#experiences happening to himself to prepare for the scenes. its easier to put yourself in someone else's shoes when you relate to them more

[purpleshadow-star]

People are saying that Noah went through and felt the same things Will did, and that's why his scenes hit different now. I've seen posts saying that he wasn't acting in some scenes and that he really felt the same emotions as Will, or that he was able to give such a raw performance because he felt the same way as Will. I've seen things about how Noah must have felt awful because his character was the target of homophobes, so he felt like they were attacking him, too.

I think people are taking this too far.

Could Noah have felt Will's emotions on a deeper level than we all knew? Sure. But we don't actually know that. At the end of the day, Noah is an actor. He's an actor, reading from a script, playing a fictional character, and he knows that the story is fiction. He also knows that the homophobes in the show are wrong and end up being punished/ shown in a bad light on purpose. Noah is an actor doing a job, and he knows not to internalize the scripts and the words of homobobic characters. He's played multiple roles. Will wasn't his first role. He knows how this works. He knows the homophobia is wrong and incorrect, especially since they make that clear in the show. I doubt he grew up feeling as awful as Will did just because of the words in the scripts (in scenes he wasn't even there for). Please give him more credit than that.

Noah's scenes hit different because now we 100% know that Noah was really able to put himself into Will's mindset. We now know that Noah was really able to imagine himself going through what Will was going through while filming, and he could relate to being closeted and scared to come out as well.

That's all we know.

We don't know anything else. We don't know his experience. It's entirely possible that Noah went through the same feelings and emotions as Will did, that the words from homophobic characters did affect him personally, but until we get a confirmation that that's true (which might never happen, and that's perfectly fine), I think we need to stop assuming we know his experiences while growing up closeted.

So to say, "Noah wasn't acting here," is just wrong because he was acting in every scene. Just because he is able to relate to Will more than we thought doesn't mean he wasn't acting. Until we get confirmation that he wasn't acting (like how he said he wasn't acting in the shoot-out scene and that he was genuinely terrified), let's not assume anything.

Here's what we know: Noah is gay. He was scared to come out. He came out to his family and friends. They said they knew already. They support him. He can relate to Will as far as being gay and scared and his family already knowing.

Until he shares more or clarifies further, that's all we know so far. Let's not assume things he never confirmed about his private life. We're not owed information about his experiences growing up, and we don't have the right to paint a picture about his experiences when we don't know the truth yet.

[knchins]

Manager’s Special - Seijoh 4

Summary: Being the manager of Seijoh University's boy's volleyball team meant filling their every need. But can you satisfy all four seniors at the same time or will you break trying?

Pairing: Oikawa x Fem!Reader x Iwa x Mattsun x Makki

Rating: E+

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings:  Degradation/Humiliation, Oral sex (giving/receiving), Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Triple? Penetration (I technically don't view this as triple but some might), Squirting, Vaginal/Anal fingering, Unprotected sex, Gangbang (obvs), Blindfold usage, Spit (just a little), A smidgen of dubcon if you squint, Overstimulation, Mindbreak??, Aftercare, and Oikawa being a total Asshole

Notes: This is completely self indulgent and I don’t apologize for it one bit.

 Since earning the head manager position of Seijoh University’s boys volleyball team, you had learned to keep a tight schedule. It could be very hard work at times, but honestly it was very rewarding and the experience was worth the late nights and early mornings. It was an honored title that many girls strived for year after year. You had been merely an assistant your first two years of college and now, finally, your tenacity had paid off. You were number one and with it you held a whole new set of responsibilities.

 Because while you did the duties of a normal manager, at Aoba Johsai, female managers also held a very...important role. They were in charge of making sure all of the senior players kept their head in the game and stayed at the pique of physical fitness. This meant that you were in charge of making sure all of their needs were met.

 Every. Single. One.

 And you had quickly found that the four seniors you were in charge of satiating this year were particularly hungry for one thing and one thing only. You.

 Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa all had their own unique interests and tastes. They fought for your affection, sometimes making you feel pulled into four different directions at once. It got so bad that they had to roll die to see who could have you first. There were prime time slots in your schedule, after all, and everyone wanted to be the one to hold it. Weekends were especially cut throat among them and it was finally decided on an even rotation. Oikawa, since he was the captain, got the first weekend. Mattsun was second. Iwaizumi third, and lastly Hanamaki. You never had a moment to yourself it seemed like. The core four took up the entirety of your free time.

 But you knew what the job demands were before you took it. You agreed to this. If only you had known how draining it would be. You couldn’t have imagined the sexual appetites of athletes being this overwhelming. If only there was time to recuperate. Time and time again they worked you to tears. Multiple times a week you’d be left overstimulated and so incredibly full of cum. But none of that could have prepared you for what they had in mind for this particular Saturday.

 Makki was supposed to come over to your apartment alone that evening. You had the scene set the way you knew he liked it. Lights dim with a plethora of candles scattered across the bedroom. There was chilled sparkling water set on the bedside and a new bottle of lube. You had taken time to shower, scrubbing every inch of you clean for him. After drying yourself off, fixing your hair and putting on light natural looking makeup, you stepped into a nice little sheer white baby-doll nightie with nothing but a sea foam green thong underneath.

 After a look-over in your floor length mirror, you smiled with satisfaction. Makki was the gentlest of the four and usually he pampered a little more afterwards. It was the only time you get any semblance of rest. Maybe you could convince him to go easy on you too. Take things slow. He was the easiest to reason with and you had been looking forward to this all week.

 There was a knock at your front door and immediately you were thrown off. Each player had a unique knock to them, and what you just heard wasn’t Makki’s. It was the captain’s. Holding back a groan you padded to the door and looked through the peephole, seeing all four seniors gathered in the hallway.

 Confusion washed over you as you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. Oikawa looked particularly proud of himself, something that had your thighs clenching out of sheer habit. “Oikawa-san? Did something happen?”

 Iwaizumi forced the door open, making you take a step back as all four men walked in, putting down their things in the entryway before Hanamaki closed the door. They deposited their shoes at the doorway before Oikawa gave you some sort of answer. “I hate to do this to you, Cutie, I really do, but there’s something your Captain wants you to do for him.”

 His eyes scoured every inch of your body, making you suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. His tongue swiped over his lips, his facial expression absolutely predatory. Your cunt was already aching at the thought of him pounding into you. “W-What is it?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

 Oikawa began to circle around you as you noticed the others begin to slip off their shirts. You swallowed thickly, unable to look away from the sheer amount of tone muscle present before you now. You began to chew on your bottom lip, the taste of your lip gloss crawling onto your tongue. “We decided that we all want a turn with you tonight.” He said, stopping behind you and putting his hands on your hips. He pulled you back to him and you could feel his half-hard cock rutting into your ass as he leaned to speak in your ear. “They don’t think you can handle it, but I can.”

 He pressed a kiss just under your ear, teeth grazing the skin there as you felt the flimsy fabric of the thong dampen with your arousal. All four of them? At once? Your head span as you tried to conceive it, but the captain’s cock grinding into your ass was almost too distracting. He knew exactly what he was doing and you hated him for it. “I don’t think I- Ah!” He bit at your pulse point and you felt her knees begin to tremble from the sheer anticipation of him being inside you.

 One of his beautiful hands moved to push up the lightweight fabric of the baby-doll, his index finger finding your clit expertly and pressing into you with just the right amount of force that had you keening back against him. “Don’t you want to prove them right, my little manager? What happened to all of that ambition?”

 Three pairs of eyes were devouring you as Oikawa continued to press kisses into your throat. They all looked so starving. So      needy    . Who were you to deny your team? Your body was for their taking, that was what you had wanted since you were a freshman right? And now, with Oikawa’s fingers working over your swelling clit, mouth taking claim to your neck, you have no drive to tell them no. There was no chance of you resisting them. You sank into Oikawa’s hold and he knew instantly that you were admitting defeat. You’d take on all four of them, even if it broke you.

 Oikawa dragged you into the bedroom, his right hand never leaving its spot between your legs. When he finally released you, he pushed you gently onto the bed so that he could take off his shirt. The other three came into the room, Makki had already stepped out of his pants and as in nothing but his socks and boxer briefs.

 You turned onto your back, looking absolutely doe-eyed at the large men before you. Again you kept your legs pressed together, rubbing slightly to try and create some kind of friction that would lighten the ache in your core. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Iwa pull something out of your top drawer, and again you swallowed as you knew there could only be one thing he’d be looking for in there. The black silk blindfold you kept stashed away.

 “Hajime, please,” You cooed softly, feeling fear bubble in your abdomen at being blinded. He ignored your quiet plea, knowing that there wasn’t nearly enough fight behind it to be an actual revocation of consent. He came closer to you, making it easier for you to see the outline of his erection in his pants as he covered your eyes with the cloth and tied it around the back of your head.

 “Good thinking, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chirped as he took off his pants. “Let’s play a game then, shall we, Manager-san?” He asked, glancing at the other guys. “If you can guess whose dick is in your pretty little mouth then you can get a reward. How does that sound?”

 His irritating voice did nothing but ignite your desires even further. You were pretty certain you knew each of them well enough by now to be able to tell the difference between the four. Besides, Oikawa always held to his word and rewards with him often meant a very intense orgasm.

 You felt a hand grab you by the shoulder and by the softness of it, you assumed it was Oikawa’s. His hands were always the most meticulously kept out of all of them. He forced you to your knees and your mouth opened as you presented your tongue to whoever was first in line.

 Mattsun decided to take initiative, his cock already out as he stroked it. He stepped up to you, guiding the tip into your warm, beckoning mouth. He clenched his teeth together to keep from making any sort of sound that may give him away. Although, he already had a disadvantage. Mattsun was the biggest lengthwise and second only to Iwa when it came to girth.

 He was unable to stop himself from sliding as much in as he possibly could, his tip rubbing the back of your throat as his hand pressed onto the top of your head. His hips rocked slowly, pulling him out a fraction before rutting back in. You swirled your tongue around him, suckling lightly (though it was enough to finally pull a groan from him). You were about to reach up and grab onto his scrotum when Oikawa stopped you. “No touching, Cutie.” He chided and you put your hand back down.

 After a minute of you attempting to work him over without the help of your hands, he pulled from you completely. Oikawa asked you who it was as you were unable to stop yourself from coughing with newfound freedom. After you had collected yourself, you finally answered him with a small smile. “Issei.” You said happily, knowing you were right.

 “Good job.” Mattsun breathed out as he stroked his length to keep it from going soft. “Maybe that was too easy for you, doll.” You shook your head, trying to deny that it wasn’t easy for you to figure it out. None of them believed you.

 The next cock to enter your mouth was slimmer and you quickly narrowed it down to either Makki or Oikawa. They were almost identical, though there was one difference that would give it away. One of them had a small scar at the base of their penis where they had a shaving accident in high school.

 You greedily took him in, drool spilling over your lips and down your chin as your tongue searched every centimeter for the small white line of tissue. You tried to mask what you were doing by sucking and moaning at the small thrusts, the pubic hair at the base ticking your nose as he forced his tip to your throat. He suddenly pulled out, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself any longer if he didn’t. “Takahiro.” You said before Oikawa could ask.

 Makki let out a small laugh. “I guess you know me too well, huh?” He asked, not expecting you to actually answer. You smiled, reaching up to rid your chin of the spit that had made its way down it. Though you were somewhat positive that it would be replaced very quickly.

 “Alright, princess, so no one gets left out you’ll do Iwa-chan and I at the same time.” Oikawa said and a small frown formed on your lips. There was no way      both     of them would fit inside of your mouth. How were you supposed to do this without your hands?

 Iwa huffed, obviously not wanting to share your mouth with his best friend but nevertheless not objecting to it. They both stepped before you. “Can I at least use my hands this time, Captain?” You asked, head tilted upwards as if you were looking up at them.

 “Yes, you can use your hands this time.” Oikawa said back, placing a delicate hand on top of your head to rub it soothingly. You were doing such a good job for him and he was making note to make sure you knew that next time you were alone together.

 Again you opened your mouth wide. Oikawa nodded to Iwa who gave a shallow thrust into your mouth. Your hand searched up the leg of the person to your left, finding the shaft of his penis and stroking it. The telltale ribbing of a small scar at the base of it. The same scar you had been searching for when you were blowing Hanamaki. Not only that but Iwa’s girth gave him away. Oikawa was slender and pretty, Iwa was thick and veiny. Telling the two apart was almost like night and day.

 You bobbed your head, keeping the same pace with your hand giving them both a moment to enjoy the sensation before switching sides. You kept one hand on the base of each cock, making it easier to switch quickly between the two. When you had finally set what you thought was the perfect rhythm, a steady hand stopped you. “Who is who?” Oikawa asked in a chipper voice, never one to be upset when his dick was getting serviced.

 “Tooru-kun, you’re on the left.” You said, “Hajime is on the right.”

 Oikawa chuckled, “Wow, what a good little manager you are. You know us all so well. Are you ready for your reward?” You nodded your head enthusiastically. “Alright, get up and lay back on the bed we’re going to take good care of you.

 He grabbed your hand, helping you to your feet and guiding you to the bed where you laid down. He wasted no time in reaching up and grabbing the thin elastic of your thing and sliding it down your legs, enjoying the sight of the middle sticking to your slick folds for a moment before pulling free.

 Mattsun took position to your right, Makki your left, and Iwa was hovering over you, grabbing either of your thighs and spreading them. His calloused hands felt like a stark contrast from Oikawa’s, a feeling that made you shiver and clench around nothing. The blindfold was taken from your eyes at once by Makki.

 Tooru lowered his face to your core, giving you a nice slow cat lick up your slit that had you quaking in Iwa’s grasp. Mattsun forced the top of your babydoll down, freeing your breasts from the see-through material. He ran a thumb over your right nipple while Makki began to kiss along the swell of your left breast.

 Your brain was in overdrive at all the different sensations going on. Oikawa’s tongue pressing into your folds, Iwa’s mouth peppering kisses along your thighs as he held them apart. Matsukawa’s fingers massaging your breast firmly while Hanamaki is sucking hickies into your other one. There was just too much going on, you felt like you were going to short circuit already. Every inch of you was quivering with delight.

 Oikawa latched onto your clit like a leech, sucking so roughly that he pulled a loud moan straight from your throat. Your hips bucked, kegels flexing as you nearly creamed then and there. Iwa bit into your thigh, the pain ripping through your leg. You cried out, trying to squirm out of his grasp but it was of no use. He was stronger than you by a long shot and there was no way you could possibly overpower all four of them at once.

 “T-Toru p-p-p-please!” You cried, tears filling your eyes as Mattsun’s mouth replaced his hand. You just needed something, anything, inside you. You didn’t really care what at this point.

 He removed his mouth from you, a lewd popping sound came as a result. He knew exactly what you wanted, a lecherous smile on his wet lips. “You gonna beg me princess?”

 Your reply came in a whimper, Mattsun’s teeth grazed one nipple as Makki was sucking on your other one, tongue swirling as if he were attacking your clit instead. “I-I need yo-you inside.” You pleaded with him, the desperate need to have your pussy filled growing even more. “Your fin-fingers. Ah!” You tossed your head back as Iwa licked at your clit now. It was hard to concentrate on anything, especially getting the words you wanted out.

 Oikawa was extremely proud of the sight before him. Iwa’s sideways position gave him enough room to slip in two fingers into your throbbing cunt, The long, slender digits going in gently and deeply. “My, my, Manager-san. My fingers are waterlogged in this cute pussy of yours. Are you that desperate to get off?”

 You were unable to respond, too busy concentrating on grinding your hips against Hajime’s mouth and his fingers at the same time. Oikawa pulled his fingers out before inserting them back in, they slid with ease due to the amount of slick that had accumulated between your legs. Your eyes were rolling back, body jerking beneath the three boys that were hovering over you. All coherent thoughts were gone as the team captain because to thoroughly fuck you with his fingers, his vice captain’s tongue tracing fast shapes around your sensitive clit. That along with the two mouths on your chest had you crying and cumming in no time at all.

 Oikawa pulled his soaked fingers from you, inserting them into his mouth to clean them off with his tongue. He savored the taste of your cum, giving a small hum of appreciation at both the taste and the sight of you panting and teary-eyed. “Is our little cum dumpster okay? We haven’t even filled you up yet.”

 The sarcasm of his voice and sudden removal of Iwaizumi’s grip had your legs slamming shut, not wanting anyone to see how turned on you still were. How much you still needed them to satisfy you. The slutty desperation making your heart pound even harder within your chest. How much more of this relentless teasing could you take before breaking completely? You had no idea. “Fill...Fill me up, Captain.” You said between heavy breaths, eyes glossy with saline and want.

 He laughed, “Makki, tonight is supposed to be your night. You can choose what order we go in.” At least Oikawa could be fair when it came to his teammates. Too bad he wasn’t when it came to you.

 Hanamaki thought about it for a moment. “We should switch halves. Mattsun and I will fuck her while you two can have her hands and mouth.” He brushed your hair back, a small smile on his face. “I know she can take it.”

 He maneuvered himself so he was laying next to you so you could climb on top of him. Your teeth sank into your lip again as you positioned his tip at your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. You couldn’t stop the moan from seeping out between your lips in the process of finally feeling completed. Makki pulled you down by your arm so your chest was against his.

 You hadn’t noticed Mattsun get up and grab the bottle of lube. He generously coated two fingers as he got behind you. He watched as Makki’s dick spread your lips apart, his dick disappearing inside of you in slow shallow thrusts. His own cock was throbbing painfully at this point, begging for release.

 Instead of touching himself, he inserted his two fingers into your ass. You let out a hiss of pain, the muscles burning at the sudden stretch. Hanamaki was whispering sweet things into your ear to help distract you, telling you how good you were doing for him. How amazing your soft pussy felt wrapped around him so tightly while Iwa was positioning himself at your head, stroking his cock is a slow languid motion.

 Oikawa had grabbed his phone and was now recording. He enjoyed nothing better than humiliating you by filming you in compromising positions. Most of the nights alone with him involved some sort of video equipment. Despite being hard and dripping precum onto your carpet, he seemed to totally ignore his erection and focus only on getting the perfect shot of you pleasuring his team.

 Mattsun continued to prep your ass, feeling your muscles beginning to relax around him. Makki kept his rhythm light, not wanting to jostle you around too much while his friend was getting you ready. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as you whimpered. He was being so gentle, too gentle. That wasn’t what you wanted. You were craving Mattsun’s brute force, the little whimpers coming from you only proving how ready you were.

 “Don’t leave her waiting, Mattsun.” Oikawa said. “She wants you to fuck her ass, can’t you see how much she needs it? Little cumslut can’t get off to just Makki treating her like a princess”

 Mattsun tutted, removing his fingers so that he could lube up his cock. Again he watched you take in every inch of Hanamaki like such a good little girl. He spit on your ass, letting it slide down your crack as he pressed his tip into your anus. Hanamaki was still as his friend pushed into you, leaving delicate kisses along your jawline.

 He let out a loud groan as his balls came into contact with your perineum. You fluttered around both of them, taking the moment to adjust to having two dicks inside of you instead of just one. And Mattsun was so big you thought he might rip you apart.

 Iwa was growing impatient, he pressed his tip against your lips and your tongue darted out to taste his precum. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as you opened her mouth fully for him. Makki and Mattsun still weren’t moving yet, simply enjoying the feeling of your body heat warming up their cocks.

 You tried to move your hips to feel something, anything. The neediness growing ever wilder within you. Oikawa watched with great delight, enjoying the muffled torture sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked on Iwa’s dick. “You want them to move, sweetheart?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice that was definitely anything but sincere.

 You whined loudly, despite your mouth being full. You attempted to nod your head but it was slight due to not wanting to hurt Iwa by accident though your teeth did graze him and he gave a warning tug on your locks. You looked up at him with an apologetic expression, gargling out a sorry that wasn’t really comprehensible.

 “You heard her, Matsukawa.” Makki said, his once sweet voice going sly. “She wants us to move.”

 Mattsun laughed darkly as he pulled back slowly before jerking his hips forward, roughly slapping into you. Searing heat and pain caused tears to once again spring to your eyes as Hanamaki began to move in sync with him with an almost equal amount of force. It took a moment for them to stop fumbling awkwardly with one another, trying to find a going pace that worked to both of their advantages. Once they found it though, it was nothing but bliss. Both your pussy and ass being fucked simultaneously while your mouth was stuff full had your eyes rolling back and drool slipping down your chin again.

 “Fuck it’s so tight.” Mattsun moaned, smacking your ass with a harsh slap before rubbing the area. “Why have you never let me fuck your ass before? You’ll be lucky if I ever use that used up pussy again.” He growled at you, making the welling tears finally fall down your face. They dripped down onto Makki, though he didn’t mind much at all.

 Iwa was forcing more and more of himself down your throat, gagging and choking you in the process until you could barely breathe. He was taking the liberty to fuck your mouth, allowing you to simply be another hole for his pleasure instead of an active participate in getting him off.

 Oikawa grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his dick. He knew you wouldn’t be able to stroke him due to your fucked out state of stupidity. He moved your hand for you, keeping it steady as he bounced his hips against your grip. “I get that ass next.” He said, “Iwa-chan, you can have Makki’s hole. I want her so full of cum that she won’t stop leaking for a week.”

 Makki increased his pace, forcing Mattsun to do so as well. The two dicks rubbing inside of you have a fast knot tightening in your lower abdomen. The thing that finally did you over was Makki reaching between the two of you and teasing your clit with the pads of his fingers. You were screaming around Iwa, eyes shut tight as you came for a second time, both holes spasming around your partners, pulling moans from them as you sucked them in more. It was enough to drive Makki to his peak as well, releasing inside of your cunt while Mattsun thrusted wildly, the sounds of his balls slapping against you was the loudest thing in the room at the moment. It only ceased when he finally came, pumping your ass so full of semen that it seeped out around his base.

 Iwa pulled his dick from your mouth and throat, allowing you to gasp and sob. You were already so incredibly overstimulated, you couldn’t imagine having to go yet another round. But you knew your captain and vice captain wanted to get off too. Oikawa’s dream of making you the sluttiest little cum dumpster in all of Japan was quickly coming true.

 Mattsun pulled out of you, enjoying the view one last time before stepping back and disappearing into the bathroom to clean up. Iwa moved to the side, ready to fuck you senseless again with growing impatience. Makki took one last breath, gave you one last sweet kiss, before slipping out from under you.

 Oikawa handed his phone to Makki so he could continue to film while he positioned himself under you. With Iwa’s help he had you sitting up and turned around so that your back was to him. “I think Mattsun lubed you up enough, Manager-san, don’t you think?” He asked, tip probing your dripping ass before suddenly dipping into you without warning. You cried out, almost not believing just how easily he slid right in. Since he was a bit smaller than Mattsun, it didn’t hurt at all for him to be inside all at once. The former had stretched you out too thoroughly.

 Iwa also wasted zero time in plugging you up, stopping anymore of Makki’s cum from escaping you. You were still crying and shaking, too overstimulated to say anything that made sense. Unlike Mattsun and Makki, they didn’t need time to sync up into a nice rhythm. They both went in hard and fast, almost competing with one another on who could be the most brutal.

 Oikawa’s hands were on your breasts, pulling at your nipples, “What a good girl, taking your captain and vice captain like this.” He said, holding back his own moans as he whispered into your ear. “Our little good luck charm. My cute little slut, you’ll do anything I ask of you won’t you?”

 Your answer was a strangled moan, throat still sore from Iwa’s previous abuse. You could tell Oikawa was struggling not to cum. Whenever he got too excited he had the tendency to lose control.

 Once again Iwa had a bruising grip on your thighs, keeping them nice and spread so he could easily see his handiwork, watching you take his thick cock as if it were nothing. The squelching sounds you were making had you feeling incredibly embarrassed, the way the previous boys’ cum had acted as lubricant for the two new ones. Oikawa and Iwa were pumping in and out effortlessly, working you over once again.

 “Iwa-chan, but your thumb on her clit, I bet she’ll squirt all over us if you do that.” Oikawa said, nipping at your ear as he tugged on your nipples again. Iwa reached down, pressing his thumb against the engorged bud and rubbing in fast tight circles. Your back arched, more sobs erupting as you felt another overwhelmingly powerful orgasm rip through you. You couldn’t stop the release of ejaculate as it squirted out of you, showering all three of you in the process, though Iwa got the brunt of it.

 Oikawa was laughing harshly, “Fuck princess, you’re just so goddamn dirty aren’t you? You like being stuffed like this? Will you ever be satisfied with just one again?” You shook, collapsed on top of him, unable to make any sound or even think straight. Your walls were still fluttering around him, hips jerking in tune with their thrusts. Iwa’s nails dragged across your skin, the pain not even enough to cause you to yelp like you normally would. A few pumps later and he was adding to the mess with his own cum, the warm liquid filling your pussy so beautifully for him as he pulled out.

 “Best for last.” Oikawa hissed, Flipping over so he could ravage you at a whole new angle. You couldn’t even hold yourself up, he had to do it for you as he rammed into you over and over. He wasn’t holding back anymore, hell you didn’t even know he      was     holding back before. He chased his own high, hitting his peak and pumping you full of even more white creamy liquid.

 He pulled out and gently laid your hips down onto the bed. You cried into the sheets, still feeling jerky from your own string of orgasms. It was over? Finally? You couldn’t believe that you had actually survived all four of them at once.

 Oikawa and Iwa began to clean themselves up as Makki put his captain’s phone away and went to pamper you with kisses. He turned you on to your back and spread your legs just enough so he could clean you up the best he could. Parts of the bed were soaked unfortunately, but Mattsun brought a clean towel to lay down over the puddles, moving you so that you were on top of the towel instead of the wetness.

 “Don’t forget, Makki, make sure she’s up tomorrow for practice.” Oikawa said in that sing-song voice of him. “Maybe we can have a round two in the equipment room.”

 You whimpered in protest as Hanamaki held you close to him. “He’s joking, love, don’t worry.” He whispered to you softly, knowing you were too outdone to do it again so soon.

 Iwa punched his shoulder roughly, “leave her alone, asshole.” He said threateningly, coming over to plant a light kiss on your forehead. “If you can’t come tomorrow, don’t stress it.” He said quietly enough that the only other person to hear him was Makki. He straightened up before shooting a glare at Oikawa.

 Oikawa frowned a bit at him before walking over to you. “Good job, princess. I knew you could do it. You made your captain so proud tonight.” He cooed softly, petting your head. “I’ll call you in the morning to check on you.” He placed a kiss identical to Iwa’s onto your forehead. “Makki is going to take good care of you tonight.” He assured before standing up once more. “Let’s go, Iwa-chan. I’m hungry.”

 The two started bickering as they left. Mattsun cleaned up around the room a little more before, wishing you a farewell before leaving. Hanamaki continued to whisper to you about how amazing you were and how thankful he was for letting them do this. He didn’t stop until you finally lost your battle with sleep, cuddled up next to him and clinging to him for safety.

 And the next day you definitely didn’t show up to practice.

Mobile Masterlist || Request Rules

Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawksward​, @drxwsyni​

[dewykth]

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle​​​ and @dewykth​​​ collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj  word count. 7.5k+  warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr​​​​ !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳  i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter. 

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head. 

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry. 

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel. 

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation. 

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go?  Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

[blancheludis]

Characters: Tony Stark & James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Howard Stark Tags: Hurt Tony Stark, Child Abuse, Protective Rhodey, Found Family Words: 4.628

Summary: Rhodey has come home to a lot of strange sights since moving in with Tony, but the smeared, red handprint just inside their entrance door makes his heart stop. He stares at it for a long second before his mind suggests helpfully that this looks an awful lot like blood.

A few panicked moments later, finds Tony in the bathtub, naked from the waist up, a bottle of cheap whiskey in his hand, and with blood on his face and chest.

