dropped dead long ago.

Nick put his paw on her back to help her keep up with him as he started to walk faster. "Just keep walking, Carrots." He told her quietly, not bothering to look back at the beaver staring daggers at him and his girlfriend. Why the man was so fixated on them was beyond him, but he knew he had to get Judy out of sight before things escalated.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast they walked, they could feel the beaver behind them no farther than seven feet away. Why was he following them? Why did he even care? There was no time to question, they just wanted to get somewhere safe and private. Of course the one day they're not in uniform was the day someone decided to bother them.

As they were about to turn the corner, they heard the beaver shout from behind them, "Breeders!"

It was at this point the two stopped in their tracks to finally face the man, giving him a cold look. What made him think he could just yell out a slur like that to random strangers he knew nothing about? What if they weren't a couple and they were just holding paws as friends? Would he yell at them then?

"Excuse me?" Judy asked, raising a brow.

"I said you're fucking breeders!" He repeated harshly, spitting in their direction—although it didn't reach them.

Nick shook his head as they both reached into their pockets. "Yeah, you're gonna wanna refrain from doing that again, bud." He said as they revealed their badges to him. Even off duty, they had to carry them around just in case. Although admittedly now they wished they had brought their tasers, too.

The sight of the badges seemed to intimidate the beaver slightly, but his disdain was still prominent in his expression. "You're a disgrace to the force." He scoffed before walking away, repeatedly shaking his head in disgust. "He's gonna eat you alive, you know!"

They both immediately knew what he meant, and they were not happy about it, especially Nick. His eyes shot open before he glared at the beaver, tempted to tackle him to the ground and have his ass beaten for his behavior.

But Judy noticed his rising anger and was quick to hold his arm to prevent him from doing anything, and to help calm him down. "It's not worth it, Nick. Just ignore him." She sighed, leading him away and around the corner.

"Yeah well, he needs to learn when to shut his mouth." Nick huffed in frustration.

"I know, I know." She frowned, rubbing up and down his arm, constantly checking to ensure no one was looking at them. "But this is why I said we need to keep it a secret. There's mammals like him everywhere and we just need to be careful when we're out like this."

Nick sighed, taking a small breath to help relax himself. Even though she was right, he still didn't feel any better about a stranger claiming he would hurt Judy. But there was no point in getting worked up over it, not when he was supposed to be spending quality time with his girlfriend. "I know." He said, staring off to the side.

Judy thought for a moment, grabbing his paws to hold them in hers, since there was no one else around that would see. "Hey, how about we go back to my place? We can act however we want there." She said with a smile, "And we can start deciding where we wanna live."

Well, he definitely couldn't decline that offer. Somehow her voice and her suggestion lifted a crushing weight off of his chest, and he chose to forget all about the beaver that was bothering them a minute ago. The bunny never failed to make him happy.

He smiled and kissed her paw, "Sure, whatever you want."

[fyeah-bangtan7]

j-hope: “Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world”

On April 28, j-hope streamed a Log ( ON ) video of his dance warm-up on BTS’s YouTube channel, BANGTANTV. Over the course of an hour and four minutes, he stretches out his whole body, gradually advances from small motions up to big movements, and demonstrates more of his other techniques. And he didn’t leave out his cooldown exercise, either. This has been j-hope’s life as a BTS member for the past seven years.

A whole lot happened this year. j-hope: Like I said in another interview, it’s been a roller coaster of a year. It started out with our performance at the Grammys, which was really, really, great, and then Map of the Soul: 7 came out, which was great, too, and then it plummeted. With COVID-19 happening, I did a lot of thinking, did some studying, then everyone met “Dynamite” and we had some great results. And the ride repeated. Roller coasters are scary, but you keep thinking about them even after you get off. That’s how I felt about this year: it was scary, but memorable.

One of those memorable things must be how “Dynamite” topped the Billboard Hot 100 but you never had a chance to actually go to the U.S. j-hope: So when we got first place, we couldn’t even check the charts. We were asleep. We checked when we woke up, and there we were, at the top. But then we went straight to work. (laughs) We had to film something here in Korea. It was hard to enjoy ourselves, the whole situation being what it was, but it was all right because we could still enjoy it together.

You must have had a lot on your mind, making BE during this kind of year. j-hope: I tend to think of BTS albums as being a reflection of the whole team, but this time I thought of it as putting in the stories I wanted to tell, making it my music and infusing myself into the new album while still being a BTS album. It turned out to be right at home with BTS’s color, and the whole team’s energy led to an even bigger synergy.

What made you think to go in that direction? j-hope: We started this album off by getting together and asking what kind of story we wanted to tell. The end result of that conversation was, “Well, hey, we still have to live with this situation; we can’t give up.” And from there, “Life Goes On” was born, and then we got to work on the stories we each wanted to tell. I think it sounds more raw, since we tried to capture the emotions we felt living through the pandemic.

I imagine you each had a lot of songs you wanted to include, and that your opinions were probably all a bit different. How did you compromise on the final product? j-hope: None of us made any kind of plan. We’d listen to a track and someone would ask, “Hey, anybody wanna give this a try?” and someone else would say, “Me! I’ll do it.” We just did it that way. There were clashes, too. When each person starts to speak louder, it’s hard to find a common ground. But we’ve always been good at communicating with one another, and we know when to back down or be gracious, so everything went smoothly including planning for the unit songs.

How did each of you choose your songs? You put “Dis-ease” on the album. j-hope: There’s one song where we were working in the studio and someone said, “That track wasn’t very good, was it? Jung Kook’s one before was better” and we’d switch on the spot. The song would be done recording and we talked to the label and ended up switching it out. We listened to it all together and said, “What about this?” And that’s how we decided. So then “Life Goes On” was done, and I wasn’t sure if “Dis-ease” would be on the album. We gave the seven songs from each member to Jimin, who was project manager, and he suggested we listen to them first and then get feedback from people inside the company. I think it was one of the stories each member could feel was his own.”

Where did you get the idea for the theme of “Dis-ease”? j-hope: First, I wanted to get into the mindset that this song is a sickness. When I make a song, I work on the chorus first, and then move onto the first verse. When I had only finished the chorus the song felt upbeat, but I thought the overall theme shouldn’t be too playful. That wouldn’t reflect how I felt. But while the theme of “Dis-ease” itself isn’t very light, when it fuses with the beat, it feels as if the song is trying to get over itself and stay positive. So I threw some scratching into the chorus and put in some “bbyap bbyap bbayp” and then started to think, “Aha! I’d better call this song ‘Dis-ease.’ ”

I didn’t expect you to write a song portraying your love–hate relationship with your work as a disease. A lot of people would expect you to have a positive, hopeful attitude, given your name. j-hope: I was too busy to ever give much thought about the work itself. But, as you know, that suddenly changed, and there was a lot we could no longer do. When I was working, I’d say, “Ugh, I need a break,” but then we took time off and the words, “Ugh, I want to work,” jumped out of my mouth! That’s what made me think more closely: “Why is this bothering me? I have a chance to rest—just take it. Why do I feel like I need to work under these circumstances? Is this an occupational disease?” I felt like this was a part of me that I could express at this point in time.

This is the first time in your lyrics I’ve heard how hard you push yourself to be successful. It made me wonder about the burden you felt about work over the past seven years. j-hope: Out of habit, I would say, “I’m okay; I have hope,” and keep working, but I think I was just avoiding my work-related problems rather than facing them head on. The nice thing about music is that I can say what’s on my mind, even feeling of sadness or depression, in beautiful ways. I don’t usually express those feelings but this time I wanted to try.

It sounds like you have lots of different thoughts about work. j-hope: With my work? Well, actually, I’m not sure. Work is kind of an ugly duckling. Work gives me good energy but there’s energy you get from resting. But someone like me feels alive when they’re working, so I need to keep moving and keep doing. I feel anxious when I stop and content when I go. Every once in a while I don’t want to work, but I can’t not work.

You’re saying you and work go well together? j-hope: Exactly. It’s easier just to think simple. If you think too hard, that’s when things get difficult. Because I’m me, I can’t just keep it simple all the time, but I’m trying my hardest to do my best.

Thinking simple isn’t always so simple. j-hope: Yeah. Maybe it’s because I don’t have many problems to deal with. I feel uncertainty because of that. Uncertain about how my identity will be affected if I do encounter some great hardship.

BTS has faced a lot of hardship, though, right? j-hope: That is also true. (laughs) But the team wouldn’t have kept going if it’d just been me cheering ourselves on. We’re possible because we all think the same way. I wonder if we would’ve been able to come this far if it was just me saying, “Let’s go, guys!” That’s why I’m even more thankful to the other members.

What do those emotional changes affect your music? j-hope: I didn’t want to make an overly cheery song this time. I thought it would be best to do some softer songs about the way I was feeling this whole time, so I chose “Dis-ease” as well as “Fly to My Room.” The other members also thought, “Yeah, we’ve done a lot of bright songs, so it should be fine if we try it this way, too.” “Blue & Grey” is like that, too. I love that song.

You have a completely different voice when you rap on “Blue & Grey.” Did your rap style also change, along with your emotions? j-hope: I wanted “Blue & Grey” to sound like I was talking, actually. The tone and feel of my voice changes a lot depending on how I vocalize my rap. I noticed that a lot this time. Namjoon actually helped me a ton. His part was after mine, so I turned to him and said, “Maybe it would sound better if I did it like this,” and tried it out. Then I used his advice and found the right sound.

How does it feel moving away from your normal style? j-hope: It’s really refreshing. I thought it wouldn’t work but I think it did after all. And I always thought this was a feel that I wanted to give it a try. For me, BE is sort of like the first step down an unfamiliar path, so there were parts that were challenging, and also parts that were a welcome change.

I think your rap in “Dis-ease” demonstrates that change well. Instead of trying to keep time in the intro, your flow just follows the story. j-hope: I made sure not to overthink anything this time. It ended up sounding natural because I just matched the rhythm of the words as they left my mouth. And it was refreshing because I haven’t done a long verse like in “Dis-ease” in forever. When we rap, there tend to be four or eight-ish lines; I thought I’d try and pack in a verse with sixteen. It also helped because the lyrics came out before many of the other things for this song.

The music makes “Dis-ease” sound upbeat, but then there’s a surprising message: “To be honest, I have this problem.” It’s like you were holding yourself back from crossing a line. j-hope: It was something like that. Shouldn't we stay on this line? Maybe that’s a disease too (laughs). I thought if j-hope leaned too much to one side people might think that’s strange, too. That’s why I tried to stick to my standards, but since I’m also human I also expressed emotions I couldn’t articulate into music.

You don’t want to try and cross that line? j-hope: I’ve thought about it, obviously. I want to, but in my life itself and in my mind, I always think if there’s a line, it shouldn’t be crossed. But I’m becoming more generous to myself about crossing lines when it comes to music.

So you haven’t crossed yet, but right now you want to say, “I have something else,” and go further. j-hope: Yes. This is maybe a time when I really need to. I’ve been lucky because I met great people, had success and reached where I am now. Now that I’m here, I always want to try new things myself and keep growing. That’s why I’m working hard and thinking about what kind of music I should make.

There’s a part in “Fly to My Room” where you sing, “You can change the way you think.” It’s like you were explaining the past seven years of your life. j-hope: It all depends on how you look at it. Say there’s some kind of food. You might feel lonely while eating it by yourself, but if you forget about your loneliness for a minute and think, “There is no difference in food I would be eating out (with other people) anyway,” then it’s just like eating out. So even though I was stuck feeling lonely at home, I started to think of it as another trip instead. I thought of my room as my world, and delivery food as a three-star hotel meal. As you can tell from the title, I worked on that song by thinking about the way I endured this year so far.

And why did you decide to “change the way you think?” j-hope: Because I get a lot of love. Because I’m in this position and in this place, there’s things I have to deal with, and I should do things and think things I am able to bear. I thought about that a lot and accepted it. So I thought about what I could do during these hard times, and how I could help out my friends, my team. I think I’m still going through that process, too, so everything’s an “-ing”, because I might need to know what to do later about what I can do, even if I don’t quite know it yet.

What effect does being surrounded by so much love have on you? j-hope: It’s amazing to be loved by even one person. Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world. And I know this isn’t something to take for granted. I’m so incredibly thankful that sometimes I feel overwhelmed just thinking, ‘Wow, how can I ever return this much love?’ I want to express that in any way possible, every moment I can, because I’m so honored to be so loved that I can’t begin to put it into words.

A little while ago, in an interview with Rolling Stone India, you said that, when you were young, you equated debuting with success. What does success mean to you now, now that you’ve had success after success? j-hope: Success … It’s a simple idea, but it can weigh on you. In all aspects of life, I think success means being satisfied with what you’re able to do.When you lose faith in your work and it starts becoming a chore, that’s when it starts to get depressing.

There are inevitably times when you can’t enjoy it. j-hope: It’s just, you know, it’s really simple. If you can’t do it now, you can always do it later. Do that, and you can put your mind at ease. And I think that’s the secret to living a long, happy life. Anything you can’t do in your 20s, you can just do in your 40s. Of course, there’s going to be stuff you should do now while you’re still (laughs) energetic. But if that’s the position you’re in right now, you just have to ride it out. Try again later if you can’t enjoy yourself now. You’ll probably feel different in the future anyway. Yeah, that was pretty much the key to my self-preservation.

Where do you find the strength to hold on like that? j-hope: From the group, it’s very clear what that is. It’s our fans. ARMY. We had to pull through, for the fans. At any time of any day, the fans come first. I keep thinking about how painful it would be for the fans if we just gloss over something or feel like giving up just because we’re having a hard time. I was 20 when we made our debut. I didn’t know much about having a social life, but the messages our fans sent were a big comfort and gave us hope. I learned a lot just by reading fan letters and understanding the kind of thoughts they had. Fans and artists really are one and the same.

That makes me think of a line from “Life Goes On”: “People say the world has changed but thankfully between you and me, nothing has changed.” j-hope: Yes, right. I thought that line expressed the feeling really well as soon as I first heard it. Yoongi wrote that. He is really good. (laughs) I think that describes our relationship with our fans.

© source

[everettlance]

instructions for dancing // self-para

It didn’t take long for Everett to find Maverick. They shared a floor in the Tower; technically Maverick’s stuff was still in his room, the trainer’s room, on the second floor, and he had to return sometime if only to grab his bag before retreating back to Seven.

Mav hadn’t been hiding. He’d just spent the day before primarily with Alder, which happened to be on the seventh floor and not the second. In part, he wanted to keep the conversation with Everett at bay for as long as he could. He had to get his head straight, figure out what the hell he was going to say, how he was going to explain himself. He knew that Everett would see his being with Alder as a betrayal, but he had never meant to betray him, had never meant to hurt him — he’d been dead, that was a pretty good fucking defense, wasn’t it? And sure, he’d been wracked with guilt for it, on and off, had hesitated as long as he did before admitting his own feelings to himself because Alder was, after all, Everett’s killer.

But if Mav had been taught anything, any core value, at the Academy, it was that the Games were a different world. They were a world in which you could kill and be lauded. On the outside, killing was a punishable offense, would get you thrown in jail or worse, facing down the firing squad. But in the Arena it was different. The rules were erased. Alder had had no choice.

Everett had shot first.

Of course Maverick missed his best friend, of course he fuckng did. It had been 18 months of grief and mourning, the sort that could ebb but never entirely leave him. He knew he’d never have full peace nor would he be able to forget Everett. Ev was his first for so many things. His first friend, his first crush, his first love. Though the feelings of infatuation could and did fade, he maintained love for him in his heart and knew that he always would. The fact that he was back now in a new body identical to his old one didn’t change it. He was his best friend. He always had been. Everett knew parts of Maverick that he had never shown to anyone before Alder. That was significant.

But it didn’t make it any easier when he was finally faced with Everett, who was standing in the lounge, wearing the Capitol-issued pants and t-shirt that they gave to the tributes for training. Maverick had just wanted to grab his things, to get changed before heading down to the training center to begin work. (Not that he wanted to train anyone else. He selfishly wanted to give only Everett a chance. It was the least he could do for the guy who had died for him. The guy who had died so he could live.)

“Sorry,” were the first words from his lips, while Everett stared as if he were the one seeing the ghost. The ‘sorry’ wasn’t meant to cover everything, but rather, what you say when you’ve interrupted someone, when you want to excuse your presence and move on as quickly as possible. If Maverick didn’t make a move to continue to his room, then it was because of Everett’s stare, which seemed to somehow pierce through him and pin him to the wall.

It was the stare of someone who knew.

“Sorry?” Everett repeated, his tone tilting up at the end, turning it into much more of a question, one that asked everything he wanted to know. Jeanine had pointed out that he had been dead, that it couldn’t be out of spite that Mav would be with Alder because he was simply gone, and he could fathom the idea that the entire world didn’t revolve around him but he couldn’t put these pieces together. Each of them had jagged edges: Maverick was dating Alder, had been for a year or so, as far as Everett could tell; Alder had killed Everett.

There was room inside of him for many things. For guilt at his own killing: Carlos. Travela. Memphis. Marino. His first two kills had been in the bloodbath, had been in a moment of panic, he’d been swept up in it all. But those last two… he had known them both, talked to them both. Memphis had simply been in his way. Marino had been an accident.

The dart was meant for Alder, but Everett was not an idiot, he knew what he’d have done had it met its target. His sights would have shifted to the other boy. He was a killer. He had simply wanted to survive.

Somewhere he knew that it was possible that Alder had wanted the same. Or maybe he’d just wanted revenge for Marino. But Everett had talked to Alder, he fucking knew him, was it possible that he and Maverick could really have something together?

“Okay, I assume you found out about Alder and me,” Maverick said, stepping forward, his hands up like he was proclaiming his innocence with the gesture while simultaneously revoking it with his very statement.

“Cain told me.” The words clipped, short. Everett could do nothing but stare. Maverick looked older, his hair was longer, his edges seemed softer somehow, how was that possible? The world had only ever made either of them harder.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you myself.”

“So you avoided me.”

“You avoided me too.”

They had always been too similar. Growing up you become a mirror of the people around you and attached at the hip as they’d been, they couldn’t help but grow in the same way, towards the same source of light. Both of them clinging to the violence they were taught to speak in. Was that what Maverick did with Alder?

“I wanted to find you,” Maverick said, “I wanted to teach you some stuff—” He hadn’t planned the words, hadn’t really thought about it, but it was true. He wanted to work with Everett. He’d watched his every move in the Games enough times that he knew exactly where his weak spots were. With three days of training, he could strengthen those places, if Everett would let him.

“I don’t need to learn anything.” Everett was aware of his own weak spots, of course he was, he’d gotten killed. You don’t die and think yourself a god.

“Why did you volunteer?” The question came from Maverick’s lips almost unbidden, and yet it felt like it’d sat there for 18 months, waiting to be spoken. To speak it at last was a relief; to face down a potential response, less so.

“I have no fucking idea.” Everett’s gaze faltered, he looked away finally. “Why the fuck did you kiss me?”

“Why did you kiss Orpheus?”

There were too many questions. Too much confusion on both sides. The air between them was filled with it. The uncertainty too thick to wade through. It’d take more than a few days. It’d take more than a few years.

“You don’t know Alder,” Maverick said, as if the conversation were progressing in any linear way. “He’s different from the person you met.”

“He killed me.”

“He was in the Arena.” A pause. It didn’t feel like enough. “And believe me, I fucking hated him at first.”

“So what changed? You’re his boyfriend now.”

“I got to know him.” Maverick couldn’t plead with Everett to understand, didn’t need him to understand. He’d already made his peace with the fact that he’d never have Everett’s blessing, though the reason used to be because Everett himself was dead. The dead do not forgive, they don’t have the capacity. Perhaps the living didn’t forgive either.

That would need to be okay.

“Why?” Everett had meant the word to be like a dagger, the weapon he’d wielded through the Games, the one he’d have killed Alder with. But it wasn’t as sharp. He was looking for answers, not looking for another kill.

“I didn’t mean to,” Maverick said, not wanting to apologize and yet knowing that Everett was owed at least a partial explanation. “I swear, I never set out looking for him except to beat his ass at his Victor’s Ball. I was pissed. So fucking pissed. But — you know, you volunteered, too, I was pissed at you.” His gaze tried to find Everett’s but Everett couldn’t look at him directly, the question of his own volunteering too difficult to face.

“You might have died,” Everett said. The conversation’s veering off its intended path was typical for them, often on the same wavelength growing up, not needing to draw one another a map to get from one thought to the next. Even now it was easy to find old patterns.

“I might not have.” Maverick knew that surviving meant Alder’s death, though. He knew that he owed Everett a thank you.

“I couldn’t just let you die,” Everett said, stepping around Maverick’s statement. “Because you — you, I mean, you could have been, you can be somebody, but I was just gonna be a Peacekeeper, just a brute. Just a no one. You could have done anything. It’s not — I’m not like some martyr or some shit, I didn’t even think it through, Mav, I just… you fucking kissed me, you dick, and I — I don’t know, next to you, who the fuck am I, what the fuck am I? I’m just a stupid fucking soldier.”

It wasn’t true, Maverick didn’t think any of it was true, Everett had never just been a soldier, nor was he a brute. He was a person. Just as capable of great things as Maverick was himself. But Mav’s great thing was going to be the Games. It was going to be a Victory. Enough time had passed that he wasn’t still angry with Everett for taking that away, but there was still a place in him that held something akin to resentment. Resentment for the fact that he had made the choice for both of them. Resentment that he’d done the right thing when Maverick wouldn’t. Resentment that he’d died. The tangle of it was too much.

“You’re not a stupid fucking soldier,” Maverick said, “you’re a stupid fucking volunteer.”

“This time I didn’t ask for it.” There was almost pride in Everett’s voice. Pride that he’d been thrust here without making the decision for himself. Maverick knew that pride masked something else, something much more real.

When had Everett been given a choice? When in his life had he been allowed to decide his own fate? Only once. Only once, and he’d died.

“You gonna train me?” Everett asked after a silence. “I heard you work at the Academy.”

Maverick didn’t know if he should be ashamed of that or not. He never had been before, not around anyone from Two, but was this what Everett tried to give him when he’d volunteered? Was this the ‘more’ of which he was supposedly so capable? He felt, for a moment, like he’d been given a gift and had squandered it.

“I do,” he said, “I brought home a Victor. I can do it again.”

Everett shook his head, just once. “You can train me, but don’t expect shit.”

Maverick wasn’t sure what that meant. What would he expect? A Victory? A willing participant?

“We’ll see,” he said, knowing that they hadn’t come to any conclusion, that nothing had been decided or resolved. But that was okay, it didn’t need to. For now, it was time to train. “I’ll see you downstairs in ten. No, five. Be ready to fucking work.”

[emotionally-imbruised]

A Tail of Their Own

In which Y/N is a mermaid and Harry doesn’t know what to do.

Word count: 9.2k

Keep going. Don’t look back, just keep going.

Despite how many times Y/N repeated that same phrase in her mind over and over again, she still had to fight the urge to look behind her. Were they close? Did she lose them? No, there’s no way they would have given up on pursuing her so quickly, and that thought alone made her swim even faster.

There were two of them that much Y/N knew. She had seen them both, a merman and merwoman lurking about nearby whenever she left her reef to go meet with the royals, but never really thought anything of it. Never thought it would lead to this.

Open water was never the best form of protection, but Y/N knew that if she kept pushing herself, she might be able to get away. She was tired though, swimming nonstop was draining, and it was getting to the point where the young mermaid was unsure of how much longer she could keep going — but she continued to push herself.

As if Poseidon himself had heard her thoughts, a large underwater grotto appeared in the distance, making Y/N swim towards it faster than she’d ever swam before. She didn’t realize just how close to the land she was getting at that point, but nonetheless, the cave provided temporary solace, and that was one thing she craved.

Once inside, Y/N almost let herself collapse in exhaustion. While gripping onto the rough rock walls of the cavern to prevent herself from sinking down to the ocean’s floor, she quickly let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding before continuing on. She had to keep moving.

She dipped through various nooks and crannies to get deeper into the cave. However, the further she went, the less she could see. Her surroundings were becoming much darker with each passing second, and Y/N knew she’d have to stop. With a large gulp, she froze at the entrance of what resembled a black hole of some sort; deciding it’d be best to stay where she was rather than to keep going and possibly come face to face with a sea creature that could be residing in the same hiding place.

Just as Y/N was considering her next move, voices started echoing through the grotto.

“Do you think she went in there?” A male voice asked, and caused Y/N’s heart to plummet into the pit of her stomach. They caught up to her.

“Of course I think she went in there, where else would she go?” The other mermaid snapped at her partner as panic took over Y/N entirely. The two of them began calling out her name, taunting her, stating how things would have been easier for all of them if she hadn’t run (swam) away from the royals. But what other choice did Y/N have? There wasn’t one, because if there were, she wouldn’t have been in such a predicament.

Y/N looked around for where she could go and frowned at the limited options she had. Her first other option was to go into the black hole, which she ultimately decided against because it would more than likely just make everything worse. The second option was to go back the way she came. Back through the cave, and towards the two that were there searching for her. It was dangerous, yes, but maybe there were other ways in the cavern for her to go around and avoid them altogether. It was a risk she knew she had to take, so with another gulp, she started swimming towards them.

The way the other two wouldn’t stop bickering with one another actually gave Y/N a bit of an advantage. She’d listen to their voices as an attempt to pinpoint how far away they were, and it actually was working right up until she came to a dead-end. Right after taking a sharp left when she felt the others were too close for comfort, Y/N found herself in a small den-like area with no other place to go. The large rocks surrounding her were slick and covered with kelp, which hid any different possible escape route she could take and left her stuck. She bit down on her bottom lip nervously and went to turn back around, but had to halt her movements when one of the other mermaids spoke up again.

“Hey fish face, I think she went this way,” the female said from what sounded to be just on the other side of the rock wall Y/N was instinctively pressing her back against.

“What makes you think that?” The merman asked, seemingly just as close.

Although Y/N wasn’t exactly a fan of the way the kelp felt slippery and slimy against her skin, it did provide her with a bit of camouflage and kept her out of sight. She stayed still and waited for any indication that the other two had gone a different way, but much to her dismay, the two swam right into her view, and she was finally able to get a good look at them.  

The first thing that caught Y/N’s eyes when she first saw them before fleeing her home was the deep red colour of their tails. She had only ever seen a handful of mermaid’s with a similar colour of tail, so naturally, it caught her attention. But now that she was really studying them, she picked up on other physical similarities the other two shared. Both had jet black hair, pale skin, deep brown eyes, and many other features that were alike. The two had to be related in some way, Y/N decided.

“Look at this,” the other mermaid spoke up again as she swam a little further, coming to a stop and reaching down to pick up a shiny object Y/N hadn’t noticed to be there before. “Think it’s hers?”

The mermaid held up a silver hairpin with a seashell on the end of it, which caused Y/N’s eyes to widen and her hand to immediately reach up to touch the now single hairpin that still remained in her hair. She let her fingers trace over the small metal starfish at the end of the pin before sighing in defeat, accepting the fact that she had just lost part of the unique hairpin set her mother gave her when she was a little girl.

Part of her wanted to just push away from the wall so she could snatch the item back and continue on her way, but that was too dangerous, and Y/N knew better. So instead, she watched the two mermaids examine her pin before deciding to resume their search further into the cave.

Y/N remained unmoving from her spot for a few moments until she felt it was safe enough to continue on. Once she was brave enough to go, the mermaid made her way out of the grotto entirely and tried to think of a plan. Surely she didn’t have much time to find another place to hide because soon enough, the other mermaids would give up their hunt in the cave and swim back out as well.

Unsure of where she could possibly go, Y/N swam along the outer part of the grotto, muttering a quick sorry as she went through a bloom of jellyfish and accidentally startled an old sea turtle from its slumber. Once she was a reasonable distance away from the cave, Y/N finally noticed that she was in much shallower water. She had paid no attention to how close the shore was getting during her escape and cursed herself for being so careless because now her options were even more limited.

Luckily enough, there wasn’t any sign of the other mermaids just yet. Maybe she actually managed to lose them, but regardless, Y/N knew she had to keep going.

The water became much warmer as Y/N got closer to land and provided her a comforting feeling, which eventually allowed her to relax. 

Y/N knew these waters quite well, and if she was correct, Y/N was about 98% sure she was just off the coast of California. However, there was no way to actually tell so with one final glance around to see if she was still being followed or not, Y/N decided to swim to the surface to confirm her theory.

One thing Y/N knew very well about the ocean, was how deceiving it could be. She knew more about the earth’s bodies of water than any human did, having explored them herself extensively during her short 23-years of life -- and even then, there were still parts she’d never seen. Areas she’d never consider going to because there was no way of knowing what it’s deepest depths held, and frankly, sometimes it was best to be left that way.

Y/N was also aware of how peaceful the ocean can seem from the surface above, for the surface hides everything that is below it. However, that illusion works both ways, and soon enough Y/N found herself caught up in a severe storm she didn’t even know was happening once she broke through the intense waves.

Strong winds and heavy rainfall made it almost impossible for Y/N to make any sense of where she was. Massive tidal waves formed, then crashed in the distance and created a wicked tide that involuntarily pushed her closer and closer to shore. In the distance, the lights of the city bordering the coast could just barely be seen due to the poor weather conditions, which ultimately resulted in Y/N decided to just go back underwater until the storm passed.

Taking an unnecessarily long breath, Y/N dipped beneath the waves again and started swimming away from the surface entirely. However, after only making it a few feet, a panicked noise sounded from nearby and caused her to refrain from going any further. She wasn’t that deep in the water, so the undertow was still quite aggressive from the storm going on above and continued pushing her in the direction of the shore. But, Y/N still waited a minute to see if the noise would occur again, and unsurprisingly, it did.

The mermaid looked in the direction the sound had come from and saw a fully grown elephant seal swimming around in distress near the surface. Upon further observation, Y/N noticed that above the seal was a large torn up fishing net, and tangled in it was a seal pup. The entire scene was hard for Y/N to look at, and she knew she had to help in one way or another.

Cautiously, Y/N swam towards the adult seal and waited for it to notice her. Once it did, the creature became visibly calmer and looked back up at its tangled pup; almost as though it silently pleading for assistance. With a simple nod, Y/N then swam back up to the surface and got to work.

It was challenging for her to get a good hold of the net for with each wave, everything was shifted. The pup would whine each time it was pushed further from its mother, which only broke Y/N’s heart even more as she watched it helplessly struggle against its restraints. Without giving much thought to what she was doing, Y/N carefully wrapped her arm around the pup to bring it under the water entirely and close to her chest.

Parts of the net brushed against Y/N’s skin and tail as it slowly began surrounding her beneath the water, but she paid no attention to it as she focused on freeing the little seal all while trying to keep herself from getting swept away in the tide. Eventually, she was able to rip a large enough hole in the netting so that the pup could free itself and swim away to be reunited with its mother.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two seals greet each other excitedly and look back towards her as if to say thanks, before swimming away and disappearing into the depths of the Pacific. Just as she was about to do the same, Y/N moved no more than an inch only to find that she was now completely encased in the fishnet. There was no longer an open spot in the netting below that would allow her to swim away, which left her panicking slightly.

The way the net continued moving in the harsh waves, made it even more difficult for Y/N to find a way out; and she could also feel the material tangling around her even more whenever she struggled against it. Without any other options, Y/N let herself float to the surface in hopes the net would untangle itself in the process. However, that didn’t happen at all.

Once she breached the surface again, Y/N realized she was now extremely close to land. Even in the dark, she was able to make out a massive pier in the distance and the large rocks below that the waves continued crashing into. The subtle panic Y/N had already been feeling reached an all-time high as the shore kept getting closer, and she still was unable to remove herself from the fishing net.

The waves seemed to be getting more extensive and aggressive. Each time they crashed over Y/N and unwantedly moved her around, she felt the chances of her getting out of her predicament grow slim. She was above water one second, and beneath it the next; spiraling out of control and with no way out.

Despite how helpless she felt, Y/N still fought to free herself, and after a few more moments of struggling, she was finally able to rip another hole in the net. A sigh of relief left her mouth as she tore the hole more so that she could squirm away from the tangled mess just like the seal had, and she was almost able to do just that... until her fin got caught again at the very last second.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She groaned to herself as she started flipping her tail around in attempts to get the net off all over again; feeling more than fed up with everything at that moment. Y/N was pretty well on the shore at that point. If she swam down just a little bit, she’d be able to touch the ocean floor seeing as it really wasn’t that deep; which she decided to use to her advantage.

Y/N let the tide take her a little closer to shore all while keeping her eye on a large rock that was fast approaching. Once she was close enough, she reached out to grab ahold of the stone to keep herself still against the current as she removed the last part of fishnet, but unfortunately, missed it completely. There wasn’t even time for Y/N to curse herself for missing the rock for the next thing she knew, she was coming face to face with another one, fast. She couldn’t even react to the oncoming foundation, let alone look for a spot she could possibly grab ahold of for the next thing Y/N knew, she was crashing into it.

Pain rippled through her entire body as she came in contact with the sturdy piece of earth, causing her to tumble around uncontrollably with no hopes of stopping... that was until her head came in contact with something hard, and everything went black.

Y/N thought she heard voices, which is originally what made her eventually come to her senses. However, she had no desire to open her eyes just yet.

The sound of seagulls annoyingly squawking at one another as they flew overhead made Y/N’s head throb even more as she rolled onto her side and let out a loud groan. She hid her face into the crook of her forearm to block out the beating sun, shifting again uncomfortably as she felt the damp sand sticking to her skin.

She was no longer in the ocean but was near it. The tide was much calmer compared to how it was the night before and provided some temporary relief as it brushed against the tip of her tail before fading back into the waves.

The fact that Y/N’s tail was still visible and hadn’t been replaced with legs yet like it usually would whenever she was out of the water made her think that maybe she hadn’t been on land for too long. Regardless, she couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it anyways as she remained unmoving from her spot.

A nagging thought in the back of her mind told her over and over again that she should move before she was seen by a human, however, she ignored it. Her escape route was no more than ten feet away from where she laid, and if a human did find her, she’d be able to escape back to the water with ease.

A few moments passed before Y/N heard the voices that originally woke her up again, and opened her eyes in red alert.

“Do you think she’s dead?” A male voice asked, followed by the sounds of various grunts as two sets of footsteps approached where Y/N was laying.

“Mitch!” A female voice hissed aggravatedly. “You’re a downright knob sometimes, you know that?”

“Well, she isn’t moving!” The man defended.

“Well, maybe she needs help!!”

Help. Did Y/N need help? She couldn’t decide as she listened to the two people grow closer before nervousness took over her, and she finally decided to get the heck out of there.

Slowly, she sat up and got a good look at where she was. The pier she almost crashed into the night before was way off to the right, proving that somehow she’d drifted to her current spot after losing consciousness. It was a tranquil area of the beach, didn’t seem to have any public access but yet, here were two people climbing over the large rocks towards her anyways.

The pair must’ve seen her from the nearby trails. There was no one else walking the paths as Y/N looked over at them, but she was able to spot a few different places where someone just walking by could easily see an unconscious mermaid lying in the sand… Oh shit.

Y/N started to panic then, cursing herself for not listening to her nagging thoughts and just going back into the water. What if they saw her tail? Humans were not supposed to know about mermaids. It was that simple. But… here she was, tail and all, with two of them way too close for comfort.

Just get in the water.

It was the only solution. Y/N knew that… and she was about to start scooting back towards the ocean to do so until something caught her eye and caused her to freeze.

A ways off the coast was two people treading in deep water and looking directly at her. If Y/N hadn’t known better, she would have assumed it was just two humans being risk-takers and going further out into the water than they were supposed to. However, that wasn’t the case, and Y/N was well aware that she now facing the two mermaids that had spent the entire night chasing her.

She couldn’t go back in the water, she just couldn’t. But could she expose what she was to these two humans who were no more than a minute from seeing a creature they’ve only heard from in fictional stories? It was a stressful call to make, but with a deep resentful sigh, Y/N stayed put.

The voices of the humans grew much louder as they got closer to where Y/N was sat. They were still bickering, but both became silent once they climbed over the last bit of rocks and saw everything.

Y/N didn’t even want to look at them. She already felt sick to her stomach just thinking about what could possibly be going through their minds right now seeing a full ass mermaid on display. But, they didn’t leave. Almost as if they weren’t disgusted or afraid.

“Oh my god,” the woman said and slowly reached down to grab ahold of the man's arm to steady herself as she stumbled to a stop. “Am I- is this real?”

Her words caught Y/N off guard, and she finally decided to look towards the couple. They both stared at her in awe, but also made no move to run away in fear and warn the other humans. So, Y/N took that time to study them a little.

The woman had longish brown hair that was tied back into a ponytail to keep away from her face. She wore a simple white T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, and wouldn’t stop smacking the man's arm while pointing towards Y/N.

“Do you see this?”

The man was entirely still. He too was wearing an effortless outfit that was paired with a black baseball cap and some dark sunglasses. His expression was unreadable as he reached up to rub his thumb and pointer finger over his scruffy moustache in thought, before turning to walk away.

“Not my problem,” he muttered as the girl looked at him in utter disbelief.

“Mitch, we can't just leave her here. We gotta tell someone.” The woman said, and Y/N’s anxiousness returned.

“No, no, no, please don’t,” Y/N pleaded as she started shaking her head. However, as she did that, the pain in her skull began to throb, and she had to still her movements as she waited for the soreness to subside.

The couple watched the mermaid hunch over in agony, observing the way she gripped onto her head in attempts to relieve whatever pain she was feeling. After a moment, Y/N stilled and let out a few exhausted breaths.

A wave of concern washed over the woman as she started climbing down the rocks and cautiously approached Y/N, despite the man telling her not to.

The sudden presence beside her caused Y/N to jump, but she didn’t move away from the woman. Despite being afraid of humans, she didn’t feel threatened by this particular one.

The woman took in Y/N’s current condition with an emphatic look. Various cuts and bruises were littering her skin, with a nasty looking gash on her rib cage just under the white seashell bra she wore, and the remnants of a torn-up fishing net wrapped around her tail. To put it nicely, she looked like she had gone through hell and back, and the woman thought that maybe she could use some help.

She crouched down slowly and locked eye contact with Y/N, visibly being able to see just how tense the mermaid was before taking a deep breath and finally speaking up again. “Are you hurt?”

Although slightly hesitant in doing so at first, Y/N nodded; not removing her hand from where she applied pressure to her temple to keep the discomforting ache at bay.

“What happened to you?”

“Got caught in the storm last night while I was too close to shore,” Y/N explained and gestured to all the seaweed and other debris that was scattered around her. “Looks like I wasn’t the only thing that got washed up.”

At this point, the man had joined them as well but continued looking at her with a blank expression. “So, you’re an actual mermaid?”

“Well, kind of,” Y/N explained, her face contorting in pain again as she nodded and the throbbing returned.