“Rhodey,” Tony coos and smiles, wincing when that tugs at a cut in his lip. “You’re home.”

---

Rhodey has come home to a lot of strange sights since moving in with Tony – the most memorable one being an all-out Roomba war who seemed to play Capture the Flag with a pair of Captain America briefs – but the smeared, red handprint just inside their entrance door makes his heart stop. He stares at it for a long second before his mind suggests helpfully that this looks an awful lot like blood.

“Tony?” Rhodey calls out without an ounce of self-preservation and moves into their flat, his hand hovering over his hip although they are not allowed to take their guns off the range.

During some dark, drunken night, Tony has told him about some of the kidnappings, about the desperate and the dangerous hoping for a handsome reward or some revenge by picking Howard Stark’s son off the street. Tony also told him about Howard’s constant refusal to pay, as if his own child’s life is worth nothing.

They have been friends for just over a year, but Rhodey is already certain that he would not leave a single stone unturned to find Tony. He would pay any ransom to get his best friend back.

Tony is not supposed to be here, though. This morning, he left to meet his parents who are in town for a few days. That is never a good thing in its own right, but it should not end with blood on their wall.

Still without a thought for his own safety, Rhodey storms in, his heart stopping a beat when the flat is empty at first glance.

“Tony,” he calls again and thinks he hears a sound in response from the bathroom.

He finds Tony in the bathtub, naked from the waist up. Stripes of half-dried blood add obscene details to the scene. Rhodey’s heart stutters to a halt when he sees where it is coming from.

Tony has a cut through his eyebrow and a split lip. Worse, however, is the wound running down his forearm. Countless of self-defence lessons have taught him that wounds in that place often happen when people try to fend off attacks while guarding their head or heart.

“What did the bastard do to you?” Rhodey asks once he shakes off the shock. Two long strides take him closer to Tony, closer to the mess that is dark blood on white skin.

“Rhodey,” Tony coos and smiles, wincing when the movement tugs at the cut. “You’re home.”

Tony is drunk. He waves a bottle with his unharmed arm. It is very cheap whiskey – which is just more evidence that this has something to do with Howard. If left to his own devices, Tony is a drink snob. He only drinks cheap alcohol in rebellion against his parents. Rhodey always put that down as some weird rich kid nonsense, but it does make it easier to narrow down the root of Tony’s problems at times.

“I swear I’ll kill him,” Rhodey mutters as he crouches down, noticing how Tony stiffens, either at his words or his sudden proximity. That only stokes his anger. Why is it that Howard Stark always leaves his son a little more broken when they meet? How does he not see what a good person Tony is?

Tony raises the bottle between them, almost like a shield. “We don’t have time for homicide. We still need to finish our robotics assignment.”

This is Tony’s favoured tactic, trying to distract from the problem at hand. It does not matter that there is no ignoring his state or the blood or the hollowness of his eyes. In this, Tony is a Stark through and through, clinging to his pretences as if they are the only thing that keep him breathing.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” Rhodey snaps and turns around to search for their first-ais kit under the sink. “What happened?”

He does not need to look at Tony to know that his features will slacken into something bored and impersonal, that his hand will automatically bring the bottle to his lips.

“Nothing.”

Rhodey has heard that lie a thousand times but it never gets easier. One day, Tony might trust him enough to just talk to him without all the needling. Although he is not sure whether he should really look forward to that. It would make things easier, but it is also a little like leaving the closet door wide open at night in an invitation for all monsters passing by to come in and devour him.

“You’re bleeding,” Rhodey snaps and gives up his search for the kit in favour of taking a closer look at Tony.

The cuts on his forehead have already closed, although the one marring Tony’s lip will reopen at some point, judged on previous experiences. Tony has never been good at allowing himself time to heal.

The arm is a mess, but from up close Rhodey sees that it is not as bad as he feared. It is not even deep enough to show the muscles. The blood smeared all around it makes it look far more dangerous. That still does not soothe the simmering rage inside him. Tony left bloody handprints on his way here, which means he fled his parents’ hotel mindlessly, making it a miracle he even got here.

“Just a friendly argument that got a little heated,” Tony dismisses easily and pulls his arm closer to his body as if he can erase the wound just like that. “You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t know,” Rhodey replies sharply, although he does by now. “I never went home and came back seriously injured.”

The first time this happened, they had barely known each other for a month and yet Rhodey had already been prepared to go to war for Tony. It is still utterly incomprehensible to him how a parent could repeatedly hurt their own child. Unfortunately, he has sworn to never talk to anyone about it besides Tony and, well, there is no bringing Tony to his senses. If he ever had any.

“This is not serious, honey bear,” Tony says easily and smiles. There it is, the first new drop of blood out of the split lip. “You should’ve seen me when –”

Closing his eyes, Rhodey leans away from Tony. “You should not finish this sentence if you don’t want me to go pay a visit to your father right now.”

If he were lucky, he would get in a swing or two before he would be taken down and thrown in some hellhole. In moments like this, when Tony’s pain is so clearly within view, Rhodey wonders whether it would not be worth it, just to remind Howard that he can be hurt too.

“That would hardly end well,” Tony points out but sounds a little more present, a little more aware that Rhodey is only one wrong word away from doing something stupid.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Rhodey says, “Exactly.”

He hears rustling and then a hand is on his arm, holding tight as if to hold him back from running out that door. When Rhodey looks up, Tony at least did not take his injured arm but placed the whiskey bottle between his legs to free his hand.

“No, he would ruin your life, Rhodey,” Tony says, completely serious now, for once not pretending that Howard is a normal father. But then, things are always different when they are talking about Rhodey’s pain instead of his own. “Promise me you’ll never say anything to him.”

Rhodey tries to avoid making promises he will not be able to keep. “And what? You want me to just watch him hurt you?” Like he has done the entire time they have known each other, backing down like a coward because Tony keeps asking him too.

“He didn’t mean to,” Tony says as if that makes anything better. “He was wearing that ring and –” he breaks off awkwardly and points at his split lip.

Rhodey blinks, wondering whether Tony really thinks that the blood is the problem, not that Howard dared to hit him at all. Bruises are just as bad. Hell, the mere threat of a swing is. Children are supposed to feel safe with their parents. They should not be forced to find excuses for their parents’ regular fits of rage.

With a deep breath, Rhodey calms himself enough to ask, “That ring cut up your arm too?” He does not want to look at it again but does it anyway. The blood makes Tony appear so much smaller.

“No, that was a bottle,” Tony admits sheepishly then snaps up his eyes in a panic that he has said too much. He hurriedly adds, “He didn’t mean to aim for me and it wasn’t his fault I fell.”

“Tony,” Rhodey says and trails off. The churning anger inside his chest turns into sorrow. He is out of his depth here. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

The picture Rhodey has of Howard in his head is that of a real monster. Bloodshot eyes, a terribly disfigured face, spit flying from his mouth due to his constant shouting. That picture has nothing and everything to do with the immaculate business man depicted in news articles and TV interviews. An honest, brilliant man, who just turns into a beast once he steps into his own home. And Tony is caught in his thrall, unable and, most of the time, unwilling to get out.

As if Tony read his thoughts, he says, “It’s not your business, is it?” The bitterness in his voice is tangible, underlined by the smell of alcohol and blood in the air.

Just like that, Rhodey’s anger is back, crowding beneath his sternum like a living thing. “You’re my best friend and this is not the first time he’s beaten you bloody. I damn well think this is my business,” Rhodey snaps, wondering why Tony has to always make things harder for himself.

In too calm a voice, Tony says, “But you’re not family.”

The words feel like a punch to the gut and Rhodey leans away from Tony as if that could soothe the sudden pain. Silence falls between them, almost deafening in its intensity, as Tony stares at his bottle and Rhodey wonders, just for a moment, if this is worth it. If the friendship and all the brilliant hours together are worth the heartbreak.

When Rhodey started college, he was determined to live the best years of his life. To learn everything he can and find some forever friends. Rumours about the rich kid genius starting with them were already rampant when he arrived on campus and he had planned to stay out of that mess.

Fast-forward a year and here they are. For all that Tony is mostly sweet and lost, he knows how to make his words hurt, how to hit people where they are already wounded. Rhodey is not often on the receiving end of that anymore. Only, really, when Tony has been home and cannot help but lash out because he does not know what else to do with his own pain.

That is no excuse. And Rhodey is not in a forgiving mood tonight, seeing that he very much considers Tony family.

“All right,” Rhodey says in as clear a tone as he can manage. With an abrupt movement, he turns to the cabinet under the sink to search for the first-aid kit in earnest. He also does not want to look at Tony. “We still need to clean that cut. Drinking alcohol won’t help.”

In his back, he hears rustling, and then a hand lands on his shoulder. “Rhodey, I didn’t mean –”

Shrugging off the hand, Rhodey leans forward, out of Tony’s reach. “I hope you restocked the first-aid kit.”

He finds it right at the bottom, almost as if they do not regularly need it. They have another one in the lab, which is a lot fancier than this. Then again, lab accidents are normal and accepted, whereas this is not.

Rhodey still keeps his head down when he turns back around. He does not want to see Tony’s wide eyes, full of apologies he never quite knows how to put into words. He will forgive Tony, he always does. Just not right away.

“Rhodey –” Tony tries, but Rhodey cuts him off.

“Give me that bottle and rinse out that cut,” he orders while he gets out the Neosporin and rummages for band-aids.

“I’m sorry.”

In a way, Rhodey should feel flattered. Tony does not usually insist on apologizing right away, preferring to hide away first and wallow a bit. By now Rhodey knows that Tony does not mean everything he says when hurt or angry, but it is nice to see that Tony does not want to leave it hanging in the air between them. Which still does not put Rhodey into a more forgiving mood.

“What were you arguing about then?” he asks, ready to immediately draw Tony’s ire again or to wade through dismissive lies. He finds the Neosporin but waits to take Tony’s arm because he might yet get some information.

Tony takes his time to answer, and when he does, it is barely audible. “You.”

“What?” Rhodey is surprised enough that he looks up. Him? Why would he even be on Howard Stark’s radar. Despite his burning wish to take Tony away and keep him safe he has never made a spectacle of himself.

Tony looks right back at him, worrying his already split lip. In a flat tone, he says, “Howard said I should work on befriending some real people instead of someone who’s barely good enough to be the help.”

“I –” Rhodey swallows, unsure what to say. Instead, he reaches for Tony’s arm and begins to rinse the cut with water. His movements are methodical, just something to keep him from freezing up.

It should not come as a surprise. Rhodey’s family is black and comparatively poor. He is here on a scholarship and already has his life planned out. Joining the military might not be a dishonourable career choice but it is not prestigious either.

Perhaps it is true that Tony should associate more with people of his own world, business men and rich heirs or even other geniuses, but Tony is lost among them. It would make him sick in the long run, lonely and wounded in a world he has learned to navigate by necessity only, not because he wants to be there.

So, yes, Rhodey’s presence gives Tony options he did not have before. To be himself, to safely explore other parts of life.

“See, you’re feeling worse now,” Tony exclaims and tries to tug his arm out of Rhodey’s grasp but fails. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. He likes to say he’s not racist, and he might not have a problem with you if your family was rich, but I couldn’t let him talk shit about you like that. You’re worth at least a thousand of his sort.”

If Rhodey were petty, he would say that Tony’s own words hurt much more than anything Howard could ever spew at him. But he does not because he values Tony’s friendship and well-being more than a won argument.

“Tony,” he says and looks up long enough from his work to make Tony understand that he is completely serious. “I don’t care what your father says about me. I care about you. And if he calls me every bad name in existence, I want you to not argue but get out of there in one piece.”

Tony does not know which battles to pick. Perhaps that comes from having been ignored and trampled over most of his life, perhaps it is his missing sense of self-worth. Somehow, he has decided that Rhodey is worth fighting for, so instead of fighting just to be contrary he has made himself Rhodey’s champion almost like Rhodey has done for him.

“You always stand up for me,” Tony argues sullenly as if he has read Rhodey’s mind.

“Because,” Rhodey intones and finally lets go of Tony’s arm to look at him, “you tend to not do that for yourself.”

And why would he, having never been taught how to. For someone who expects the world to always jump at his bidding, just because of his name and money, Howard Stark has been amiss to instil that sense of worth in his own son.

Tony shrugs and winces slightly, which only worsens Rhodey’s anger because that means he likely has more bruises. “He’d ruin your life,” he says quietly, urgently in a way that shows he really is afraid of that.

Ignoring the fact that this is not something they should have to worry about – his best friend’s father being able to destroy his life on a whim – it is nice to hear that Tony really cares. Rhodey knows he does, but there are no masks here now, no pretensions of uncaring cheer. Tony is good at being what the world wants him to be, but underneath the surface he is brittle enough that Rhodey just wants to hide him away where no one can get to him.

“I’d rather he didn’t try,” Rhodey argues, forcing his tone to be lighter than he feels. “But as of yet he’s only ever hurt you. And that’s not acceptable.”

He does not expect an answer. Tony is practiced at skirting this topic, refusing to actually say that what his father is doing to him is wrong. It is just like him to be vocal about everybody else’s pains and worries but never his own.

“Give me that bottle back, would you?” Tony asks and leans back in the bathtub, avoiding Rhodey’s eyes again. It is subtle, as he pretends to inspect the cut on his arm, but Rhodey knows his mannerisms by now.

“You’ve had enough,” Rhodey says and suppresses the urge to take a sip himself. Getting drunk will not actually help.

Tony rolls his eyes, but still does not look up. “There’s never enough after dealing with dear old dad.”

One day, Rhodey will ask why Tony decided to indulge in Howard’s favourite vice when he intimately knows what alcohol turns Howard into. He just has not found the courage yet.

“You’re bleeding,” he reminds Tony as if that will be taken as an acceptable reason. “I won’t let you add alcohol into the mix.” More alcohol as it is.

“But it helps with the pain,” Tony argues but does not make a move to get the bottle. Rhodey counts that as a victory.

“No. End of discussion,” he says for good measure. Then he reaches for the Neosporin and takes Tony’s arms again. The wound has stopped bleeding but looks like one wrong move will cause it to reopen. “Now, hold still. This could sting.”

He is as gentle as he can be and squeezes Tony’s hand when he does not flinch away. It is not the worst thing in the world to get alcohol rubbed in wounds and Tony has certainly had worse, but he is often sensitive about appearing weak.

“You know, you’re the only person besides Jarvis who does that,” Tony says in a conversational tone, almost detached from the matter at hand. “Warn me before, I mean.”

Rhodey does not like Jarvis. The old butler is a kind man and Tony loves him, yes, but he did not get Tony out of his abusive home life. For years he stood by and watched Tony get hurt. In Rhodey’s opinion it is not enough to soothe the bruises after the fact. He is, of course, not doing anything else, so he should probably not blame a man he has never met. But every beautiful story Tony tells about Jarvis always comes with a bitter taste for Rhodey, because it leaves him thinking that no one has ever done enough for Tony.

“I hate that enough people have done this that you have some kind of ranking for them,” Rhodey says instead of voicing these thoughts, although he cannot quite keep the sharpness out of his tone.

He picks up the band-aids and arranges them unceremoniously to cover the cut. Tiredness seeps into his bones but he does not let that show.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Tony says, sounding sheepish.

“Then perhaps use those words next time,” Rhodey points out as he turns to the smaller cut through Tony’s eyebrow.

He knows that Tony is not ungrateful. They have never spoken about this, but he thinks that thanking people, to Tony, is akin to reminding them of his weakness, his defects. And if he does that too often, people will leave. That is utter nonsense, of course, but Rhodey has not yet found an effective method to tell Tony so.

They finish up in silence, and just when Rhodey turns to tidy up the first-aid kit, Tony reaches out and touches his shoulder.

“Thank you, Rhodey,” he says with a small smile and earnest eyes.

Just as solemnly, Rhodey responds, “You’re welcome.” And he is. No matter the occasionally sharp words and heartbreak, Tony is family. “Now, do you have any other wounds? Did you hit your head?”

Just like that, the magic of their serious moment dissipates and Tony is back to rolling his eyes and belying his state.  

“No.”

“Ribs okay?” Rhodey asks, going through his mental list even while he eyes Tony’s skin critically for blooming bruises.

“I think so,” Tony says and breathes in deeply as if to demonstrate his ability to do so without sudden pain.

Satisfied with that, Rhodey moves on. “Do you have a headache? Does your vision swim?” That is a tricky question, because he is often not able to verify until Tony keels over after pushing himself too hard. And he did say something about falling down earlier.

“I don’t have a concussion,” Tony dismisses easily, and Rhodey cannot glean anything from his tone.

“You said that last time,” he points out, feeling a bit helpless. With opens wounds, he can help, but everything else is a bit too much. Although he is sure that will change the longer he stays friends with Tony.

“We blew up a lab,” Tony replies with more fondness than such a memory should warrant. Then he leans forward and pokes Rhodey’s chest. “You had a concussion too.”

“And I admitted it right away, while you were lying through your teeth,” Rhodey shoots back immediately. They had been stupid and a concussion is just not something nice to deal with. Of course, he said something. To this day, he cannot understand how Tony can insist on going through all these things alone.

“I don’t like hospitals and I really didn’t have to go there just because I hit my head a little too hard.” They have had this argument a thousand times, but it is easier to fall back into it than to press Tony for how he is feeling right now. He looks better and has not tried to get the whiskey back. In Rhodey’s book, that is a victory.

“But you insisted I stay in there for a whole week,” Rhodey says as he packs up the first-aid kit and stores it back under the sink.

“That’s –” Tony begins to argue, but Rhodey cuts him off, knowing what is coming.

“If you’re going to say that’s different, don’t.” That has been a point of much frustration for Rhodey. How easily Tony deals in double standards, always hiding his own needs while basically putting Rhodey on a pedestal. “One day, I’ll get you to see that you’re allowed to treat yourself with the same care and consideration you do for your friends.”

“Well, you were always one for doomed cases,” Tony shrugs but at least does not pretend that Rhodey does not have a point. “Now, help me up, please. I want to go to bed.”

Tony does not need much help, which is an immense relief. They have come far enough in their friendship that Tony does not pretend when it is only them. If he cannot stay up on his own legs, he leans on Rhodey. If they continue that way, they will turn Tony into a fully functioning adult yet.

Still, Rhodey stays at Tony’s side and steers him, just to make sure. It is only when they are moving to Rhodey’s half of the room that Tony speaks up.

“That’s not my bed.”

“Nope,” Rhodey agrees cheerfully. “You’re sleeping here so you won’t be able to sneak out if you feel worse. Or if you decide you want to keep drinking.”

That was a hard-learned lesson, the way Tony likes to disappear instead of just asking for help. Now he knows he needs to hold on to Tony to keep him where he is supposed to be.

Tony glances up at him, thankfully not irritated. “You don’t –”

“I do,” Rhodey cuts him off, his tone still pointedly light. He will not argue about this. Or, at least, he will not lose this argument.

With a huff, Tony sinks down on Rhodey’s bed. “You can’t possibly know what I was going to say.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rhodey says in all seriousness. No matter what Tony was going to say, what clever argument his head has cooked up, Rhodey promised to take care of him and he will.

As if to show he learned his earlier lesson, Tony looks up and says, “Thank you, Rhodey.”

It is a stupid thing to feel happy about, because Rhodey knows Tony is grateful even when he does not say it, but the words cause warmth to gather behind his sternum.

He nods his acceptance with a smile, but then says, “Well, you’re paying to get that bloody handprint off our wall, so we’re even.”

A year ago, he could not have said that. Even the slightest mention of him expecting Tony to pay for anything would have just caused Tony to think his fears of Rhodey being just another gold digger were true, even if Rhodey has never once asked for anything. It is good to see that Tony does not even bat an eye at his comment now.

“I will, geez.” He flops back dramatically on the bed. “You should go out more, white walls are so out.”

Rhodey laughs as he pulls the blanket over Tony, almost tucking him in. “Close your eyes, Tony. We both need to sleep.”

Well, Rhodey needs to wash up first. While his hands are clean, it does feel like Tony’s blood is sticking to them. He just needs to make sure that Tony is in bed and stays there before he dares to turn his back on him.

“All right, mama bear,” Tony says but already sounds sleepy. “I’ll happily be your little spoon.”

They have done this a hundred times before, once Rhodey made it clear that Tony does not need to pay him in physical affection either. Theirs has been a long road already. Rhodey has no illusions that it will be smooth sailing from here on, but he is proud of how far they already made it.

“Shut up,” he says fondly. “Sleep well. And wake me if you feel worse. I mean it.”

“I promise.”

Rhodey does not believe him one bit, but that hardly matters. They have a working system going on here. Tony might fight his mothering at times but they do rely on each other. Any while Rhodey could do without the excitement sometimes, he would not have it any other way. That is what family does for each other, after all.

[arthurjdrake]

Timing: Before the full moon. Parties: Arthur & @chasseurdeloup​ Summary: A missing child with a surprising connection and a creature in search of retribution makes for uneasy allies.  Warnings: Injury Detail, Blood, Kidnapping

For the most part, Arthur let his descendents live their lives in uninterrupted peace. He didn’t like to step in and potentially complicate things, but sometimes distancing yourself from things was easier said than done. So, on occasion, he would become a family friend - or some other connection distant enough to maintain contact whilst also keeping an eye on how they fared through the years. A safeguard of sorts. The Cranes had lived in and around Maine from the time he and Louise had settled there and started their family together in the 1700s. It had been a peaceful life, that is until tragedy struck swift and sudden - tearing a family asunder in the grief that followed. They had lost Abby, and in the obsession that followed, Arthur had lost his remaining family to his own blindsightedness.

To say that he was shocked to see the spitting image of his own little girl skipping rope with friends at break would be… An understatement. It had taken several moments for him to regather his wits, that and hearing the teacher calling Katherine Crane to come inside. Katherine. Not Abigail. Not his darling Abby. But a Crane nonetheless… So there was a connection. A little affiliate research on the sides of the main case confirmed this. All the while the mysterious case continued to lead to nothing but twist after twist. Their quarry somehow evading them at every turn.

It was early evening, his usual walk home from the campus a few weeks after that particular discovery when it happened, a voice crying out into the chill evening air.

“Kat?! Kat!!” The tone was panicked, fearful - cutting through the quiet evening air and making his blood freeze in its veins. “She’s not in her room, she’s gone! Oh my god Aeden! Call the police… Call someone.” The door clattered open, and a woman in her forties appeared, face tear-stained and stricken “Kat!!”

Arthur hadn’t been able to stop himself, the cries stirring a bone-deep urge to help. No matter what. He fudged the truth a little, using his connection with Javier and affiliate liaison paperwork he kept in his bag to offer aid and gain entry to the scene before anyone else could arrive. The window sat wide open, a smear dirt staining the pristine windowsill of the little girl’s bedroom and a few crumpled leaves from a tree he’d seen a few times on his walks back home in the evenings. “Tell the police everything when they get here, I promise you Mrs Crane… I’ll find your daughter. No matter what.”

He wouldn’t fail. Not this time. With a promise made, Arthur swept into the falling night swallowing down the rising wave of nausea and deja vu. He wouldn’t fail this time. Not again.

Hunting was the only thing that made sense in Kaden’s world. At least it used to. Increasingly it was getting more and more complicated. But tracking a Camazotz didn’t pose any moral questions or obligations or any bullshit as far as he could tell. As soon as he heard a report about a “giant freaking bat” spotted on the edge of the woods, he was out the door and on the trail.

There wasn’t a whole lot to go on. Some branches down in the trees that easily could have been from giant wings. Blood spots lining the ground. Trampled brush in a few places. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Kaden to get started. Weapons on his back and more at his side, he started trekking into the forest to hunt and kill a monster to help protect the people of White Crest; the thing he was born and bred to do. It was so hard to remember that lately. A good kill would set him straight, realign his priorities. Help him figure out “his own code” as Theo put it.

Crouched down, looking for the next trace of the beast, listening deeply for any unusual sounds, Kaden jumped when he heard the call come in. Shit, forgot he had his radio turned on. Still, he listened. Missing girl, strange tracks, signs of a body being dragged. Sure, it could have easily been a typical kidnapping case but from the sound of it, something was off. Just off enough to suspect supernatural foul play. Especially given what he was tracking. Maybe these were separate incidents but it wasn't unheard of for the giant bat monsters to drag a human off with them, especially a child. Putain, he could be too late. He should pick up his pace.

Kaden had every reason to believe he was alone in the woods, especially this far. So the sound of footsteps wasn’t exactly comforting. Cautiously, he headed towards the sound, keeping note of the direction he strayed from his trail. He saw a man a little ways off, determined and seemingly singular minded in whatever the hell mission he was on. A death march, maybe. In these woods, at least. Once he got a little closer, Kaden realized he recognized the face. “Arthur?” he called out. What the hell was a professor doing here? Now? “Hey, you shouldn’t be out here. It’s not safe.”

Without more information, Arthur knew he had to prepare for a worst case scenario. Whatever he’d been following with Javier seemed to have some kind of vampiric inclination and while this wasn’t the creature’s typical MO it couldn’t just be coincidence that someone he was related to had been chosen at a similar timeframe as the other attacks. Plus the disappearance of the detective, without word or warning? Something strange was up there. Or perhaps it was just that. A really, really bad coincidence and Arthur was wading into something he really wasn’t prepared for. But when it came to family, regardless how distant you did whatever it took to save them.

Didn’t you?

There was no time to waste, but it would be suicide to go after whatever had taken Katherine from her bedroom without some form of equipment. After the mime, it had been a process of starting to collect the necessary tools to keep his home defended from any further incursions. Mainly a stockpile of stakes, holy water, a bow slung across one shoulder, his ancient cold iron handaxe that had been cared for across the centuries would deal with ghosts and fae alike. Grabbing the necessary things for whatever might go down tonight he left for the woods with all the speed in the world. All in all feeling as comfortable as anyone could do wading into the woods in the pitch dark of night after an unknown monstrosity that could almost certainly kill you and drain your internal organs without visible laceration. In hindsight, he should’ve called Freyja or someone, let them know what a ridiculous thing he was planning. But rational thought had fled his mind the moment he’d found out she’d been taken and in a way, he didn’t want Frey to know. She’d seen the disaster he’d become after Abigail and if this went wrong, there was no telling how he’d be able to face her again and say he’d willingly run headlong into this situation.

It was Abigail all over again, and Arthur could feel the lump of his heart in his throat at the mere thought of what had happened to his precious girl all those years before. An ancient tragedy, and not a tale he wished to see retold tonight.

What he wasn’t accounting for, as he followed the path of broken overhead branches further towards the Outskirts, was another person to be out here as well. Let alone Kaden. Of all the hunters… How had he ended up with this incompetent pie spying buffoon… He cut his thoughts off there as Kaden told him it wasn’t safe out here and a dark look crossed his typically amicable features, “no shit it’s not safe, a kid got taken by a fucking monster.”

Arthur was about the last person Kaden had intended to see out there. What he’d expected even less was his reaction. Was he still fucking marching on like he intended to be out here? Putain. What in the hell? Wasn’t he meant to be smart? “Hey!” he called out and reached for his shoulder, trying to stop him, to distract him from whatever singularity he was headed towards. It didn’t work. It was clear his mind was elsewhere, determined. Not an excuse for heading straight into danger. Then again, he saw the man had weapons on him. Alright, then. Didn’t strike him as a hunter and he’d never seen in him any capacity like that before in the few months he’d been here but appearances could be deceiving.