“Hit your head pretty hard, huh?” The woman asked with a slight frown, before widening her eyes at her statement. “Not to say that you’re crazy or delusional or anything of that sort. Just that you seem to be hurt and you keep clutching your head and...”

The woman’s sudden worry of being offensive made Y/N chuckle and she soon decided that she liked these humans. “It’s alright, I knew what you meant. But yes. Hit it hard enough to knock myself out and end up on land.”

The two of them nodded slowly in understanding, very clearly still trying to wrap their heads around the entire situation, but still actually listening to what Y/N tells them.

“So, uh,” the man started and shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. “Do you need help getting back to the water? I don’t really know what to do in this situation.”

“I-.” Y/N cut herself off as she flickered her gaze to the two mermaids in the distance and swallowed thickly. “I was actually thinking of staying on land for a bit. You know, uh, until I feel better.”

“Can you be on land? Is that a thing?” The woman asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, I can function just fine on land,” Y/N explained. “There’s a reason why you humans don’t know we exist. We’re very good at blending in.”

“Ok, and do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No, I just need to get away from here I think,” she continued before glancing back to the man and woman. “I think sleep will do me best.”

“Alright, you can come with us then,” the woman stated as she stood up straight and ignored the glare the man was giving her. “Once we figure out this whole tail situation, that is.”

“Sarah.” The man snapped quietly and looked at her disbelieving as if Y/N wasn’t there. “Where exactly do you plan on taking her?”

“Harry’s,” she stated with a shrug, earning a scoff from the man as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Not like we can bring her to London with us.”

“I know that, but we can’t just leave her there.”

“Why not? I don’t think Harry will mind.”

Y/N watched the two converse, unsure of who or what they were talking about but just brushed it off and let them continue. After a few moments went by, she decided to clear her throat and remind them of her presence.

The two snapped their gazes to her and waited for her to say something. “Would uh, would either of you have a towel by chance?”

The girl, Sarah, nodded before reaching into the large bag she was holding and pulling out a vibrantly coloured beach towel. She handed it to Y/N before turning back to Mitch and continuing their discussion.

While they weren’t looking, Y/N started drying her tail off. Her scales were only damp by this point, so it took her way less time to actually rid her body of any water resting on it. Once she was done, Y/N wrapped the towel around her lower body and waited.

It had been a while since she’d done this, but Y/N recognized the familiar tingling sensation she only felt whenever her tail was about to turn into a set of human legs. The feeling of her scales fading away only to be replaced with skin, muscle, and bone was always strange to her. She never watched the actual transition for it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to see, hence the towel covering her entire lower half, but soon enough the whole thing was over, and she was left staring at a pair of feet where her tail fin once resided.

Neither Sarah or Mitch had noticed what had just gone on as they continued disagreeing on where they’d take the mermaid, but that soon changed when Y/N stood up from the ground and they both fell silent again. Slightly more shocked than before.

“Uh when we turn into our human form, we don’t have any clothes,” Y/N told them and tightened the towel around her waist so nothing would show. “It’s a bit of a downfall, I guess.”

“What is happening right now?” Mitch whispered as he leaned into Sarah a little bit, while she just shook her head.

“That’s,” she started, but paused as if to gather her thoughts before continuing. “I don’t even know.”

“Would either of you have some extra clothes by chance?” Y/N asked, slightly embarrassed.

“You can have these,” Sarah responded and pulled out another pair of shorts and a T-shirt from her bag, ripping off the tags before tossing them to Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Sarah and Mitch turned their backs to Y/N so she could have a bit of privacy as she put the clothes on. Once she was done getting dressed, she removed her shell bra and hid it behind a rock; hoping that maybe she could find it there later on need be. She then unwrapped the towel and folded it up, holding it tight against her chest before turning back to face the ocean.

The two other mermaids hadn’t moved from their spot and continued staring at her. Only the top part of their heads remained above the water, which left Y/N feeling very uncomfortable as their gazes burned into her. However, she didn’t waver. She stared right back at them and dared them to do something. Neither of them did, nor did they break eye contact until a voice spoke up from behind Y/N.

“Ready to go?” Sarah asked with a warm smile as Y/N turned to look at her.

“Yeah, let's get out of here.”

The three of them started heading towards the trails again and make way to a nearby parking lot. Y/N had no idea where they were taking her, but it seemed safer than being in the ocean with those other mermaids lurking off the coast. There’s no way Y/N would have been able to avoid them in her current state, so this was ultimately the best option, which made her less anxious. However, she still had a terrible feeling of it all when she glanced back to the water just in time to see two crimson red tails disappear beneath the waves.

It was a short drive through Los Angeles from the beach to the house Mitch and Sarah were soon pulling into the driveway of, but seemed much longer to Y/N.

With it being quite some time since she had last spent more than an hour or two on land, and in more than one place as well, Y/N was quite intrigued. She watched out the car window with an amused expression as she observed the palm trees, buildings, and people they drove past; taking it all in and smiling when she’d see something completely out of the ordinary.

Part of her still worried that these two may try taking her to a hospital, which Y/N knew would only end badly, but those thoughts went away when they turned down another road and started driving through a lovely community. The houses were large and very fancy looking, nothing like she’d seen way back when she actually did live on land, which left her awestruck.

The house the three of them came to a stop at was no exception either. It was just as large as the others, but it wasn’t as flashy. There was much more of a simplistic vibe to it but was still absolutely stunning.

Mitch and Sarah lead her into this house, unlocking it with a key they had all while continuing their conversation about whether they should actually be doing this or not. Y/N however, was too amazed to be bothered by anything they were saying.

The inside of the house was even more stunning than the outside. White marble flooring went as far as she could see, only disappearing at the doorway to another room and at the edge of the large staircase that leads to the second floor. Beyond the foyer, she could see what looked to be a kitchen at the other end of the hallway. Dark hardwood flooring that matched the colour of the stairs met the marble and covered what she could see from the room. Some giant windows let the sunshine through brightly. That alone paired with the various pieces of artwork and photos that covered the walls gave off a warm and welcoming feeling, which Y/N liked a lot.

Mitch and Sarah stepped further into the home and walked towards the kitchen. Y/N however, stayed put. She brushed her bare feet against the mat she was standing on, not wanting to trail any sand through the house before finally stepping onto the cold marble.

The pictures on the walls are what caught her attention first. They displayed different things and places, some being very random, but still beautiful nonetheless. She then migrated towards the staircase, looking up to the next floor as she went. What could possibly be up there sparked Y/N’s curiosity, but she knew she was in no place to explore some stranger's home.

“You can go up there,” Sarah’s voice snapped her out of her trance. “There are a few bedrooms up there, you can choose one to rest in if you’d like.”

“Oh, that’d be great. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sarah smiled before handing Y/N a large bandage. “This is for the cut on your ribs, might want to cover it up before it gets infected or something.”

Y/N nodded as she took the bandage from her. “Thank you again. For everything.”

“You’re quite welcome,” she told her nicely. “Now why don’t you go get some sleep, yeah? You must be exhausted from the night you had. Mitch and I may not be here when you wake up, we have to go, but our friend who lives here should be back soon. He’s very kind. I’m going to try to explain everything to him, but he’s not someone you should be afraid of by any means.”

“Ok,” Y/N responded, trusting everything she’d just been told. “I’ll head up there now then. It was nice meeting you, Sarah. I’m Y/N, by the way, and please do thank Mitch for me as well.”

“I will. Good luck with everything, Y/N.”

The two then parted ways as Y/N went upstairs and Sarah returned to the kitchen. Once she was on the second floor, Y/N opened the first door on her right and crashed onto the large bed that resided in the room; not bothering to take a look at anything in it as she made her way to the bed.

The throbbing hadn’t gone away. There was still a dull ache in the back of her head from where she hit it before being washed up on shore, and it didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. She tried to ignore it though, and focus on the comfort she was feeling by resting in the large bed she took over rather than think about the pain.

Still refusing to open her eyes, Y/N rolled onto her side and curled up into the mountain of fluffy pillows in attempts to actually get some rest. The faint scent of cologne engulfed her in a somewhat comforting way when it mixed with the familiar smell of saltwater that still remained in her hair, and with it, she was soon able to fall asleep... not hearing the conversation that ensued downstairs.

“He’s going to lose his shit once he gets home, Sarah,” Mitch started as soon as his girlfriend stepped back into the kitchen of his best friend's home. “We should have just left her, or called the cops, or something.”

“If we called anyone it would have created a bigger mess than this already is,” she argued. “Mermaids aren’t real, or so we thought. Could you imagine what would have happened if someone found her that didn’t want to help? Who knows where she could’ve ended up?”

“Again, that wouldn’t have been our problem.”

“We couldn’t just leave her, Mitch. There was a reason she didn’t go back into the water. I don’t know if you noticed too, but she kept looking at something off the coast and looked terrified whenever she did. I think she was trying to avoid something.”

Mitch sighed. “I did notice that I just couldn’t see what it was.”

“Exactly,” Sarah reasoned. “Things could have been a lot worse for her if we didn’t help. And don’t worry about Harry, I’ll talk to him. I’ve already messaged him and leave him a note on the door as well. But for right now, she needs to recuperate, and we need to get to the airport. I think Harry will be just fine.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when the sound of the front door to the house opened and closed, she figured maybe she should get up. Slowly, she let her eyes flutter open to the pitch-black room. There was a bit of light shining under the doorway from the hallway outside of the bedroom, and she could only assume it was the two kind people who had helped her and brought her here returning from wherever they’d gone off to.

Heavy footsteps could be heard coming up the same wooden staircase she climbed up just hours ago and towards the room she was in. Although she wasn’t scared per se, Y/N still held her breath and waited for the door to open and reveal who she hoped was Mitch and Sarah. However, those hopes were crushed when the door burst open and in walked a complete stranger.

He had short curly brown hair and some of the prettiest green eyes Y/N had ever seen. His outfit was rather simple, very casual, and similar to the clothes Y/N saw other people wearing during her short time on land, and it suited him very well.

The two of them just stared at each other for a moment as Y/N slowly sat up and leaned against the headboard. She was completely unsure of what to say, but luckily for her, the man beat her to it.

“Who are you, and why are you in my bed?”

Y/N didn’t know how to react. The way the man stared at her so intensely made her want to shrink away and never be seen again, but she didn’t. Instead, she straightened her posture and looked right back at him. “I was brought here.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” he replied and held up a piece of paper. “Found this on the front door when I got home after getting a very long, questionable text from Sarah.”

So this is the friend Sarah told her about the owner of the house. He was rather handsome in Y/N’s opinion, but so far he was not as kind as Sarah had made him out to be, and that made her nerves return. “I-I.”

“You’re a mermaid?’ He asked in disbelief, becoming slightly more aggravated as he watched Y/N shake her head in agreement. “What the hell were those two on when they found you?”

Y/N could tell he was not happy, which she understood why, but she also really did not like the way he was speaking to her and decided to address that. “I… I don’t like your tone.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, I don’t like your tone,” she replied firmly. “Sarah said you were nice, but I’m finding that hard to believe.”

Was this girl, ok? Sarah had told Harry in the message she sent that the girl in front of him had hit her head. Was that why she thought she was a mermaid? Also, why did they think to bring her here of all places? Clearly, she didn’t recognize him or know who he was, but there’s still no way that she’s a mermaid.

Harry couldn’t quite wrap his head around the whole situation, but regardless, he could see her point in the way he wasn't exactly calm in addressing the issue at hand. So, with a deep breath, he calmed any odd feelings and worries he had.

“I’m sorry. I could have handled that better.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure you weren’t expecting a stranger to be asleep in your bed once you got home. I know I wouldn’t.” Y/N explained and instantly felt better when a smile started tugging at the man’s lips.

“Not exactly a regular occurrence, no,” Harry chuckled and took a good look at the girl. Her hair was matted, indicating that it had been wet at one point and furrowed his eyebrows at the marks and cuts that covered her skin. It was evident that she had been through something traumatic, but Harry decided he shouldn’t dig for any information and decided maybe if he addressed everything calmly, he could eventually get her out of his home and get her the medical attention she might need. “Sarah had said you were hurt, do you need to see a doctor?”

“No, I think I’ll be fine,” Y/N responded and slowly climbed out of bed. She walked towards the man and let out a surprised gasp at how tall he was. Y/N had always considered herself to be an average height whenever she walked around on land with humans, but he made her feel much shorter. She then made eye contact with him again and quickly shook her head, free those thoughts. “Sleeping helped a lot, but uh, if you didn’t mind… I could really use a shower.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the girl's words. If she really was a mermaid, could she even take a shower? How did any of this work? But then again, Harry knew mermaids didn’t exist, but he decided to play along with the story he’d been told about the girl standing in front of him.

“You’re sure nothing will happen?” His question had a serious tone to it, and Y/N wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. “When you’re in the shower, that is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Harry started with a sign. “Well. You’re a mermaid, right?”

Y/N nodded.

“Don’t mermaids, I don’t know, don’t you… you know, turn back into a mermaid once you’re wet?”

“Oh! No. Well not in the sense that you’re probably thinking,” she explained, earning a skeptical look from the man standing in front of her. “I mean yes, technically mermaids will turn into their mermaid form when they’re in the water or are wet. However, we either have to be fully submerged in water, or if we’re on land and say it’s raining, we usually have about two minutes before anything would happen. I, on the other hand, have a bit more time than that because I’m not a proper mermaid.”

“Proper?” Harry asked, still processing everything else she said, but that specific part standing out. “There’s such a thing as a proper mermaid? And you’re not one of them?”

“It’s a long story,” Y/N mumbled in response. It was a complicated story too and was something she just didn’t want to get into quite yet, so, she did what she did best; avoided the situation entirely. “Anyways, um, would you mind showing me where the shower is, please? The dried saltwater is making my hair a bit grimy.”

He just stared at her. There still was a large part of him that didn’t believe any of this could actually be real. Maybe this girl was lost? Confused? Whatever it was, Harry was still unsure of why Mitch and Sarah would bring her here and make it all his problem.

Y/N watched as the man continued staring towards her blankly. Although he was looking right at her, he wasn’t making direct eye contact, which leads Y/N to believe that he must’ve been in deep thought. His gaze just wouldn’t move away from her though, and after a moment of silently shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she cleared her throat in attempts to gain his attention back.

“Oh, uh yeah, this way.”

Harry didn’t bother showing her the rest of the house just yet and opted on taking her to his en suite so he could be nearby if she needed anything. Once he showed her how to turn the water on and where everything was, he set one of the clean, large fluffy towels onto the porcelain vanity top and gave her, her privacy. Once he was back in the bedroom, he flopped onto his bed and groaned. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

The way the water shot from the shower once Y/N twisted the handle to the left, like she had been shown, caused her to jump slightly and gasped at the sight. She wasn’t expecting it to be so... aggressive, but nonetheless, she waited for a bit of steam to rise to indicate the water was warm enough for her to get into.

Once the entire bathroom itself was a bit warmer, and condensation started forming on the large mirror above the vanity, Y/N took off the baggy T-shirt and shorts she had been given to wear and was about to finally get into the shower. However, something caught her eye.

On the wall near the shower was a black square. It had various knobs and dials, something Y/N had never seen before but was instantly intrigued by. To the top right of the contraption, there was a button that said ON/OFF to which Y/N decided she should most definitely press.

Another surprised yelp left the mermaid's mouth when the noise started blaring from the device, and she instantly moved to turn it down with the knob that was labeled Volume. As soon as the sounds were down to a comfortable level, Y/N let it sink in that it wasn’t just any noise that surprised her, it was music. And Y/N loved music.

She listened for a second before her eyes widened in surprise; she knew this song but wasn’t sure how. Maybe it was from floating near houseboats while they played that tune, or simply by being near the shore while she was observing people. Whatever it was, Y/N recognized the song, and it brought a great sense of comfort to her, which finally lead her to get into the damn shower.

Harry’s eyebrows raised in alert as soon as the music started blaring from his en-suite. He wasn’t expecting In My Place by Coldplay to just randomly start playing but assumed the girl had simply just found the stereo in there and decided to let her be.

He hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed and didn’t have any plans to. His phone dinged with a notification from where it had been lying next to him and with another dramatic groan, he rolled over to see what it was; eyes widening once he saw it was a message from Sarah.

Sarah

Don’t be mad. x.

Harry scoffed, of course, she’d be so nonchalant about all of this.

Harry

There’s a girl that thinks she’s a mermaid in my shower right now, Sarah.

Sarah

She is a mermaid! You can even ask Mitch, he was there too. And she needed help, H.

Harry stared at the phone screen for a few moments, just thinking of how he could possibly respond to that. He zoned everything out as he let this all really sink in and didn’t realize that the song playing from the washroom had changed, or that it had changed again.

He was utterly unaware of just how much time had passed until a loud gasp, followed by an even louder thump sounded from the en-suite. Harry instantly sat up and waited, waited to see if he had just imagined the noise or if it had actually happened. After another moment passed, he got his answer when a hushed and timid voice called out.

“H-help, please.”

There was no way of predicting what was on the other side of the washroom door, but when Harry scrambled off the bed and across the room to hesitantly push it open so he could step inside, he can wholeheartedly say he was not picturing the scene that unfolded once he did so.

The water from the shower was still running, and the music continued playing. Harry kept his eyes closed because he knew that with the large glass walls of his shower, he’d see something that he wasn’t meant to when it came to the girl that was in there. “What happened?”

“I stayed in the water for too long,” Y/N whimpered as she tried to sit herself up against the bottom of the shower wall without flinching in pain from her fall. “C-could use your help, please?”

Harry didn’t want to open his eyes, but when he did, his mouth dropped open. The girl wasn’t completely naked like he would have expected if it were under any other circumstances. Instead, her lengthy hair covered her exposed chest while the bottom half of her body now had a tail. Stunning shades of pink, purple, blue, and green all shimmered against the water that covered her scales, and Harry just simply could not look away. He’d never in a million years expect to find himself in this type of situation, but here he was, with a mermaid in his shower.

Y/N watched as he took in her appearance. For some reason, the way he looked at her made a blush burn at her cheeks, but also make her want to just disappear. She was so embarrassed and cursed herself for not paying attention to just how long she’d been in the shower.

The defeated sigh that left her mouth is what snapped Harry back to reality, and in a quick second, he was at the shower, swinging the door open and reaching in to turn the water off. He then let his gaze fall down to the way the mermaid clutched onto her right elbow and saw how red it was already turning, quickly assuming she must have whacked it when she fell over.

“Do you-,” Harry started to ask if she needed help getting out of the shower but stopped himself. Of course, she did. She was a mermaid.

Cautiously, Harry bent over to snake one arm around her waist and the other under her tail so that he could pick her up bridal style and lift her out of the shower. The girl’s scales were slick against his skin, and he feared he might drop her, but she soon wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pressed her chest against his own to prevent that from happening.

Y/N instinctively nuzzled her face into the crook of the man’s neck, feeling more stupid and vulnerable than she had in a really long time, but as she inhaled the smell of his cologne, the same one she’d spent hours basking in as she slept, comforted her. Despite how embarrassed she still was. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Harry replied before gently setting her down on the raggy white bath mat outside of the shower. He could sense how she was hesitant in letting go of him, but she eventually did, and he was able to move away slightly. His clothes were soaked, but Harry didn’t care as he remained crouched down and really got a good look at the mermaid. He started at her face, noticing just how stunning her eyes were and not realizing how his eyes had a similar effect on her earlier. His gaze then trailed down her body, still thankful her hair was covering her chest and preventing this situation from becoming even more awkward, before finally landing on her tail again. “Wow, you really are a mermaid.”