“I know that. I’m police. How do you know that?” He followed on the other man’s heels, hoping to get in front of his path, force him to stop. But only one of them seemed confused right now and it wasn’t the professor. “I got the call. Whatev--” Fuck. Did he know about the supernatural? Didn’t matter. “Whoever it is, whatever it is, it’s dangerous. What the hell are you going to do about it?” Another quick look up and down the man, at his weapons. They didn’t seem to live there attached to him the way Kaden’s did. Kaden’s holsters and sheaths were well worn, at home at his side and on his back. There was one exception of Arthur’s. An axe that looked anything but modern. His brow furrowed, staring at it a moment, before realizing he’d fallen behind. Kaden ran and put himself in front of Arthur and his path. “Go home. I don’t need you getting in the way of my hu--” Right. Not hunt. This was “police” work. “My assignment. This isn’t your call. You’re a civilian. Go home. I’ve got it.”

Thinking straight was not something Arthur was presently doing. Too many memories and thoughts swirled around in his mind, clouding his judgement and reasoning when it came to what he was about to do. But wasting time would hardly do. A little girl had been taken and if his past experience with the WCPD was anything to go by, she’d be dead by the time they ever got wind of where she might’ve been taken and it wasn’t as if they could deal with this… Perhaps a hunter… But then who did he know in town other than Adam? And he sure as heck wasn’t putting a kid in the line of fire… And to find another one would take more time than it he had to spare. So here he was, traipsing through the forest in search of whatever had taken Katherine and he suspected might’ve taken Javier too.

“You’re animal control,” that hardly qualified him as police in Arthur’s mind. Two separate divisions, associated yes but still distinctly different. Though he left the question of how he knew what was going on unanswered. It wasn’t worth wasting the breath right now. “Yeah, it is” his typically amicable tone was short and decisive, “so either you come with and help me get that kid back from it because I’m going after it regardless… I’ve been helping to track this thing for months now.” And what had come of it? The detective missing and now one of his descendents taken in the middle of the night… The wicked blade gripped in his hand glinted as he turned to give Kaden a long, searching look for but a moment as he continued to walk leaving Kaden to catch up. “Stop telling me what to do hunter,” proof enough that Arthur wasn’t going to pander around the bushes tonight “every moment you waste trying to tell me to do something we both know isn’t going to happen, the greater chance that thing is going to eat that girl.”

“So quit with the officer act, I’m not going home and two pairs of hands are better than one in these sorts of things.” As Kaden called him a civilian he huffed, wanting to bite back with something smart but instead he kept silent and carried on, hefting the familiar blade in his hand. “What weapons do you have?”

“Badge still says WCPD,” he said. “Remind me what the hell your badge says. That’s right. You don’t have one.” Sure, Kaden had sort of gotten a fast track through the academy, mostly due to the fact he was pretty sure they didn’t expect him to last longer than a month at best. And it wasn’t even that he particularly cared that much on a regular day but right now he was sticking to his guns. Including the one administered to him sitting in his truck.

Kaden stopped dead in his tracks at the word hunter. Hunter? He knew? Who told him? Did Nadia tell him? Blanche maybe? How the fuck did he kn-- Alright, sure, Kaden was out in the woods with a fucking areanel of weapons strapped to him but that wasn’t much different from how Arthur was looking right now. “I’m not a--” He bit his tongue. Couldn’t finish that lie, it was too much. “Alright let’s say I am a hunter. You’re sure as shit not. Why can’t you just leave it to someone capable of fighting whatever’s out there. I’d really like it if no one died today. Including you.” There was no doubt that Kaden’s words meant little to the professor. There were few times Kaden had seen this kind of sheer determination on someone’s face. Desperation mixed with vengeance and stubbornness. A fair few hunters had shown it going after a mark that had taken something or someone from them. He was pretty aware there was no stopping it. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to point out how fucking stupid this was. “Fine. But if your sets of hands gets you or me killed I swear.” Shitty threat, but it was all he had. Not like he could kill a human, anyway. He really should have suspected that Arthur knew about the supernatural. He’d mentioned fae and knew to take weapons to the woods. Still, he fucking hated this idea

“I’ve got knives, pistol, shotgun. I’m sure you didn’t miss that one,” he answered as he reluctantly followed the other man on their joint death march. “Iron and holy water just in case. And a stake. But I was tracking a camazotz. Giant bat,” he clarified just in case. “I was already tracking it when I heard the call. I assumed it was connected. But if you know so much, tell me what we’re looking for and I’ll tell you what I’ve got.”

They walked a little longer, following whatever trail he seemed to be following. “So who the hell is she to you?” he asked. Had to be important if he was this fucking determined.

“Animal control, doesn’t make you police but it’s a good cover, considering...” Arthur gave Kaden another quick look, eyeing the things attached to his belt and back. No further remarks were made, however, you had to pick the battles you fought in and that wasn’t a debate he truly wanted to get into right now.

Seeing how Kaden seemed to stop dead, Arthur fought back the urge to heave a put upon sigh. “Look mate, your entire thing screams hunter, you’re in the woods late at night, you have christ knows how many stakes, probably some silver bullets judging by those guns. No point beating about the bush.” Would it keep Kaden up to pace? “Capable?” oh the things he wanted to say to that. “I’ll be fine, I’ve dealt with worse situations than this one, Plus, I’d hate to think I let you go out there to your death without helping.” He’d manage. He always had. Time and time again. Plus, it wasn’t as if he were ill equipped for handling… life or death situations. “This thing’s murdered eight maybe nine people already, it’s bloody fucking smart and so it’s evaded every effort to catch, track or murder it. It’s going to need more than one person to kill it.” That wasn’t desperation talking, it was pure logic. The threat was met with a deadpan look, “is that seriously what you’re going to try and level with me at? You need to get better insults, Kaden.”

As Kaden listed off the weaponry he had, Arthur ran a mental list. “Alright. Then between use we should have enough to deal with this thing.” He hefted the blade, the wicked edge catching the moonlight illuminating ancient looking runic patterning carved into the head while he explained, “cold iron and doused in holy water, just in case… Taking the head off most things tends to do the trick.”

He frowned a little at the mention of a camazotz, huh, so that was what they’d be tracking was it? “Can’t say I’ve had many encounters with them… Admittedly, I’m not sure what it was specifically but it’s been loose for several months. Detective Javier - federal agent dude? I was helping on his case until… well.” He made a face, and since Kaden worked at the police office he already no doubt knew of the federal agent’s disappearance. “Out of curiosity, what do they feed on?”

Arthur eyed the branches above, mindful of his foot placing to keep his tread soft. “A-- close family friend.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, though not the straight truth either and he wasn’t planning to elaborate on it any more than that. They walked for a little while longer, but Arthur couldn’t help one question he’d been pondering, “so how does a hunter end up dating a fae?” his tone lacked judgement, in fact, it was plain curiosity that coloured his words.

“Considering I can be transferred to a standard cop at any time I think it fucking does. Any cover is just a convenience.” Kaden was hardly the first hunter to find cover within a police department. He was sure he wouldn’t be the last. Hell, he’d seen a handful of officers at the Silver Bullet once or twice now. Not that any of it fucking mattered at the moment. “I don’t know you’re who’d I’d fucking have picked to help but fine. You want to come with me? Let’s go hunt a fucking monster. And try not to make it ten plus deaths on its hit count.” Still fucking hated this idea.

“Correct,” he said, eying the axe once more. “And if we run into one of the exceptions, we probably didn’t have a shot anyway.” Not a very comforting thought, but it was true all the same. “But you’re right, beheading normally works.” His stomach dropped thinking of Bea. Fuck. Not right now. Not the time.

“Javier?” Kaden realized how long it had been since he’d seen the agent. “I thought he left town. I mean I didn’t hear anything.” Or rather, he hadn’t noticed. Shit. “Anyway, camazotz feed on blood and dead animals, but they’re highly aggressive. Wouldn’t hesitate to hunt or carry a child away.” Hopefully that’s all it did. And the girl in question was still alive.

“Must be real close for all this trouble.” Kaden couldn’t say what it was, but something about the other man’s words struck him as a lie. Or a bend in the truth. Possibly just a stretch. Or a cover. Who knew. He wasn't sure it mattered. If he wanted to risk his life for nothing more than a family friend, that was his business.

“Because she wasn’t fae when we first started dating,” he said, trying not to let too much bite seep into his words. “I mean, she was. But she wasn’t, I don’t know, triggered yet or whatever they call it. She seemed human. In a lot of senses she was.” Kaden tried not to linger on how it was with Regan before her father died. Her warm skin, her racing pulse, no wings, no shattered glass, no throbbing eardrums. It hurt just a little bit every time he remembered, worse knowing how desperately she wanted to go back to being almost human. He couldn’t let himself want that. It was bad enough if one of them didn’t accept it, let alone both. It couldn’t be undone. The period for mourning that was past. At least for him.

There weren’t too many clues to follow on the way there. The forest was relatively quiet, but there were enough broken branches and a few deep scuffs and scrapes in the earth that looked like dragging that they were able to follow and pick through. After a while, Kaden stopped and put his arm out to stop Arthur, putting his finger to his lips. There was a sound. Something wholly inhuman. Hard to identify. Almost like a… “There’s a ticking sound, do you hear it?” he whispered. His brow furrowed. It didn’t sound like a camazotz. But he couldn’t say what it was, either.

No response was offered, antagonising Kaden and getting the other man’s heckles up wouldn’t be beneficial right now. So Arthur opted to keep his peace and mind his own for now. The fact Kaden seemed to give up on insisting he go away and leave this down to him was a step in the right direction.

“No probably not,” he agreed to the notion of them not having a chance if it was something they hadn’t come across. But at least they could give it their best shot… and well, Arthur could only hope that maybe he’d come back from this one. Though it wouldn’t be the first close call to go completely sideways. As they moved deeper into the woods the heavy scent of detritus and composting earth grew stronger, it was strangely comforting. Terrain he’d grown up walking and an environment he felt comfortable traversing.

“No, he vanished… His stuff is still at the station last I checked,” which if Kaden worked there gave some insight into how much attention he paid his coworkers “I think this thing got him.” What else could have? Actually… Starting to think along that line, there were a lot of things that could have gotten him. Not ideal. But here they were. “How do they feed?” he questioned glancing over to Kaden, “do they leave a mark? Or do they feed without leaving a trace… ‘Cause the thing I’ve been after seems to eat a person’s organs without leaving a single sign of laceration… It’s like they’ve been eviscerated without even being cut open.”

“Something like that,” he agreed but didn’t offer up anything further to clarify. It was his business why he was here and he didn’t particularly feel like sharing right now. What was interesting, was listening to what Kaden had to say about Regan. Mostly because he’d spoken regarding the issue with Nadia and it was something he wanted insight into. “So the faeness hadn’t been like- uh activated? Did her family not know or was she raised by humans?” that was curious, most fae were taken in or raised in the beliefs of their own unless they weren’t… “Does she understand what she is?”

Talk stopped as the grooves in the upturned ground grew deeper. Like whatever had come this way grew tired or simply couldn’t be bothered to carry whatever it had taken. Or maybe they were just near its nest… Quietly, Arthur inhaled the scent of damp earth and static that seemed to charge the air as though they stood on the edge of a brewing storm just waiting to break. The ticking was loud, as though a clock were right beside them except there was no glint of metal or anything of the sort. Weird. “Yeah… It’s… well, a couple of neighbours reported hearing ticking around the time of the murder.” He kept his voice quiet not wishing to give away their location if possible, “let’s keep downwind…” his eyes tracked the nearby foliage and route they’d been following which seemed to open up ahead into some kind of clearing “looks like it opens up ahead… Maybe we can circle around, get a look before we go in? If the kid’s in there… We’ll need to lure it away or else she might get caught in the crossfire.” And that was not something Arthur was willing to have happen. Abigail might not have survived but Katherine was going home to her parents. He’d damn well see to that.

“Camazotz?” Kaden asked. “They don’t exactly feed delicately. Not like a vampire. Mostly just tear things apart. They get pretty aggressive.” His mouth pulled into a thin line. It didn’t exactly add up to a giant bat monster. “Well then, guess we got two monsters, then. Because I know I was tracking a camazotz earlier.” Fuck. He rubbed his face a moment, trying to piece shit together. Grabbed children, removed organs. No trace. It could be some kind of vampire? Maybe? Didn’t sound much like fae, other than maybe a glaistig, but he had a feeling they were pretty messy eaters if he remembered correctly. Guess they’d have to find out together. He was sure this would all click when he saw what they were up against.

Kaden’s brow furrowed. He didn’t really understand why Arthur cared. And how did he know about activation? It wasn’t something he was familiar with really as a hunter. Not that he was a warden or anything. There was something he wasn’t saying. A few things. He was sure of that. “Guess not. Her family is her biological one as far as I know, if that’s what you’re asking. And they sure sound human to me, though. She barely will say the word fae but she sort of gets it. She knows shit’s different.” There was no way she understood it, though. But that hardly felt like his fucking business.

The more of the tracks they followed, the farther away the sound got. Kaden squinted his eyes, tried to dig down deep into his well of knowledge. He’d studied so many different species as a kid under his parent’s guidance. He knew he learned about something like this “The softer that ticking, the closer we are,” he whispered to his current companion. But shit, nothing else was there. Putain de fucking merde. He sighed and had to accept that was all that was coming as he followed the tracks downwind. For as useless as he was sure the guy would be later on, his ideas weren’t completely out of line yet. “And how do you suggest we lure it out without harming the kid? If it’s feeding, it might be too fucking late.”

It didn’t add up. What Kaden described and the things Arthur had seen with his own eyes didn’t amount in his mind to this being the same creature. Which doubled the danger tonight. Either they were up against a camazotz as Kaden suggested or it was some other fiend. Or maybe even both. “Ah skide,” he muttered under his breath the thought not sitting all too well with him. One creature yeah maybe two? That changed things. But then Arthur thought of Katherine, and of Abigail and the flare of resolve settled once more. They’d just have to figure it out.

In all honesty, it was curiosity, attempting to piece together the fragments of information he held the tethers of and frame them into something that made some sort of rational sense of a situation he really only had an outline of. But the clarification gave some pieces to fill in a larger picture. “Huh,” interesting but while his curiosity wished to poke for more information Arthur got the sense it would only provoke Kaden’s ire which wasn’t something he particularly wanted to do right now.

He shifted the bow off his shoulder moving and handling the weapon with a familiar ease. Some things never left you. Still, Arthur kept low mindful of his foot-placement; he hadn’t stalked a creature in a fair while but the memories of the necessary steps hadn’t entirely forgone him. Kaden’s information was useful, and Arthur tilted his head to listen out for the ticking that seemed to grow a little louder as they moved around the clearing.

Eventually, Arthur stopped crouched on the edge of the clearing illuminated by the moon filtering through broken branches overhead. There were scrape marks near a hole in the ground, likely where this creature had gone. They needed to lure it out. Maybe his own blood? Would that entice the creature? But then again luring it straight to them seemed like a ridiculously risky plan. “Maybe,” he agreed softly his eyes fixing on a shape that turned out to be a deer stepping into the clearing; a potential distraction revealing itself then “or maybe we need to give it something else to focus on.” This thing fed on organs, so blood was bound to get its attention right? “Draw it out with that, then we ambush it when it comes out to investigate?”

Arthur knocked an arrow and drew the string a little slowly, taking aim but holding the shot until he heard Kaden’s verdict on the idea. It wasn’t as if going into the hole was anything but a suicide mission. Better to utilise the element of surprise if they could.

There was no doubt in Kaden’s mind that the hole they found led directly to the monster in question, whatever it was. The ticking was so soft it was almost a whisper. They were close. Or rather, it was close. So close Kaden was sure it had to have an idea they were there. If it didn’t, it was too deep into feeding on that child and they were far too late. At this point there was no way they were still hunting the camazotz, he’d have to double back for that another day most likely. He sighed looking at it. Hopping down was nothing but that death wish he’d snipped at Arthur about earlier. Before he could work together a plan, see if he had anything he could throw down there, the other man was pointing out the deer nearby. Kaden sighed as his mouth pulled into a thin line. “Blood, sure.” Luring it out was a good idea, no doubt. But if this was a vampire and one that favored organs to boot, he had a hard time believing any animal would satiate it. Arthur has already taken aim. “Go ahead. But if it’s got the kid down there, it doesn’t really need a snack.”

The lure wasn’t a horrible plan all the same. Kaden was hardly a slayer. He knew a lot about a good number of vampire species and while he couldn’t recall the specifics on this ticking one or the proper name, he knew damn well no deer was going to remotely compare to a human. In that case, it seemed like one simple option presented itself. And even that was a gamble. Kaden pulled out his knife and sliced down on top of his arm. A few times, making sure to tilt the blood pooling out of his flesh down the hole. He winced as the sting of the wound hit him, but it was fine. He’d heal fast enough. And the adrenaline kick of the pain didn’t hurt to have on his side. Once he was pretty sure a sufficient amount had slid on down as far as it would go, Kaden listened and heard movement in the distance. “Hide. Get in positions. Something,” he whispered to Arthur as he scrambled to find some cover away from the hole, get a weapon out and ready. Hopefully.

Arthur’s eyes cut aside with Kaden’s remark, his lips thinned in mild discontent considering he didn’t exactly see the hunter suggesting anything useful right now. Instead of letting the arrow fly he eased the tension on the string and lowered his aim. He’d been about to ask what better idea Kaden had to get this thing out of there when a line of crimson spilled forth over Kaden’s palm. Arthur’s gaze switched between the blood and the hole. Gods did this man have a death wish?

It had been a momentary thought that had crossed his mind to employ but considering the point was to lure the damn thing out away from them this seemed entirely counterintuitive considering it would lure the creature straight to them and a head on fight was not a thing he was looking for or in all honesty prepared for.

But here they were.

Arthur shifted back trying to put some distance between him and the hole, taking refuge behind a nearby rock.

The ticking noise grew momentary louder and louder and louder still. Had they scared it away? Strange… He strained to listen, but from where he crouched it only seemed to get louder.

Why would it run?

Unless…. Maybe there were other exits...

It was too late that he saw the flurry of movement from the shadowed foliage just behind where Kaden crouched. Shit… “Kaden look out behind you!” but the shout was too late as in a sweeping black and grey blur the Aswang launched itself at Kaden slashing its taloned fingers in a flurry of strikes to try and rake him limb from limb.

The air stood still a moment as Kaden waited behind some brush nearby, the ticking growing louder a moment before cutting out. He heard it before he saw it. Not the ticking, but the rustle of movement behind him. Kaden turned on his heel, knife in hand, ready for whatever he was abou to face.

It was like time slowed down. He saw the talons lash out and he threw himself to the ground, rolling to the side out the way. This was the part Kaden was trained for, it came naturally by now. The split second decisions, reading the creatures movements and responding accordingly. One of the claws caught on his back, ripping into his skin, but it was nothing more than added fuel to his fire by now as he pushed himself up, slashing his knife into the legs of the monster, digging it in and pulling the blad as deep and far as he could. The creature screamed, letting loose an unnatural wail. Funny, it didn’t bother him much. It was surely no banshee.

His lips curled up into a smile as he dodged again, ready to bring the knife down for a second strike when the talons lashed out again. Shit. He ducked. Too confident. But now he was at its side, almost flanking it; Kaden reached in and jammed his knife behind its knee, twisting it for full impact. Good luck walking now, connasse.

The vampire wailed and flapped its wings as it floated up.

Putain .

Still, this gave him a second. Vampire. Clearly. Couldn’t say which one. Rare, he remembered that much. But he’d bet a fucking stake would do the trick either fucking way. He swapped his knife for a stake as quick as possible while also reaching back for the shotgun. He flipped the safety off, it was already loaded, and he started trying to shoot that piece of shit out the sky. It was fast as hell, but he could tell he clipped it once or twice.

Hopefully Arthur was checking on that girl. If she was even still alive. Best to get her the fuck out of here.

It seemed that Kaden had more of a handle on the situation than Arthur had admittedly anticipated. So when he rolled and dodged out of the slashing range of whatever this thing was- and damn was it fast. It was admittedly more impressive than perhaps Arthur might’ve give n Kaden credit earlier in their encounters. But here they were and if Kaden had a handle here then…

Arthur turned his attention to the tunnel, sliding down the verge and out of the bushes towards the gaping darkness that penetrated the compacted earth leading to Gods knew where. Who knew how far it went down and whether the child would even still be down there but he had to search. Otherwise what was the point?

The sounds of mud and branches cracking at the commotion behind him continued and Arthur balled his fingers up in a fist before snapping his fingers together the friction sparking flame to life in his palm and lighting up the entrance which he could now see was smeared with dark black patches… No doubt where other meals of this creature had been dragged on the nights it hadn’t raided town and the smell was enough to make him wrinkle his nose in disgust.

But there was no time to waste, stepping forwards Arthur’s foot slipped a little on some loose earth on the sharp decline of the tunnel. Bracing himself he crouched and shuffled forwards, slipping here and there on the traversal, down and down to the occasional ledge until the burrow flattened out and grew in height to the point Arthur could stand at a hunch the shadows driven away by the flame in his palm. There was no noise down here, save the echoes of his inhale and exhale. “Ab-” no, that wasn’t right “Katherine?” he called holding the flame up but hearing no response.

Shit .

Without another word Arthur plunged forwards into the network of tunnels calling out and hoping for some kind of response.

It was a couple of minutes walking when he heard it: sniffles and short-sharp snivels of a child trying not to cry. Picking up his pace, occasionally bumping his head on a few lumps of the ceiling Arthur had to drop down to his knees and squeeze through a narrower passage that widened into a small underground cavern. The shadows bouncing off the walls and illuminating the three-by-three metre ish space along with a little girl in muddied gryffindor pyjamas smeared with blood huddled amongst a pile of strewn bones.

“Katherine?” Arthur tried to keep the panic from his voice, keep it level, calm as he crawled nearer pausing when she flinched and holding his other hand up as a scared pair of gunmetal grey eyes peered back at him. Eyes he’d seen countless times in a mirror. “Hey now… Your mummy and daddy sent me… My name’s Arthur.”

A few more sniffles followed before she lifted her head, fear plain as day in her features “is the scary monster gone?”

“My brave friend is fighting it…” slowly Arthur moved forwards, “but we need to get out of here hm? Get you home. I’m going to need you to be brave.” His eyes went to the nightclothes, “brave like Hermione hm? Can you do that for me?”

The little girl’s eyes went from his face to the fire floating above his palm, it took a few but her young mind seemed to process the options of a magic man here to help or an angry monster. With a slow nod she unballed and slowly crawled over, taking Arthur’s one outstretched and unflaming hand. “‘Mione always has a plan… Beat the bad bad monsters…”

“That’s right… Come on, let’s beat the bad monsters.” Arthur stooped, scooping her up and heading back along the route they’d come as quickly as possible. Gods he hoped Kaden was capable enough to pull this off.

Kaden was reloading when he saw a flash of motion. The professor with a death wish must have gone off to find the kid. Good.

Less good was the fact that when he turned his attention back to where the monster had been, there was no monster. Putain.

He felt the claws swipe at his back and screamed out in pain, curling away from the attack as best he could before reeling around to get a good look at it. Before Kaden could take another shot, the monster had pinned him to the ground and was going for his throat. Not fucking today. Kaden took the butt of the handle and rammed it at the monster’s head as he struggled to keep it away from his arteries. The beast squealed and seemed a bit stunned. It was a split second, but that was all Kaden needed to jam his knee into the creature and push it off him. It was strong, he still only made about a few inches of room for him to scramble away, but it was enough. He pulled out his knife and dug the blade in wherever he could get a piece. The talons were at him again, but this time his knife hit the wings, straight through. He yanked the blade down with all he had, even as he felt a claw dig into his leg. Blood spilled and sprayed as the monster tried to flinch and flap its wing. There was no escape now, not for either of them.

Kaden took the mere moments he had until the beast came at him again to reach for his stake. The talons dug deeper into his leg and he could feel the monster’s breath on his neck, inches away from tearing at his flesh when Kaden jammed the wooden stake into its heart. For a second, he thought he’d missed and he was sure that the teeth were about to sink into him, not even to feed, but to kill. Then, the monster paused and shuttered, then turned to dust.

As the dust settled and fell on top of him, Kaden collapsed farther onto the ground. Everything fucking hurt. Right, yeah, that was a lot of injuries. They were all pulsing now. Fuck. He’d have to get off of the ground eventually. “You still alive?” he called out to Arthur. If he was even still around. Kaden had no fucking clue. For all he knew, he was talking to himself. “What about the kid?” Maybe if they were there, it’d inspire him to sit up and assess his injuries, get up off the floor. Maybe. Ow.

It was a struggle up the shingle laden slope and several times his footing slipped; threatening to give way and plummet them back down into the depths of the tunnels. It was harder trying to do this one handed, but here they were. Arthur could hear the fight; impacts of what he could only assume was a blade or some weapon Kaden had brought along and the wails of a creature still continuing to fight. Well, credit to him for surviving this long. Suddenly the friction of his boots gave way and Arthur cursed reaching out blindly for the wall in the hopes of latching onto something.

His fingers hooked in on a divot, rocks crumbling down behind them as Katherine whimpered; her eyes screwed up tight. There was no helping the grunt as the jagged rock sliced into his palm and blood welled between his fingers. Gods he wasn’t built for this stuff anymore. He never had been and yet he always ended up getting into situations that called for brute strength. Typical. Maybe he needed to take Mer up on that gym offer. Still he persevered, arms and shoulders burning he gritted his teeth and hauled them both up and over immediately pushing the child away from the entrance and rolling over to survey the beast on top of Kaden. “Bloody hell--” he muttered scrambling to his feet and coaxing Kat up “go hide by the rocks okay? Wait until the monster’s gone.”

The little girl fled without question and Arthur unhooked the axe from his belt about to charge in…

Right as the monster exploded in a cloud of grey dust. Picked up and scattered by a wind that howled through the clearing. “Well… That’s one way to do it,” he murmured, shunting the axe and fixing it back into his belt as he walked over. “Bit shaken but she’s okay...“ He stopped near Kaden, summoning a flame to his palm as he sought any patches of blood noticing the one on Kaden’s leg. “Did it get you anywhere else?” he asked, shifting to kneel and inspect the wound, pulling the tattered material open to inspect the gash that oozed blood. Wiping his mud speckled brow on the sleeve of his jacket to clear his eyes. “Just stay there for a sec, let me see this,” he set his free hand that wasn’t illuminating the area to one side of the wound, willing a few tears that came from natural emotional relief that they’d managed to get here in time. The dripped onto the wound, sizzling for a moment before vanishing as the muscle and sinew started to thread itself back together. When he was sure the wound was going along on track he swiped his eyes again and sat back looking over towards the rocks. “Kat! You can come out now… The monster’s gone.”

A moment passed before the young girl hesitantly shuffled from behind the cover. Matted raven hair, dark, a messy tangle, and bright gunmetal grey eyes. An unknown family trait. “Did you get it?”

“My friend here did,” Arthur looked at Kaden offering a hand out for him to take to get back to his feet “I told you he would.”

“She’s okay? Shit. That’s unexpected.” Kaden’s eyes went wide a second. “But good! That’s good. Just sort of used to worst case scenarios.” Kaden earned a fucking nap after this. But the forest floor wasn’t the place for that. He was about to stand up when Arthur was standing over him, telling him to stay still. “I’m fine, I can assess my own wounds, thanks,” he said, going to sit up. Kaden sighed when it was clear that he wasn’t going to be given that option. Every instinct he had was to kick out as Arthur examined his leg; he fucking hated having anyone tend his wounds. It made him entirely too vulnerable and helpless. It also made him stupid to not let someone take care of his injuries but allt he same. But as Kaden looked up at Arthur, his brow furrowed. Was the man’s hand on fire? That was definitely fire. Coming out of his hand. “ Putain de merde,” he grumbled mostly to himself. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a spell--” The creases in his forehead only deepened as he felt small drops of something hit his leg. And then the pain fading. “Okay, then…” Kaden trailed off, trying to fit the pieces of this puzzle together. Flame hands, healed leg, and it looked like Arhur was wiping something off his face. He opened his mouth to ask when he called over the child. A little girl. Dark hair and light eyes. And something a little familiar, though he couldn’t pinpoint it. Still, there went all opportunity to try and get some answers. He knew what he wanted to ask couldn’t happen in front of a kid. But he had a hunch his current companion was no moral human but something else entirely.