“Told you I was,” Y/N grumbled as she leaned back against the cold glass shower, before instantly crossing her arms over her chest once she realized she still wasn’t wearing anything.

“Right,” Harry responded with a sigh. “So, what do we do now? Do you stay like that forever?”

“No,” Y/N chuckled. “I’ll have legs again soon, but would you mind passing me that towel first?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry answered before reaching over to grab the towel that still rested on the vanity. He didn’t say anything else as he handed the girl the item and sat back to watch as she unfolded it and placed it over her body before speaking to him again.

“See, the thing with being a mermaid is that we can control water,” Y/N started to explain. “Move it, manipulate it… we can do it all. However, like I said, I’m not a proper mermaid, so I’m not as powerful with the water as I am compared to a regular mermaid.”

“Regular mermaid,” Harry mumbled as he watched her wave her hand over her tail and witnessed the water droplets remove themselves from her scales. He shook his head in disbelief as the water gathered together in one large form right in front of him before looking down and realizing this was how she was drying herself.

Y/N watched the man with an amused expression as all the water was removed from her body, and the burning sensation of her transition returned. She still refused to look down as her tail turned back into her legs and focused on moving the ball of water she created instead. With another small wave of her hand, the water moved through the air and over to the massive bathtub that was in the corner; watching as it burst and crashed into the porcelain below and eventually went down the drain. Her gaze moved back to the man, who was busy looking between her and the bathtub in utter disbelief.

“You think that’s cool? You should see what an actual mermaid can do.”

“What? How?” Harry stammered and slowly stood back up, reaching his hand out to help the now human-looking girl up as well while her other hand kept the towel in place. “This is a lot to take in. And you’re not even a real mermaid?”

“I’m not, no,” Y/N confirmed. “My mother was human, I was born on land. But we can talk about that another day. Thank you again for helping me, um, I’m Y/N.”

Harry continued watching her with wide eyes but felt the tension leave his body as she reached out her hand and smiled at him softly. Slowly, he reached out to shake her hand before finally speaking up again.

“M’Harry. S’a pleasure to meet you Y/N, but I’m going to need you to fill me in on everything.”

Y/N nodded in understanding, before motioning towards the bedroom again. Harry went first and gathered her one of his t-shirts and a pair of track pants to wear before the two sat down on the edge of his bed and talked all night long.

[seasonofthegeek]

History Repeats: Nino and Jude

This is the piece I did for the awesome Nino Zine that was just released and falls in the History Repeats Universe. :)

History Repeats: Alya and Jude

History Repeats: Alya and Nino

History Repeats: Nino and Jude:

Discovering and supporting the fact that his teenage son was a superhero just like he’d been years before required a fine balance of being proud and terrified, but Nino thought he was handling it well for the most part. For example, he was currently only trying to hide every other wince and flinch as he watched Jude, or rather Luckbug, crash into the higher beams of the Eiffel Tower from his vantage point on the observation deck. 

“Maybe it’s time to call it a night, little dude,” he called. “You should give the nuts and bolts a rest. I think there’s been enough structural damage for one night.”

Luckbug dropped down to the deck with a grunt. “I’m not getting any better.”

“But you’re not getting any worse.”

“Gee, thanks, Dad. I’m so glad I asked you to come out here with me instead of Mom.”

Nino couldn’t help but grin as Jude dropped his transformation and sank down on the bench beside him. “If you think your mother would go easier on you, you’ve been living in a different house than me.”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“I know who runs our house. She knows it and I know it.” Nino leaned back and stared out over the city. “So what’s really the problem?”

“I just suck,” Jude muttered. “I should hand the earrings over to someone else.”

“It didn’t seem like you were having trouble a few months ago when you were sneaking out and fighting dark magical beings from hell. And wasn’t it just a couple of weeks ago that there was a new segment showing you rocking in a hammock you’d made with your yoyo between the Arc de Triomphe?”

The teenager crossed his arms sullenly. “Yeah, well, I was a dumb kid and didn’t know what I was getting into. I’m just not cut out for this.”

Nino nodded sagely. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened to your friends when you made the wrong call in that fight against the Dark One last week?”

Jude sank down lower. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Okay.”

“And they’re fine now. The Cure fixed everything.”

“I know.”

“But yeah, I made a bad call and they got hurt and even though everyone is okay now, it’s not like anyone forgot.”

Nino glanced over at him. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Jude glared at his lap. “I don’t.”

The sounds of the city floated up to them from below and Nino let the silence between them simmer until he finally spoke. “I made a bad call once and got one of my teammates hurt. It was awful. I tried to give up my Miraculous that night.”

Interest flashed on Jude’s face and Nino knew he’d hooked him. He and Alya decided together to try to keep their hero stories to a minimum once the truth was out between all three of them but this seemed like a good time to take one out, brush it off, and give it a new audience. 

“So what happened?”

A memory of Chat Noir bloodied on the floor of Hawk Moth’s lair flashed in Nino’s mind and he frowned. “Well, you’re going to need a little backstory before I get to the main event. How much have you learned about Hawk Moth?” 

“Enough, I think. I know he was Uncle Adrien’s dad and you guys fought him. He had the Miraculous Everly uses now to create champions to help us when we need them.”

Nino nodded and took a moment to decide if he was going to keep going. It wasn’t his secret to share exactly but…

“What you probably don’t know is that Gabriel-- Hawk Moth,” he quickly amended, “is also Chat Noir’s dad.” He watched his son’s brow furrow in confusion and then he was looking at him with widening eyes. 

“Wait, Uncle Adrien was Chat Noir?”

“Yep.”

“And his dad was the bad guy?”

“Yep.”

Jude frowned. “So that would be like me fighting you.”

“If I was an egotistical tyrant, sure,” Nino shrugged, trying not to let it show how much the thought of them being pitted against each other bothered him. “Gabriel is not a good man. He never has been as far as I can tell but I’m on the outside looking in.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means that Adrien still has trouble talking about him and everything that happened because he still can’t see his father as just a villain like we all did. He was still his father.”

“Is that why he got hurt?” Jude prompted.

For a moment, Nino had forgotten what took them on this path of conversation and he had to regather his thoughts. It’d been over a decade and closer to two now, but it was still uncomfortable to recall. They’d all been so young...like his son was now.

He took in a deep breath. “Ladybug had a bad feeling about Chat Noir missing a meeting and a patrol and didn’t know how to get in contact with him, but she knew I did. Adrien and I found out about each other early on. At that time, only Ladybug’s identity was a secret from the rest of us and to her, the only secret identity was Chat’s.” He saw Jude trying to keep up and decided to cut the rest of the identity reveal gymnastics out of the story for the most part.

“I tried to get in contact with Adrien out of the mask first,” he continued. “I even went to his house but no one would let me in. I transformed and tried to get in his room but the house was shut up tight. Adrien always left his window unlocked for any of us to get in or him to get out so that was the first tip off that something was wrong.”

Nino shook his head. “The thing about being a hero...the thing about life in general, really, is that when you get to look back, it’s much clearer what the better decision was to make, but when you’re right in the middle of it, you don’t always know the right thing to do. Does that make sense?”

“That’s how I feel about last week,” Jude replied quietly. “Now that I’ve been able to think about it, I know I made a bad call but I really did think I was doing the best thing at the time. But I’m supposed to be the team leader. I can’t make bad calls and realize later that I should’ve done something different!” His voice rose with every word and then he stood and paced in front of the bench. “Camille was almost killed because I got cocky and thought I could take out the Dark One on my own.”

“Juju, come sit back down.” Nino patted the space beside him. His son let out a frustrated growl and threw himself back down to the bench with a huff. “You’re so much like your mom.”

“Dad.”

“Right. Back to my story.” Nino tried to smile but it felt too small on his face, too forced. “I found a way into the house through the roof and that’s when I found Gabriel. He was talking to Chat Noir, pleading with him, and I knew he knew about Adrien.” The memory resurfaced in hazy detail and he could almost feel the sickening flutter of butterfly wings against his skin. “I caught them both off guard and Gabriel transformed and immediately tried to take me out. I didn’t realize he’d akumatized his assistant and driver to keep guard in the house and they came after me too.”

Jude was sitting straighter now, investment in the story plain on his face. “What happened?”

“Chat and I fought them.” He was surprised to feel the lump forming in his throat; it’d all been so long ago. “Hawk Moth was determined to kill me, I think. He was at the end of his rope. The akumas kept Chat busy while he and I fought and he got in a few good blows.” Nino lifted his chin and traced the thin scar along his jaw left from the rapier from Hawk Moth’s cane. “I really did think I was going to die that day. I remember looking over and seeing Chat running towards us and thinking I should’ve told the others, I should’ve waited for more help. We were going to lose our Miraculous, maybe even die, and it was my fault”

“Yeah, but Ladybug is the one who sent you to go find him,” Jude argued. “It’s her fault you were there in the first place.”

“She was doing what she thought was best in sending me. As soon as I found Chat, I could’ve called for backup but I didn’t because I thought I could help on my own. We all made our decisions.”

“Still, she was the team leader and...and…” The younger man trailed off helplessly. “It falls back on her.”

Nino considered that and decided to take a different approach. “Did you know that I was offered the position to become Guardian of the Miraculous?”

Jude’s attention sharpened once more as he looked at his father. “Kagami is the Guardian.”

“And she’s a good one; I’m the one who endorsed her for the position. She’s an excellent judge of character, though we’ve had a few words since I found out about you.”

“So if you’d been in charge, I wouldn’t have my Miraculous. Is that what you’re saying?” Jude was falling back into sullenness. 

At the beginning of the conversation, he’d wanted to give back the earrings and now he was mad at the thought of not having them. Nino had to resist the temptation to roll his eyes. Being the adult was tedious at times. 

“I passed on the responsibility because your mom and I were going to have you and we wanted to keep you safe. We gave up Wayzz and Trixx for our family because it was the right call to make and looking back, I don’t regret it.”

“Good to know I’m not a regret.”

“You’re not listening, Jude.”

His son crossed his arms and Nino sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that you never know if you’re making the right decision in the moment. You have to take the information you have and make a call and sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean you give up.” His words hung in the air between them and Nino spotted Tikki peeking out from Jude’s jacket to give him a fond look. 

“So you’re really just saying to try my best.” Jude smirked at his father. “How very after school special of you, Dad.”

“For a sweet kid, you’re such a little punk sometimes.”

 “And who do you think I get that from, dude?”

[itsmionet]

A small pill

“How could this happen?!” Alex yells into her phone as she runs through the DEO facilities.

“I- I’m not sure.” Winn scratches the back of his head as he sighs. “We were in the middle of an experiment and she… she messed up big time.”

“You know I can still hear you, right?” Lena huffs in annoyance from her spot where she’s sitting on a chair. The blindfold that’s currently covering her eyes proves to be more of a disturbance than rather helpful, Lena thinks. Still she makes sure it’s secured in place.

“What do I do? Do I bring her to you?” The boy asks unsure.

“No” comes Alex’s quick response “she’d be too exposed. I’ll come to you.” Then she pauses. “Which is… where, exactly?”

“We’re on Lena’s office.” Winn balances the phone on his shoulder as he tries his best to help Lena up; for she was complaining about being thirsty.

“You know I can get a glass of water myself.” Lena complains; not being content at all with the cloth on her face.

“We were down at the lab” Winn keeps telling Alex as he ignores Lena completely “but then it got too messy and people started to come in so I sneaked her out of there and into the office.”

“In that case I’m going to need you to run to the lab and tell those people not to touch anything.” The woman on the other end of the line instructs him sternly. “I need to see exactly which components you used in order to find an antidote.”

“But that would mean leaving Lena on her own…” Winn trails off as he watches the woman tapping the table with her fingers in an impatient manner.

Upon hearing the boy’s words, Lena’s head turns fast in his direction. “I can handle myself.” She all but growls.

“I mean” he chuckles, albeit being slightly scared due to Lena’s temper “this wouldn’t have happened if you’d just-“

“Just go!” Lena yells at him. And that’s all it takes for Winn to bolt right out of her office and practically sprint to the lab; although not before making sure he left Lena’s office door locked. They couldn’t let anyone go in.

One she can’t hear Winn anymore, Lena lets out an exasperated sigh and slowly takes the blindfold off. She places it delicately in front of her and massages her temples as she tries to ease her nerves; which have had her on the verge of a panic attack ever since the experiment went all wrong.

Her eyes hurt a bit at first due to the bright light coming from the windows but they quickly subside. Lena leans back on her chair and scolds herself for her mistake. How could she have let this happen? How did this happen, in the first place? She doesn’t even know herself if you asked her.

All she knows is that they need to find some sort of antidote soon before the love pill she accidentally swallowed takes effect.

***

“What do we know so far?” Alex asks Winn once she’s by his side. She doesn’t stop moving though, going all around the lab and picking up one thing after another.

“Well, she accidentally took a pill which makes people fall instantly and irretrievably in love with the first person they lay their eyes on.” He informs Alex as calmly as he can muster given the situation. “So I blindfolded her!” He smiles triumphantly at Alex as if that would make everything better.

Alex sighs. “Do we know for how long the effect lasts?”

“The period of time goes from one day to forever.”

“Great” Alex chuckles sarcastically “so the range we’re working with here is either a few hours or for the rest of her life.”

“But” Winn tries a lighter tone to make less of the situation “I’m sure we’ll be able to find a cure in no time. All we need to do in the meantime is make sure Lena doesn’t make eye contact with anyone!”

***

It’s not like Lena has much time to react. The door just swings open and she can’t do much but close her eyes as tight as she can as she tries to locate the blindfold.

“Um, Lena?” comes Kara’s voice. “Is everything alright?”

“No, yeah, yeah.” She puts on a smile for the blonde because even though she cannot see her, she knows for a fact that Kara is frowning.

“Are you sure?” Kara almost whispers as she slowly approaches, not wanting to be too fast and scare the other woman.

“Yes, I just need to- uh…” The blonde doesn’t understand why Lena won’t open her eyes or what it is she’s trying to grab from her table, because there’s nothing there, really. “Ugh, where is it?” Lena growls mostly to herself as she grows more and more exasperated each second of not finding the blindfold, not realising that when Kara came in, the blow of air coming from the other side sent it flying to the ground.

“What is it you’re looking for, Lena?” Kara shyly asks. “Maybe I can help.”

“It’d be way easier if you weren’t here.” Lena doesn’t intend for it to come out like that. That’s not what she meant at all, but from the gasp that escapes Kara’s lips she can tell she messed up- again. “No, no, Kara, wait!” she stretches a hand in what she believes is Kara’s direction as she hears the blonde’s steps recoiling.

“I’m sorry if I bothered you.” The blonde’s voice comes out weak and full of regret as she skips towards the door. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, Kara, let me explain!” But the blonde doesn’t stop. Instead, she hears the door being pulled open “I’ll fall in love!” she shouts. That seems to do the trick because she doesn’t hear steps anymore nor the door.

“What?” Lena wishes she could see Kara’s face. She pictures the superhero tilting her head to the side; confusion written all over her face.

“Close the door so I can explain.” She tells her. “Please.”

Kara does as she’s told but doesn’t move from where she is standing. It proves to be way more difficult that Kara thought: having to watch Lena second-guess every single step she takes all the while stroking the table in search for something.

“I- I accidentally swallowed a ‘love pill’” she embarrassingly explains “it’s going to make me fall in love with the first person I see so Winn decided to blindfold me in order to prevent me from making eye contact and now… Now, I can’t find the damn cloth.”

After a while, Lena gives up on the blindfold. “You know what? Fuck it.” She pulls her shirt over her head and lets it stay there. The shirt provides much coverage than the blindfold did but ultimately leaves her in only a black bra. “Kara, please, help me.” She reaches her hand out to Kara but the blonde’s brain short-circuits.

Lena’s almost bare chest is nothing like Kara ever imagined. Not like she ever thought about Lena semi-naked. Or naked. Or in any position. Ever. No. Especially not when it’s late at night.

And Kara’s usually a composed person. Just not when she’s around Lena. And even less when the latter is topless and asking for the blonde to come closer. Nope. No special DEO training had ever prepared her for this kind of self-control and composure she is supposed to demonstrate now. Because it would be very weird and very embarrassing to just plunge onto that cleavage Kara hasn’t stopped thinking about since the moment she first laid eyes on the brunette.

So, instead of letting her most primal instinct out, Kara lets out a shaky breath and takes a step closer. And then another. ‘Yeah, okay, I think I can do this’, she thinks as she approaches Lena. She’s almost at arm’s length when she catches a sniff of Lena’s perfume. That’s all it takes for Kara to lose balance and fall on top of the coffee table right next to the couch.

“Ouch.” Kara grimaces.

“Kara?!” Lena doesn’t stop to think. The loud commotion and Kara’s growl being enough for the brunette to let her shirt fall and kneel beside her friend. She knows Kara can’t physically get hurt from a mere clumsiness but that never stops her from worrying. She grabs Kara’s face and let her eyes roam, looking for maybe a cut lip or a bruise. When she doesn’t find any, her eyes travel lower and over Kara’s body frantically looking for any kind of cut or bruise –even though she knows she won’t find any; but still.

“Lena” Kara calls out incredibly slowly.

The brunette, however, pays no attention as she pulls her to her feet and tries her best to fix the blonde’s clothes, which are all wrinkled.

“Lena” Kara repeats more surely. This time, Lena looks up. When she does, she realises Kara’s holding her breath and is looking at her in a way she wouldn’t know how to describe. “Your eyes.”

Lena gasps. She tries to say something but keeps on stuttering. Kara doesn’t even open her mouth, instead lets the brunette sort whatever thoughts may be in her head right now. “I- I don’t think the pill worked?” Lena says after a while. It’s not intended to be a question but it comes out as such. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Maybe you got the calculations wrong?” Kara offers. “I’m sure you took the pill awhile back, so maybe it doesn’t have an effect anymore?”

Lena chuckles. Because she never makes mistakes when it comes to math. This time, however, there’s a real possibility she might. Unless…

“Look” Kara grabs Lena’s hands “it’s great if it did not work; I mean, this way we don’t need to find an antidote, but” she lets out a shaky breath “if it did work, if you really-“ she clears her throat “if you’ve really fallen in love with me, I promise I won’t make it weird. I will still be here for you and we’ll work to revert the effect and-“

Lena doesn’t say anything. She tilts her head to the side as she listens to Kara ramble on and on. The blonde then looks everywhere but at Lena. “I- uh, I’d just like to add that” she clenches her jaw as she redirects her gaze towards Lena “I’m a little bummed out that the pill didn’t work” she disguises her embarrassment behind a forced chuckle.

“What?”

“I guess I’ll just say it” Kara sighs “I do like you, Lena. Like a lot. And for a solid second I felt really hopeful upon the possibility that you might reciprocate my feelings but, if you do, I don’t want it to be just because of some chemicals. I want it to be real.” Kara drops her gaze to the ground, afraid of Lena’s reaction. She expects her to let go of her, which Lena does; but instead of taking a step back like Kara also thought she would, Lena grabs her gently by her chin and lifts her face up.

“I can promise you” she speaks softly “what I feel for you has nothing to do with the damn pill.”

“Lena, you don’t kn-“ Kara tries to let go of the brunette but the latter doesn’t let her.

“I do know, Kara. Because I felt it way before.” She looks down at the blonde’s lips as she talks. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time now.”

“I want to kiss you too, Lena.” Kara is putty in Lena’s hands. Still, there’s a part of her that worries that this whole thing is a product of the pill and Lena doesn’t actually love her. “But I won’t until we find an anecdote. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you.”

Lena huffs but nods. “You’re exasperating, you know that?” she chuckles.

“Yeah, well, excuse me for wanting to kiss my girl when she’s not under the influence of chemicals.”

“Hm, so I’m your girl, huh?” Lena lifts an eyebrow flirtatiously, which only adds to Kara’s embarrassment for she hadn’t intended for it to come out. It just slipped.

“Oh, shut it, Luthor.” She sticks her tongue out playfully before rummaging through her bag in search for her phone.

Thankfully it doesn’t take Winn much time to be able to identify the components of the pill and create another one that would counteract the first one. One he’s done, he marches triumphantly alongside Alex towards Lena’s office. The least either of them expects to find though, is a very topless Lena Luthor and a very flustered Kara Zor-El standing in the middle of the CEO’s office.

“What’s going on here?” Alex asks when no one else dares to speak up.

“Oh, you got the pill, Winn!” Lena exclaims before any of this whole situation can get even more awkward.

“Yeah, have fun with it.” He offers it to her, not understanding anything of what’s in front of him.

Lena swallows it and spins on her heel to look at Kara. She offers her the most sincere and beautiful smile she’s ever shown anyone before walking determinedly towards Kara and wasting no time in grabbing the other woman by her face and kissing her.

Kara has almost no time to process it all but gladly accepts it. She puts her hands on Lena’s hips and allows herself a small smile before parting.

“So, uh” the blonde says a little bit out of breath “not because of the pill?”

“Not because of the pill.” Lena assures her as she kisses her again. And again.

“I feel like I’m watching a documentary on a soldier’s return home.” Winn whispers to Alex. “I mean, the way they’re kissing each other… as if one of them had just come home from the war?”

“Come on, Winn, let’s go.” Alex rolls her eyes and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, being careful not to hurt him in the process. “Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“Mind if I take you out tonight, miss Danvers?” Lena asks the blonde once they’ve been left alone.

“I would like it very much, miss Luthor.” Kara nods approvingly before stealing another kiss.

“It’s a date.” Lena whispers when they part.

“At last.”

[randomfandominserts]

Draco Malfoy X Reader - Hoodie

Cool I’m a sad person who likes to write things with realistic endings over happy ones.

Word Count: 2516

Summary: Seasons change, and so do people. But hoodies never do.

Spring.

“Draco?” The boy stopped in his tracks, turning to find the source that called his name.

“(Y/N)?” He began walking toward you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I was just about to owl you!” You were surprised to see your friend here, but more excited than anything. “What are you doing here?” you asked him, curious as to why he was walking down the street in front of your home.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Well, this is my house,” you answered, gesturing to the manor standing behind you.

“I always assumed a Muggle family lived in this home.”

“Well, half-Muggle, so you’re about half correct.” You let out a small laugh. “Anyway, why are you here?”

“I live next door.”

“You’ve lived next door your whole life, and I’ve never known you were there?” It was too large of a coincidence, but you let it go with another laugh. “Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? My family will be out, but I can still make some pretty amazing pasta.”

“I’d love that.”

The next evening, Draco arrived at your house. After eating, you brought him up to your room so you could fetch the letter you were going to send him. “I know it’s in here somewhere,” you were saying, crouched over your bedside table. Draco looked around your room, which was still littered with a few odd stuffed toys.

“Cute room,” he said, leaning over you to pick up the letter labeled, ‘Draco,’ which you seemed to have glanced over. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Cute face.” You hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but the second it did you stood, walking away from Draco and hiding your now-red face. “Oh, um. Sorry.”

“No, no.” Draco walked over to you, placing one gentle hand on your cheek. “Yours is cute, too.”

You were happy your family was out for the night.

Winter.

“You own hoodies?”

“Don’t act so surprised, (Y/N). I can’t dress this nicely all the time.” You turned to look at your boyfriend, just so you could roll your eyes at his comment.

“You’re annoying, Draco. Have I ever told you that?” It was Draco’s turn to roll his eyes, and all you could do was laugh. “Would you mind if I wore this home? It’s cold outside.” You had pulled one of the hoodies out of his closet. In your haste, you hadn’t grabbed anything to wear over your shirt before walking to the Malfoy’s this afternoon. Now that the sun had gone down, it was much colder and you weren’t sure you would make it off their property without freezing to death.

You were already tugging your arms through the sleeves as Draco called out, “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” You walked over to the boy and leaned down to peck him on his cheek. “Owl me tomorrow, right?” He turned his head so your lips met his own.

“Of course. Don’t get lost on your way back again.”

“That happened once, Draco.”

“Whatever you say, darling.”

Spring.

“Have anything you’d like to tell me, (Y/N)?” You glanced up from your reading to look at your boyfriend, who had seemingly come out of nowhere.

“No, nothing.” You gave him a smile and stood to give him a kiss, but he turned his head away. You sat back down slowly. “Is there something wrong?”

“You tell me.” Draco’s arms were crossed, and his stare was stone cold, gazing straight through you.

“Draco, I’m confused. I haven’t done anything…”

“Then why am I hearing rumors that you’ve been… been…” He looked disgusted, like the words he wanted to leave his mouth were too vulgar to be said. “Seeing Weasley on the side.”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, (Y/N).”

“Draco, you’re accusing me of something so serious with no proof whatsoever. I am surprised.”

“No proof? What do you call Pansy catching you and that vile creature in the library late at night?”

“…studying??”

“And what about Blaise catching you two entering an empty classroom together?”

“…going to class? Draco, what is this about-”

“This is about you not respecting me and our relationship.” Draco had uncrossed his arms, and instead was standing over you. He stood up straight, making himself seem tall and menacing, and you were having none of it. You stood, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Are you really so insecure that you’d believe some silly rumors your pathetic friends made up over the truths that I’m trying to tell you right now?” You both glared at each other, intense and unyielding. “Are you really such a sorry person that you can’t even trust me, your girlfriend and best friend, over some creeps who don’t even know me?”

“Do not insult my friends.”

“Oh, I can’t call them pathetic, but you let them call me a dirty whore.” You turned back to your book and slammed it shut. “Whatever, Draco. I’ll be off. I have to go snog Weasley in some empty closet.” You picked up your book and began to storm off, but he grabbed your arm to keep you there.

“You really aren’t seeing Weasley, are you?” He had finally come to his senses. His eyes were becoming more gentle, and you could see by his facial expression that he realized he had made a mistake. You shook your head.

“I’m not seeing Ron.” You tugged your arm free of his grasp. “In fact, I’m no longer seeing anybody. I wouldn’t suggest trying to talk to me again, Malfoy.” With that, you stormed away, fast enough that he didn’t hear your pathetic sobs.

Funny thing, you ran straight into Ron, who held you while you cried.

Draco watched from a distance, boiling with rage. Maybe you really were seeing Ron on the side. But it didn’t matter anymore, you weren’t his.

Summer.

Spring cleaning was way overdue, considering it was Summer Break. You were currently working on your wardrobe, cleaning out the abundance of clothing that resided in your much too large closet.

At least, you were working on your wardrobe until you came across something that made your heart freeze.

A simple gray, zip-up hoodie, one with a broken zipper and a small hole in the hood, had stopped you in your tracks. It was too large for you, and it had been hung up carefully in your closet when you discovered it. You pulled it out, taking it off the hanger carefully, and pulled your arms through the sleeves.

It still smelled like Draco.

You quickly tugged the thing off, tossing it in the ‘Discard’ pile you had resting in the corner of your room. That hoodie could burn, you didn’t care, you just didn’t need another painful reminder of the boy who once loved you sitting in your bedroom. But your house was rather cold, you decided, and it would be easier to just wear the hoodie while you cleaned rather than try to keep a blanket on over your shoulders. That’s what you told yourself as you pulled the hoodie back on, taking in the warm, woody smell that lingered on it.

After hours of sorting, night was finally falling. You had eaten dinner with your family and put away all the things you intended to keep, so it was time to discard your -messy- pile of rejects. You threw everything into a trash bag and dragged it out of your room, out to the bin that sat at the end of the long, dirt driveway that lead to your house (your mother, being the Muggle she was, preferred to use the Muggle system of garbage collection that she had grown up with. It was, after all, her old family home that the family lived in, and she insisted that everyone in the house took out the trash like a proper Muggle would). It was dark out, and there was a slight chill in the air as the moon took its spot in the clear Summer sky.

You paid no attention to anything around you as you ambled your way to the bin. Maybe that’s why you were so surprised when you heard a voice say your name.

You jumped, surprised at the sudden words. You felt no need to glance up, however, as you could recognize that voice from anywhere. “Draco,” you replied, mouth dry as the venomous name left your tongue. “What are you doing out so late?”

“I’m out for a walk,” he answered simply. “Is that my hoodie you’re wearing?” You threw the bag into the bin and closed the lid.

“I suppose,” you said with a shrug. “I should get going.” You turned up the dirt path, ready to make your way back up to your home and away from your former love.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to give me my hoodie back?”

“I really should get going,” you repeated, continuing your trek. “Come by tomorrow if you need it so badly.”

You don’t know why you were so surprised when Draco actually showed up at your house the next day, demanding his hoodie. “Come in,” you said, pulling the door open wide. “It’s hot out, and I have to go find the thing.” Draco accepted your offer and stepped carefully into your foyer. You left him there, not expecting anything to happen, but when you returned back down the winding staircase you saw a sight you’d rather not have.

“Oh please, Draco, we’d love to have you! I’m sure your parents are out on business right now, just let me feed you this once.”

“I’d love to stay, Ms. (L/N), but I’m sure it’d be better if I returned home.”

“Nonsense! You’re staying. I’ll set you a place at the table.” Your mother scurried off to the dining room, and you let out a small sigh.

“You just can’t stay out of my life, can you?” You held the hoodie out in front of you, waiting for Draco to pull it from your gentle grasp.

“You’re the one who invited me in, (Y/N).” You let out another sigh and pushed the hoodie forward, dropping it in Draco’s unsuspecting arms.

“Whatever. We should go eat.”

Lunch was somewhat awkward. You picked at your food, head directed towards your plate as you listened to your mom and Draco’s lighthearted conversation. The rest of your family wasn’t home, so there was nothing to do but sit and nod along as your mom tried to include you in the conversation. It wasn’t your mom’s fault, she hardly knew anything about you and Draco’s relationship. All that she knew was that you two had once been closer than you were now, that you drifted away because Draco was always busy. What she didn’t know was how much it hurt to have to meet his eyes when you glanced up from your plate, or how much just hearing his voice made your heart ache.

“This was lovely, Ms. (L/N),” Draco said as he stood from the table, plate in hand. “Can I help with washing up?”

“I’ve got it, Draco,” you said curtly, reaching for your mother’s plate. He reached for it at the same time, and the brush of your hands startled you, making you jerk your hand back. He rolled his eyes and picked up the plate, stacking it on top of his. He picked up a couple of the serving dishes before making his way to the kitchen, you not far behind. You dropped your dishes on the counter.

“Okay, what the hell?” It had felt like an eternity had passed before you let out those bitter words. “You didn’t have to stay and clean, damn it.”

“It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Well I don’t want you to be polite. I want you out of my goddamn house.” Draco placed the plate he was rinsing down and turned to look at you.

“What are you so angry about?”

“It’s hard enough to get you out of my head,” you answered gently. “And now I can’t even get you out of my house.”

“You invited me in in the first place.” You could tell the boy was getting annoyed. “And it should be easy enough for you to get me out of your head, (Y/N), when you’re the one who-”

“It wasn’t my fault then and it’s not my fault now!” Time seemed to stop as the world froze around you. Draco seemed to be at a loss for words, and you felt your face growing warm with anger.

“Look, you don’t love me anymore. It’s ok to admit it. But I still love you, so this hurts, Draco. It hurts like hell and I want you to get out of my house.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Just leave.” The second you heard your front door slam, you collapsed to the ground in tears. Your mom soon entered the kitchen, curious look on her face.  

“Draco left in such a rush, is everything… Oh, (Y/N).” Your mom dropped to the floor next to you, pulling you into her arms. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” You shook your head slightly. “That’s alright,” she said gently, smoothing your hair down. “We can talk whenever you’re ready.”

Eventually, your tears were gone and you were up off the kitchen floor. You would get over Draco. That was just the wake-up call you needed to start your healing journey. You wandered back into your dining room, meaning to go straight back up the stairs, but stopped cold when something gray caught your eye.

Of course he forgot his fucking hoodie.

Winter.

You had to take out the trash. In your rush, you grabbed the only clean item of outerwear you seemed to have hanging in your closet. A gray hoodie with a broken zipper and a hole in the hood. It didn’t phase you this time, though. Even the comforting scent that radiated off the hoodie didn’t hurt. It was simply another hoodie to you at this point.

You held the trash bag loosely, knowing if you held it too tight your fingers would numb faster in this cold winter weather. The bin was freezing, and it almost burned to touch as you struggled to open the freezing lid. You were shocked but thankful when a gloved hand easily reached around your shoulder and pushed the lid open.

You lugged the bag of garbage into the bin, ready to turn around and thank the helpful civilian, but you momentarily froze in your tracks when you heard a voice ask, “Is that my hoodie?” It almost hurt to hear the voice. Almost.

You turned around slowly, smile on your face. “Yeah,” you said, pulling it tight around your body as Draco eyed it. “Yeah, it is.” And with that, you turned and made your way back up to your house.

You made sure not to invite him in when he returned the next day to fetch it.

[raywritesthings]

Lost in Translation 8/?

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: In a universe where people are born with the name of the person destined for them displayed on their skin, intergalactic soulmates can be rather difficult to navigate. AO3 link   

Donna woke half-curled up on her side on top of the covers and with her phone still plastered to her cheek. Her mother had kept her up most of the night talking and eventually she’d laid down only interjecting with the occasional “Yeah” or “Mm-hm”, and she must have drifted off at some point.

She was still wearing the shift she’d been given by the Puritans before they’d decided to have her executed. She’d struggled out of the top layers of the dress before nodding off. Donna stood and undid the ties on it, allowing the garment to join its fellows in a crumpled heap on the floor. She continued on to her en suite and started the water for a bath. She deserved it after the day she’d had yesterday.

Donna sank into the bath with a sigh, her body relaxing even if her mind didn’t. Because once she left the relative safety of her room, she’d have to face what almost happened last night.

She slid down until just her nose poked out over the water. What had she been thinking? Get rid of the mark, then make the move. Not, well, that.

He hadn’t been helping, of course, what with those brown eyes and soft words and holding her just as long. Did he not get she was in a crisis here?

Would the Doctor be expecting them to pick up right where they’d left off before her mum rang? Donna couldn’t put him off — and didn’t want to — without making it seem like she wasn’t interested. Then she would miss her chance. But if things moved too quickly, she wouldn’t have a chance to get her mark removed.

Then again, she knew the Doctor would never pressure her for more than she was prepared to give. He just wasn’t the sort. As long as Donna didn’t lose her head, they could start this whatever it was now, then she could find someplace to have the removal done, and afterwards they could move things forward at whatever pace suited them.

Relief swept through her at having solved things. Maybe she was a little brilliant like he said. Donna washed up, then hurried back into her room to get dressed. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or nerves that had her so eager to find her Spaceman, but she didn’t want to give the doubt even a moment to creep in.

Locating the Doctor proved to be easier said than done. He wasn’t in the console room, for a start, and when Donna took the corridor leading to the library, she didn’t find him either.

“Doctor?” Had he gone off to sleep somewhere? She’d never gotten an answer to where his room was. That was changing.

But she heard the kettle whistle as she passed the kitchen. Poking her head in, she spotted the Doctor at the stove. “Been looking for you.”

He turned around, grinning. Donna had to bite her lip to keep from doing so as well. God, and she’d thought she could wait. “Good morning! Breakfast won’t be a minute.”

He’d set everything up as if just waiting for her arrival to begin. Donna could get rather used to that. Soon enough there were eggs sizzling and toast popping out of toaster, both of which he served to her on a plate.

“Bit on the light side. Don’t want to spoil your appetite.” The Doctor hadn’t even made anything for himself, and instead took the skillet over to the sink to start the washing up. She wondered if he just couldn’t sit still.

“And why not?”

“I’ve got just the trip for you today,” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh?”

“Yep. Called the Shan Shen market. Brilliant place! Booths all up and down the main streets selling anything you can imagine. And the food! Oh, you’re gonna love it.”

He went on babbling about their upcoming trip just like any morning. Was that it? They weren’t even going to talk about what had happened? Did he think she didn’t want to because she’d run off? Or did he not want to? Was he trying to pretend it hadn’t happened?

“Finished your tea?” He was stood by her chair all of a sudden, and she blinked.

“Sure. You haven’t even touched yours.” Donna prodded at the second mug she had prepared across from hers.

“I’ll get something there,” he dismissed, then took both of her hands to pull her up from the chair. “Off we go, then. Allons-y!”

It was hard not to get swept up in his enthusiasm even if Donna had about a million questions flying through her head, and it was even harder once they’d exited the TARDIS into a totally new world. There were cars flying hundreds of feet in the air!

They made their way through the small crowd of people milling about the booths, and Donna thought she’d lost him for a moment before the Doctor returned to her side with two foaming mugs. He looked practically giddy as he passed one to her.

Donna tried to beg off. “I’d rather have a water.”

“You are going to love it,” he insisted. “One, two, three.” They both raised the mugs to their lips and took a gulp. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it was sort of sweet with just a hint of spice.

“Lovely!” Donna couldn’t help a laugh, both at the surprise of how delicious the drink was and the foam that had gotten on his upper lip.

They finished their drinks while they walked along. Donna wouldn’t mind a couple passes back and forth; there was just so much to see!

“You have to get something while we’re here,” he insisted, steering her towards one of the booths. “Nobody ever leaves Shan Shen without a souvenir.”

“Didn’t know you bought into that sort of thing,” she remarked but dutifully began scanning the items on display. This particular vendor looked to specialize in jewelry. Donna browsed through the necklaces and picked up one to examine. It was a simple cord with something round and smooth like a pearl on the end, about the size of a golfball. It was a sort of blueish color with a dark center.

“That’s not a bad pick.” The Doctor placed his hand over hers and began tilting it and the necklace she held. “They call it the sunflower stone, because if it catches the light just right…”

“Oh!” The edge around the darkened center shone bright gold. Donna looked round to find him smiling at her.

“Good, isn’t it? Excuse me,” he called to the merchant manning this particular booth, who looked to be finishing up a sale.

“Are we interested in buying something today?”

“Yes, how much for the necklace?”

The merchant held out a hand and Donna obligingly passed the it over. “This? Ah yes, the hidden beauty. Found it at the bottom of the ocean, polished by the waves and sand for thousands of years before that. A very good choice for the lady, sir. I will not part with it for less than five-hundred.”

“Five-hundred?” The Doctor made a face but reached into his coat. Donna’s eyes went wide as she grabbed at his arm.

“No, no, you are not spending that much on me.”

He arched an eyebrow. “No?”

“No,” she repeated.

The Doctor nodded, but, rather than leave, he turned back to the merchant. “You heard the lady. You’re asking too much. Why not halve it?”

“Half? Absolutely not,” the man said.

“Well, we’ve got a problem, then, because — do you see her eyes?” Donna pressed her lips together and hoped to God she wasn’t blushing as the Doctor gestured to her. “Rings of gold just the same. They’re a perfect match. I mean, you can’t imagine finding someone more suited for it, can you?” He gave an exaggerated shrug. “You see the problem? I just have to have it for her.”

There was a pause as the merchant clearly considered, then bit out, “450.”