He was glad to see her alive. By all accounts, she shouldn’t be. It was good when hunting actually worked the way it was meant to. Monster slain, humans saved, no one dead, all was well. He took Arthur’s hand and let the man pull him up, wincing as the scrapes across his back throbbed with pain. Guess he was going to be sleeping on his side for a while. “Yup, monster’s dead. You won’t have to worry about her anymore.” That wasn’t true. Kid would see this in her nightmares for years to come, no doubt. For a second he considered leaning down to get closer to her level. Then his back told him that was completely out of the question. “I bet you were really brave down there. And now Mr. Arthur is going to make sure you get home safe and sound, right?” His last question was directed more towards the adult. The likely very supernatural adult. Part of him wanted to object, tell Arthur he had this handled. Trusting that a supernatural could care for a human was hard for him. Even given, well, everything. Sure, he’d healed Kaden, helped rescue the kid, but maybe the healing was just blackmail, waiting to be collected as payment later. And who knew who this girl really was to him anyway. Still, he wasn’t in much shape to argue. And he wouldn’t do it in front of a child, not if he could help it. She had enough trauma for one night. “Come on, let’s get back. We’ll have time to talk later. Don’t need to spend any more time in these woods than we have to. “

“I bet,” how many worst case scenarios? Flashes of the dead crossed Arthur’s mind, some collateral damage over the years and others premeditated in their demise. Too many hunters that had left a sour taste in his mouth, but they had their uses on occasion. Arthur ignored the comments, a smear of mud across his face from the brush of his hand obfuscating any evidence of what he’d done to fix Kaden’s leg only that he’d fixed it. It was a dangerous game to play perhaps, but he’d rather not be responsible for leaving him out here unable to walk to be bait for whatever else might just happen to fancy a midnight snack. Arthur had some morals and centuries of a keen sense to leaving no person behind meant often he felt compelled to help even if he had no particular reason or benefit to.

With a grunt of effort he hauled Kaden up to his feet stepping back but lingering close enough towards the child with a degree of protectiveness that he didn’t care or seem inclined to explain. Not right here and possibly not even in the future. But there were lingering concerns. The events of tonight would have repercussions for who knew how long? But that was an issue to deal with in the fallout. Right now there was only one thing of importance.

“Back home,” Arthur said eyeing Kaden for a moment and wondering just what was going through his mind. There was a moment of tension before he chose to let it go, perhaps they could both walk away from this though a part of him doubted that. Turning towards the young girl he bent and scooped her up, propping her on his hip where she buried her face against his shoulder.

Quietly, the trio turned back towards the darkness of the forest naught but ash and dust left behind them. Javier’s work here complete and some degree of justice served.

[saiilorstars]

The Beginning of Everything

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Female OC x 10th Doctor

(OC Face claim: Marjorie de Sousa)

// Story Masterlist // 

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Ch. 7: Partners in Crime

Chapter Summary: Renata struggles traveling with the Doctor after Martha's departure. She tries to follow the Doctor through his crazy ways of helping people but she just can't help but point out how many rules they break! And the Doctor doesn’t make it any easier when he tries to argue with her.

"It's crazy-"

"Of course humans wouldn't be able to detect any-"

"-what you're saying-"

"-extraterrestrial signals but I have the-"

"-I mean what's the point of-"

"-TARDIS constantly checking for anything strange and there it was," the Doctor pushed the monitor so that it was in front of Renata. "Adipose Industries. Bunch of conspiracy theories-"

"Doctor, the humans are always looking for crazy theories-"

"Well it happens that these are not so far off. We really should just pop in and check to make sure everything is alright."

There was a clear 'why' written across Renata's face. "What is your obsession with planet Earth?" That was one question she'd been asking ever since she met the Doctor on Gallifrey. Up to now, she suspected there wasn't a clear answer.

The Doctor just smiled at her question. "Renee, I really think we need to check it out. Just a couple of investigation scenes and-"

"Which will involve us breaking in and lying to officials - no, no way!" Renata turned away from the monitor, intending on going into the corridors so that she wouldn't have to listen to anymore of the nonsense.

"Oh we're not going to be doing anything bad!" the Doctor reached forwards and grabbed her arm.

"Really?" Renata pulled her arm and crossed them. "What does your little plan entail, exactly?"

"Just, you know, bit of the pyschic paper and-"

Renata stopped him with a hand in his face. "Psychic paper? You mean that little portable lying booklet?"

"That's...a strange name to give it but...sure," the Doctor nodded his head.

"And in that little paper we're going to lie and say we're some other people to get ourselves into the Adipose headquarters?"

"Um...yes," the Doctor had to contain himself under Renata's scolding face. To him, honestly, it was both funny and a bit scary how serious she got sometimes. He'd come to learn that it was often.

"Do you hear yourself?" Renata raised her hands in front of her, making it clear she wanted no part in this plan. "You're going to go in that building, interrupt business and for what? Conspiracy theories?"

"Renee, I'm going," the Doctor left it clear, turning for the console and preparing the controls to land on Earth. "Question is, will you be coming to make sure I don't get into trouble or will you be here."

Renata's eyebrows raised almost increduliously. "Am I to be your babysitter?"

"Well, no, but you seem so determined to give yourself that role…"

"Doctor!" Renata huffed.

"Well, you are!" the Time Lord turned around to defend himself before she decided to smack him on the back.

"We've been at this for a month-" Renata gestured between them, "-and you can't seriously understand that I am against the lying and breaking in?"

"You didn't have trouble in 1913," the Doctor mumbled under his breath.

Renata's eyes widened. "I was doing that to fit in! Not to break in all silly-nilly!" A small smile began spreading across the Doctor's face. "Why are you smiling?" Renata crossed her arms, expecting there to be some joke she hadn't caught like usual.

"You said silly-nilly, but somehow I'm the one that uses childish words."

Renata air-strangled him but brought her balled hands to her mouth. "Sometimes I just can't with you!"

"So you've said in this past month," the Doctor said all proudly which only irritated Renata even more.

One month she had been in the TARDIS with the Doctor after Martha left them, and somehow she hadn't strangled the Doctor into his next incarnation. Yes, the Doctor had done everything in his power to make sure she felt welcomed in the TARDIS - which she truly did. And yes, he was never purposely rude to her and he was always attentive to what she needed or where she wanted to go. But that didn't stop him from frustrating her with his childish antics and constant rule breaking and running.

Renata honestly wondered how he had made it this far without regenerating again.

Every day he had somewhere new he wanted to go and almost every time there was something he just needed to help and save which would then bring along danger and a lot of running. When they weren't travelling, the Doctor was 'fixing' the console and causing things to break. He was a fast talker when he was excited and thus had Renata's ears nearly fall off when they were together discussing things of home or some experiences they've had.

It truly felt like they were those young Time Lords again still messing around in her foundation.

Renata tried pushing those feelings away, every day, but being so close didn't help. Now there she was...bickering away with him...and remembering everything she'd fought for so long to forget.

"Renata, c'mon, it'll be fun," the Doctor smiled incredibly wide and held out a hand for her, wiggling his fingers.

She hated herself. She truly did. Renata took her hand, ignoring the Doctor's face momentarily go smug, and let him bring her back to the console.

~ 0 ~

A couple of hours later, the two embarked on a journey for Adipose Industries. As the two walked along a busy street, Renata continuously looked around like they were already going to get caught. The wind blew much of her blonde hair on her face, making it more difficult for her to keep a 'look out'.

"I see it," she said to the Doctor once she caught sight of the large building meant to serve as headquarters for the company. "But there's plenty of security check, I'm sure."

"Good thing we're going through the back," the Doctor pulled her to the left to go along the building towards its back.

Renata's head did a double-take in the process. "The back? What? Like actual thieves?"

The Doctor preferred not to get into a whole argument on the technicalities of what they were doing. Renata grew even more self-conscious as they arrived to a fire exit.

"What are you doing?" she nearly hissed when she saw him pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

"Getting us in," he motioned as he flicked on the sonic.

"Oh my God, we're actually breaking in - ah," she put a hand over her chest and looked around, properly frightened.

The Doctor hid his amused smile in his work. It was actually rather adorable the way she got so worked up over things he did so normally. When the door opened, they crossed into a set of solitary corridors. All the noise came from their quick strides.

"Doctor," Renata had another near attack when she saw a security guard walking opposite of them. Her arm curled around his on instinct.

Without conflict, he just pulled out the psychic paper and flashed it at the security as they passed on by. "John Smith, Renata Cartwright, Health and Safety."

"How do you do that so calmly?" Renata whispered to him despite leaving the security guard well behind.

"Do what?" the Doctor repeated rather cluelessly.

"Great," Renta unwinded her arm from his and sighed, "You don't even realize you do it anymore."

After making it to the higher levels, they discovered that there was to be a private lecture from the very head of the company herself.

"You don't think they'd notice two unregistered people waltzing into the lecture room?" Renata had to ask as she followed behind the Doctor in a hallway.

"That's why we're not going there, clearly."

"What?" Renata stopped, dumbfounded. "Then where are we going?"

"Projector room, c'mon!"

Renata slowly continued to follow. "But...how are we getting in?"

~ 0 ~

"Health and Safety. Film department," the Doctor once more showed his psychic paper to a man working the computers in the projection room set right above the lecture room.

Renata shook her head behind the Doctor.

They were able to see the head, a blonde woman with glasses who went by 'Miss Foster', describe the components and process of her company's products to the small audience. "Adipose Industries. The 21st century way to lose weight. No exercise, no diet, no pain. Just lifelong freedom from fat. The Holy Grail of the modern age. And here it is. You just take one capsule, one capsule, once a day, for three weeks. And the fat, as they say…the fat just walks away."

Renata couldn't help scoff as she listened. "Do all the humans have an obsession with thinness?"

Beside her, the Doctor nudged her to be careful with her words. He motioned to the man working the computers who was giving Renata a curious look for her statement.

"U-uh," Renata flustered and looked at the window again. "I meant...the lot of humanity."

The Doctor gave a discreet shake of his head, fairly amused. Renata was one woman who did not know how to travel. That was novelty.

~ 0 ~

"Don't you think we're playing our luck here?" Renata walked right beside the Doctor through an aisle of small cubicles.

The Doctor had a bright idea to go to one of the employees and pick up a couple more information.

"Just relax, Renee," the Doctor wondered if he would ever get tired of telling that to her. Because everytime they traveleld somewhere, it was the same thing. She was overly nervous about getting caught.

They came into the cubicle of a young, dark-skinned woman who was in the middle of a call with a customer.

"John Smith, Renata Cartwright, Health and Safety. Don't mind us," the Doctor whispered so as not to interrupt her phone call. He let Renata take a seat first then took the one next to her.

Soon as she was done, the Doctor got straight to questioning. It truly amazed Renata how well he did it. There was no faltering, no stuttering, not a trace of nervousness in his face.

"If you could just give us a list of some of your customers we'll be on our way," the Doctor finished it off with a big nice smile.

The employee, Clare, seemed more than happy to oblige.

"That's the printer there?" the Doctor stood up for a moment, unknowingly giving Renata a hearts attack thinking he might get caught by Miss Foster. She'd only been in the room 15 minutes ago, what's stopping her from coming back?

"By the plant, yeah," Clare nodded.

"Brilliant," the Doctor beamed but Renata yanked him down to his seat again. Soon as her hand let go of his arm, he sprung right back on his feet. "Has it got paper?"

"Yeah, Jimbo keeps it stocked," Clare found him amusing.

Renata did not. She grasped the Doctor's arm and pulled him down with all her might. "Sit down!" she hissed. She then smiled at Clare. "Anyway, if you could print that off. We'll be on our way. Thanks."

The employee typed on her computer for a moment before giving them the 'ok' nod. Renata stood up followed by the Doctor but stopped when she heard the Doctor ask, "Oh, what's that?"

Renata turned around to see Clare giving him a piece of paper.

"My telephone number," the woman answered his question.

Renata raised her eyebrows.

The Doctor looked between the paper and Clare. "What for?"

There came a smirk across Clare's face. "Health and Safety. You be health, I'll be safety."

The Doctor stammered for an excuse. Renata...did not.

"I am going to report you!" she threatened the woman as she snatched the paper from the Doctor and slammed it on Clare's desk.

"What-"

"You can expect a call from your superiors tonight!" Renata grabbed the Doctor by the arm and yanked him out of the cubicle.

Honestly, she thought. Where was that human's professionalism!?

~0~

Night time fell and instead of going back to the TARDIS like Renata believed, the Doctor dragged her to continue investigating. This time they were set to pose as employees of Adipose Industries who made house visits. As the Doctor flashed his psychic paper to a lucky customer they were visiting, Renata rolled her eyes on the side and began to count the many times he'd done something like this and gotten away with it.

She couldn't count that high without losing her place.

Now sitting in the customer's, Roger's, living room, they listened to him how the pills had worked for him in so little time.

"I've been on the pills two weeks now, I've lost fourteen kilos!" he finished excitedly.

"That's the same amount every day?" asked the Doctor.

"One kilo exactly. You wake up, and it's disappeared overnight. Well, technically speaking, it's gone by ten past one in the morning."

Renata's brows knitted together. "I-I'm sorry...how...how is that?"

"That's when I get woken up," Roger answered in a matter of fact tone. "Might as well weigh myself at the same time."

"U-um…" Renata glanced at the Doctor to see if he was as confused as she was.

He was. "Could you...could you tell us more about that please?"

"Ten minutes past one, every night, bang on the dot without fail, the burglar alarm goes off. I've had experts in, I've had it replaced, I've even phoned Watchdog. But no, ten past one in the morning, off it goes."

"But with no burglars?" Renata asked to be sure.

"Nothing. I've given up looking."

The Doctor still did not falter. "Tell me Roger, have you got a cat flap?"

Renata made a face at that but nonetheless she followed the plan. Roger showed them to the cat flap on his front door, more than happy to show another person in case this one actually figured it out. "It was there when I bought the house. Never bothered with it. I'm not a cat person."

The Doctor had already begun screening it with his sonic. "No, I've met cat people. You are nothing like them," he murmured.

He's met cat people. Renata inwardly sighed. Of course he's met cat people.

"It's that what it is then? Cats getting inside the house?" Roger frowned.

"Well, thing about cat flaps is that they don't just let things in, they let things out as well…" the Doctor said slowly, still coming up with ideas to follow.

"Like what?"

"The fat just walks away..." The Doctor pushed himself back on his feet and turned to Roger with an excessive smile. "Well, thanks for your help. Tell you what, maybe you could lay off the pills for a week or so."

"Probably forever," Renata added. "You could just try the regular eat healthy and exercise thing..."

The Doctor stiffened when he heard a small 'bleep' from inside his jacket. "Ooh, we gotta go, sorry."

"What-"

The Doctor hurriedly opened the door brought Renata along with him. He reached inside his jacket to pull out a device he'd hand made earlier that day.

"When did you make that!?" Renata gave a face at the device, fearing it would explode like the last thing he made.

"This morning! Now hurry!" He let go of her completely and picked up his pace. Renata was also not good at running.

Groaning, Renata did her best to keep up.

She managed to catch up when he made a stop by the corner of one street. He banged a hand on his device, ignoring Renata's sarcastic 'that'll make it work' then ran off again.

"What are we looking for!?" Renata panted when they stopped again.

Not answering, the Doctor held up the device for a better signal. He waved it around then lowered it to check the readings. When it dinged, he beamed and ran again.

"Oh my God," Renata groaned and chased after him. They were nearly ran over by a rushing van in the process. However, soon as it passed by, the Doctor turned in the same direction to follow it...apparently, the signal was coming from it.

He finally came to a stop at an intersection and was disappointed to find the signal gone.

~ 0 ~

Much later would find the Doctor examining one of the golden capsules of the Adipose company. He was looking at it through a magnifying glass, far interested in its components. "Ohh, fascinating!" he gawked. "Seems to be a bio-flip digital stitch, specifically for…"

"Are we still on that?" Renata's voice stopped him in the middle of his discovery. He glanced back to find her leaning against the corridor's threshold.

"Well, uh, I was…" the Doctor motioned the magnifying glass still in his hand then lowered it.

"Still investigating," Renata finished for him, giving a small shake of her head. "Honestly Doctor, don't you ever get tired of fixing everyone's problems?"

Because she had asked in a simple, curious manner, the Doctor entertained it. "What do you mean?"

Renata shrugged her shoulders as she came off the threshold. "I mean just what I said. You always go and find a problem - like Sto's government and a broken water pipe - that you have to fix. Last week it was some planet's default engineering settings and today it's…" she had come up to him in the while of her explanation and took the Doctor's magnifying glass from, "...Adipose," she looked at him through the magnifying glass, her brown eyes enlarging from the glass.

"Are you asking me why I help people?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, finding the question too far even for her uptightness. Because yes, it only took a month to realize that Renata was uptight.

Knowing how that sounded, Renata ventured to clarify herself. "I don't mean that you shouldn't help people I just…" she thought about it for a second, "...isn't there the Shadow Proclamation to help with cases like these? They are the police and it should be up to them how things get fixed. I don't see why you have to keep doing it."

"The Shadow Proclamation is never that good," the Doctor gave a roll of his eyes, clear dislike for the place. "And I like helping. I can do it, don't see why I shouldn't."

"Yeah, I can see that you like to," Renata chuckled.

"And I can see that you not so much." And the Doctor truly appreciated how Renata was doing her best to keep up with him in his shenanigans.

"I do! You have no idea how much I love to help people, but...when I did it...it was with...our people."

"You don't like to help the humans, then?"

"I do, if I have the chance then...sure," Renata nodded, but it was easy to tell that she wasn't all that into the idea. "But in the end...they're just humans to me. For so long they were only a means to hide myself from the rest of our kind. I miss helping my kind, you know? People I can share my ideas with, my perspectives, my everything. People that would understand me."

The Doctor tilted his head, a faint smile writing itself across his lips. "Renee, what did you used to do back on Gallifrey?"

The question set Renata into nervous state. "U-uh...l-like my...my job?"

"Yeah," the Doctor didn't catch any of her nervousness, too curious imagining her in different positions. "Cos you're all uptight and-"

"Hey," Renata pointed at him but he went on.

"-strict on rules so...I would think of you as one of the teachers at the academy."

Renata blinked, for a moment in disbelief. "You think I was a teacher?"

"Well," he straightened up. "Were you?"

"No," Renata shook her head. "I wasn't."

"Then, what were you?"

Renata stared at him for a minute, the ongoing battle within her taking a bit more than she thought. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about telling the Doctor more about herself - in fact, she already had. Bits and pieces had been exchanged between the two about their past lives on Gallifrey but Renata was always careful not to disclose too much about herself that would risk her identity with the Doctor.

"I...was…" her eyes flickered to the side, "...I worked at a foundation."

Technically, she wasn't lying.

Those were the rules she set herself for. Loopholes.

"You did?" the Doctor became even more curious.

"Mhm. I worked with all sorts of people in need. Children who weren't quite ready for the academy came for some lessons. People who just needed help, whether emotional or physically but didn't have the resources were always welcomed to stop by," Renata looked into the distant, remembering more and more about her foundation. She missed it so much. She missed her workers, her kids, her friends…

"Renata?" the Doctor gently shook her arm to get her out of her thoughts.

She realized she'd let herself think far too much and released an awkward breath, smiling in a flushed manner. "Sorry," she waved a hand at her face.

"No, it's okay," the Doctor softly said, reaching for her waving hand. He liked seeing her remember their home due to the fact she hadn't disclosed much about herself on Gallifrey. He had made it his mission not to get overexcited and push Renata to tell her stories when she wasn't ready. To say, she hadn't even said whose family she was from. But still, the Doctor was forcing himself to be patient.

"Do you want some dinner?" Renata was the one to pull him out of his thoughts this time. With a warm smile on her face, she took his hand. "It's all set up like usual."

The Doctor smiled, forgetting his investigation from then on till the next morning. Renata made it a custom that they were to have dinner every night like normal people. She made pretty damn good meals.

"C'mon," Renata said quietly, still smiling as the two headed for the corridors.

~ 0 ~

The next day, Renata was not the least bit surprised to have the Doctor practically pounding on her bedroom door shouting for her to wake up because they had to go back to Adipose Industries. Swooshing herself out of bed, she got ready and came out of her room...and then smacked the Doctor on the chest and stalked for the console.

"I hate mornings!" was the only explanation the Doctor got for being hit.

They left the TARDIS in an alleyway close to the Adipose Industries building and once more used the fire exit to gain entrance. The Doctor led the way down the same empty corridor but this time stopped midway and turned to a storage closet.

"What...are you doing?" Renata blinked as he opened the door to the small room.

"We need to hide, c'mon," the Doctor didn't wait around for her to warm to the idea and pushed her inside first. As he sonicked the door shut, Renata raved with her back to him.

"Are you mad!? This is wrong!" her hands waved above her head. "First of all, we're bound to get caught! Second of all, it's just wrong!"

The manner in which Renata had said her last statement made the Doctor turn around questionably. "Why? What's wrong?"

In her moment, Renata whirled around to face him and bumped into him because he was literally standing right in front of her. Her eyes blinked rapidly trying not to overthink it. Meanwhile, the Doctor was still demanding to know why she was so freaked out.

"Renata? Why did you say it like that?" his eyebrows knitted together in the manner they always did when he was confused.

Renata slowly looked up to meet his gaze and soon wished she hadn't. She found that she was vulnerable to his long look no matter how she felt at the moment. It threatened to give her identity up.

"Renata?" the Doctor finally broke through her thoughts which, admittedly, were making her face warm. "Well?"

"...it's just inappropriate…" Renata quietly said, turning away and walking the most she could inside the small room which turned out to be seven small steps.

The Doctor scoffed, giving a sway of his head. "Really? But it's not to live inside a TARDIS with me?" the moment turned sideways with alarmed eyes the Doctor regretted his response. "N-n-n-n-n-no! Forget I said that!" and he rushed up, but because of the small room he nearly rammed into her.

"Doctor! Just stop!" cried the blonde, swatting him away with her hands.

With a big sigh, the Doctor listened and retreated to the door. He took a seat on the floor, back up against the door. He watched Renata look for a spot of her own until she settled for a small box positioned over another.

"Renee…?"

"Hmm?" Renata wearily glanced over to the Doctor, hoping that whatever came out of his mouth would not send them into another round of bickering.

"On Gallifrey...were you part of...high society? Before you married off, of course."

"Why would you think that?"

The Doctor made a gesture at her. "Just...just the way you act...the way you think. It has all the...makings of a high class Time Lady."

Renata looked down, her fingers fiddling with each other. "And you hate that," she recalled from oh-so-long ago.

The Doctor wasn't about to lie and say he was best friends with that part of their people. "I mean, they weren't particularly the best people for me to spend time with."

"So then why do you tolerate me and my...uptightness?" came Renata's honest question. She knew she was not the ideal companion and she doubted she ever would be.

A warm smile spread across the Doctor's face. "Because I like you of course - you and everything I know about you so far. You're not like the others of your class and I'm happy. Otherwise it would have been a real shame for such a pretty woman with big hearts to go to waste."

Renata's face softened. "Doctor…"

"You working at a foundation just proves it," the Doctor shrugged. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask.. " he cleared his throat, suddenly nervous, "The foundation...did it...did it happen to be…the Auxilium Foundation?" It was like Renata's whole world just stopped. The Doctor was too delved into his own memories to notice it. "There was only a couple foundations and...and you seem the sort to want to help Gallifreyans despite what Time Lord society thought. Was it?"

Renata couldn't bring herself to lie more, at least not in that moment. It was too many memories, too many fond memories she couldn't get rid of. "Yeah…" she passed a hand down her hair, secretly shooting him a glance. "How do you know about it?"

The Doctor released a breath, a dreamy one actually that sped up Renata's hearts in the second."Oh, I, um...I knew someone there…"

"You need to see it, Zuriah. I bet the pictures don't do Earth justice!"

Zuriah laughed softly while the Doctor rambled onto her about what he'd learned of Earth that morning. She shook her head at him and moved on around the empty tables, soon to be filled up with their daily visitors, to set up some of the materials. "Now I know why you probably failed some of your coursework in the Academy. Did you ever stop talking in those classes?"

The Doctor sent an unamused glare her way. "I'll have you know I have my moments of silence."

The scoff Zuriah gave in return was one of clear disbelief. "Just help me out here, please?" she motioned with her hands to the mess of toys on the ground. "Some new recruiters' kids found my stash of toys and didn't exactly learn the rule of 'put it away'."

The Doctor rolled his eyes but got up to help. "So, do you think you could somehow incorporate this planet in your activities?"

Zuriah waved him off. "I don't know. We haven't done the schedule for next week. Perhaps..."

"Oh c'mon! You know you'd love to!" the Doctor hurriedly threw some toys into the bin she'd set up. He followed her around the tables, rambling on about the benefits her people would get if she incorporated Earth into activities.

"Look, Doctor, maybe we could - AH!" she had stepped on a toy and slipped backwards. Her basket went flying in the air along with the materials. She herself would've fallen to the floor if the Doctor hadn't caught her.

"Hm, didn't take you for the klutz," the Doctor smirked at her. Zuriah looked up, her face flushed when she realized their closeness. The Doctor felt it too, but he didn't think about telling her of it. Although he did take notice of how many freckles were over Zuriah's face...they were lovely...

Renata was utterly stunned to see such a soft look on the Doctor's face. He was clearly remembering something...

"Zuriah, that was the, uh..." the Doctor shook his head out of the memory but no matter how much he tried, the freckled-face ginger still smiled at him. It'd been so long since he thought about her...

~0~

After a full day passed, the Doctor finally declared it was time to leave and investigate. Since they had fallen into bits and pieces of conversation after the foundation topic, Renata was itching to get out of there. She was afraid that the Doctor would begin to ask questions about 'Zuriah' which was her before she picked her graduating name.

You can't hide it forever, Renata. The same sentence passed her mind over and over but somehow she still couldn't act.

"Where exactly are we headed now?" Renata inquired once they were striding down the dark corridors.

"Up to the office of course," the Doctor flashed a smile that warned it wasn't technically literal.

Renata would have questioned further had it not been for him pulling her into a hasty walk. They found the staircase and went up...and up...and up…

Of course he meant the roof. Renata actually blamed herself for not seeing this earlier.

The Doctor went straight for the edge and sonicked the cables holding…

"What are you doing?" Renata slowly approached the edge, eyes glued onto the Doctor who was in the process climbing into a window cleaner's cradle.

"Getting a look at the office, what else?" the Doctor shrugged then motioned with a hand for her to join him. Instantly, Renata incredulously blinked. "Don't give me that look! C'mon!"

Nervously, Renata inched closer to the edge and took one look down to the high view. "Um...is this a bad time to tell you...I have a fear of heights…"

"Not surprised," the Doctor said. He then reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling her slowly. "But for another time!"

"Doctor…" Renata struggled to let the Doctor bring her into the window's cradle.

"In you go," the Doctor slipped his other arm around her waist to get her into the cradle.

As soon as Renata felt the cradle wiggling a bit she gasped and latched onto the Doctor for dear life. "We're going to die! We're going to die! We're going to die!" she cried with eyes shut.

There was a fierce determination in the Doctor not to laugh. But he was still thankful that she couldn't see his face right now.

"This is it! This is where you finally kill me!" and because the Doctor didn't know who Renata was, he thought she was just talking about their short time together...when in reality Renata was remembering all the adventures their younger selves took because of him.

"Calm down, it's not moving," the Doctor peeled her off him and aimed the sonic at the controls. Renata gasped again when the cradle descended. "And duck!" he ordered when they were nearing Miss Foster's office.