The Doctor was already shaking his head. “Oh, come on! 300.”

Donna walked on as the Doctor continued to haggle. She wasn’t sure she’d survive hearing him go on about her eyes twice in a row. Truth be told she couldn’t believe he’d just done it a first time!

This was...this was a date, wasn’t it? Maybe neither of them had said it, but that’s what they were doing. Here, at the beach, even Agatha Christie and the 20s had started out this same way. Only now there was an energy, an intent that hadn’t been there before that near-kiss last night.

Donna had worried he was trying to let her down, and it turned out he was just trying to do this properly. She looked back at him haggling away and allowed a full find smile to spread across her face.

Tonight, she’d tell him how she felt — or maybe he would; who knew what he had planned next? — and the first chance she got she’d ask to visit home. Donna knew she could count on Gramps to keep her Spaceman occupied while she pretended to run an errand for her mum. She’d have to call ahead, and she had a bit of money saved up — not like she was using it traveling the universe — and she could have the removal done and put that whole mess behind her. Her future was with the Doctor, and Donna wasn’t about to lose that for anything. With a determined nod, Donna walked on.

A woman called out to her, a fortune teller. “Your life predicted, the future foretold.”

“Oh, no thanks,” said Donna.

“Don't you want to know if you're going to be happy?”

“I'm happy right now, thanks.”

The woman wouldn’t let up, though, and when she offered to do it for free Donna relented. Maybe she was hoping to drum up some business, and it’d be a new experience at the least.

For being on a totally different planet, it seemed fortune telling worked pretty similarly to Earth. There was the little round table, the cloth draped over everything, and the first thing the woman did was take her hand and start reading her palm. About the only thing missing was the crystal ball.

“I can see...a man.”

Donna couldn’t help a scoff. Typical. At least she hadn’t paid anything!

“The most remarkable man,” the fortune teller continued. “For a most remarkable woman. Two halves coming together, drawn by fate—”

“Yeah, we’re not actually soulmates,” Donna decided to help her out.

“Then how did you meet him?”

“You’re supposed to tell me.”

The fortune teller looked up from her palm. “I see the future. Tell me the past. When did your lives cross?”

“It’s sort of complicated,” said Donna. “I don’t know anything about fate, but I ended up in a spaceship on my wedding day. Long story.”

“But what led you to that meeting?” The woman pressed.

Donna shrugged. “All sorts of things. But my job, I suppose. It was on Earth, this planet called Earth, miles away. But I had this job as a temp. I was a secretary at a place called HC Clements.”

It was like suddenly she was at HC Clements again, sitting at that old desk and Lance across the way, pointing at the coffee machine. Donna swayed and came back to herself in the tent.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s the incense,” the fortune teller told her. “Just breathe deep. This job of yours? What choices led you there?”

“There was a choice, six months before,” she said, and she could see it again. Her and her mum sitting in the car nattering on about Mr. Chowdry and his photocopy business. Only she could hear the fortune teller, too.

“Your life could have gone one way or the other. What made you decide?”

“I just did.” Donna didn’t like this much anymore. Something felt off. Why was she being so insistent? Why did it matter how she’d met the Doctor?

“But when was the moment? When did you choose?”

She couldn’t focus properly. It was like there were two conversations happening at once, her mum in the car and the fortune teller both urging her to turn right. “Stop it,” Donna said, not sure to whom she said it to.

Something latched onto her shirt. “What’s that?” She asked, trying to turn around, but the woman wouldn’t let go of her hands. “What’s on my back?”

“Make the choice again, Donna Noble, and change your mind,” the fortune teller commanded. “Turn right.”

Donna didn’t know what had come over her. There was something on her back, but she couldn’t see it, and she couldn’t remember why she hadn’t turned right anymore. She heard herself speak. “I’m turning…”

—-

Donna sat in the car wondering why she’d even offered her mum a lift on the way to the agency. Probably because it was her mum’s car. She really needed to look into getting one of her own. Maybe a Smart?

Her idle wondering couldn’t completely drown out her mother’s tirade, of course. Donna was pretty sure nothing could.

“Well, let me tell you, sweetheart. City executives don't need temps, except for practice,” said her mother. “Your time’ll be up soon as they’ve met their soulmate, then the job will be over, too.”

Did she always have to remind her? It wasn’t her fault she didn’t have someone’s name she could expect to run into someday. A little fun here and there was all she reasonably aim for.

But was that what she wanted? Her forties were fast approaching, as her mum also liked to bring up constantly. Fooling around would have to stop eventually. And if she couldn’t hope for a husband, than she might as well have a career to point to whenever someone asked what she was doing with her life.

“Yeah,” Donna sighed. “Suppose you’re right.” She switched the turn signal and made the right towards Griffin’s Parade and Mr. Chowdry’s.

She actually landed the job at his photocopy place and before six months was up had been promoted to personal assistant. Her mum really had been right after all! It was nice not having her calling up nagging all the time, nice not worrying about how she was going to cover the rent once her time at this or that office was up. She had roots, if not in a personal life then in a professional one.

Donna went out with some mates on Christmas Eve. What, just because she didn’t much like the holidays didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy a good drink! It was a good bit of fun; Nerys couldn’t make it, and Donna even surprised herself with her goodwill by buying a couple rounds for their table.

She couldn’t help noticing Alice acting a bit funny, though. “What's wrong? What is it?” Alice blinked. “Sorry?” 

“Did someone spill a drink on me?” “Why?” Asked Alice, as if she had know idea what Donna was talking about. “Why do you keep looking at my shoulder? What's wrong?” “I don't know.” Donna rolled her eyes. “Oh, don't tell me you're getting all spooky again. It was bad enough when you saw the ghost of Earl Mountbatten at the boat show. What are you looking at? What is it?” “It's like,” Alice struggled for a moment, then continued, “it's like there's something I can't see.”

Then a man burst into the pub shouting about a Christmas star, so of course they all had to go see what he was on about or if he was just drunk.

But sure enough, there was a something. It was huge and silver, just hanging in the air above them. Donna wasn’t sure if that was tinsel supposed to be covering it. It looked more like webbing. Regardless, it was incredible and impossible...and Donna felt like she’d seen it before. Was it from some movie?

“That's not a star. That's a web,” she stated with a confidence she didn’t know she had. “It's heading east. Middle of the City.”

Then electricity began shooting from the star and Donna found herself in a movie. Part of the faceless crowd getting killed, that figured.

She was about to run for cover like all the rest, but when she looked over her shoulder Alice was staring at her again. “Alice! There's a great big web star thing shooting at people, and you're looking at me?”

Alice met her eyes, looking horrified. “There is something on your back.” Then she ran for it.

Donna watched her go, then looked back at the star. What was going on? Why did she feel like she’d been through this before? She began to walk, unheeding of Veena’s calls for her to come back.

Her feet led her down to Canary Wharf. There were soldiers in red berets and tanks and a barricade. They fired on the star, and it finally stopped shooting electricity. Donna walked all the way to the edge of the barricade. People were being warned to keep back, but she didn’t listen like the rest of them. She snuck around the back of a truck and watched as one of the soldiers spoke into a radio.

“From the evidence, I'd say he managed to stop the creature. Some sort of red spider. Blew up the base underneath the barrier, flooded the whole thing. Over.” “And where is he now? Over.” “We found a body, sir. Over.” “Is it him? Over.” “I think so. He just didn't make it out in time.”

There was a stretcher being wheeled out that they’d laid a sheet over. As it was jerked to a halt in order to be lifted, a man’s arm fell out from under the sheet, a strange little pen that had been in his hand clattering to the ground.

“The Doctor is dead.” The soldier on the radio said some other things, but Donna found she wasn’t really listening. She could only stare until the body had been loaded into the back of the ambulance and the doors had slammed shut. Then she backed away from the horrible sight.

Why had she come out here? Anything could have happened to her. She could have died. But something had drawn her just as it was now repelling her.

She was so lost in thought she nearly didn’t notice the woman running towards her until she was upon her.

“What happened? What did they find?” She stopped just a few paces beyond Donna. “I'm sorry, did they find someone?” “I don't know,” said Donna, still in a bit of a daze. “A bloke called the Doctor, or something.”

“Well, where is he?” The woman demanded. She was young and blonde, Donna noted. “They took him away. He's dead.” The look on the other woman’s face had her asking, “I'm sorry, did you know him? I mean, they didn't say his name. Could be any doctor.” “I came so far.” “It- it could be anyone,” Donna tried to reassure her again.

The woman seemed to be trying to shake it off. “What's your name?” “Donna. And you?” “Oh, I was just passing by. I shouldn't even be here. This is wrong. This is so wrong.” Donna couldn’t help agreeing with her, though she said nothing aloud. She’d just noticed the woman kept trying to glance over her shoulder. “Sorry, what was it? Donna what?” “Why do you keep looking at my back?” “I'm not,” the blonde immediately insisted, even as she continued to do so.

“Yes, you are. You keep looking behind me. You're doing it now. What is it? What's there? Did someone put something on my back?”

She turned her head to check herself and when she looked back the blonde woman was gone. Donna hadn’t even heard her walk away.

When she finally made it back to her parents’ home it was late, but she found them both awake watching the news.

“There she is.” Her dad stood and wrapped her in a hug. “Your mum’s been worrying.”

Barely had he let her go when her mum started right up. “Veena phoned. Said you ran down to the wharf. What were you thinking? You could’ve been hurt. ”

“That was all done by the time I got there. I don’t know why I had to,” Donna confessed. “Guess I just wanted to see.”

“Well it wasn’t safe,” Her mother chided. “They’re saying the Thames has completely drained.”

“I know. There was a man they pulled out. He- he drowned — sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying about it all of a sudden.” Her dad had passed her his handkerchief, and she dabbed at her eyes. “Must have just hit me.”

“It’s a dreadful thing,” her father said as he patted her arm. “Drowned. Well he must have been caught up in it too fast to get himself out, poor fellow.”

It was the strangest thing. Donna couldn’t explain how, but for a brief second she wasn’t at home with her parents. Instead she was standing in some room made of concrete while water poured all around her, shouting up at someone, “Doctor! You can stop now!”

She came back to herself with a shake of the head. What had that been about?

“Donna, love, you alright?”

“Yeah, dad. Just tired. I think I’ll turn in early.”

Donna had the strangest dream that night. There was a man she’d never seen before standing in front of her and holding her hands. His eyes had been brown and full of warmth, but his smile had seemed sad all the same.

“Thank you, Donna Noble. It’s been brilliant. You’ve- you’ve saved my life in so many ways.”

There’d been the same soldiers in red berets standing behind him, and before she’d been able to ask, his hands had slipped out of hers, and he’d begun walking away.

“Hang on, what do you mean? Who are you? Where are you going?”

She’d watched him climb into the back of an ambulance and the soldiers drive him away, and it had felt wrong. Donna hadn’t been able to shake the thought that she was supposed to be there, too, wherever he was going. How was she supposed to save him if he up and left?

Of course upon waking up crying, Donna realized how ridiculous the whole thing was. She must have been all worked up from what she’d seen the night before. When had she ever done anything important, much less saved someone’s life?

She wiped at her eyes and splashed cold water on her face before heading downstairs for Christmas morning. There wasn’t much special about it; with Gramps stuck in hospital across the river there wasn’t really anyone to get them all in the spirit. They phoned him, of course, and passed presents around the table, and that was that. Same old life. Why had she expected that to change all of a sudden?

“There’s been nothing on the news about him,” Donna said a few days later. “That man they pulled out. I thought maybe I’d go to the service.” Maybe that blonde woman would be there and Donna could get her name and ask why she’d been staring at her back funny.

“He might’ve been homeless,” her mother suggested.

“I don’t think so. They called him a doctor.”

“Who did?”

“The soldiers that pulled him out.”

“Well how’d they know him?”

“How should I know?” Donna shrugged. “Not like I knew him.”

Donna soon forgot about him when her father’s diagnosis came back terminal. They tried treatments, of course, but though Donna tried to keep a positive attitude she just somehow knew. She was going to lose her dad.

Eventually, they simply brought him home from hospital and tried to make him comfy. Her mum hardly left his side, and once Donna heard him say, “That’s all I need, Sylvie.”

She took time off to make the funeral arrangements and stood with her mother all through the service and after at the grave. “Is it...worse?” She couldn’t help asking, despite something telling her she already knew the answer. “Knowing you were…?”

“I wouldn’t change a minute,” said her mother, eyes fixed on the headstone. Then she turned and left without another word.

Donna supposed her mother was right. After all, her father had had his soulmate and the family they’d built together with him to the very end. Could she ever hope to have that whenever it was her turn? Her job wasn’t about to hold her hand through it all.

It took ages for her to get to sleep that night, too caught up in grief and her own morbid wonderings. The pillow she cried into morphed into a man’s chest in her dreams, and the soothing beat of his heart with its strange rhythm finally let her drift off to a restful sleep. When she woke up without an arm wrapped around her or a hand rubbing her back in comfort, she felt lonelier than ever. She chalked it up to the mourning process and tried to forget about it.

Turned out her job wasn’t even going to hold her hand through next year. Donna barely got back into her routine before Mr. Chowdry was giving her the news she was being let go. She didn’t bother making a graceful exit — not like she’d be seeing any of those useless idiots ever again — and made sure to pack up whatever fit into the box she was given to collect her things.

She’d moved back home to help with her dad and now it seemed she’d be staying there a good while longer. Donna didn’t know how to feel about her mother’s apathy towards the whole situation, but she supposed she ought to be grateful it wasn’t causing a row.

Her Gramps didn’t seem to even register she’d been sacked; he was too engrossed in the news report about that hospital that had supposedly vanished and then came back. Aliens was his theory of course, which she and her mother both shot down.

“I am telling you it is getting worse, these past few years,” he insisted. “It's like, all of a sudden, they suddenly know all about us, and there's keen eyes up there and they're watching us, and they're not friendly.”

Donna volunteered to go out for chips just for something to do. Before she could make it very far, there was a flash of light and a loud noise up ahead, and a woman came running out in front of her. “Blimey! Are you alright? What was that, fireworks or—?”

She stopped, unable to believe her eyes for a minute. It was the same blonde woman from Christmas Eve!

She hardly seemed all that surprised to see Donna, asking her how she was and her eyes immediately drifting to her shoulder again.

“You’re doing it again,” Donna decided to tell her.

Things only proceeded to get weirder. The woman wanted to know what she was doing for Christmas, then suggested a getaway for her and her family.

“Can’t afford it,” Donna said bluntly.

“Well, no, you got that raffle ticket.”

Donna stiffened. “How do you know about that?”

“First prize, luxury weekend break. Use it, Donna Noble.”

“Why won’t you tell me your name?” Donna asked instead. The woman wouldn’t answer. “I think you should leave me alone,” she said, then turned and walked away.

Donna went back home and tried to put the whole strange meeting out of her mind. It must have been a lucky guess, her knowing about the raffle. It wasn’t like Donna had seen her following her around or anything. It was nothing.

She had a dream that night that Gramps met an alien and shook his hand. He kept showing it to her with a look of sheer wonder on his face. When Donna woke up, she tried to put that out of her mind, too.

In the end, Donna took the blonde’s advice. Not because she was worried or anything. Just that a luxury weekend break sounded nice. They could use that, the year they were having.

The hotel was brilliant. Their room was a bit of a squeeze, and poor Gramps ended up on the sofa, but it was a nice break away from home. She woke up early on Christmas morning, a first since she was a very young girl, and was getting ready for the day before either he or her mum had even woken up. She didn’t know why she was in such a good mood on Christmas of all days; maybe it was just that nice dream she’d had where some strange man had made it snow for her.

Her family had roused enough by the time the maid knocked with their breakfast, and she asked grandad to get the door while she finished fixing her hair.

The maid wheeled a whole cart in for them while her mum was going on about whatever program she had on the telly.

“Because I thought, nice early breakfast, and then we'll go for a walk. People always say that at Christmas. Oh, we all went for a walk. I've always wanted to do that. So, walk first, presents later, yeah?” She smiled at the thought, though none of her family appeared to have listened at all. Typical.

“Tienes algo en tu espalda.”

Donna turned around. “What?” Their maid was standing in the open doorway of the bathroom.

“Donna, look at the telly,” said her mother.

“Tienes algo en tu espalda,” the maid repeated. She was staring at Donna with the same kind of horror as Alice last Christmas.

“What does that mean? I don’t know what you’re saying,” she tried to explain.

“Tienes algo en tu espalda!” The maid shouted again, then turned and ran from the room. Donna could only stare.

“For God’s sake, Donna,” her mum said. “Don’t just stand there, come and look.”

“The object is falling on Central London. I repeat, this is not a hoax. A replica of the Titanic is falling out of the sky, and it's heading for Buckingham Palace. We're getting this footage from the Guinevere range of satellites.”

“Is that a film or something?” Donna asked. How could it possibly be real?

“The Royal Air Force has declared an emerg—” The broadcast cut off abruptly and seconds later the whole room shook.

They went outside with everyone else, and there was a towering cloud of smoke rising in the distance. Donna couldn’t believe it.

“I was supposed to be out there selling papers,” Gramps was saying. “I should have been there. We all should. We'd be dead.” “That's everyone. Every single person we know. The whole city,” said her mum. Donna shook her head. “Can't be.” “But it is. It's gone. London's gone.” Her Gramps looked at her. “If you hadn't won that raffle.”

The only reason she’d even entered it was because of that blonde...how had she known? Why had she warned her? When Donna looked over her shoulder, she saw the same maid from before staring right at her and pointing at her back.

Eventually, people began going back into their hotel rooms. Her family trailed in, still in a daze. Her mum began desperately calling up anybody she could get a hold of while her Gramps sat and watched the news with tears in his eyes. Donna didn’t know what to do with herself. London was a mushroom cloud, and all that maid had been able to do was stare at her. Just what did that mean?

People kept saying things, looking at her back odd. The only strange thing Donna could think of on her back was that stupid old mark — oh God, had people been catching sight of that? She’d thought for sure all her shirts and sweaters covered it up completely.

Donna retreated into the bathroom and stood facing away from the mirror, her hair tossed over one shoulder. She craned her neck to try and get a look, but her mark was definitely covered up. Donna tugged down on the hem of her sweater to see if maybe that was the problem, but—

“That’s not right,” she murmured. Donna hurriedly yanked the sweater over her head to get a proper look. Her mark was still there, but not all of it. Even if she had no bloody clue what it meant she’d had it long enough to know what it looked like. Some of the top circles were either totally or partially missing.

“Gramps?” She called, and the note of panic in her voice had him hurrying through the door.

“What is it, love?”

“Take a look at this. My mark, it’s not right. I mean less than usual.”

“Eh?” He stepped closer, peering at the strange symbols. “Looks smaller.”

“Yeah, some of it’s missing. Just gone. I don’t know when, but- but that’s not supposed to happen, is it? What’s it mean?”

Her grandad shrugged, at a loss. “Well, I don’t know, sweetheart. Never heard of that sort of thing before.”

Donna turned again to stare at it in the mirror. “But why’s it happening now? I mean what’s changed?”

Their stay at the hotel felt entirely short lived, even more so than it might have knowing they had nothing to return to. They were bundled instead into a hostel, overcrowded and grimy with barely enough food to go around. People were being put in queues for relocation, but it was longer for families that didn’t want to split up. The days seemed to drag on, with no one to talk to and nothing to do. Even if she hadn’t lost her job at poor Mr. Chowdry’s office, she’d have nowhere to work now. What were they going to do for money? The housing office didn’t seem to care; everybody knew the jobs were up in Glasgow, but where did they get sent? Bloody Leeds.

When they arrived in Leeds, they discovered they weren’t even to have a house to themselves. Practically another hostel. Rocco Colasantos introduced them all to his family and the Merchandanis with a cheer that might have grated on her were she not so exhausted. It said a lot that she was simply grateful to be able put her things down, even in their kitchen-turned-bedroom.

The narrow bathroom they were all going to share had a mirror at least. Donna shrugged out of her coat and examined her mark for the first time since they’d left the hotel. Even more of it had vanished into nothing, like it’d just been drawn in marker this whole time and was finally washing off. Donna reached back and touched the edge of it with her fingertips.

“Where are you going?” She wondered.

“Donna, I need the toilet.” Her mother knocked on the door causing it to swing open since she hadn’t shut it properly. “Are you still looking at that thing? What for?”

“Well it keeps disappearing, mum, look.”

Her mother didn’t bother, instead muttering, “Good riddance, if you ask me.”

“Yes, thank you mum,” said Donna, straightening out her shirt and pulling her coat on before she squeezed past her out of the bathroom.

“It’s just,” Donna whispered later in the darkened kitchen, her mother’s feet by her head as she laid on her stomach to face her Gramps. “I’ve lost my job, my home, everyone we know. I guess I figured I couldn’t lose anything else, but this...it feels like a part of me is just slipping away, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in marks and all that. You said that stuff couldn’t be for you,” he reminded her.

“I know, but maybe I was wrong. I mean, something has to be making this happen.” A thought occurred to her. “You don’t think it’s cos he’s dead, do you? I don’t know when my mark started going away, but he could’ve been in London when that Titanic crashed.”

“Never known it to work that way, sweetheart. Look here.” He sat up, and Donna got onto her knees in order to see as he yanked down the collar of his shirt.

She smiled at the familiar letters. “Gran.”

“Same as ever.” Her grandad shuffled back around to look at her. “See, your grandmother passing on doesn’t change what she meant to me. If you let it, that person changes your whole world. You might pass them on the street and never know it unless you take that chance.”

Donna thought that over. “So you think I’ve lost my chance?”

Her Gramps shrugged. “I’ve no idea what to think.”

Donna kept track of her mark every day now. She wished she’d been paying attention to it before. Little by little it kept going away, like it was eroding. She sat down once with a spare bit of paper and tried to draw the whole thing, so she had some kind of record of it. It was clear in her mind, but the circles and whatnot were all nonsense to her and didn’t come out right whenever she tried to write it down.

“Ah, soulmates,” said Rocco with a knowing smile as he watched her failed attempts. Gramps had told him all about her problem to see if he had any ideas or heard of anything similar. He hadn’t, which Donna wasn’t much surprised by, but had begun asking around all their neighbors to see if anybody had a Donna on their back.

“Back home, you name means lady,” he told her one evening over the scraps they’d all managed to put together for dinner. “Beautiful lady! So, we find you a lord, yes?”

Donna shook her head with a wan smile. “Not sure there’s many lords walking around these days.” That radiation poisoning in the south probably got most.

At night, she didn’t dream of any lords. Instead, there was that same stranger holding her hand or folding her into the kind of warm, safe hug she craved during the day. She would laugh with him, run with him, and very nearly manage to kiss him before being woken by the shouts of the Merchandani children or an army jeep rolling past the house. Donna found herself missing a friend she’d never had more than the ones she’d actually lost.

The promised aid from America never came. Instead, Donna sat with the others and watched alien fat fly up into a spaceship, the fat of sixty million people. The bizarre urge to wave nearly came over her. Donna retreated to the kitchen.

She couldn’t help privately wondering if her mother was right; nothing was ever going to get better. It all felt so pointless, like all they could do was watch and wait for the next disaster.

The whole house pulled together that night, trying to forget for a moment with a bit of singing, only for shots to ring out just outside. Donna followed closely behind her Gramps and Rocco to see a soldier firing on his own jeep as a thick cloud of gas spewed from the exhaust pipe. They couldn’t get it to stop, not even by turning the vehicle off.

Then one of the soldiers look at her with wide eyes. “You, lady. Turn round! Turn around now!”

He pointed his gun at her, and Donna froze. What had she done?

Everyone was shouting; the soldier, her Gramps and Rocco, her mum. He kept pointing his gun. Slowly, Donna turned to show him her back as he kept demanding, her eyes squeezed shut and her arms raised above her head.

“Sorry,” said the soldier. “I thought I saw…” He trailed off, at a loss.

Her grandad started to rip into him for that. It was about the angriest she’d ever seen him.

She might have stuck around to watch, but a familiar flash of light appeared at the bottom of the street. Donna left them all and walked down to it, paying no attention to her mother’s cries for her to come back. Around the corner, she found the blonde.

They walked a bit and sat on a bench, far enough away from any of the army jeeps to be able to breathe just a little easier. The woman explained about the ATMOS devices in the cars and that someone was about to take care of it. Then the sky lit up in flames before clearing completely, the gas gone.

“That was the Torchwood team,” the woman told her. “Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, they gave their lives. And Captain Jack Harkness has been transported to the Sontaran home world. There's no one left.” Donna didn’t like to think about that. This was them when they still had defense? “You're always wearing the same clothes. Why won't you tell me your name?” “None of this was meant to happen,” was the blonde’s non-answer. “There was a man. This wonderful man, and he stopped it. The Titanic, the Adipose, the ATMOS, he stopped them all from happening. Donna thought about it. There was only one man they sort of had in common, by a very loose interpretation. “That Doctor?” “You knew him.” Donna looked at her. “Did I? When?” “I think you dream about him sometimes. It's a man in a suit. Tall, thin man. Great hair,” She remarked. “Some really great hair.”

Donna frowned. How did the woman know what she was dreaming about?

“You've travelled with him, Donna. You've travelled with the Doctor in a different world.” “I never met him, and he's dead.” “He died underneath the Thames on Christmas Eve, but you were meant to be there. He needed someone to stop him, and that was you,” the woman said. “You made him leave. You saved his life.”

Donna had that same sudden flash of memory, the water raining down all around her in a wedding dress. “Doctor, you can stop now!” She could see the man more clearly now, great hair plastered to his forehead and water soaking his suit as he blinked down at her, like she’d broken him from some terrible trance.

She didn’t understand. She’d been meant to meet him? Like...destiny?

But they weren’t meant to meet. He’d died. Donna had seen it. This woman wasn’t making any sense. She stood from the bench with the heels of her hands pressed to her temples. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.”

“Something’s coming, Donna. Something worse.”

She went on about other universes, and needing the Doctor even though he was dead, and something called the darkness, and it was all just nonsense to her. As incomprehensible as what little remained of her mark.

“Well, what do you keep telling me for?” She finally burst out. “What am I supposed to do? I'm nothing special. I mean, I'm- I'm not. I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.” The woman grinned at her, like this was all just some fun game they were playing. “Donna Noble, you're the most important woman in the whole of creation.” Donna shook her head, a nasty sort of smile twisting her lips. “Oh, don't. Just don't. I'm tired. I'm so tired.”

“I need you to come with me,” the blonde insisted.

“Yeah, but it’s not really about me, though, is it?”

That got a frown.

“Cause I figured it out,” Donna continued. “The ‘something on my back’. There isn’t anything.”

The woman leaned slightly to the side. “No,” she said, “not sure what you mean.”

“But it’s disappearing. And that’s what’s different about me, that’s what makes me special or whatever, cause that’s not supposed to happen. Just take a look,” she demanded, pulling at the collar of her coat.

The blonde circled around behind her, slow and sort of wary, then peered down her shirt. “Hold on. This is your mark?”

“Used to be bigger,” Donna told her. “More circles. I could never figure out what they meant, cause they’re nothing like an alphabet.”

“I don’t think they’re even human,” the woman murmured.

“Wait, are you saying my mark’s in alien? Like all those things that have been coming here?” With her luck, her soulmate was one of the ones made out of fat.

“I didn’t know this could happen,” said the blonde, and when Donna looked back the other woman was blinking heavily, as if to stave off tears. “I thought it translated. It has to.”

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” the woman said quickly. Then she turned and began hurrying away. “Uh, three weeks, Donna!” She called back in reminder. Before Donna could say anything else, she faded away right in front of her. Like she’d never been there.

Donna couldn’t understand it. She’d thought she had figured out why this lady kept after her, only it turned out her vanishing mark had nothing to do with it.

Three weeks later they took the Colasantos away. Donna thought the image of them in that truck, so resigned and hopeless as it drove off faster than she could run, would never leave her. Nor would her grandfather’s tears. They’d been innocent people, what did it matter that they weren’t English enough for some?

Donna knew it wouldn’t stop there, either. Hadn’t they gotten this spot because the last family missed a payment? They needed money. But the representative she spoke with at the army said she wasn’t qualified and sent her on her way.

She told her mother, who barely left her bed anymore, as much when she got back to the house. “You were right. You said I should’ve worked harder at school. I suppose I’ve always been a disappointment.”

If anything could get her up and in spirits, it had to be that, right? Donna knew her mum could never resist having a go at her, particularly when she knew she was right.

But she didn’t even turn around. “Yeah.”

She found her grandfather out back with his telescope, one of the few possessions they’d managed to hang onto. If there was any benefit to all this, he didn’t need to climb a hill to stargaze; there wasn’t much light pollution in Britain anymore.

He didn’t ask about her job hunt; he could probably already tell by the look on her face.

“How’s your mark?”

“Almost gone,” she sighed. “Figures. He must have seen where my life was going and said ‘No thanks’. Not like I can do anything right, anyway.” She looked at him as he fiddled with the telescope. “I always imagined, your old age, I'd have put a bit of money by. Make you comfy. Never did. I'm just useless.”

He didn’t reply.

Donna narrowed her eyes. “You're supposed to say, no you're not.”

“Ha, it must be the alignment.” He kept fiddling with the telescope, growing increasingly agitated.

“What’s wrong?”

He had her look through the lens, but all Donna could see was darkness even as her Gramps insisted he’d had it pointed at Orion.

“It was there. An entire constellation. Your mark’s not the only thing going missing.” He sat back and gaped up at the dark sky. “Oh, my God! Donna, look. The stars are going out.”

She didn’t have to search very far for the blonde woman. When she found her, all Donna said was, “I’m ready.”

She was lead to a Land Rover, and they were driven away from Leeds. The whole journey to wherever they were going, the blonde kept sneaking glances at her.

“What?” Donna asked when her patience inevitably snapped.

“Sorry, it’s just. I should say sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re coming with me, Donna, and sorry, so sorry, but you’re going to die.”

They arrived at a warehouse. It was filled with more of those soldiers in their red berets and some scientists in lab coats. There was a circle of mirrors and a few feet behind that some blue box that Donna couldn’t seem to stop looking at, even when a woman stepped forward and saluted the blonde at her side.

“Ma’am.”

The woman dismissed the officer’s — Captain Erisa Magambo — formality, though it turned out the reason for the captain’s address was that she didn’t know the blonde’s name either. Apparently that was because of not wanting to wreck things with realities by saying too much, though Donna didn’t get why she’d told her so much about a dead Doctor she was supposed to have met, then.

The blonde and Captain Magambo started discussing whether something was awake. That turned out to be the blue box. There were a bunch of wires and cables running out of the doors and to the circle of mirrors which Donna thought she ought not to touch, but the blonde told her to go inside the box anyway.

Donna did. “No way.”

She couldn’t believe it, and had to dart in and out a few times just to confirm what she was seeing. How did that huge room fit inside that little box? It was too weird!

Donna had another flash of memory; this time the man in the suit was walking along at her side and saying, “It’s bigger on the inside, that’s all.”

Had she really done this before?

The blonde woman told her about the ship, that it had belonged to the Doctor and was dying without him. The whole world seemed to be dying without him, and Donna still couldn’t quite wrap her head around someone like that needing someone like her.

“Do you want to see it?” The blonde asked her, nodding to her back.

“No,” was her first answer. But she’d come all this way, and for whatever reason everything was going to get worse if she didn’t go through with it. “Oh, go on.”

She was led into the circle of mirrors and told to stand there as they activated it. For a moment Donna was blinded by the lights, but as she blinked the spots away she caught sight of her reflection — and the giant insect hanging onto her back.

Her breathing picked up, and she tried to hold back the panic as the woman explained.

“It feeds off time by changing time. By making someone's life take a different turn, like er, meetings never made, children never born, a life never loved. But with you, it's—”

“But I never did anything important.”

“Yeah, you did. One day, that thing made you turn right instead of left.”

Donna tried to think. Turning right? How many times had she done that? “When was that?”

“Oh, you wouldn't remember. It was the most ordinary day in the world. But by turning right, you never met the Doctor, and the whole world just changed around you.”

For some reason, Gramps’ words came back to her: “If you let it, that person changes your whole world. You might pass them on the street and never know it unless you take that chance.”

“I didn’t lose my chance,” she realized.

The blonde looked up. “What?”

“I didn’t lose my chance,” she repeated. “I didn’t miss it. It got taken from me. By this—this thing.” Donna gestured at her back. “That’s why my mark’s disappeared, cos my whole life changed. I never met him.”

“There’s a lot of people you were supposed to meet on your travels, Donna,” the blonde told her.

“This is not relevant to the mission,” said Captain Magambo.

“But I don’t get it,” said Donna, ignoring her.“You said I was meant to meet him.” She stared at the blonde, a horrible realization coming over her. “Were you lying? You just needed me for this, to be some kind of host?”

“No. No, Donna, I was wrong. You’re not just a host. We’re getting separate readings from you, and they’ve been there since you were born. I thought it was just the Doctor we needed, but it’s the both of you. The Doctor and Donna Noble, together—but to stop the stars from going out, not anything to do with marks.”

Donna felt overwhelmed. The woman had kept saying she was meant to be with this Doctor. Were they soulmates or weren’t they? She couldn’t concentrate while she could see the bug; it was just too horrible. “Turn it off, please.”

The captain did so.

“It’s still there, though,” she said. The blonde nodded. “What can I do to get rid of it?”

“You’re going to travel in time.”

Donna was kitted out with a jacket that weighed about half what she did with all the wires attached to it, a fancy watch of some kind, and a glass of water.

“Just remember, when you get to the junction, change the car's direction by one minute past ten.”

Their rudimentary machine was beginning to power up. Donna tried to prepare herself; she had no idea what time travel would be like, even though she’d apparently done it in another life. And would do it again, once she’d fixed everything.

She tried to recall those brief flashes from her dreams and memories of the man the blonde had claimed was the Doctor. She’d said he thought Donna was special. What did Donna think of him? Was it really worth risking everything on a time travel stunt none of these people were sure would work, just to get back to a world where they were together?

The only answer she could find within herself was yes.

“I’m ready,” Donna said aloud.

“One minute past ten,” the woman reminded her.

“Because I understand now,” Donna continued. “You said I was going to die, but you mean this whole world is going to blink out of existence. But that's not dying, because a better world takes its place. The Doctor's world. And I'm still alive.”

The blonde said nothing.

“That's right, isn't it? I don't die. If I change things, I don't die. That's- that's right, isn't it?” The pitying smile that came to the woman’s face made Donna‘s heart plummet. “I'm sorry.”

“But I can't die. I've got a future. With the Doctor. You told me!”

“Activate!” Shouted the captain. Sparks flew, and then Donna felt as though she was being pulled across an impossible distance in an unimaginably short time. The air left her lungs and she fell forward onto hands and knees.

The first thing Donna was aware of was the sounds around her. People walking and talking, cars driving, music from radios and speakers. A city. Her home, as if it had never been destroyed.

Donna could only gasp with joy for a brief moment before she realized something—this was Sutton Court. She was meant to be on Little Sutton Street. “I’m half a mile away. I’m half a mile away!”

She checked the watch she’d been given and felt another jolt of panic.

“Four minutes? Oh, my God.”

Donna leapt to her feet and started running. She couldn’t miss this, she just couldn’t. She didn’t even know what would happen if she did. But she had to stop herself turning right to ensure the survival of London, to keep the world from going to hell, and to save a man from drowning.

She ran until her leg muscles were burning, and the air was stabbing her lungs. It was 9:59 and she had only just made it to the end of Ealing Road. There was nothing left in her. She couldn’t run anymore.

“I’m not going to get there.”

Donna remembered the blonde’s words: “You’re going to die.”

A truck was trundling down the road towards her, and Donna finally understood what the plan had been all along. She closed her eyes and stepped off the pavement.

There were screeching brakes, then she was flying through the air and hitting the ground. Maybe it was shock, but she couldn’t quite feel the pain. There were people all around, and she didn’t know when they’d gotten there or what they were saying. She couldn’t even move.

Then through the crowd came the blonde. The woman leaned over her, face impassive. Donna wondered how she’d gotten here.

“Tell him this. Two words.”

Just as Donna’s eyes closed, the blonde whispered in her ear.

“Bad Wolf.”

Over that, she could hear her own voice. “I’m going left...left...left…”

Everything hurt, and nothing made sense. She was dead, but she wasn’t, and Donna screamed as time rewound and reformed.

The street and the blonde were gone, and she was sitting back in the fortune teller’s tent, everything coming back to her in a rush. Turning left, the job at HC Clements, meeting Lance, the wedding, the Doctor. It all made so much sense, and she was alive, and the universe felt right again.

Something fell off her, and Donna stood to see it was that same huge bug, it’s legs writhing for a moment before they stilled.

“What the hell is that?”

You were so strong,” said the woman. She was looking at Donna with a kind of terror. “What are you? What will you be? What will you be?!”

Before Donna could say anything, the fortune teller fled out the back.

Donna spun back around as the tent flap at the front was pushed up, revealing the Doctor. “Everything alright?”

He must have been looking for her. He was alive and safe and smiling and Donna had never felt such a relief before.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, almost stumbling as she came forward and threw her arms around him.

The Doctor returned her hug, though when she pulled back asked, “What was that for?”

How could she really explain? That she’d lived through nearly two years without him, and it had been awful and cold and lonely? That she hadn’t known what she was missing, only that it was so important? That she loved him?

Donna merely shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, and hugged him again. In his arms, it all just felt like some horrible nightmare, and even now Donna was having trouble remembering it all.

“Hold on,” said the Doctor, stepping back but leaving his hands on her waist as he stared at something on the ground behind her. “What’s this?”

Donna looked over her shoulder and shuddered. Right, the bug. “That woman put it on my back, I think.”

He moved around her and crouched down to examine the thing. “It’s dead. How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know.” Donna watched him pick it up and move to the little table. He grabbed one of the incense sticks and began prodding at it. “It was strange. She was going on about me turning right instead of left and changing my life or whatever, only it all went sort of wrong.”

“Wrong?”

Donna took the unoccupied chair. “Well all these horrible things kept happening, aliens and whatnot, and no one could stop them because—well, you’d died.”

The Doctor stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. “Because you turned right?”

“I turned right and took this different job my mum wanted me to and cause I never went to HC Clements—”

“You never appeared in the TARDIS,” he finished for her. “Ah.” He nodded to himself, as if it made perfect sense that he’d died.

Donna reached out hesitantly and placed a hand on his arm. “Doctor—”

“The real question is, if I died, how can we be having this conversation? See, this thing is one of the Trickster’s Brigade.” He prodded at the beetle again. “Changes a life in tiny little ways. Most times, the universe just compensates around it, but with you? Great big parallel world. Funny thing is, seems to be happening a lot to you.”

Donna took her hand away. “How do you mean?”

“Well, the Library and then this. The fact you can even remember so much about this is something, even.”

“I remembered stuff from here when I was there,” she told him.