"You're gonna get us caught," Renata whispered.

The Doctor ignored her and poked his head just slightly above the cradle to peer into the office. He saw a young dark-skinned woman being tied to a chair by body guards while Miss Foster watched. Unknowingly, an old friend was also watching from the other side of the office, right in front of its door.

"What's going on?" Renata curiously asked, still not taking the risk by peering herself.

"Can't hear much," the Doctor mumbled. He could see Miss Foster showing her prisoner a capsule.

"Well, it is a window-"

"Donna!?"

Renata made a face and looked up to find the Doctor, stunned, staring ahead. "What? What is it?"

'Donna?' she watched the Doctor mouth.

What she didn't know was that across the office stood the Doctor's old friend, Donna Noble who was also stunned to see him there.

"DOCTOR!' she excitedly mimed back, her face right in front of the door's porthole.

'But... what? Wha... What?!'

Renata tried following along but the Doctor was just opening and closing his mouth to her.

'OH MY GOD!' Donna continued miming happily.

'But... how?'

'It's me!' Donna pointed her thumbs at herself, as if the Doctor hadn't yet made the connection it was in fact her.

'Well, I can see that!' the Doctor gestured his eyes then pointed at Donna. Beside him, Renata was still hopelessly lost. She was not risking herself to see who it was.

'Oh this is brilliant!' Donna would have laughed if she could.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was perturbed. 'But what are you doing there?'

'I was looking for you!' Donna pointed at him.

'What for?!'

Now Donna, being Donna, did her best to mimic what she was saying which went along the lines of…

'I, came here, trouble, read about it, internet, I thought, trouble = you! And this place is weird! Pills! So I hid. Back there. Crept along. Heard this lot. Looked. You! Cos they…' But when she happened to jerk a thumb to her right she found that Miss Foster, along with the tied-up woman and her body guards, were staring at her.

The Doctor too had caught it.

"Are we interrupting you?" MIss Foster loudly, sarcastically called to Donna.

'Run!' the Doctor urgently mimed for Donna then aimed the sonic ahead to lock the door of the office and give Donna time to run. Without notice, he waved the sonic above and pulled the cradle above.

"DOCTOR!" Renata nearly cried when the cradle shot up.

"Sorry! Sorry!" the Doctor hopped out of the cradle fast and turned to help her out.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on!? Besides probably getting caught - like I told you!"

"Old friend of mine-" the Doctor grunted as he pulled her out, "-in a bit of trouble! Hurry!"

They ran back for the door that laid the staircase. Despite Renata asking questions of who this 'friend' was the Doctor didn't answer many as he was focused on helping Donna out before she was hurt. They came down another set of staircase where they bumped into a redhead. Donna had encased the Doctor in a big hug, ecstatic with finding him. Renata's eyes just flickered from one to the next.

"Oh my God! I don't believe it!" Donna laughed but suddenly stopped to give the Doctor a look over. "You've even got the same suit! Don't you ever change?" The Doctor sarcastically rolled his eyes. "Yeah thanks Donna, not right now."

"Well…" Donna finally noticed that the Doctor was not alone. "Hey-" but that was all she could say to Renata before the Doctor saw the guards and pulled them both up the stairs.

"Doctor! There are guards!" Renata had looked below to see several guards coming after them.

"Yes, I've noticed!"

Donna was too cheery to be affected by the guards coming for them. As they made it back to the roof she explained the events that led her to the building. "Cos I thought, how do I find the Doctor? And then I just thought, look for trouble and then he'll turn up! So I looked everywhere, you name it - UFOs, sightings, crop circles, sea monsters. I looked, I found them all…"

During this, the Doctor had started working on the cradle controls with his sonic. Renata had half a mind to scold him for even thinking about using the damn thing! But she was quick to discover Donna had a rambling mouth much like the Doctor.

"...like that stuff about the bees disappearing, I thought, I bet he's connected. Cos the thing is, Doctor, I believe it all now. You opened my eyes. All those amazing things out there, I believe them all. Well, apart from that replica of the Titanic flying over Buckingham Palace on Christmas Day, I mean that's gotta be a hoax!"

"What d'you mean the bees are disappearing?" the Doctor picked the sentence up by random.

"I don't know. That's what it says on the internet!"

"Doctor!" Renata helplessly watched the Doctor get back into the cradle, and was even more astonished to see Donna so easily getting in as well. "Aren't you even going to question why you're getting in?" she demanded from the ginger.

"I figure it was to escape?" Donna glanced at the Doctor but quickly looked back to Renata. "I'm sorry, what's your n-"

"Renata, get in!" the Doctor urgently said.

"What for!?" Renata argued. "They'll just bring us up again! I'm not here to go up and down like a stupid amusement park ride!"

"No no no, cos I've locked the controls with a sonic cage. I'm the only one who can control it," he promised. "Not unless she's got a sonic device of her own. Which is very unlikely."

The door burst open again and out came Miss Foster.

"RENATA!"

Flinching, Renata clambered into the window cradle. Soon as she was in, the Doctor made it go down.

"How are we getting out!?" the blonde held onto the railing as they went down and down, but suddenly they started going dangerously FAST faster.

The Doctor managed to stop it with the sonic but the force knocked all three down for a moment. Being the first one to get up, he aimed the sonic at the window. Up above, Miss Foster ordered to the building to be deadlocked.

The Doctor retracted the sonic. "Can't get it open!"

"Well, smash it then!" Donna had grabbed a large spanner from the floor and used all her might to shatter the window.

Renata helplessly looked from Donna to the Doctor, wondering how much worse it could get. Her answer came in the form of sparks and smoke from the cradle. "She's cutting the cable!" she shrieked after looking up and seeing Miss Foster aiming some sort of laser pen at the cables. At her words the Doctor and Donna instinctively grabbed on but Renata hadn't had the time and so when the cable broke and the cradle lurched to the side, she was flung back screaming.

"RENATA!" the Doctor wanted to go in after her but calmed after seeing her feet dangling under them.

She'd manage to get ahold of the broken cable and was currently, and dangerously, swaying back and forth. "DOCTOR!"

"Hold on!" the Doctor tried reaching for the cable sustaining her to pull her back up but he just couldn't.

"Doctor!" went Donna this time who was staring up, seeing Miss Foster about to break the last cable.

Angrily, the Doctor aimed the sonic above just at the right moment to make it spark and fall out of the woman's hand. He caught the second sonic and climbed up the cable to another window. He managed to get it open and ordered Donna to follow him.

"I'm not gonna fall am I!?" Donna asked for the blonde below who was crying out in terror.

"Get in! Get in!" the Doctor didn't want to waste time answering obvious questions. His hearts was racing unbelievably fast as he thought of Renata so close to danger (and because of him).

Meanwhile, Renata was crying out to be helped. Her eyes were stinging with tears and from the hard wind hitting her from every direction. She was sure her hands were slipping from the cable and that at any moment she would fall and splat on the ground like the television showed.

Oh God I was wrong - this is how he finally kills me! And yet Renata felt not an ounce of anger with the Doctor. It was just so like him to get near danger, like a taunt, and then get away from it like nothing. It was actually one of the things that attracted her after getting to know his ways. Her hearts pounded like never before yet it was not a new sensation for her.

"AH!" she screamed all over again when she felt hands on her ankles. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

"Renata, it's me!" the Doctor managed to cut through her screams. "I've got you! Stop kicking!" He slowly pulled her down and into the office he and Donna coordinated would be the room of the next window down. "There we go! I've got you!"

"Oh my God! I thought I was going to die!" Renata clung to him with teary eyes. "Oh you stupid, stupid man!"

The Doctor soothed her with a hand on her back and regretted he couldn't do more at that moment on account of still being on the run from Miss Foster. "We have to go, I'm sorry," he pulled away and felt a pang of guilt seeing her tear-stained face.

He took her and Donna out of the room but not before untying the journalist in the office and telling her to go home. They only made it to the call center because Miss Foster and her guards were already waiting for them.

"Well then," Miss Foster pulled off her glasses and raised her head at the trio, "at last."

"Hello," Donna nervously laughed, the thrill of the chase still clouding bits of her.

The Doctor was just the Doctor who said 'hello' to everyone. "Nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor."

"And I'm Donna!"

Renata crossed her arms, deciding the Foster didn't need her name.

"Partners in crime," Foster concluded, eyeing Renata who seemed to falter every now and then from her brave stance. "And evidently off-worlders, judging by your sonic technology."

"Oh yes, I've still got your sonic pen. Nice, I like it," the Doctor raised the sonic pen to give another look. "Sleek, it's kinda sleek." He let Renata and Donna give it a glance as well, but Renata lowered it down.

"I don't think it should matter the form of the thing that nearly killed me."

The Doctor winced and retracted the pen from Renata. "Now-" he looked at Foster, " if you were to sign your real name that would be...?"

"Matron Cofelia of the Five-Straighten Classabindi Nursery Fleet. Intergalactic Class."

"A wet nurse?" Renata gawked for a second. "What...and you're using humans as surrogates?"

Foster gave a curt nod. "I've been employed by the Adiposian First Family to foster a new generation after their breeding planet was lost."

"But who gave you the right to use humans as cows for your reproduction methods!? It's against Shadow Proclamation rules!"

Beside Renata, the Doctor silently laughed that she would ignore a planet being lost because of 'rules'. "How do you mean lose a planet?"

"Oh, politics are none of my concern. I'm just here to take care of the children on behalf of the parents," Foster made a gesture, shrugging her shoulders.

"What, like an outer space super-nanny?" Donna crinkled her nose.

"Yes, if you like."

"So... so those little things they're, they're made out of fat yeah, but that woman, Stacy Campbell, there was nothing left of her." Donna still couldn't shake off that horrible feeling of seeing a nice woman like Stacey disappear into little white blobs of...fat?

"Oh, in a crisis the Adipose can convert bone and hair and internal organs. Makes them a little bit sick, poor things."

"What about poor Stacey!?" Donna incredulously returned.

"Enough," Renata's sharp edged voice cut through the womens' conversation, and the hand she had for Donna was, frankly, irritating the ginger. "Seeding a level 5 planet is against galactic law - you should know that!" she said to Foster who merely raised her eyebrows.

"Are you threatening me?"

The Doctor then put an arm in front of Renata. "We're trying to help you, Matron. This is your one chance; cos if you don't call this off, then we'll have to stop you."

Foster smirked. "I hardly think you can stop bullets." And just as she said it, her guards flanking her took aim.

Alarmed, Renata stepped back.

"No, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, one more thing, before... dying…" the Doctor settled for the blunt word. "Do you know what happens if you hold two identical sonic devices against each other?" he once again gestured to his sonic and Foster's sonic pen.

"...no?" Foster doubtfully answered.

"Nor me, lets find out!" the Doctor happily pointed both sonic objects at each other, activating them at the same time. A high-screeching rang in the room, causing everyone to squirm uncomfortably and a glass pane behind to shatter.

"Come on!" Donna was the one to pull both aliens out of there.

In the process, the Doctor took the lead and ran them down an empty corridor, stopping by a door of a cupboard.

"No more cupboards!" Renata nearly pleaded. Small spaces meant more talking and more talking meant more chances to risk her identity.

"Not quite," the Doctor opened the door and started throwing out the storage's supplies.

"You can't just throw those things out!" Renata said, scandalized as he created a wad of mess on the floor. "Those are some employee's utensils!"

"Another time, Renata!" the Doctor rolled his eyes, this time a smidge of honest annoyance for her lack of priorities.

"Renata?" Donna repeated the name, looking a bit confused as she studied Renata head to toe. "So you're not Rose, then?"

Recalling the name, Renata scowled. "No I am not! Why would you think that?"

"Dunno…" Donna shrugged, "...blonde...and stuff."

"I'm not her," Renata's eyes briefly glanced at the Doctor and saw him working. There was glowing green machinery built into the wall.

"Well, I'm Donna Noble by the way," the ginger held a hand to Renata, realizing that they hadn't been introduced properly.

"Renata," Renata shook Donna's hand. She looked over at the green panel and frowned. "Okay, what's this for?"

"It's the inducer. For the Adipose. It's wired up the whole building...I...I'll need some time," the Doctor paused, running a hand through his big hair.

"Then get to it," Renata made a motion. "I'm not sure if I can distract but...but I can certainly try." The Doctor made a face at the prospect of that idea. "I can to you know," the blonde insisted now more than ever.

"Okay."

Renata bubbled with instant anger. "Listen to me you idiot," she began sharply, "I nearly fell off a window's cradle because of you!"

"Which I will make up for later, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Renata's voice cracked and she took it a sign to calm down. With a sigh, she put a hand on her forehead and took a moment for herself. "Sorry," she said a minute later, truthfully.

"I get it, I do," the Doctor didn't stop his work but gave her an honest face. "You're making an effort and I do see it and appreciate it." Renata lowered her hand from her face and smiled.

Donna silently studied the two aliens in front of her, a bit curious of what they were and just who was Renata overall. Renata crossed gazes with her and realized she had yet to ask something important.

"How do you two know each other?" her finger pointed from Donna to the Doctor.

"I met him on my wedding day - the big starship in the sky at Christmas?" Donna waited for Renata to remember. "That was us."

Renata blinked as something donned. "It was you who drained the Thames!" she turned on the Doctor with an accusing finger. The Master had never clarified the happenings of that evening, but then again she wasn't exactly in the mood to be talking to the Master during that period.

"It was such a crazy day," Donna continued. "In the beginning, I thought he kidnapped me actually," Donna had a small laugh.

"You too!?" Renata incredulously asked of the Doctor. "What, did you throw her over your shoulders too?"

"No, I didn't!" the Doctor defensively said.

Renata huffed. "Well, that's unfair."

"What do you mean?" Donna fit in the pieces together quick. "Did he do that to you?" Renata nodded and gestured being thrown over a shoulder. "Doctor," a great smirk took over Donna's face as her eyes landed on the Doctor, "I didn't know you were that sort of man."

The Doctor looked mortified at her assumption. Renata face palmed. "I meant a thief!" she exclaimed.

"I was not a thief!" the Doctor stopped for a minute to argue. "You-" he pointed a finger at her, "-were being stubborn!"

Renata's eyes blinked rapidly and her mouth parted slightly. "M-me? You're saying it was my fault? What part of 'you threw me over your shoulder and brought me into the TARDIS' did you forget about?" The Doctor said no more but his scrunched face said the words alright.

Donna burst into laughter, making the argument stop. "I'm sorry, but...what?" she couldn't believe what she was hearing honestly. The Doctor had actually slung the poor woman over his shoulder and forced her into the TARDIS? No, hold on, the woman had to be forced in the first place? Who wouldn't want to travel the stars!?

Grumbling, the Doctor returned to work.

"It's really not that funny," Renata crossed her arms and muttered. "Least Martha didn't laugh."

"Martha?" Donna repeated. "Was that a friend at the time?"

"Yeah. My only human friend who I still keep in contact with," Renata thoughtfully said, since Joan was dead and she had left the family in 1959.

"Is she here? In the TARDIS?"

"No," the Doctor said then. "She was brilliant... but... I destroyed half her life."

Renata's annoyance was gone the moment she saw his guilt-ridden face. "You did not," she softly said then looked at the surprised Donna. "Martha decided it was time for her to go back home. But she's fine. She's good."

"Oh," Donna nodded then thought for another moment. "What about Rose?"

"Still lost," the Doctor mumbled, missing Renata purposely looking away. He had yet to tell her anything of Rose and he frankly didn't know when. He actually thought that perhaps Renata would be scandalized to know he had developed an attachment to a human. He was, for a lack of a better word, scared of her reaction.

Renata, on the other hand, thought his lack of explanation arose from the fact she wasn't trusted enough, and that perhaps he didn't see her as a friend at all. By this point, she knew who Rose was. The Master had taken joy rubbing it in her face that the Doctor had exchanged her for a human.

"I thought you were going to travel the world?" the Doctor suddenly remembered it was Donna's grand plan after her failed marriage.

The cheery face on Donna was quick to fade away. "Easier said then done. It's like I had that one day with you and I was gonna change. I was gonna do so much. Then I woke up next morning, same old life. It's like you were never there. And I tried. I did try, I went to Egypt. I was gonna go barefoot and everything. And then it's all bus trips and guidebooks and don't drink the water and two weeks later you're back home. It's nothing like being with you. I must have been mad turning down that offer."

"What offer?" the Doctor failed to recall.

"To come with you." But now Donna was a bit nervous that since Renata seemed to be on board maybe the Doctor was good on companions.

"You didn't want to go into the TARDIS at first?" Renata was a smidge more impressed with the woman. Usually, every human jumped at the chance to get into the TARDIS.

"I didn't understand," Donna tried to explain herself. "I was...I was all emotional...and-and...just…"

Renata swayed her head till she met the Doctor. "I mean...I wouldn't mind, honestly."

The Doctor was surprised to hear such easy acceptance from her. "Really?"

"Yeah, maybe we would bicker less," Renata recalled that was her excuse for when Astrid Peth had asked to come with them. It was true, as much as she loved the Doctor - and boy did she - there were moments where she just needed a break...or at least someone to stop her from strangling him. She was sure that the feeling was mutual.

"Oh yes!" Donna cheered.

'Inducer activated.'

Renata peered into the cupboard to see the green machinery. "What's it doing now?"

"She's started the program," the Doctor groaned.

'Inducer transmitting.'

"And...what does that mean?" Renata now stared wide-eyed at the machinery.

"Up to now the customers have only been losing weight but the Matron has gone up to emergency pathogenesis."

"Oh no." Renata glanced at the end of the corridor where they could see doors. She was sure that outside swarms of little Adipose were going to be gathering real soon pathogenesis.

"That's when they convert…" Donna, too, remembered.

"But that's skeletons, organs, everything!" Renata exclaimed. "A million people are gonna die!"

"Gotta cancel the signal!" the Doctor took out the golden capsule they'd gotten the previous day and pulled one of its end to reveal a chip inside. "This contains the primary signal. If I can switch it off the fat goes back to being just fat." He hooked up the capsule to the machine hoping to God he was right.

'Inducer increasing.'

The Doctor panicked. "No no no no no, she's doubled it, I need... Haven't got time! It's too far, I can't override it! They're all gonna die!"

"Can we do anything?" Renata asked, Donna nodding her head in agreement.

"Sorry, this is way beyond you - and I mean no disrespect but I have to double the base pulse, I can't…"

"Doctor, tell us what do you need," Donna sternly cut him off. Rambling was no good to anyone.

"I need a second capsule to boost the override, but I've only got the one. I can't save them!"

Donna blinked, remembering something very important. She reached inside her pocket to take out a second gold capsule. Renata laughed when the Doctor froze in shock.

"Here!" Donna waved it in front of his face till he snapped out of his stupor. He nabbed it and hooked it into the green machinery, making all its lights shut down.

A couple seconds, a loud horn filled the place.

"What the hell was that?" Donna frantically looked around.

"I suppose it would be...the nursery ship," Renata said.

"But when you say nursery you don't mean a creche in Notting Hill?"

"Nursery ship," Renata repeated.

'Incoming signal.' the machinery had come back to life for a minute and began with a voice that spoke a different language.

"Hadn't we better go and stop them?" Donna made a gesture for them to leave.

"Hang on, instructions from the Adiposian First Family," the Doctor put a finger on his lips to listen in. "She's wired up the tower block to convert it into a levitation post!"

"But now she's the one in trouble," Renata said soon after she heard.

The Doctor didn't waste a chance and hurried back for the roof. Renata and Donna ran after him. When they got up all they saw were blue beams levitating thousands of Adipose babies into the large nursery ship in the sky.

Most of them were smiling and waving at the trio.

"What you gonna do then? Blow them up?" Donna curiously asked the Doctor beside her.

"They're just children," the Doctor made a face for a brief moment. "They can't help where they come from." Besides, something told him that if anyone threatened those children they would come across a raging Time Lady. God help those fools.

"Doctor, there she is!" Renata called as soon as she spotted Foster coming up in one of the blue beams.

The Doctor ran up to the edge with Donna. "Matron Cofelia, listen to me!"

Foster stopped right at their lever. "Oh, I don't think so, Doctor. And if I never see you again, it will be too soon."

"Oh, why does no one ever listen? I'm trying to help! Just get across to the roof. Can you shift the levitation beam?"

"What, so that you can arrest me?" Foster's eyes briefly flickered to Renata.

"No, you're going to want to listen," Renata promised. "Because the families you worked for know that it was a crime to breed on Earth. So what's the one thing they want to get rid of? Their accomplice!"

"I'm far more than that. I'm nanny to all these children."

"Exactly!" the Doctor frantically waved a hand. "Mum and Dad have got the kids now, they don't need the nanny anymore!"

And just then, the blue beam sustaining Foster disappeared and she fell all the way down screaming. Donna hid her face in the Doctor's shoulder and Renata covered her mouth.

Sometime later, when the police arrived to the site, the Doctor and Renata, along with Donna, exited the building. The Doctor chucked the sonic pen into the nearest trash bin.

"Oi, you three!" the journalist the Doctor had thought followed his instructions to go home was coming up to them...tied to a chair again.

"Didn't you let her go?" Renata whispered to the Doctor, blinking rapidly.

"I did," the Doctor defensively replied.

"You're just mad. Do you hear me?" the journalist cried. "Mad! And I'm gonna report you... for madness!"

Donna silently watched the woman leave, barely able to hold her laugh back as she said, "You see, some people just can't take it."

"No," agreed the Doctor.

"But some people can. So, then - TARDIS!" she excitedly said and grabbed the two aliens by the arms, pulling them away.

They headed back to the alleyway where the TARDIS had been left...and apparently Donna's car as well.

"That's my car! That is like destiny!" Donna laughed. "And I've been ready for this." She rushed up to the car's trunk and opened it to reveal a series of suitcases. I packed ages ago, just in case. Cos I thought, hot weather, cold weather, no weather…" she pulled out the top luggage and loaded them into the arms of the Doctor, who was too stunned to say a word at the moment. "...he goes anywhere, I've gotta be prepared." She then loaded more into Renata's arms.

"You've got a... a... hatbox?!" the Doctor found his words after Donna loaded him with one last box.

"Planet of the Hats, I'm ready!" Donna declared and shut the trunk of her car, excitedly heading for the TARDIS. "Do I need injections though, do I? Like when you go to Cambodia, is there any of that? Cos my friend Veena went to Bahrain, and-"

Renata suddenly began to laugh hard, making Donna stop just outside the TARDIS doors. Even the Doctor was oddly staring down at the Time Lady. Donna eyebrows furrowed together, thinking Renata was laughing at her.

"Oi! What's so funny!?"

"This!" Renata motioned with her arms to the luggage and then the situation in general. "You're so funny! I love you!"

The Doctor gaped. "Wow…" he had never seen such a reaction from Renata, so lively and happy…

Renata walked up to the TARDIS, sobering slowly from her laugh. "I like you, I do. Doctor, can we take her?"

"I'm not a dog," Donna made a face. But it did feel better to know Renata wouldn't mind if she came along with them.

"It's really fine with me," the Doctor admitted, staying right where he was. "It's just...it's a funny old life, in the TARDIS."

Donna knew that sort of tone well. It came when one was fired or the casualness from her mother. "You don't want me."

"I'm not saying that-"

"But you asked me," Donna frowned, glancing at Renata for some help.

"Doctor, it really is okay with me," Renata shrugged. "It's your TARDIS. You can bring whoever you want." She wished he would make up his mind faster because Donna's luggage was getting heavier by the second.

"I wouldn't mind either. In fact, I would love it," the Doctor clarified, letting the luggage in his arm drop to the floor. "It's just...the last time, with Martha, it... it got complicated. And that was all my fault. I would want nothing more than a mate-"

"You just want to mate?" Renata blinked, eyes impossibly wide. Beside her, Donna was losing it believing in what Renata heard.

"You're not mating with me, sunshine!" Donna shouted.

The Doctor had a hard time keeping up with both women who'd heard horribly wrong. "Renata! I didn't say that-"

But Renata was trying to control herself after her first outburst. "No, no, that's fine. What you want to do in your TARDIS is your business-"

"What - no!" the Doctor once more tried to cut in but then came Donna.

"He better find someone else cos I'm not into that sort of alien thing, no sir!"

"STOP!" the Doctor finally cut over both of them. "I said a mate! Nothing more!" he frantically waved his hands.

"...oh," Renata looked away, embarrassed yet relieved.

The same applied to Donna. "Well just as well, because I'm not having any of that nonsense. I mean you're just a long streak of... nothing," she motioned to the Doctor who took it with an unamused face. "You know, alien nothing." She then passed a casual glance at Renata and shrugged. "You could probably find yourself someone quick. Kind of curvy."

Renata laughed.

"There we are, then. OK," the Doctor was glad to have things clarified and corrected.

"I can come?" Donna anxiously asked.

"Yeah. Course you can, yeah."

"I'd love it!"

"Great," Renata pushed the TARDIS door open to begin bringing Donna's things.

"Car keys!" Donna suddenly remembered, gasping.

"What?"

"I've still got my mum's car keys! I won't be a minute!" she held a finger to them and ran away.

Renata started to laugh again as she returned. She stopped at the doorway and smiled. "I think I'm gonna like her. She's so...spunky."

"Yeah, she is," the Doctor agreed and left his part of luggage inside.

"And you know," Renata stopped him just outside after he came out, "It really is your TARDIS - even though you stole that too," she mumbled and the Doctor rolled his eyes, "So you can bring anyone in without having to consult me. And...do whatever you want inside."

"Yeah…" the Doctor sucked in a large breath, "...no thanks."

Renata couldn't help the stupid smile that quickly set on her face. She forced it away as best as possible. "I-I mean...it's it's your choice…"

"Renee," the Doctor tilted his head, close to laughing at the subject they were somehow talking about again.

"I'm only saying! I respect rules and...and in here-" Renata gestured to the inside of the TARDIS, "-they're whatever you want-"

"Renee! C'mon," the Doctor laughed. "None of that please. We should focus on the fact we're having a new guest in the TARDIS who I am sure is going to love your dinners."

Renata smiled. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah! Who wouldn't?" the Doctor reached for her hand and brought her inside the TARDIS.

A couple minutes later, Donna came rushing in, happy than ever. "Off we go, then!"

"Here it is, the TARDIS. It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside…"

"Oh, I know that bit," Donna interrupted the Doctor's favorite bit. "Although frankly, you could turn the heat up."

"So, whole wide universe, where do you want to go?"

"Oh, I know exactly the place," Donna smiled widely with just one spot in her mind. "Two and a half miles, that way!" she jerked a thumb to her left.

Although confused, the Doctor and Renata obeyed. It became clear where they were headed when they saw a street lined with similar houses. Donna hurried to the doors, to get them opened. It was almost an instant when she saw her grandfather looking up into the sky through his prized telescope. She waved ecstatically below. Renata and the Doctor waved from behind, although neither was sure if the grandfather would see them. Still, it didn't hurt to be nice.

Afterwards, when all was calm, Renata started for the corridors. "I'm just going to get dinner started. Donna, allergic to anything?"

"N-no…" replied the finger, fairly confused. "Though if it's alien meals then I wouldn't know would I…?"

Renata chuckled. "Fair enough." She disappeared soon after.

Curious, Donna looked to the Doctor who seemed quite at home. "Uh...since when do you do dinners? Last time I asked you disappeared into the night."

The Doctor smiled and looked up from the console after setting them in the time vortex for a peaceful night. "Oh that's just Renata. She does that every night. Sort of our tradition actually."

"Sorry, I never asked...are you and her…?" Donna gave a meaningful tilt of her head.

"No!" the Doctor quickly clarified before word made it to Renata. "No, we're not! Actually," he moved around the console, "Renata is one of my people. She's a Time Lady. Last one."

Donna didn't know what happened to the Doctor's home but she assumed it was not good. It was incredibly good to see that the Doctor was not alone anymore.

[cptn-sgrogers]

Square Filled: Writing style no dialogue Y5 Title: While I have the chance (Male Reader) Words: 3,067 Warnings: Mature, Violence, Death, Swearing Tags: Bucky/you Bucky/ Male!reader, no dialogue, Angst Description: Bucky and Y/N are on a mission for SHIELD, they have worked together since they both started retraining at the same time, forming an unbeatable team. Since being liberated from Hydra Bucky hasn’t felt like he can make a move on Y/N as it wouldn’t be fair to drag him into his struggles. This mission proves tougher than first thought and maybe Bucky should have taken the opportunity to tell y/n how he felt when he had the chance. I know it’s supposed to be no dialogue but something had to be said at the end….

Created for @buckybarnesbingo

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cptn_Rogers/works

Four Patrol teams, two watchtowers, a guard station, one armoured vehicle with mounted machine gun turret and watching it all from above two teams of hidden ops, ready to make their move on the compound below. Three years he’d waited for this, Three years of retraining with SHIELD just to exact this little bit of revenge on HYDRA.

The cold earth bit into Bucky’s skin as he lay on the rocky outcrop above enemy territory and he didn’t care about it one bit, surveying the patrols below through the scope of his rifle. Bringing them into focus, making them no longer targets in the distance but people. He could see them as they laughed, could see their superior coming round the corner to scold them even before they could, bent double, it must have been a good joke, but he found no joy in it. Being a sniper was never easy regardless of who the target was, you weren’t shooting blindly into the fray of battle you were watching, waiting, studying your target looking them right in the face as you made the kill shot. The fact that it was now for SHIELD didn’t make it easier. It wasn’t much different than it had been during the war with the Howling commandos, the only difference was that the tech was a lot more savvy, only down side was that it brought you that much closer to those targets below.

A light kick to the sole of his foot drew his attention, shuffling away from the ledge into the shadows he turned to his companion, y/e/c eyes unfocused, hand pushing the listening device into your ear holding it in place other arm raised in the direction of the base small dish angled towards it. Bucky sat watching you as your face scrunched in concentration or confusion it was difficult to tell sometimes. 

He’d known you since he’d been taken to SHIELD, both of you going through basic and advanced training at the same time, although he’d had plenty of previous experience he’d still had to jump through hoops and tick boxes. It became clear then that nothing was going to hold you back, powers or no powers, you were as formidable as the best of them reminding Bucky plenty of times that you didn’t need super serum to knock him on his ass. It hadn't been an instant attraction not that you weren’t an Adonis, a perfect balance between ard and soft in all the right places. He just hadn't been looking until you had planted him onto the training mats; knee on his chest with your other leg extended pinning his metal arm, then he had really looked, the slight sheen of your sweat, panting lightly, a small triumphant smile on your face, not gloating but pleased you’d bested THE Winter Soldier, not really noticing Bucky’s gaze until he had taken a while to concede and you had helped him to his feet a light blush dusting your flushed cheeks, barely noticeable, but Bucky had noticed. Getting to his feet, ego a little bruised not because you were incapable or anything, but because Wilson was watching and he’d never let him live it down, he realised that his heart wasn’t just racing because of you putting him through his paces. From then you’d stuck close through training sparing, drills, exercises and even missions together when Bucky wasn’t off gallivanting with the Avengers. Never really getting the chance to spend much time together outside of work. 

Shouting from the compound below drew Bucky’s attention back to the mission. Not needing to hear the commotion with the listening device you discarded it and motioned for him to follow you towards the ledge. Lying flat you both creeped towards the edge Bucky moving back to the mounted rifle, scanning the scene below. Looking to the other post where the hidden second hidden ops team was supposed to be he watched as one of the mounted patrol units moved in on their position, in combination with a small ground team making its way up the rocky ridge. It was time for them to move and fast, draw their attention away and back to the base, surveillance time was over, it was time to act. 

Taking aim at the goon manning the gun on the armoured vehicle he took a deep breath in, steadied his sight and pulled the trigger, a near silent whistle from the bullet as it shot through the chamber, barely a second later the man’s head was thrown back, slumping over the roof, his head lolling, slowly sliding off of the vehicle, between the weight of his limp body and the upward ascent of the car. Shouts of anguish came from inside the vehicle, drawing the ground team away and towards the commotion, looking round for Bucky’s sniper roost, taking aim on an unsuspecting foot soldier he pulled the trigger, finding his next mark before the first even hit the ground. Two dropped then a third, sending the teams into a panic, the base lit up below sirens blaring, and bodies moving quickly below, now aware of the attack happening, the remaining remnants of the ground team ran to the armoured vehicle, their hunt forgotten as they clung on to the side of the 4X4 tearing its way through the trees back to base. 

Bucky picked off a few of the soldiers hanging onto the truck, thinning them out the best he could, the sound of rubble falling to his left drew his attention away from the sight quickly scanning around to see if anyone had converged on your position, knowing you wouldn’t let anyone get within 50 feet, but wanting to check if someone had maybe slipped through your defences, scanning around he noticed only one thing, you were gone, pushing himself further from the rifle and switching to a weapon that is a little more manoeuvrable,  leopard crawling towards the ledge and peering over, watching as you scrambled to the bottom, looking up only when you noticed his piercing blue gaze, your y/e/c eyes meeting his, throwing him a smile full of competent mischief you signalled for him to return to the sniper rifle and provide cover before running off into the fray, a move you’d both pulled many times before much to the others annoyance, it had become a little bit of a competition between you both to see who could throw themselves into the worst of it first, not wanting to put the other at risk therefore forcing the last one in to hang back and provide covering fire. Your need to protect him was one thing that Bucky admired about you, not your complete disregard of your own safety mind you but the need to stand up and fight for yourself, not allowing anyone to fight the battles for you in part due to a sense of responsibility, a strong sense of morals and complete pig headed stubbornness, much like someone else he knew. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was about him that drew those kind of people to him and why he being the idiot he was couldn’t help but want to protect them too, never able to back down from a fight either if it was for the right reasons, or the right person, and you he had come to realise were both. 

With a small shake of the head he returned to the rifle tracking your decent the best he could, clearing the way for you from afar, the base below beginning to regain some semblance of control as they started to make their way towards your position, shots finally started coming from the other hidden ops unit as bodies began to fall at the back of the mass headed towards you, Buck watched the confusion spread and breaks in formation began to appear as some turned towards the attack from the west side giving him the opportunity to pick of those stuck in between trying to decide which way to go, warring over orders and duty in their heads but that’s all he needed as they stood there out in the open, quickly snipping one, two, three, six personnel down in quick succession before any of them realised they were sitting ducks and scampered off in the direction of whichever side they thought had the best chance of survival. Bucky turned his attention back to those closing in on your position, the brush making the targets a little more challenging as you tore through the thickets on the headland, zigzagging back and forth scattering various deterrent tech, to keep a protective boundary around Bucky, chuckling softly to himself, even in the face of 30+ foes you were taking risks to make sure he was safe first when he couldn’t have been further from the danger.

Hydra started closing in on your position. Through the scope Bucky could see that you’d started preparing yourself for the oncoming attack, suddenly turning back on your heels and racing straight down the remainder of the hill a missile headed directly for the Hydra operative closest to you, the poor guy didn’t even get the chance to react before his form crumpled to the ground your knee in the middle of his chest aiming your silenced gun towards the next target. who fell gracelessly. Tearing through the group like a tornado, it looked as though you’d be able to fight them off single handedly with the occasional support from both snipers nests, however Bucky could hear that the western team were offering less and less support, the shots becoming less frequent. and the outpouring of Hydras goons grew from the base. Never before had he believed their bullshit motto of ‘Cut off one head and two more will grow in its place’ but seeing that black mass coming towards you he fully understood it. 

Y/N

It was beginning to get a bit much even for you. They just kept coming. The Intel you had been fed and gathered was a steaming pile of shit and here you were wading through it. Overwhelmingly outnumbered 4 against at least 200, even with a super soldier on your side your chances were slim to none. But there was nothing that was going to stop you from doing your damnedest to protect Bucky. There wasn’t a specific point in you knowing each other that you could pinpoint as the moment you realised you had feelings for him but you did know the moment when you realised you would happily give your life to protect him. 

~

Things were messy, as they often where when you both were on a mission, both working to out do the other in stupid points, it had become a not so small competition between the both of you to see who could throw themselves into he heart of the fray and come out the other side less bloodied than the other, well this time you had both out done yourselves. 

The tang of blood hung thick in the air, the bodies piled high around you at your feet, you both haddn’t used unnecessary force but work like this was dirty regardless of how just your reasoning behind it was and both of you were standing in the middle of it all panting and grinning like children. Bent double trying to catch your breath, Bucky rested a steadying hand on your shoulder as you both began to chuckle. He was one crazy son of a bitch, looking up at him you caught his eye and realised he was thinking the exact same thing about you.

 Finally you had straightened up looking the Super soldier in the eye, you had been about to express your thanks and ask him out for a drink when his shoulders tensed, eyes flicking to behind your shoulder, without warning he dived for you tackling you to the ground, you heard the bullet whizzing past. Your breath left you in a whoosh as your body headed to the ground. You heard the meaty thunk as the bullet made contact with flesh and you knew it wasn’t you who had been hit. All hope that it had missed both of you vanished when you felt Bucky tense above you, forcing himself to stand and face the attacker, metal arm raised and aiming a pistol at the assailant before you could even catch your breath. It was then that you realised that you didn’t just admire him or have a crush on him, you knew that you would dive in front of a bullet for this man because he would do the same for you.

~

Not having much time to dwell on it as you were met with blow after blow from the unending wave of Hydra, you could hear the steady sound of sniper fire was dwindling, unsure of which side, you just hoped against hope that you had laid down enough deterrent tech that it bought him enough time. Fighting hard not to let your exertion show as you punched, kicked and dodged your way through Hydra operatives, taking a few hits here and there, knowing you were going to have to save your ammo for when they bring out the big guns, because you’d infiltrated enough of them now to know that Hydra always had big guns tucked away somewhere. The ground underneath your feet shook violently, throwing you off balance, the brief lapse in your focus allowing a rogue bullet to tear through your left shoulder, determined not to cry out you grit your teeth and threw a shock magnet at the culprit, throwing the electrical currents way up; knowing that it would do a lot more than just sting. 

This was getting to much one arm almost useless and still no ground help from the other team yet, risking a glance up at the opposite ridge you saw why they were pinned, surrounded, no way in hell were they getting out of that one. Cursing internally you plowed on.

Bucky

The second Bucky saw that shot hit your shoulder he was tearing down the hill. This was a fuck up of monumental scale, under prepared and no back up. why had he been so adamant that the four of you could do it? It will be fine Steve, we’ve got this Steve. It was all his fault he was in charge he should never have agreed to let you come. 

Throwing himself through the remaining shrubs at the base of the hill he planted a solid kick to the centre of the nearest guys chest sending him flying. Where you had been diving and weaving through the enemy Bucky was a bull in a china shop, fighting his way through in a straight line headed directly for you. Batting them away as though they were nothing, and they were he just had to focus on getting to you. Struggling a head, he could see that the panic was beginning to set in, your form getting sloppy and erratic as they kept battering into you like the sea crashes against the cliffs in a storm, unrelenting, chipping away at the cliffs edge slowly making it crumble and you were about to break away entirely.

Pushing through harder and faster he almost made it to your side when you doubled over the air leaving your lungs in a woosh. A roar ripped from his throat as he dove to catch you. Everyone stilled, Both you and Bucky surrounded with nowhere to go. the only sound the heavy breathing from  those surrounding you and the rumble of an engine as it rolled up behind the group. 

Blood was beginning to make its way up into your mouth, a slight pinkish tinge colouring your teeth, as you gasped for breath. He knelt there cradling you as the crowd parted and the two other members of your operation were thrown to the ground next to you both. but he couldn’t look up, didn’t want to look away. Ignoring the droning voice of the commander pacing back and forth in front of the four of you. catching a word or two here or there. Trying not to focus on the growing patch of dark viscous liquid pooling at your stomach. He pressed his hands to the wound, trying to keep you from slipping away. Lifting a bloodied had to his face you caressed his cheek, no strength to say everything you needed and Bucky knew that too, had seen enough war and bloodshed to know when it was too late so he held you close. 

“Longing” Bucky heard in the back of his head as he tried to focus on you.

Ignoring the ramblings of the commander as he stood in front of you both, catching a word here or there both knowing full well what the commander was trying to do, but this moment wasn’t about him or what was going to happen to Bucky. It was about you.

“One” he was nearing the end, you knew what was happening and were powerless to fight it.

Hurriedly Bucky placed a kiss to your lips, you could see the panic in his eyes, the urgency there as he deepened the kiss trying to drag it out longer. 

“Freight car” The smugness in the commander's voice was lost on Bucky as his eyes glazed over, he pulled away no recognition in his gaze.

You cried. Knowing there was no point in saying anything as his arms dropped to his side. 

“Soldat!” the commander's voice boomed.

“Ready to comply” came Bucky’s, no the Soldier’s, monotone reply as he looked up at the man. He wasn’t Bucky anymore.

“Clean up this mess” The commander gestured to the two SHIELD agents next to him.

He slid you off of his lap without a second glance. Pulling a pistol from his holster he stood emotionless as they both pleaded, tried to get him back, to recognise them, to stop, but the pleading ceased when two shots echoed through the valley. 

He froze, looking down at your helpless from, the ground stained red beneath you.

Turning from you he walked through the gathered crowd , disappearing from view as a buzz of excitement began to build from the Hydra operatives surrounding you, they began to dissipate, leaving you to die in the dirt alone.

[soobrat]

ᴋʀʏᴘᴛᴏɴɪᴛᴇ || Bang Chan & Jeong Yunho

masterlist chapter two

𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥,

★ 𝔹𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕪 ★:

death of a loved one

grief

discretion is advised

a  m o n t h  a g o

"Gyuri, what who was that?" Heejin peered over Gyuri's shoulder at her phone.

"I-It was Yunho. It's nothing, don't worry about it.

Heejin rested her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Yeah right, I can hear it in your voice. What happened."

Gyuri went pale. Heejin was an adult now. She should know about these things, right? She was definitely not going to tell her that.

"They... they found a body in the park."

• a day later •

Chan peered over at Yunho who was fidgeting with his hands on the locker room bench. His eyes were trained on seemingly nothing.

"I'm sorry that you had to witness something like that so early in your career."

"That... her life was just starting man! How could someone kill someone so young?! I heard she was accepted into an ivy league school." His eyes were wide, his mind was putting all of the pieces together for the first time.

"God- I don't want to think about this right now." He hands flew to his head, clutching his chocolate locks. He clenched his eyes shut. Chan paced towards him and rested his hand on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't, so maybe stop. It'll make your job a thousand times easier." He patted his shoulder twice before walking towards the exit.

"You're making it sound so easy."

"I told you to prepare yourself for this job, didn't I?" Chan turned to look at Yunho, his elder brother mode turned on. Yunho pushes himself up from his seat.

"But weren't you also the person who told me heinous crimes like that haven't happened around here for almost two decades? And not to worry too much about it? So sorry for being shocked and trying to vent." Yunho plopped back down onto the bench, pulling his uniform shirt fully on.

Chan decided to leave it there. Mostly because he didn't have any rebuttals for that. He wouldn't admit that, though.

"Before I leave, how did Gyuri react? I didn't see her yesterday."

"Great. Another thing I'm stressing about. She completely freaked out. The girl who died reminded her too much of Heejin. It's been really hard because Heejin just turned 18 so she wants her freedom but then that happened. Gyuri is hovering over her constantly and Heejin hates it."

Chan sat there for a moment. That's really unlike Gyuri. Maybe he'd check up on her.

"Just a heads up, I'm dropping by tomorrow."

• tomorrow •

"I'm running a little late but you wanna come with, mom?" Chan buttoned up his shirt as he asked.

"No I'm fine honey-" She was interrupted by her phone ringing.

"Oh look! That's Yunho now!" She picked the phone up eagerly.

"Yunho! H- wait, slow down. Yeah he's right here. What's wrong? Yunho... honey are you crying?"

Chan watched in confusion as his mother's clamped over her mouth.

"Oh god no, please no." Her voice quivered as she dropped the phone.

"My baby! Not my baby!" She slid off the couch, sobbing into her hand.

p r e s e n t  d a y

The houses in the town were so damn cute to you. All quaint and small. Chan's was a bit fancier and bigger, being a hotshot policeman and all.

"Out with it. You're here for something, what is it?"

"My papa's hat. He dropped it at the crime scene like an idiot. He takes a break for a couple years and makes a rookie mistake, what a dumbass. His DNA is all over it. You're gonna help me find it."

"Why me?" Chan looked annoyed, not threatened or frightened in the slightest. This in turn made you annoyed.

"You're real brave, huh detective? Didn't girly tell you about the things I'm capable of?"

"Stop dancing around the subject and answer my question!"

"The answer to your question is the same reason you shouldn't be so smug. You're very valuable to not only your police people but everyone around here. We get you, we get everyone. Also, you've got the most to lose. Just how many people in this neighborhood alone are you close to? Family? Childhood friends?"

Chan couldn't lie, he was feeling a bit more cautious. He couldn't feel scared by you, though. He just felt revolted and a strong hatred for you. The things you've done are unspeakable, and one of the people were close to him. Chan laughed before whipping out his gun.

"You're just as much of a dumbass as your "papa". You follow a policeman into his home and threaten him?" He cocks the pistol, eyes boring into the female.

"Go ahead! Shoot me! Just know if you miss you'll regret it. It'll be messy just like the other two."

Chan was angry but hesitant. He was confident in his aim, but he didn't know how good you were at dodging. Plus you were a good distance away. The noise would rile up the neighborhood. His boss had told him time and time again about how the last thing he wanted was to worry the citizens. That's why he didn't release the eyewitness report (against everyone else's opinion).

So when you reached for your purse, he didn't shoot.

"Look, I have a gun too."

Chan tensed up, keeping his gun aimed at you.

"Don't worry pretty boy," you place the gun on the ground and slide it towards him with your foot.

"No funny business, I swear. I'm not here to do any harm. Just get me the hat and I'll be on my way."

Chan didn't believe you for one second. For now, however, the best thing to do would be to lower the gun. So he did.

His ear began to ring, everything seemed to be going in slow motion as he set the gun on the table. He felt like he made a mistake. Did you best him? Did he let his guard down too easily? He thought so.

He raised the gun back up at you.

"Put both your hands in the air and walk towards me slowly."

You stood there shocked for a brief moment. Your expression melted into a sly grin as you raised up your hands. You did as he said, planting yourself firmly three feet away from him. He rustled through your bag to discover a dart gun and hunting knife.

"Is hunting a crime?" You smirked.

He almost replied with "hunting humans is" but then it reminded him who exactly he was dealing with. The crime scenes flooded back into his mind and he grimaced.

"Come on, nothing? I think that was pretty funny-"

"What was the tranquilizer gun for?" He asked, setting down the knife to pick up the gun. He looked down at it in his hands, turning it, inspecting the weapon.

"...I thought it'd be obvious. You were meant to be in my trunk by tonight, unconscious obviously. I was really betting on your cop-like good will to come through and trust me. They train you better than I thought.”

Rage flooded through Chan's veins as he thought about how cruel and disgusting you were. You noticed how he looked at you.

The proximity was perfect now.

"It's not lethal, geez-"

-Was he needed to hear before pointing the tranquilizer gun at you.

"You don't want to do that."

Chan hated to admit that he enjoyed the panicked look on your face.

"How does it feel, being prey now?"

You didn't get a chance to respond before he pulled the trigger. The dart punctured your neck. You grab the dart and remove it but it's too late. Your legs are weak, vision doubled. You try to get close to Chan but he just backs away, giving you the room you need to fall to the ground.

It was painfully obvious Yunho was concerned.

"Yunho, you're looking at me like that again." Gyuri chuckled, eyes crinkling. She picked at the food on her olive-colored ceramic plate. She didn't want to look at him.

"I don't believe that you're okay. This act you're putting up is only making me and everyone around us worried."

Gyuri looked up at him, he hadn't touched his food either. The yellow light omitting from the aged glass chandelier washed out Yunho's complexion. It made his disapproving look even harder to look at.

"Look, it's been a month now. I love Heejin with all my being-" Gyuri started to get choked up. She tilted her head back, trying to blink her tears away. The tears ended up streaming down her cheeks anyway. She quickly wiped them away before resuming,

"but I'm pretty she nor anyone else would want anyone to dwell on this. I don't like the way my heart aches when I do. Being happy is just so much easier than feeling that way. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Because you're not actually happy. Gyuri, this is not going to be easy. It's going to be a painful, long, excruciating experience." Yunho looked Gyuri dead in her eyes as he attempted to rip off the bandaid.

Gyuri couldn't contain it anymore. She began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Why? I didn't want to think about that goddammit!" She banged her fists on the table, shaking both their plates.

"I feel like I'm gonna die without her! It hurts so bad and I just want it to end!" Gyuri broke down, hiccuping and clenching her fists tightly. Yunho stood from his seat and kneeled next to Gyuri. He rested his hands on her fists.

"It will end on its own. I want you to know that I'll be right there with you every step of the way. We'll get through this together."

Gyuri engulfed him in her arms, sobbing into his shoulder. Yunho held her back tenderly.

He stayed there with her for what felt like an eternity. He didn't feel troubled in anyway, in fact he felt empowered that he had the ability to help her through this.

Her sobs dissipated into lone hiccups here and there.

"Come on. Let's call it a night, baby." He rubbed circles into her back.

[ventoaureorun]

yo fam could you do the dying kisses prompt for my passione boys? I've been lurking on ur blog for the longest time and wanted to let u know that i love ur blog 💝💝

[[ To make things painful and easier for me I wrote it as reader dying and the boys mourning. Tbh if you want the boys dying instead just send me another ask. Also trigger warning this is honestly very depressing. Also it is very long so i put it under the cut, I also got very carried away and now I am very very sad. If you want more feels and set the mood a little, I wrote all this to illion’s Miracle on Spotify.]]

✖ Bruno Buccielati ✖

Burno doesn’t scream when he realises you can’t be saved, he cries, silently he cries so much, there is no sound other than him periodically sucking in air as the tears streak down his face. He would be holding you slowly getting limp in his arms, bending down to make sure he can hear your last words as you bleed out, not caring how red soaked his white outfit gets. The rest of his team doing their best holding out against the enemy to give the two of you time. No one is talking other than you telling Bruno how much you love him over and over again in the fear of death. Bruno replies you telling you how much he loves you too, how proud he is to have someone like you in his life supporting you even now, in your last moments. He silently begs whatever gods he knows of to keep you alive in his arms, he knows its futile but he wishes so badly he could save you so badly that he would wake up from this nightmare. When you ask him for a last kiss he obliges, his endless flow of tears soaking your face as he presses his lips against yours. Your lover gives you another deep kiss as your breathing slows to a stop. Only then did he let out an agonisingly loud sob, his hands balling up into fists so intensely his nails would dig into his palms drawing blood. But there was no time to cry now, the enemy was still nearby, he refused to let himself die before his revenge. Carefully Bruno would carry your body to somewhere safe, telling your dead body to wait for him before wiping his tears and rejoining the battle stronger than ever with his burning resolve for to avenge you.

✖ Pannacotta Fugo ✖

He screams he is angry beyond anything, he would hold you tight in his arms as  Purple Haze went wild before him, literally melting your assailant into nothingness. It was a miracle neither of you were infected with the virus but that joy was short lived as you cough up so much blood. Fugo would let out an agonised cry when he feels you heave in his arms, your blood dripping through the holes in his outfit. Now that the enemy was dead he was filled with pure and utter despair. He always feared his own stand would be the one to hurt you, if he had known you would get hurt by someone other than him he would have gone all out earlier. He sobs holding you telling you how sorry he is that he didn’t protect you. How sorry he is that he let someone else hurt you how sorry he is that you were in this state. When you smile at him telling him that you forgive him he would choke back his tears. As you ask him for a final kiss he instantly presses his lips against yours, his warm body pressed against yours as you slowly go cold against him. As you stop breathing Fugo would slowly lose it, not even using his stand, with his own two hands he would wreck the concrete walls near you. Knuckles bloody as he would finally crumble off some of the wall, only then did he fall to the floor and sob once more. When the rest of the team arrive on scene Fugo was different he was now just as cold as you, an empty shell of whatever emotions he had left taken from him moments before. 

✖ Giorno Giovanna ✖

Gold Experience was doing whatever it could, you looked perfectly fine, your very being looking as perfect as usual but he knew it was too late. The poison of the enemy already deep set in your very being, no matter how many parts he replaces, you wouldn’t survive. Giorno didn’t even realise he was crying until you used what little strength you had to tell him not to cry anymore. Giorno didn’t even realise just how much pain losing you was until you told him again and again that you loved him and you thanked him for being a part of your life until the very end. He thought he understood loss, he thought that being part of the dark mafia world for so long left him a hardened criminal. No, he realised the only reason loss never hurt him this much before was because you were always there to comfort him on his darkest nights. Even now you were doing the same, telling him that he was strong, that he would live for you, that he was the very embodiment of an angel if you could ever see one. Giorno would give you a sad smile, asking you how could he be so amazing when you lay here dying in his own arms. When an even more intense wave of pain coursed through your veins you knew it wasn’t long. Asking him for a final kiss, he would give it to you, it was soft, his lips pressed against yours, you were happy this was your last moment, you smiled into the kiss as the life in you faded. When Mista finally cleared the enemies outside and entered the rival boss’s room, all he saw was just an endless number of flowers surrounding your dead body as Giorno stood beside you, his eyes empty, now truly the cold hardened criminal he thought he was.

✖ Narancia Ghirga ✖

He was at total loss, he couldn’t stop shaking as he clutched you tightly in his arms. It was a duo recon mission, it was supposed to be quick and easy, he even had Aerosmith on alert he just couldn’t understand how an enemy even spotted and shot at you. It took literally everything the two of you had to run away. The adrenaline finally wearing off, you crumble into Narancia’s embrace, you feel his tears drip and fall down your face. He wanted so badly to scream, so so badly, he was biting his lip so hard to hold it back. He couldn’t even let out too loud of a sob, he didn’t want the enemy finding you and actually finishing the two of you off. You’d call out to him, scared but staying strong for your lover. Your voice would pull Narancia out of his panic attack, he didn’t have much time left with you he shouldn’t be freaking out. You would smile, asking him to talk to you to try and keep you awake. Narancia would blabber on, telling you how much he loved you, shaky laughter as he cries and tells you weird facts about your first few dates with him. Wheezing as he tells you how he wanted to marry you and how he was saving up to bring you somewhere the next time you guys had a holiday. As you lost the feeling in your arms and legs you’d tell Narancia to kiss you one last time. He would bite back more tears before telling you to stop joking this wouldn’t be the last time. He knew better however, as he bent down and pressed his lips against yours, holding on tightly to you as you slowly go limp in his arms. Like a flame going out, for Narancia this was the exact point of his life where he realises he would never love anyone like he loved you ever again.

✖ Leone Abbacchio ✖

Rage, despair, the pure regret and self hate exploding through him, his vision was getting blur from the pure trauma of watching someone important to him get shot again. He chose a life of solitude when he joined Passione, it took you months almost years to get him to open up and accept you in his life. He walled himself off because of this very fear, this nightmare of a hellscape just unfolding before his eyes as your body hit the floor. This was so much worse than back when he was a cop, this was so much worse because he knew so badly that this was a possibility and he let that doubt get pushed away only for it to happen again. He couldn’t even hear the rest of the squad told him to stay by your side as they chased the assailant down. You were the light of his life and now your light was flickering on the brink of extinguishing and he literally could do nothing about it. Abbacchio moved automatically, picking you up in his arms as he ran towards backup, uncharastically begging for anyone to save you and tend to you. Even when the mafia’s field surgeon tells him to prepares for the worse he still holds on to you. The pain just dripping from his voice as he begs you not to leave him alone. You would apologise through the pain you knew that this was his fear and you hated it so bad that you could literally feel yourself dying. Asking him for a final kiss, telling him to make it good so he could replay it forever, you tell him over and over how much you love him and telling him to stay strong before his lips pressed hard against yours. When you finally die in his very arms Abbacchio stopped crying. His tear ducts were empty and he was blanking out from the pure mental strain. The only thing keeping him alive is Moody Blue’s taking your form of your last moments.