The same thing had happened in the Library. Miss Evangelista had pointed it out, that she’d been protected from the integration.

Donna shrugged it off. “Just goes with the job, I suppose.”

“Sometimes I think there's way too much coincidence around you, Donna,” said the Doctor. “I met you once, then I met your grandfather, then I met you again. In the whole wide universe, I met you for a second time.” He was staring at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. “It's like something's binding us together.”

Donna sat back in surprise. That kind of talk people usually reserved for soulmates, and they were hardly— “Oh!”

“Donna?”

Her hand had darted to her back, and Donna tried her best to morph it into some kind of neck massage as the Doctor watched her with worry. But her mark. Had it come back?

Donna couldn’t explain the bubble of anxiety that still dwelled within her at the thought. Hadn’t she been wishing to get rid of it for weeks now? She knew she loved the Doctor, but she couldn’t quite forget the panic in that world as her mark had slowly faded away, like a door closing on her future.

Sure, she’d gotten things mixed up about who her soulmate was—that was one thing she’d never be able to tell him about that parallel world and live it down. But if the life she’d gotten back included a chance of meeting her actual soulmate...could she pass it up?

Somehow, not getting the job at HC Clements and not meeting the Doctor changed her destiny. Changed it so severely she lost her soulmate. That meant he had to be the key, didn't he?

And what if he was? Did she really want to know after all? Donna found she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it was important somehow.

“Look, I need you to do something for me, but before that...I’ve sort of got to come clean about something.”

She hesitated a moment longer. Could she really do this? Her life as it was now, that was what she’d dreamed of and died for in that other world.

The Doctor was watching her with those big brown eyes full of earnest concern. “Donna, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

The date, the necklace, everything—it wouldn’t be right, wouldn’t be fair to him if she wasn’t honest, would it?

“I lied about not having a mark—and I don't want to hear it, cause I already know about yours.”

“What?” The Doctor yelped.

“I’m not upset,” she said, for he’d lost all his color, and if his eyes grew any wider, they might just pop out of his skull. “I’m just saying, there's no reason for either of us to be upset since we both lied.”

“You know,” he repeated. “About my mark. And you're okay with it?”

“Of course I’m okay with it.” What, did he think he needed her permission to have one? “But see, my mark’s in some other language. It’s not from Earth, and the Library didn’t know it. Even the TARDIS won’t translate it for me. But I’m thinking maybe you’d know it or be able to find it if you don’t know what it says.”

The Doctor said nothing. He still seemed thrown by her confession, which she supposed was understandable. Probably wondering why she’d brought it up now after all this time. He had that look where he wasn’t actually seeing what he was staring at.

“Spaceman,” Donna tried again. He blinked and refocused on her. “Would you read it for me?”

His mouth opened, but it took a couple tries for him to form his answer. “Course.”

Donna took a deep breath. This was it. “Okay.” She stood up and turned her back to him, then held her hair to the side as she tugged her shirt collar down.

The silence was absolute save for her breathing. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected; a name rattled off, an exclamation of the language of origin, a sorry? But the moment stretched on...and on...and on. He had to have something by now, right?

“Doctor?” When he still said nothing. Donna turned around.

He was absolutely thunderstruck. She didn’t think he’d ever been so stunned, not even when she’d appeared on his TARDIS or spotted him across the room at Adipose Industries.

A nervous smile rose to her lips. “What’s that look about? What’s it say?”

Something was wrong, had to be.

“Doctor?”

[avalonbayblog]

Tech Support  (BillyxAvalon)

Billy is, once again, working on upgrading the rangers’ zords and weapons and this time Avalon is a willing participant to help. (aka, the time Billy finally found out he had feelings for Avalon, before Kimberly dragged it out of him).

Inspired by this post (x)

-

“What are you up to today?”

“I’m running diagnostics on the Zords and determined by the results of those tests I will then facilitate the capacities the hydraulics will be able to handle while under certain pressures of battle,” Billy explained before clarifying with, “Tests, tests, and more tests.”

“Fancy an assistant?” Avalon asked.

“I’d love one.”

Billy wasn’t sure what to expect, really. He wasn’t one that many people would call anal-retentive. If he were being gratuitous he’d say he could be as laid-back as Zack at the best of times. At the worst the blue ranger could get a little persnickety. But who liked having fingerprints mar computer and video screens? Who liked having to take the time to clean up a mess that wasn’t a mess beforehand? Who liked to have their work messed up when he had a structure order to everything it.

Not to mention what everyone lovingly dubbed his techno-speak. It was a part of him and always had been. But he saw the way everyone looked at him as he continued to speak—or ramble as his parents also lovingly pointed out. Saw the looks when he finished. The half-second pause as they tried to work through what he had said before inevitably asking him to repeat himself.

‘English please’.

He thought he was speaking English. It wasn’t his fault he preferred to use the big vocabulary he had learned through his numerous studies and pieces of literature that lined the walls of his house and the library when he had the free time.

It was probably the only thing in life that actually ticked him off.

So much so that as much as he tried to keep a straight face, Trini, so far, had been the only one he could handle for a length of time. Kimberly, as much as he loved her energy, was a little too energetic for the Command Center. Jason was a little too peaceful about things going on. Zack didn’t take it as seriously as he could and Tommy…Tommy tried. His forgetfulness didn’t help.

When Bailey joined him in the Command Center it was a match made in heaven, she enjoyed the sciences and alien technology that they came across with their zords and weapons. But she was a young girl with her own set of friends and coming into her own in the world. But she wasn’t always available for some help.

Having Avalon helping him wasn’t too foreign. He’d subject her to many moments of being his guinea pig for DNA recon due to their proximity. She initially whined and complained about it but dutifully handed over saliva, strands of hair, or nail clippings when asked. Soon afterwards, she could have the samples prepared for him before he knew he needed to ask for them.

He watched as pleasant surprise shot across her face, making her stormy, dark brown eyes brighten. Much like a skyline after a rainfall. The clouds broke away and sunlight came through. The smile that came to her face was one she didn’t show often enough. Then it was clouded over once more and she suddenly scowled at him. Billy blinked in surprise, eyebrows coming together.

Logically, he knew there was nothing he’d done in the last couple of seconds that could have made her irritated at him. She did have random bouts of mood swings and knew it was from her trust issues. If he knew her as well as he thought he did—which was very likely—she wasn’t sure why he agreed o have her in the Command Center alongside him.

“What” Billy asked the question with a little laugh to his tone. He couldn’t help it. The scowl on her face and her smaller stature made her look like a little kid that was having a tantrum. Not the powerful force to be reckoned with in and out of battle.

“What?” Avalon parroted.

“Why are you…glaring like that?” He asked. He lowered his coffee mug from his lips and moved to the sink to rinse it out. With a few quick movements he had it rinsed, washed, and dried, sitting neatly in drying rack. Everything back where it needed to be. Then he turned back to Avalon, patiently waiting for her explanation.

Once again, he found himself unable to stop watching her. He could see the storm of emotions brewing through her eyes. Her shoulders slumped and she started to tug at the sleeves of the orange flannel shirt tied around her waist. Finally, she lifted her head, slapped her hand against her thigh.

Her eyes met his.

“Usually you prefer to do these things yourself,” she said.

Ah.

It was true; he could be a bit of a lone-wolf at times. It was never intentional. Sometimes he got so into what he was doing that everything tended to fall by the wayside. Or maybe it was that he didn’t quite feel comfortable around them. He was the odd man out in terms of athletic amongst his friends. He wasn’t a wimp by any means, being taught martial arts and gymnastics from his friends but it was never his forte.

“Why would you want me to help?”

“Because I enjoy your company,” he said honestly.

“Oh.”

And that was all that needed to be said by way of explanation. It was the truth. HE enjoyed her company. It was a bit of a bragging point for him. He was the first one of their group she had really opened up to. By his count she was the only one that she wasn’t too hostile with when they first met. Not that he was keeping score. It was a simple observation. Just like he was the first one that she’d given a nickname to. It had annoyed him at first, who wanted to be known as a short, blue, elfish creature.

Then he’d heard the ones she’d given the rest of the rangers and was grateful for small favors. It had grown on him pretty quickly once he realized the intent behind it. He’d studied Australian culture shortly after meeting her, knowing it was something that many of them did over there. Give nicknames to those they considered friends. He was flattered and pleasantly surprised to know she considered him one, first. Truth be told he didn’t always know how to act around her rather than being straightforward.

It was a wonder that he had found himself growing close to her, understanding her so well. She was a lone-wolf in her own way and protected her pack—her little sister and their friends—as fiercely as an alpha wolf would.

He believed the word for it was kismet.

-

Billy pulled a headset over his ears. “Alpha, please run a diagnostic on the Tyrannosaur zord while I go into the cockpit to asses the damage there.”

“Right away, Billy,” Alpha agreed, toddling off to do what he was told.

“What do you want me to do?” Avalon asked.

She stood a few feet away from him, glancing around the Command Center’s zord hangar. Every time the zords were dismissed after battle they went back to their hiding spots. However, when it was time for them to have maintenance work done they were summoned to the hangar.

Thankfully, it didn’t look like there was too much damage that needed to be fixed. But looks could be deceiving. He had an innate understanding of the inner workings of the zords to know when something as small as a chipped piece of a control panel could mean structural damage inside.

“I want you to wait with Alpha to see what diagnostics says,” Billy explained. He adjusted the microphone lead so that it rested by his mouth. “And relay the information to me.”

Avalon lifted a flat hand to her forehead and saluted him. “Aye, aye, Smurf.”

A smirk raised to Billy’s lips. He turned and grabbed onto the rungs of the ladder directly to his right and quickly climbed up. He walked along the catwalk, gently sliding his fingers over the metallic finish of the Pterodactyl, Saber-Tooth Tiger, and Triceratops zords before coming to a stop at the Tyrannosaurus zord. Then he carefully lowered himself down the hatch at the top of the zord and wedged his way into the cockpit.

It smelled faintly like mechanics, sweat, and cologne. Their consistent and often sporadic calls to action had caused for everyone’s increase in their personal hygiene. It seemed that Jason had taken Zack’s advice of the cologne to ‘attract the babes’ as he put it. If only those babes knew Jason was a ranger, it’d probably cut out the middle man and keep Billy from choking to death every time he went to do basic maintenance.

A wry smile came to Billy’s face and he turned his attention back to the computers inside the zord. Everything looked to be okay from the first glance. No chips to the control panel, no buttons jammed into its housing in desperation of needed power. No joysticks knocked loose form their tracks. But that was only on the outside. With the hardware inside composing of wires and fragile pieces of machinery, anything could’ve happened.

Goldar was nothing short of ruthless when fighting against the Megazord. Almost as if the mere sight caused him great displeasure.

Billy’s wry smile widened at the thought of the golden monster instead deciding to use his words when fighting against the rangers. If only they could be that lucky. A simple conversation to send all the monsters away. It’d sure make their jobs a hell of a lot easier. Taking a screwdriver from his belt, Billy pried open a metallic panel that lead to the wires inside.

Leaning over it, he frowned. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong. But none of the zords ever came out of a fight with little structural damage. Now that he thought about it, it was typically Avalon’s Orange Stegosaurus zord that was the one most damaged. She did have a very offensive offense tactic in her fights. Or else it was easier for her to unleash her aggression on the monsters rather than the other rangers as she’d done before.

A familiar crackling sound filled his ears and Billy lifted his head to press into the ear-piece. “What’s the verdict, Alpha?”

“There’s smoke coming out of the bottom of the zord, is that good?” Avalon’s voice replied over the radio. In the background, he could hear Alpha’s frantic ‘ay yi yi yi yi’s’. For a moment, Billy was floored by the completely casual tone to Avalon’s voice.

Smoke in a zord was never a good thing.

Billy pressed his finger firmly against the ear-piece so he could respond, “No, Av, that’s not good.”

“Next question; is it normal?”

She was going to give him a heart attack. He knew that for sure. She was going to make him drop dead from stress alone. Billy quickly climbed out of the cockpit of the zord. His feet practically grew wings with the speed he got himself back down to the ground where Avalon stood calmly next to Alpha, who flapped his hands towards the last vapors of smoke that dissipated in seconds.

“As soon as he finished running the diagnostic, something started happening with the tail, mate,” Avalon explained. She poked her cheek with the end of the antenna sticking out of the radio. She looked it over for a moment. “Looks to me like the circuits have been fried. I reckon it could use some new rotors, too.”

“If you knew what’s wrong with it, why did you ask me?” Billy asked.

Avalon’s eyes flashed. She pointed the end of the antenna towards him. “To see that look on your face, Smurf.” He rolled his eyes. “Honestly? Because you’re not going to be able to fix that yourself.”

Billy pressed a hand to his chin. He took the scanner that Alpha handed to him and waved it over the tail section of the zord. It beeped towards the inside, where the tail connected with the body of the zord. “You’re right,” he agreed. “The mechanics at this point of connection are routinely difficult to handle on one’s own.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

“We’ll need a screwdriver, a wire cutter, a socket wrench, and a flash light.”

It took only a few seconds for the items to be acquired before Billy put himself on his back and wiggled his way underneath the Zord. He pressed the flashlight into his mouth, using his teeth to hold it steady while he looked over the parts. Avalon scuttled up next to him, carefully holding onto the other pieces of equipment.

Reaching up a hand, Billy pulled the flashlight form his mouth and waved it over the section that had been smoking. The parts were covered in soot, an acrid scent hanging around them. It was all he could do to not choke on it. No matter how used to the different smells from the zords, the first wave always shocked him.

“See this?”

“Uh-huh.”

“There’s structural damage to the zord that I hadn’t previous observed. I can’t recall it taking in any hits from the last couple of fights. So, it must be standard wear and tear over the countless uses of the zord. These sockets here are starting to become loose, making the wires neighboring them to fray and become structurally unsound. Then these soldered points have commenced to corrode and melt against each other. They need to be detached and re-worked independently.”

“So, where are we looking at to start?”

Billy heard a rustling sound then felt her breath on his cheek. His eyebrows came together when he noticed it. It was a little distracting. His heart rate immediately increased and he felt his hands start to shake. Something strange squirmed in his stomach. How peculiar.

Billy turned his head to answer her and was gob smacked by how close she was to him. He could see every individual freckle that dusted her cheeks and nose, see the freckle that sat right above the right side of her upper lip, position perfectly vertical to the one above her eyebrow. Could clearly see the scar that ran from the bottom of the right side of her jaw that stretched up to the apple of her cheek. Could see her long, dark eyelashes stand out against her paler skin.

He’d always thought she had a striking face, her eyes incredibly intense. But up close…

“Billy?” Avalon asked.

Billy turned his attention away. He had no idea what came over him. Yes, he felt she was attractive, but it was just a factual statement. Just as he thought the same about Marge, Melissa, Trini, Kimberly, and other girls at Angel Grove High. It was scientific, they were all aesthetically pleasing.

Keep telling yourself that, the voice inside his head teased.

Now Billy frowned. Where had that come from.

“Yes, uh, it would be best if we started by taking apart the soldered points so that the tail can be detached.” He swallowed hard, lifting his flashlight once more. The beam of light wobbled back and forth. “That way we’ll be able to wholly ascertain how profound the structural impairment is.”

“Gotcha.” Avalon carefully placed the screwdriver on the ground beside her and picked up the socket wrench. She squinted, searching for the easiest point of entry then placed the wrench against it, moving her wrist back and forth to start loosening the bolts.

She worked deftly. Ping. Ping. Ping. Bolts dropped down into her hand by the second.

Something struck Billy then. “How did you know what was wrong with the rotors?” He asked.

A chuckle escaped Avalon’s lips. “I guess that’s the one bright side to having dated Chase for a while, yeah?” She pointed out. “He knows more about cars than anybody. I reckon, alien technology aside, it’d work out the same way.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I’m surprised he had more to say than what hit we were going to do next. It became his life.”

“Gang life can be pretty difficult to get out of,” Billy said. He didn’t have to explain it to her. She knew firsthand. He often wondered if she continued to run with them out of fear or because if it was the same reason he, statistically, knew to be true. It was harder to get out than to stay in.

“Not if you don’t want to get out,” Avalon pointed out. “And Chase definitely doesn’t. It’s the only life he knows, he likes the power.” A slow smile started to work its way to her face. “Imagine if he ended up being a power ranger.”

Billy thought about it and smiled as well. What a preposterous idea. Being a ranger was for those who were true at heart. It as how the power chose you. Still, seeing the vicious teen as a ranger was a humorous idea equally.

“What color do you think he’d have?” He asked.

“Knowing him?” She paused for exactly one second. “The girliest color you could imagine.”

“Pink?”

“Maybe even yellow, mate. Can you imagine the bloke in yellow?” She started to giggle. “What would his dinosaur be?”

“Well, considering we have the Mastodon and the Saber-Toothed Tiger, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a dinosaur,” Billy pointed out.

He thought about it for a moment. It came to him almost immediately.

“A chicken.”

He said it so dead-pan, so frank, so flat that Avalon burst out into hysterical laughter.

Billy found himself laughing along with her in seconds. He continued to laugh, trying to hold the flashlight steady but found that he couldn’t do it. He hadn’t laughed that hard since the last time Bulk and Skull managed to get cake all over them at a ill-fated martial arts attempt at the Youth Center.

He had fun with his friends, always had fun with them, but completely letting go and not being so shy was…hard. Finally, Avalon popped off all the other bolts and collected them in her hand before shimmying her way out from underneath the zord. Billy followed her then sat up, running a hand through his hair. He got to his feet and walked over to the end of the tail and gave a short tug, eyes widening at the weight of the machinery.

He expected it to be heavy, but the thought came back of how heavy it would’ve been if he didn’t have the added physiology from their ranger power. Billy carefully dropped the tail to the ground then stepped around it to look inside. Just as he thought. Some of the inner machinery wasn’t looking too good and Avalon was right when she said the rotors were an issue.

“Told you, mate,” Avalon said. She reached in and in a matter of seconds managed to remove the rotors from inside the machine piece and hefted them into her arms. “I’ll get started on these and then you can work on the other stuff.”

She walked over to a work bench and set the pieces of machinery down. Then she picked up a pair of glasses that sat on the bench and held them up to her face. Then turned to face him. “These yours, mate?”

Billy looked up at her. “Yes, they’re mine.”

“You’ve got terrible style in frames.” She slid them onto her eyes and scrunched her nose for added effect. “Hate to break it to you, Smurf, but It makes you look like a nerd.”

“They’re prescription.”

“Even worse. You’re fucking blind, too.”

Billy laughed to himself. At least she’s honest.

With a teasing smile, Avalon carefully set his glasses aside and picked up another set of safety glasses, immediately sliding them onto her face. He could practically see the manic glee in her eyes as she picked up the blow torch to use it.

Billy placed his hands on his hips, eyelashes fluttering as he watched. Avalon pulled her flannel shirt up over her arms, slid her hands into a pair of gloves, and arranged her hair behind her shoulders. She adjusted the safety glasses that already rested on her face and picked up the blow torch, holding it against the spinning metal in front of her. Sparks flew but she continued to focus on the part in front of her, turning the blowtorch this way and that every few seconds.

And still Billy watched. Watched as the sparks illuminated her face, making her freckles stand out against her skin, making her dark eyes reflect the bright light. The way the corner of her lips turned up in concentration. Then she lowered the blow torch and lifted the safety goggles up her forehead, making her hair fringe stick straight up so that he could see her entire face.

Could see the smile of pride at her own work.

It was then he knew.

Then he finally, completely understood what was making him act so weird all day.

He was in love with her.