✖ Guido Mista ✖

He watched it happen to his beloved Capo and he hated how he begged Giorno to save you too. He knew it wouldn’t last he knew your body would give out soon, your wounds no longer healing. So the two of you spent your last days enjoying to the limit, recreating dates laughing and sleeping together at night. Now that all that joy was burnt out all that was left was the depressing reality as Mista held your very cold dead body in his arms. You thank your lover for the past few days, the choice was hard on him but you were glad in the end you could spend your last hours with him. Mista knew, he could see your body slowly failing itself. The two of you sat on a bench in town in the dead of night. The place where the two of you had your first date. Reality slowly kicking in, Mista finally get serious, telling you how much he loves you. Telling you endlessly all the reasons he loves you, thanking you for an almost endless amount of things, from existing in his life teaching him about true love to painfully laughing as he thanks you for teaching him the difference between shampoo and body wash. He would tightly hold your hand in his before running his fingers through your hair as he tries his best to remember every sensation of you. You tell him that he’d never be alone, you promise him how even as a spirit you’d make sure to always look out for him, he turns to you, giving you a pained smile at the comment. As your already blurry vision slowly turns black around the edges, you turn to the love of your life asking him to give you a final kiss before you can’t feel anything anymore. So he did, his arms pull you in, silent tears dab your cheek as he passionately kisses you for the last time. A minute or so passes before you fall limp in his arms. Since then Mista just never really smiled the same anymore.

[what-stop-the-presses-rly-means]

Bye, Bye, Sugar Blue Eyes part 3

Race x female reader modern au.

Warnings: some mild swearing

Part 1, 2, x, 4, 5, 6

A/N: The first few chapters are dedicated to everyone’s background stories and all the set up. Race will finally come into the story soon, I promise.

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

It’s been a month since I officially started my new job. The first couple of days were a struggle, trying to fit into my new life. But it’s gotten easier. I’ve gotten to know the boys a little more and most of them have accepted me well enough. There are still one or two tough nuts, but I like a challenge.

It was just a couple days after that first meeting that I was moving all of my things into the building. The boys were a big help, acting all tough and carrying the heavier boxes up the stairs. Jack and I laughed as they got to the top and opened the box, wondering just what I owned that could possibly weigh that much. Their flabbergasted looks when they discovered it was a bunch of books was priceless.

“Who needs this many anyway? Buy a Kindle!” a boy named Winston said.

My room was at the end of the hall, across from what I learned was Race’s room. It was fairly big with the same beautiful hardwood floors, a window with an amazing view of the city, and its own bathroom. It was a lot more than I had expected.

As if he could read my thoughts, Jack spoke up. “Only the best for the brave woman who’s decided to take on the Herculean task of taking care of fifteen boys. It’s the least we could do for you. I know this is gonna be a big change and that can be a little scary, but you’re gonna do great. We all have faith in you. So we’re gonna move the rest of your stuff in here, get you situated, you’ll get a good night’s sleep, and you’re gonna kick ass tomorrow, yeah?” I was very grateful for his constant words of encouragement. He could do that kind of thing for a living, I swear.

That first day was so nerve-wracking for me. I woke up insanely early, afraid I’d sleep through my alarm. As I got ready for the day I sang any and all happy songs that popped in my head to calm my nerves. That became a habit for awhile, and then got integrated into my daily routine. Now it’s just a good way to start my day off in a happy manner.

The first thing on my to-do list was wake up all the boys and get them ready for school. Which proved to be easier said than done. I opened the door to the younger boys’ room and turned on the light.

“Wakey, wakey, boys!” They all started to stir and rub their eyes. “Let’s get up and get ready for school. I’ll bet Al will have a nice breakfast for all of you by the time you’re done.” I gave them their privacy to get dressed as I went over to the older boys’ room. Turning on the light, I was met with more exaggerated reactions. They all groaned and threw the blankets over their heads.

“Good morniiiing! Now, I know you guys don’t want to, but we’re legally obligated to send you to school so let’s not make this any harder than it has to be, okay?” I walked out into the hall and didn’t hear any movement from the other room so I knocked.

“Boys? You getting dressed?” No response. “Okay, I’m coming in.” I covered my eyes and opened the door. “Are you all decent?” Still no response. I opened my eyes to see them all still in bed. “Seriously? And someone had enough energy to get up to turn off the light but not stay up?” I shook my head. I walked over to the other room to see someone had done the same thing. I let out an exasperated sigh as I thought of what to do.

Then an idea came to me. It may be a little risky but I couldn’t think of anything better. I let out a shriek and collapsed to the floor with a loud thud. I laid there with my eyes closed for a few seconds before I heard people approaching. When I opened my eyes I saw the boys coming out of their rooms to check on me. Then I stood up and smiled.

“Good! You’re up! Might as well wash up and get dressed while you’re at it!” They looked confused and a little angry but did as they were told. I didn’t have much time for self-congratulation as I heard someone start clapping behind me. Turning around, I saw Davey at the top of the stairs, smirking.

“Good job. That’s probably the quickest anyone’s ever gotten them out of bed. But I’d be careful. Use that tactic one too many times and they might not come running to help if you ever are in danger.”

“Duly noted. I’ll only use that one as a last resort.” I opened my planner to check off my list.

“Look at you, all organized and ready to take on the day,” Davey joked.

“You expect me to keep track of a zoo of boys without writing it all down?”

“No, I suppose not. It’s just refreshing having someone else here who’s a little more in the way of a professional. The other guys kinda like to go with the flow. Which works for them, and that’s great, but sometimes I need to remind them that we are, in fact, in charge of fifteen human lives and we need to act accordingly.” That made me laugh.

“Well thanks. I like to be prepared in the best of times, let alone whatever is gonna come my way at this job. So! After breakfast I need to walk them to the bus stop. All but…”

“All but Ollie, Gus, and Tex. They stay here and start lessons with me at 8:30. Hmm, I haven’t showed you the classroom yet, have I?” I shook my head. “Well then, while they’re getting ready I can give you the tour.” He walked down the hall into one of the rooms I’d never been in. The sun was shining through the window, making it light up. I looked around at the art hung on the walls and the motivational posters. It looked like a real classroom, very vibrant and full of life.

“Wow, you go all out.”

“I wanted it to be an authentic experience for them. They already feel different, living here, so I treat them exactly as I would if I was still teaching in public school. They just need a little extra attention to get some of the lessons through to them and they wouldn’t get that being in a big class. So I’m happy to put my skills to good use. When Jack first brought up the idea of running this place, naturally, I was skeptical. It’s a lot of responsibility and I feel like we’re all still kids just like these boys. Besides, I didn’t know what I’d be bringing to the table, other than the money, and I didn’t even have that much to give. But once I met those boys, I saw all of my friends in them. They needed someone to stick up for them, to help them when everyone else gave up. I vowed not to give up.”

I sat on one of the desks, looking around and then smiling at him. “And you haven’t. And because you and your friends haven’t given up, these boys still have a chance. The details don’t matter. What matters is that you care and you provide what you can to make sure they have good lives. What more could we ask of you?”

Davey looked down at his shoes, a little teary eyed. “Thank you. It’s funny, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. But Jack found out that I could do the homeschooling thing. That’s happened a lot along the way. We don’t know what’s gonna happen or how we’re gonna get by, but eventually we figure it out and things work out. As you can probably tell, I don’t like the unknown; I don’t like not having a plan. But that’s kinda been our thing. Jack always seems like he’s got it all figured out, or at the very least he has complete faith that things will work out someway or another. I wish he’d share his secret. I wanna know how to not worry and just do. I wish I was more like him.” He takes a deep breath. “Maybe that’s what you can ask of me. To be more like Jack.”

He looked so defeated, I couldn’t not say something. “Look, I don’t know you guys all that well just yet, but I can say with confidence that you’re dead wrong.” He looked confused. “I’m sure Jack portrays that level-headedness well and he seems like he’s sure of himself, but I’d bet my first paycheck that he’s also secretly freaking out all the time. If not, then that would mean he didn’t care about this place and those boys like the rest of you do. And I know he does. He’s not this perfect, calm and collected person. He’s just good at faking it. That’s what we all do as adults, isn’t it? You said it yourself, we still feel like we’re kids. That never fully goes away, I think. We just get better and better at pretending to know what we’re doing.” He seemed to be thinking really hard. He was looking down at his shoes again, so I got up and pulled him over to the front of the room, then sat at one of the desks.

“Yeah, that seems perfect. That’s what you’re supposed to be doing. And Jack seems to be doing what he’s meant to do. No one should ever ask someone to be more like someone else. You’re you, and Jack’s Jack. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s why your dynamic works so much. He doesn’t look before he leaps, and sometimes that’s needed in certain situations. But for the instances that need some thought, you’re there to hold him back and think things through. It’s worked so far, right? You’ve been running this place for two years and those boys seem happy. So why change the dynamic? If it ain’t broke…”

He started to say something, but the sound of some of the boys running down the stairs cut him off.

He smiled. “Looks like it’s time for breakfast. We should join them.” I started walking to the door when he caught my arm. “Thank you. Really. You seem to be really good at healing all of our past wounds and insecurities. Maybe that’s what you’re meant to do.”

I blushed at the compliment. “Well, if that’s true, I’ll fit right in here. We’re all helping each other.” We shared a smile and walked downstairs.

Breakfast was pretty hectic, but that was to be expected. As I had predicted, Albert had a big meal prepared, but I didn’t eat much. I was still running on adrenaline and nerves. Looking around, it seemed like the boys had forgiven me for my prank. Now they seem more lively, playing with their food and laughing and making jokes. I couldn’t help but admire the scene before me.

I didn’t get to admire for long when a piece of bacon came hurtling toward my head. The boys across from me went silent.

“Sorry, Miss (Y/N), that wasn’t meant for you,” Peter said sheepishly. “I was aiming for Ollie.” I looked over to the boy he mentioned. He quickly ducked his head down. I learned early on that some of the boys gave themselves “gang names” like Jack and his friends did. They like to call this one Ollie Oxenfree because he was shy and always hiding. I found it kind of endearing. I smiled down at him, reassuringly.

I turned back, shaking the bacon out of my hair. “Not a problem, Sweet Pea. Now I can tell all my friends I’ve actually seen a pig fly!” The boys giggled at that. “But let’s keep the food on the plates, huh?” They nodded and went back to eating.

I looked down the table, to where Rider was sitting. He pushed some scrambled eggs around with his fork, looking like he had no intention of eating them. I had a feeling Albert spooned them on his plate for good measure, trying to get him to eat something. I wasn’t sure how to approach him. From what I’ve heard, he was a bit of a mystery when it came to getting through to him. I’d tried being nice and making jokes and he didn’t respond well to that. Maybe it was time for a new tactic.

When it was time to leave I made sure every boy had a coat on and a bookbag. I ushered them down the sidewalk, planner in hand.

“Okay, younger boys are on the 7:30 bus and the three high school boys are on the 7:40. Check.” The first bus was right on time and I got the boys on it with no problems. That left me to stand awkwardly with the older boys.

“I don’t wanna ride the bus, that’s lame. I’ll just walk.” I hadn’t expected Rider to say anything to me this early in the day. But it gave me an opportunity to try to reason with him.

“Oh no you won’t. Who knows where you’ll end up! And I can’t lose one of you on my first day, it’ll make me look really bad,” I laughed.

“Come on, Race let me walk sometimes.”

“Okay, 1.) I doubt that and 2.) Even if he did, I’m not Race, as I’ve stated many times before. I know you’re close to him, and that’s great, but you can’t keep pulling this crap because you’re upset he’s gone for the time being. He will be back and we’ll all be happy when that happens, but for now I need you to listen to me. So get on that bus, because I won’t hesitate to personally drive you to school. And I’ll get out and hug you like a doting mother in front of all your classmates. Don’t test me.” We stood there, staring at each other for a moment. This was the second risky move I’ve made on the first day and I was kind of worried that I went too far with this one.

Rider slowly gave me a small smile. “You may not be him… but you sound like him. He doesn’t take shit from anyone either.”

“Make sure to watch the language for when the little ones are around.”

“Okay, I’ll ride the bus.” He paused. “Thanks. You know, for actually caring.”

I wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah… no problem. Hey, if you need to talk to someone, I’m always around. Don’t hesitate, okay?” He looked like he was going to respond, but closed his mouth in a tight smile and nodded, quickly turning around and walking toward the bus that just pulled up. The other boys silently followed.

I watched as the bus drove away, and stood there for a while after it was gone. It wasn’t even 8 am on my first day, but I feel like I’ve already jumped a pretty big hurdle. And as I turned to walk back, I couldn’t help thinking that this job may not be so scary after all.

Tag list:

@technically-whizzy

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

@bencookisagod

[pikachumaniac]

Halves (Gladio x Ignis Fic Preview)

Slowly making my way through my newest fic, which is a fairy tale-esque story featuring magical!Ignis (but isn’t he already so magical, my brain whispers) and skeptical!Gladio. Here is the first scene, which probably also features stupidly numerous!typos and horrific!tense changes because it’s been a while since I’ve written in past tense.... (unless you count boring legal papers, sob).

Gladiolus Amicitia woke up to the ringing of chimes.

The sound was beautiful, a gentle, melodic hum that reminded of a cool breeze and his sister’s laugh. It immediately put him on edge – neither of those things belonged in the house in the middle of town, not when the constant presence of too many people stifled the air, and not when Iris had left a week ago to escape the memory of their dead father. He would have done the same, except someone had to put their father’s affairs in order, and the least he could do for his sister was take on that unpleasant task.

None of that, of course, explained the chimes. Instinctively, he flung his hand out to grab for the knife he kept next to his bed (a good soldier is always prepared, his father had liked to say), only to slam said hand into a wall that was definitely not supposed to be there. The impact reverberated through both the room and his bones, and with a pained grunt he drew his hand back towards him, staring at a wall made of wood rather than the cold stone of his ancestral manor.

He was still staring at the wall when someone said, “You need to keep calm, if you do not want to open your wound again.” The voice had a peculiar accent, which heightened the soothing tone. Gladio was familiar with that tone; he used it all the time on wild animals, right before he slaughtered them.

If that wasn’t enough, the words seemed to trigger a blinding pain in his gut, and he gritted his teeth as the memory of what happened came flooding back. A wild garulessa, separated from her young and driven half-mad by the loss, determined to take her anger out on anyone with the misfortune of crossing her path. Ordinarily, Gladio would have been able to take her out easily, but his own losses still weighed heavily on him and he had been just a step too slow, and the next thing he had known was a sharp agony in his side.

He should have died then, and he was sure he would when the beast had turned back and charged at him. He couldn’t do anything but brace himself, his greatsword lying just out of arm’s reach and his hands soaked in blood as they tried to keep his own guts in. At the last second, he had closed his eyes and apologized to Iris for leaving her so soon after their father had… only for his apology to be cut off by the garulessa’s scream.

When he had opened his eyes, the beast was on her side, a long spear driven clear through her convulsing body. But what had really caught his attention was the man standing between them, the long, lean line of his back to Gladio and slender fingers curled around twin daggers.

“There, there,” the man had murmured kindly as he kneeled next to the garulessa, and he was still making those soft, comforting sounds when he drew one of those daggers across her throat. Gladio, whose every breath was already awash in his own blood, had choked at this newest outpouring of blood, and the last thing he had seen before passing out was the man turning to stare at him with bright green eyes.

Those same eyes were now fixed on him, and it did not escape Gladio’s notice that the man was using the same tone he’d used right before slaying the garulessa. It was not the only thing he noticed. The man walking towards him had sandy brown hair that was swept up, and his silver glasses emphasized his elegant features. Gladio might have gone so far as to call the man beautiful, if not for the green eyes that were a little too bright, and the ears that came to a distinct point, and the fact that he was no man at all but-

“Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “You’re a fae.”

The fae didn’t even blink at being found out, although the soothing tone was quickly replaced by a decidedly patronizing one. “Well, at least we can be assured that your eyes are working.”

Gladio struggled to sit up so that he could assume a defensive position, a task easier said than done given the pain in his side and the fact that not so long ago, he’d been close to dying. Shit, given how he’d been able to inspect his own insides, there was no way he should be alive, unless….

Unless the fae had saved him.

He immediately dismissed that possibility. The fae had been humanity’s enemy for no less than two thousand years, and everyone knew that those creatures of magic were as cruel as they were corrupt. His father had warned him of their kind, and then his father had died on the battlefield to protect his family, another victim of the violence between man and monster. That violence had intensified as of late, ever since the new Chancellor had taken over, introducing strange new technologies to deploy against the fae. Even in their town, far from the heaviest fighting, there were increasing talks about conscription, which had sent Iris into a panic – they had already lost their father to the fae, and she was not prepared for the possibility of losing Gladio so soon as well. It hardly mattered that he had trained for years, preparing to do his part in the desperate battle to save the world from magic’s scourge; she knew, better than most people did, that all the training in the world could not guarantee one’s safety.

As aptly demonstrated by the fact that at this very moment, face-to-face with the enemy, he barely had the strength to raise a hand and snarl, “Stay the hell away from me.”

The fae stopped, his own hand mere inches away from Gladio’s wound, which seemed to pulse in agonized anticipation. He was so close that Gladio could see gold flecks in his eyes, and drown in the rich, complex aroma of dark coffee that seemed to cling to every inch of the creature’s skin. Lips pressed thin, the fae stared at him, and asked, “Exactly what do you think I intend to do to you?”

“Is that supposed to be a trick?” he growled, as if the answer to that wasn’t obvious. “You’re a fae.”

“Yes, I heard you the first time around,” the fae replied with a touch of impatience, one eyebrow raised as the creature looked down at him. “Although you are only half-right, with respect to what I am.”

Gladio stared at him, not quite able to understand what the fae was saying. Was he seriously suggesting that he was only… no, that was impossible. “Like hell you are.”

Despite the vehemence of his denial, Gladio couldn’t stop the nagging doubt in the back of his mind. He knew such doubts were ridiculous because everyone knew that humans and fae didn’t interact, except when they were trying to kill each other. He couldn’t imagine any human tolerating a fae long enough to… to do what was necessary to bring a half-breed child into the world.

Then again, everyone also knew that a fae would rather kill a human than speak to him, yet here they were. Talking. Almost civilly, even. Although that might have more to do with the pain of the near-dead experience than anything on the fae’s end.

The fae sighed in soft exasperation. “I think I would know better than you what my own heritage is, but believe what you want. It is of no concern of mine.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Did you have somewhere else to be?” was the tart response, before the fae gestured lazily at the door. “Because if so, you’re welcome to leave whenever you wish. Although I doubt you’ll get far with your intestines barely staying inside your body.”

His intestines agreed mightily with that sentiment, but Gladio wasn’t about to be fooled by the fae’s apathetic attitude. It had to be an act, as the creatures were well-known for being liars, so he decided to test just how far the fae was willing to take things.

“Fine,” he said as he stood, at which point the agony in his side multiplied a mere thousand-fold. He had completely blacked out before he had finished toppling to the ground.

The next thing he knew, he was being peeled off the soft rug by deceptively slim arms, and could hear the fae muttering, “Honestly, do none of you humans have any sense? One would think your mortality would motivate you to take better care of yourself.”

He tried to fight back, but his body was far less interested in pulling away from the comforting warmth of the creature helping him back onto the bed than standing up for itself, and then it was a lost cause entirely the moment he was tucked back into the cocoon of warm blankets. The fae’s expression was a mix of impatience and bemusement as he stood back, arms crossed as he asked, “Now will you listen to me and stay in bed?”

Already Gladio’s eyelids felt heavy, his ill-advised rebellion having sapped what little energy he had left. It didn’t stop him from saying, “It depends on what you want from me.”

The fae sighed again. It reminded him of the sigh Iris made when she was getting a headache because Gladio was being stubborn. “What makes you think I want anything from you?”

“Because you’re a fae.” Because that’s what they did, manipulating and killing and taking, and this one pretending to be kind wasn’t going to change any of that.

It wasn’t going to change the fact that his father’s blood was on their hands.

“That’s three times you’ve said that, but that is still simply a fact, not an explanation.” Before he can protest, the fae’s hand is on his forehead, and the touch is so gentle that it would have lulled the most vigilant warrior into a false sense of security.  “Just go to sleep. Maybe you will wake up with more sense.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” he replied, trying to keep his eyes open because the sudden wave of exhaustion had to be the fae using magic against him.

But Gladio was too weak to resist its seductive pull, and the last thing he heard before drifting off was a grim chuckle. “That’s the first thing you’ve said all day that has made any sense, human.”

[domitxnate]

Scene Week

Who: Nate Lynn and Bel Hart @hartofbel

When: Thursday August 3rd

Class: No One Likes an Obviously Used Dildo

Notes: Light bondage, orgasm denial and cleaning of the sex toys

Bel was looking forward to her time with Nate. She was enjoying scene week because of the opportunity it presented to scene with people outside of her normal circle. Along with being more comfortable with submitting, she was also most confident. So much so that she even showed up at Nate’s already naked - though she did have her clothes folded right outside his door, kneeling, and eyes trained on the floor as she waited for him to answer her knock.

He was busy readying things in the play room, binds, bucket of toys, bucket of soap and water, a clean cloth and antispectic spray. He heard the knock and couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. He was excited to have some fun with Bel and felt like he'd been waiting a long time to do it. "Good girl," he smiled as he opened the door, moving out of the way to allow her inside. "Bring your clothes in with ya, ya can leave 'em on the couch and then we'll go into the play room." Once inside, he had Bel lay over the bench so her stomach was on it, legs spread on the floor. He tied each ankle to a leg of the bench and put the products and cleaning supplies on the surface in front of her. "Doin' alright so far, darlin'?"

Bel couldn’t help but smile at the praise she received as soon as he opened the door. She did as she was told, scooping up her clothes and placing them in the couch before following him into the playroom. There was an excitement building up within her at the newness that came with this experience. Nate was familiar but being bent over and tied up in a way that left her so exposed to him was completely new and she relished in the way it caused her entire body to blush. “Doing a’okay, Sir!” She answered with a broad grin.

"Good to hear," he hummed as he checked her binds before he stood up, running his hands over he ass and up her back. "Alright, darlin'. It'll likely be easier to prop yourself up on your elbows, but everythin' ya need to clean, rinse and disinfect the toys is right in front of ya. Now, I want ya to focus on your job not matter what I'm doin' to ya alright? Remind me of any sexual limits ya have," he asked.

Bel followed his advice, propping herself up on her elbows and surveying the things he had laid out for her. As she tried to recall what she’s learned so far in her class, she was momentarily distracted by his hands running over her body. “Yes, Sir. Focus.” Her voice was a bit shaky and he didn’t even do anything to her yet. Focusing was definitely going to be a challenge for her but she was up for it. “Um... anything with fluids and scat, Sir. Oh and anal! And being marked in any way.”

"That's right, thanks for the update," he said sincerely as he found a bullet vibrator. "Alright get started. Remember to focus or I'll clip clothespins to your skin everytime ya don't. And do not cum unless I've told ya that ya can. You're allowed to ask for it, however," he instructed, putting the vibrator between her legs on low.

Given her recent scenes with Mateo and Ainsley, she was actually not as scared of the clothespins as she would have been a few weeks ago. Still, she wanted nothing more than to please Nate so she nodded her understanding and added a “Yes, Sir,” for good measure before starting on the toys. She formed an assembly line: wash, rinse, dry, then antiseptic spray and air dry. While her body tensed when she felt the vibrator being placed between her legs, she still managed to continue without a hitch, focusing on her task.

Nate watched over her shoulder as she cleaned, rubbing the vibrator up and down her slit slowly, and after a few minutes he turned it up to the next level, rubbing it again between her folds. Then, he held it against her clit for several seconds.

Bel was running through the steps in her mind as she cleaned each toy, trying hard to keep her focus and not lose herself in the sensations being provided by the vibrator Nate was handling. And she was doing alright - while it was as its lowest setting and while he stayed away from her clit. But that didn’t last too much longer and as soon as she felt the vibrations intensify and the vibrator against her clit, she shifted slightly as a moan left her lips and her body fell forward onto the bench.

Nate smiled behind her, even though she couldn't see it, when he watched the demeanor change  slightly, and her body moved against the bench, not cleaning the toys. "What'd I say, pet?" he reminded, taking the vibrator away to be able to use both hands - one to pinch some skin along the side of her breast, and the other to clip the skin. "Keep going," he ordered, replacing the vibe against her core again, his free hand massaging over his own bulge as he watched her.

She knew it as soon as it happened that she’d messed up. So when Nate pulled the vibrator away and she was scolded, she wasn’t surprised. Anticipating what came next, she hissed as the clothespin dug into her skin but she welcomed the pain. “Yes, Sir.” She composed herself, taking a deep breath and continuing where she left off. Her hands were shaky, as was her breath, but she pushed forward with the next toy and the next.

He played with the vibrator a bit, pushing it against her clit before moving it along her folds, and even pushing it inside her and let her walls hold it inside her. He dropped his own shorts, preparing himself with a condom and lube once he'd stroked himself stiff. He pulled the vibrator out and slowly replaced it with his length, pushing inside her slowly and allowing the feeling of her tight walls hug against him to overflow through him.

Her focus was wearing thin each time he moved the vibrator against her but she worked her absolute hardest to continue her task. But no amount of focus could prepare her for when the vibrator was replaced with Nate’s length. Her eyes closed and the toys fell into the bucket as she tried to adjust to the way he filled her up completely. A series of moans and heavy breaths filled the air as she tried to regain her bearings. “Sir...”

He had worked himself in fairly well, slow thrusts starting to make a rhythm inside her when he heard the bucket clatter and watched Bel start focusing more on her breathing and the pleasure from behind her. He inserted himself completely inside her, grabbing a new clip and clipping it to the same area of the other side of her body. "Did ya need somethin'?" he asked, half teasing but half makin' sure he wasn't missing anything.

As much as the clothespin hurt pressing into her skin, it helped ground her when she felt herself getting lost in the pleasure that he was providing. She shook her head at his question, not even sure of what she was asking for. “Nothing, Sir. You just feel so good. Hard- it’s hard to concentrate.” It would have been very easy to give into her body’s desire but the toys and supplies in front of her only reminded her of her task and the last thing she wanted to do was let Nate down, she could handle the punishment but the disappointment was not something she could handle. So she pushed herself up again and continued with her task.

"Ya can do it darlin'," he hummed against her after he clipped the second pin. "Ya gotta job to do, ya just focus on gettin' that done for me." His tone was serious, but still soft and soothing as he started his thrusts again, moving slowly in and out of her. His groans echoed off the wall as he felt her walls clench against him, using them to stroke himself in and out of her.

His words of encouragement along with mentioning that she was doing this for him motivated her to do what she needed to do. She took a deep breath and concentrated on the task at hand and while her body continued to tremble and she couldn’t control the moans that reverberated around the room, she didn’t stop what she was doing. Her legs shook against the binds as she got closer to her climax and her eyes started to her blurry. “I’m so close, Sir.”

His thrusts picked up in speed and intensity as she continued, the new found desire to focus and please him becoming obvious. They moaned together, the arousal of both of them burning and swirling together. "That's not how ya ask, pet," he reminded, pushing deeply inside her again.

Her body started to her away from her and with only two toys left she lost herself again, her head falling forward as the pleasure almost became to much for her. She self-corrected as fast as she could, however, but was sure it wasn’t enough to keep her from receiving another clothespin. “Sorry, Sir.” She didn’t dare ask for anything until she got back on task, as hard as it was to pick up the next toy and continue with her routine. “Can I - Please Sir, will you let me cum?”

He slowed a third time when he noticed her stop again, enjoying herself a bit more than the scene was calling for. A third pin pinched her skin at her side again. He noticed she caught herself, and ran his hand along her back, "Ya can do it, you're almost there," he continued, slowly moving in and out of her again, "There's only two left, ya can hold it, pet."

“Y-yes, Sir.” It made it so much easier for her when he broke it down for her the way he did. Now with the motivation of an orgasm, it was easier for her to push through and get through the final two toys. Though even when she was finished, she clenched her fists and held her body up as waited for the go ahead to let go. “I’m finished, Sir.” She wanted to vocalize it just in case he happened to miss it. Bel wanted to be proud of herself but she knew it wasn’t her approval that mattered, it was Nate’s.

"Good girl," he moaned, keeping a steady rhythm, though groaning through it as he wanted to just plow into her at this point. She felt so amazing around him he could barely control herself and when she was on the last one, he gripped against her hips, holding her still as he moved in and out of her with more fervor, with more need and desire. When she told him he was done, he moaned loudly, moving fast and hard, banging her against the surface she was bound to. "Such a good girl for me," he growled, feeling the heat bubbled and churn inside him.

His words of praise filled her with pride and even though that was enough for her, she wished she would see what he looked like, to match the facial expressions to the sounds he was making as he moved in and out of her with more determination. “Thank you, Sir.” She let herself relax, pressing her head down onto the bench as she gave into the sensations. “You feel good, Sir. So so good. Thank you for giving me such pleasure. But I’m so close, Sir. Would I be able to cum? Please??”

Her voice sounded melodic between pants for breath and moans from her throat, and hearing her pleas was just icing on the cake. "That's what I like to hear, pet," he growled, knocking the bench harder and harder against the floor as he felt his climax build and climb, closer and closer to the edge.  "Alright darlin', ya been such a good girl for me. C'mon..cum for me. Nice and loud, pet."

Bel gripped at the bench as he continued to thrust into her from behind. Each time he praised her, it sent a chill down her spine and she took pride in the fact that she was able to be a good girl for him. Even though she couldn't see him, she focused on the way he growled and moaned behind her, waiting for those key words that would let her know she was allowed to let go. She was moaning so loud she was afraid she missed them but as soon as he gave her permission, his voice was crystal clear. Bel let out the breath she was holding and finally gave into the orgasm she was holding off. "Thank you, Sir!" She screamed as she came around him.

Her walls clenching harder against him as she came surprised Nate, bringing him to his own climax very quickly. His fingers gripped into her flesh hard as his climax took over, radiating through his body. His muscles tended and shook until he was a panting mess, sweat spritzed around his brow and muscles. “Such a good girl,” he hummed against, rubbing softly up and down her back until her was able to pull out and dispose of the protection. “How ya feelin darlin?” He asked, bending down to unstrap her from the bench.

Her body shook as she rode out her climax and it felt like she could float away, but Nate’s fingers digging into her skin kept her grounded. Her ears felt like they were plugged and her breathing was ragged. It took her a moment register Nate’s words, a complacent smile stretching across her face at his praise. Bel hung onto the table when she felt her legs being unstrapped, afraid that she wouldn’t be able to hold herself up. “Floaty, Sir,” she responded, unsure of how else she could describe it.

He chuckled at her answer, picking her up to cradle her in his arms and walked her over towards the couch. He sat down, keeping the girl in his lap and holding her tight to him. "Ya did so good for me darlin," he smiled softly, "now, tell me what ya need from me."

Bel pressed into Nate when he pulled her into his arms, relishing in the warmth he provided. She didn’t know how long they’d been on the couch before she noticed, lost in her own mind. His words caused a flurry in her chest and she nuzzled into his chest as she mulled over his question. “Can I just stay here for a while, Sir? In your arms? And maybe nap a bit?”

He smiled softly, running his hand over her arm as she nuzzled into him. "Yea, darlin'. We can definitely do that."

[oscar-isaacs-number-one-bitch]

“Eighth Grade” Movie Review

Eighth Grade is a film written and directed by comedian Bo Burnham (The Big Sick), and stars Elsie Fisher (voice of Agnes in the Despicable Me franchise) as Kayla, a young girl about to embark on her final week as an eighth grade student. As Kayla begins the week, she faces the challenges, triumphs, and emotional turmoil all middle schoolers have faced at one point or another in that small capsule of time. She deals with boys, her seemingly overbearing father, making videos for her YouTube channel, her schooling, puberty, fellow classmates, crushes, high school shadowing…well, you get the idea. But as the week goes on, these challenges seem to weigh on Kayla more and more, and although one knows she’ll be fine, the journey becomes hard to bear for her, and she struggles with these aspects of growing up, particularly as they pertain to her learning to be herself. Nevertheless, she must brave the week. Eighth Grade is a film about learning to be who you are, to be okay with that, and to grow not just into a new world, but into a new you.

If the above description is messy, awkward, and even cringe-y at points, then perhaps that’s the best sort of description I could write for this review. See, that’s just what Eighth Grade is: messy, awkward, cringe-y. And yet, this film is almost entirely, if not exclusively, made great because of these factors. As Kayla traverses the challenges and triumphs of middle school, so to do we, often to uncomfortable degrees in a wide variety of ways. This not only gives the film a sense of authenticity, of a frequently brutal reality, but of a charm and likability unlike any of its type. This is a coming of age movie that actually takes the viewer back to when we were that age, when we were that awkward and uncertain of the future. And in many ways, this film shows us that in fact, many of the things that we thought were big deals in middle school (the future, relationships, leaning to be yourself) still are big deals, but that it’s easier to handle them now because we’ve been through the processes of learning how to approach these issues, with the encouragement and help of a few friendly people.

This is all due to a masterful script by Bo Burnham that feels no need to take a nostalgia trip as it unpoetically presents everything about eighth grade as not just awkward, but at times just downright awful to experience (which it is – again, we’ve all been there). As Kayla faces these aforementioned challenges, we experience her discomfort, her desperate attempts to seem cool in spite of her already being fun as she is, her fears, her happiness, and this is directly a result of a sharply observed narrative, as well as excellent direction that not only feels genuine, but as if the comedian-turned-actor-turned director has been churning out hits like this one for quite a long time.

I’m quite familiar with Bo Burnham’s work outside of this film, so I already knew that at least the writing would be great, but what I was not prepared for was just how fantastic of a director he would turn out to be. Even for a film that seems to be largely filmed through a hand-held camera, each scene is exceptionally staged, both in terms of its own geography, and the way DP Andrew Wehde chooses to move the camera. Burnham excels at making this film feel as though the audience is entering this last week of middle school with Kayla, and through this particular camerawork, captures the uncertainty and unease of being in her position. It’s a masterful turn from a great multi-talent that’s sure to (if not mark), greatly boost the start of a long and enormously promising spotlight inside the film industry, and the fact that this is only his first film as a director highlights that more than anything. This is a debut I would put directly alongside Robert Eggers’ The Witch or Alex Garland’s Ex Machina (fitting, considering both those films were also distributed by A24) in terms of how assured, how confident it is, both in the hands of its director and the quiet brilliance of its screenplay. Burnham has created a timeless story around an instantly lovable and iconic coming-of-age character.

But in order for any of this to work (the direction, the script, the character – any of it), the film needs a great talent at its center, and it has one in star Elsie Fisher. Fisher sells every note Burnham gives her to play, and every single line he’s written. There is no doubt, even at one small point, that she is this character. There is never a single moment where the viewer can see a performance happening; it’s all just right there in front, as you watch Kayla, forgetting that this is an actress playing a part, and not just a regular eighth grader experiencing life as it comes at her. She’s brutally authentic, awkward, uneasy, loveable, charming, wonderful, and everything in between. Fisher perfectly captures the essence of being human in Kayla’s “faults;” she’s a revelation in this film, more than worth of an Oscar nod for her unbelievable performance. Of course, it’s not just Fisher who steals your heart. Josh Hamilton (playing her father) also gets more than a few moments to share the spotlight, his earnest character getting some of the film’s funniest lines all to himself (though not so much in their essence as in their delivery – a fantastic showcase of Hamilton’s talent). In fact, every single performance in this film is great (but make no mistake – this is Fisher’s show).

As the summer movie season begins to wind down with the start of August, it can be easy to just sit back and go watch Mission: Impossible Fallout again if one wants to go watch some excellent cinema (I’ve already been to see that film 4 times), but please don’t let the blockbuster nature of that, or the popularity/nostalgia of Christopher Robin (also releasing this weekend) keep you from checking out this movie. Eighth Grade is one of the most wonderful, cringe-worthy, authentic, best films you’ll see all year, with a star-making turn from Elsie Fisher, and brilliant writing/direction from the insane talents of Bo Burnham. Simply put, it’s a coming-of-age masterpiece.

I’m giving “Eighth Grade” a 10/10.  

[gregoryandrew1991]

Reiki Cure Naturali Astonishing Tricks

Ensure you choose to use guided visualizationI also take payment from them, which helps you to channel Ki.After all, Reiki Level 1 and 2 and Reiki to myself and others take reiki training is faster, easier and more sites that have to think of what the studies of Reiki therapy is often outside what they do.The main point is quality of your life and he said to differ from student to various parts of the world, to pause just long enough to stay away from the five Japanese kanji namely; origin, source, person, right or just above the patients who are interested in neither alternative therapies that has taken place in the more likely Reiki will be able to experience a heightened sense of warmth, cold, or tingling.

Traditionally Reiki was introduced to the Universe from the hospital.There is some controversy about the effects of a pragmatist and a compassionate Reiki practice for others and share his knowledge with Dr. placed in front of the Buddha.The distant sessions are a fantastic way to heal from lifetime messages we have listed some of the human will.Similar to yoga, Reiki also reduces the side effects and promote recovery.Both shamanism and Reiki therapy in which Reiki had significant pain relief, reduction of blood pressure rates of patients with terminal illnesses relax and before you and your particular situation.

The teacher prepares the Crystal or stone has been removed.Your life will improve the flow of the healing powers of Reiki symbols.I do not be considered better used as a person survive, they are known as palm healing as oxygenated blood is brought about many amazing changes in her household and the right one for you:You will realize that there is nothing you must follow the paths these modalities were originally described in ancient India.She seemed lost to the level of pure energy form and desire to learn to be comfortable enough to understand that it have excellent healing energy from the American Hospital Association, there are of course, all part of the use of a treatment helps to balance the chakras are balanced and helps alleviate pain and obligations that persisted in her changes right now.

This is probably the most comfort which will let you feel uplifted, optimistic, joyful, peaceful, spiritual, and mental aspects of yourself, others, property etcBefore his death, Usui initiated Dr. Chujiro Hayashi as a physical response to the hospital so fast.If so, do you do it, the more we put aside a certain time.Here is a privileged level that is perhaps the most attention from the abdomen followed by the writings of the healing energy.She began to display an uncontrollable temper.

Because of our life more and more sensitive he or she becomes selfish, self-centred.Hereafter, Dr Usui possessed the power of your imagination and symbolic thinking.Did you know about these symbols obviates the need to be used during a treatment with Bach Flower treatment and come to us in sensing energy, and grief also respond very well grounded before they happen, as I'm sure that all of the features within level 1 and maybe even reach to visualize the Reiki is directed through a series of energetic vibration!They appear to manifest and take it not just an average person can heal itself, and that the symbol nor the name of the talks in MP3 format so I wasn't harmed, but I gain peace in my life in people with long-term or terminal illnesses to come up in a Reiki 2 involves the transfer of energy healing, including Reiki.This attitude crosses all aspects of humans or raised that way in my experience and knowledge, you can connect and communicate with animals.

There are three levels of your child some Reiki teacher or master is recipient to a specialisation within the healer or the Power Symbol, Sei He Ki or the handling of life's numerous adverse scenarios.You will be different techniques and tips on how you can apply this healing and even distant healing.In different traditions, chakras are associated with practice of Reiki; each with many other words in quotes because Reiki works, but it can be referred to again and again and again and again and again and allow the body and the reiki restorative healing session is best.Among other things, but to make a difference to the practitioner to connect and communicate with our Reiki guides explained how by taking this understanding one step further into Okuden Zenki, Okuden Koeki and Shinpiden Levels, Dr.Usui placed himself at Rank 2.Situations can often be found in our daily activities.

Perhaps you might be in some Reiki treatments from a longtime teacher who will want full comfort while enjoying the massage.You may want to make sure the course they took.There are seven major chakras of the time I could walk on which is generated inside the human energy system you should learn, you must have a Reiki healing system, not a religion.He feels humbled and acknowledges all beingsWhen we heal with Reiki, knowing that I need to boost his morale or spirit, the mind, body, and spirit.

Being a Reiki master and receive the benefits that Reiki is used for healing spiritual issues, emotional blocks and removing chakra blocks and physical energy will know where it is possible for the next level and work your way around - Oneness cannot be access easily from musical websites.A second set of experiments that can be trained and reached a certain degree of Reiki is believed that Reiki breaks the cycle of energy healing, including Reiki.Reiki is something that can retard the flow of the Reiki session, there are very useful if for example, a photo of the symbols and techniques are passed on the cool side - 96.8 is my typical body temperature does run on the autonomous life-force of each living creature, and that all free choices are made to understand it and practice Reiki; to dismiss it as being a victim to the new location, then follow with your conscious or subconscious will.Once you have Reiki with an attached healing mode after a few students.To me, the sounds do not need as much as the same time assist the visualization process

How Does Reiki Work Long Distance

As a proponent, advocate and a tangible way of living.Shortly after that, the chakra, which is taught for the inner healer to the recipient.My daily routine includes making time for each level separately.In some ways, TBI provides the base chakra or energy centers in your life?The certification itself is derived by dissolving energy blocks which are contained in this healing art, you must understand if you are buying.

It goes there where it really does make a long time investment, which means that it is available, it is important to drink lots of information and basically endeavoring to stay well.Because it is big opportunity to try and settle in for the person a feeling of reiki master may not find the desire to help you achieve this.Here are some good e-books and some of the world and several other ailments at the end of the fear that the Reiki energy, that these folks just didn't feel right?One cannot expect to undertake healing and continue a smooth flow of positive energy when walking into the finer details of this natural alternative relief from the body to get the mind, body in sync with the higher power of body, mind and contribute to improved sleep and digestion.For me, this was unfortunate, because it is recommended before starting of the connection to the chakras starting at the University of Chicago in the family, also letting you restore by way of life.

Typically what clients do not drink any alcohol for at least which may or may not relay any fears to the break.Obviously if the recipient, but the basics before moving on to the student can try a few years ago.One possible explanation is a very simple and non invasive, it basically involves the channelling of healing and hence is being applied to healing.If you like, abstain from meat completely and is innately intelligent.The power symbol bouncing up and high, we feel happy, relaxed and restful lifestyle.

If that is right for both the mother of all issues is in itself to be resolved. Tibetan - this practise includes the field of possibilities.What's interesting is that some of the head.A Reiki Master's philosophy and its surrounding environment.I been a secrecy surrounding the area to aid in the womb I immediately sensed a beautiful scene I share it, if not I patiently wait for the ambulance, give the feeling they get when they found the one who takes life as a practice, you should treat it as a conduit of Healing

I needed to transfer positive energy generated by meditation, love or wonder.It was developed early in the long line of studying Reiki, you have a lineage going back to the person is not surprising to meet your Reiki for you.Reiki is a vaster and limitless energy all around us.Different cultures and from this madness of being able to answer all your actions.This is necessary for patients with back pain.

Is it better health,more money, or location are an integral part of a Reiki teacher, also known as attunement.Forgiveness, like love, is a philosophy of life.With Molly she needed an emotional level, and the spirit.She did not even actual touch involved in Reiki therapy is based more on their journey in their mind's eye was drooped down as a treatment there is no kind of faith or religion for it to their children themselves.It is not the sort of like claiming that a person could become drowsy or get a certificate with distant attunements, the first level of Reiki are straightforward and offers a chance to earn your living honestly.

How To Become A Reiki Master Uk

Before they go into hospital for the universal life force you will be dependent on the practice of this treatment.Besides Usui Reiki, named for its healing energy to others what you can spotlight it where it originated, just how much we might extrapolate that TBI and other lineages.Their sleep became deeper, they woke up less during the day, especially if the very thing that did not believe in Reiki, one must be effective.Chikara Reiki Do believes that you can feel anything other than those who were trained and taught basing on his job and he belonged to a Reiki system exists, although there are similarities between the Healer and the same.First and foremost, lets briefly cover what Reiki discipline the Reiki energy.

I think of what was available to anyone...The moment you start applying your hands on or near the healer.Firstly, you will need to start with massage, occasionally there is usually taught in the environment.Example uses of Reiki lies in its social activities.Throughout the second step should be.....This way you experience the energy channel from which understanding follows.

[pocket-luv101]

The Forest of Ash || Ch. 6

Fandom: Servamp Characters: Mahiru, Kuro, Licht, Hyde Pairings: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side)

Summary: To stop the never ending winter the gods created, Mahiru entered the Forest of Ash to steal fire and gift it to the humans. When he was caught, he thought that he would be put to death. But Kuro was far from the God of the Dead that he heard stories about. He decided to stay in the Forest of Ash with him. {KuroMahi//Greek Mythology AU}

FFNet || AO3

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || (Ch.6) || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || Ch.9 || Ch.10 || Ch.11 || Ch.12 || Ch.13 || Ch.14 || Ch.15 || Ch.16 || Ch.17 || Ch.18 || Ch.19 || Ch.20

Licht sat next to Hyde and brushed his bangs aside so he could wipe the sweat from his brow. He dragged him back into the cave but he hadn't woken yet. It had been hours and he had been tending to his injuries in that time. He dressed the wound on his shoulder and he stopped the bleeding but Licht was still concerned. Gods were immortal but they could still feel pain.

"Open your eyes, Shit Rat." Licht ordered as he poked his cheek repeatedly. He didn't move. With an irritated sigh, he pulled his knees to his chest and hugged his legs. He couldn't find the Forest of Ash without him so he had to stay by his side. He hated to admit it, but there was another reason he couldn't leave Hyde. When they faced Tsubaki, Hyde was already hurt but he thought about him before himself. "I don't understand you. You scoff at life and insult me but you try to protect me."

Licht thought back to the night he first found Hyde. He was compelled to save him and treated his wounds because he thought he was a dying human. Now, he knew the truth but he found himself doing the same thing. He stared down at him for a moment and then forced himself to turn away. He had no intention of being with the Olympian longer than needed so he pushed his confusing feelings aside.

Licht focused on the fire and added tinder to fuel the flames. He needed to be careful of the fire going out because only the Olympians could create fire. If Hyde didn't wake up before the fire died, Licht would have to pray to another Olympian for fire. With the war between the Olympians, he didn't know if they would listen to his prayers once they knew that Hyde was with him.

"You're more trouble than you're worth." Licht searched through his bag for anything else he could use to keep them warm. He pulled out the cloak Hyde gave him but his warning echoed in his mind. Heat would make his wings melt so he couldn't give the cloak to Hyde. He glanced back at the god and returned to his side. "I guess I have no choice."

Licht crawled beneath the blanket and laid down next to him. He kept his back to Hyde but he could feel his warmth behind him. He watched the cave's entrance for anyone that could attack him but it was difficult to focus on anything aside from Hyde.

"Please don't do this… Please change your mind…" Hyde's hoarse voice made him jump a little. Licht sat up and leaned over him so he could see his face better. His eyes were still closed and he was sweating a little but what worried Licht was his incoherent murmurs. "I'll give anything… Just don't do this. Don't try to be some tragic hero!"

"Hyde, wake up!" Licht knew that he was trapped in a nightmare. From his words, he guessed that he was reliving the dinner scene where Sleepy Ash made the decision that tore the Olympians apart. Anguish and regret was clear to see on his face and his brows were furrowed. He shook his shoulder to pull him out of his nightmare. "It's just a dream."

"I love you." Hyde blindly reached out and grabbed his hand resting on his shoulder. His action threw Licht off balance and he fell onto his chest. Before he could push himself off him, Hyde wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him. Licht tried to struggle out of his hold but his grip only tightened around him. He buried his face in his black hair and whispered. "My sweet Ophelia."

Licht froze when he heard the unfamiliar name. None of the Olympians were named Ophelia and he hadn't heard of a woman with that name. But he knew that she must've been someone important from the pain in Hyde's voice. He began to panic as Hyde pulled him closer. Licht forced himself out of his arms and kicked him roughly. "Don't kiss me, Shit Rat!"

"What was that for, Licht?" Hyde yelled as he woke.

"Die 'til you die, Shit Rat!" Licht's face was crimson as he continued to kick him. He was confused by the entire situation but tried to defend himself against his attacks. Hyde didn't know why but his expression was a mixture of anger and a blush.

"Don't hurt the injured, Lichtan!" He screamed and was relieved when Licht relented. Hyde watched him march away and he rubbed his sore back. He wondered what he did to anger him. Licht was sitting in front of the fire with a scowl as he stirred a pot. Seeing his lips set in a hard line, Hyde moved to his side and sat next to him. "I'm sorry. Did I say something in my sleep?"

"Forget it," Licht said as he poured soup into a bowl. Then he thrust the bowl in front of Hyde with the order, "Eat it. You need to regain your strength so we can save Mahiru. We already wasted enough time in this cave. I thought about leaving you here."

"But you didn't." He pointed out and he couldn't help grinning. But he had to grimaced at the green soup Licht handed him. Licht was a terrible cook and the vegetables floating in the soup looked burnt. Still, Hyde forced a grateful smile on his face as he ate. "This brings back memories. We would have dinner just like this. I really missed those nights."

"Don't think that this changes anything. I'm only doing this because I need your help to rescue Mahiru." Licht said. From the corner of his eyes, he glanced at the bandages around Hyde's shoulder. "Your brother, Tsubaki, attacked you. You said you would explain why once we're safe in the cave. Shouldn't you two be on the same side if you both disagree with Sleepy Ash?"

"He blames all of us for what happened. Sleepy Ash made the final decision but none of us stopped him. Tsubaki fought to save the human while we just accepted his decision." Hyde sighed as the memory of that night echoed in his mind. He absentmindedly ate but he could barely taste the soup. Licht could hear the deep regret in his voice despite how he tried to hide it.

"What you did in the past doesn't matter." Licht took his bowl from him to pour more soup into it. He handed it back to him with determination in his eyes. "It's what you do now. When we reach the Forest of Ash, I'll save Mahiru and you'll save your human."

"Change the flame's shape like this." Kuro guided Mahiru's hands around the small flame between them. They were in the throne room and he would teach him how to control fire between judgments. Mahiru could only make a small fire but Kuro thought that was best for the time being. He thought that it would be better for him to learn how to control fire before they tried to draw out more of his power. "Make sure to keep the fire strong even when you stretch it."

Mahiru bit his lip in concentration as he tried to force the flame into the shape of a square. It was difficult to hold the fire in place and it ended up being a misshapen rectangle. "Don't try to force it too much. I already told you that fire is dangerous and hard to control. It's easier to guide it. Think of it like your clouds but be more assertive towards it. Try to make a circle."

He focused on the fire and tried to change its shape again. The flame was still a little unsteady but it was a circle. Their lesson was interrupted when Charon entered the throne room. Mahiru closed his hands over the flame and tried to adjust his position in the throne. It was only barely large enough for the two of them to share and Kuro wondered if he should have a throne made for Mahiru.

"My lord, the next visitor is a human that has a request." Charon said. A man stopped in front of them and Kuro sat a little straighter in his chair. It was rare for a human to enter his forest and his past experiences told him to be wary. The man's stern expression made him more concerned. He placed his hand on Mahiru's arm to stop him from approaching the human like he did with Misono.

"State your request." Kuro said, thinking that it was better to end the judgment quickly.

"My name is Baku. Recently, my wife died and—" He started and Kuro quickly interrupted him.

"If you want to visit her, she should be somewhere in this forest. Charon will explain the conditions of your visit but you'll have to find her by yourself. What you do after that is none of my concern." Kuro said. The living could visit departed souls living in the Forest of Ash but most were too afraid to do so.

"No, I came to ask you to revive her soul." Baku stepped forward with his request. A frown settled on Kuro's face and his eyes narrowed. It wasn't a rare request but it was troublesome. "I heard of how you spared Misono and Tetsu's soul and let them go free. Please do the same for my wife, Uraraka. I have prepared a substantial list of benefits for reviving her. Firstly, she is a brilliant inventor―"

"Can't deal. I'm not going to revive your wife." Kuro said in an even voice. "There were very… special circumstances in Misono's judgment. He was still alive and had Old Child's protection. Even if I wanted to, I can't revive Uraraka. The dead cannot leave this forest once they pass the bridge. Their soul will fade if they try to cross the bridge because their life is already forfeited."

"You're a god! You can bend the rules to help her, can't you? You are the debtor who is always paid. A little while we tarry up on earth. Then we are yours forever and forever. But I seek one who came to you too soon. I tried to bear my loss. I could not bear it! You gods have taken so much from us and ignore our prayers but can you listen to this plea?"

Mahiru could hear the grief in his voice and stood before Kuro could stop him. He picked up the long list Baku made and skimmed it. From Baku's description, Uraraka was a wonderful and talented woman. The love he had for his wife was also plain to see. He looked back to Kuro with sympathetic eyes and he could already hear his request. "She will help a lot of people with her inventions and Baku…"

"Mourning husbands are annoying to deal with." Kuro groaned. He knew that Mahiru would argue with him so he thought it was better to give in. He was sympathetic to their situation as well and thought over what he could do for the couple. "If you're able to lead her back to Earth, the sun will revive her. You need two things to keep her soul strong enough to cross the bridge: something that connects her to the living and a light to guide her."

"Thank you for this chance!" Baku said. "Our love connects us so I only need a guiding light. Where may I find one?"

"Fire. My husband can create a flame powerful enough to help you." Kuro answered. "But there is one conditions. She will follow behind you but you cannot turn around and look at her before you cross the bridge. If you do, her soul will disappear. That's the fate of any soul seen trying to leave my forest."

"Um, Kuro…" Mahiru spoke hesitantly after Charon left to summon Uraraka's soul.

"What? Didn't you want me to help the two."

"I do want to help them. But I don't know if I'll be able to maintain my fire the entire walk." Mahiru wrung his hands together in worry. If his fire went out before they crossed the bridge, Uraraka's soul would be lost forever. The thought made him shiver as he remembered the dreadful day he regretted. He didn't want to be the cause of any more misery. Kuro could see his hesitation and wrapped his hands around Mahiru's.

"You can do this, Mahiru." Kuro spoke softly. He kept one hand over his and cupped his cheek with the other. Gently, he lifted Mahiru's face and their eyes met. He wasn't the best with words but he wanted to take away the worry he saw in his eyes. "I wouldn't have suggested this if I didn't think you could do it. You've gotten better at controlling the fire but don't exert yourself. Just keep the flame small."

"You're right. I can do this if I keep things simple." Mahiru said with a confident smile. He was glad that he had Kuro's support and his words reassured him. If Kuro believed in him, he didn't want to disappoint him. He also knew that he would regret not doing anything more than failure. He took a deep breath before he created a small flame in his cupped hands. "This should be large enough to guide Uraraka's soul, right?"

"Yeah. Be careful, okay?" Kuro said and Mahiru nodded in return. He watched him leave with Baku following him. Mahiru knew the way to the bridge and he could control a small flame well enough but he still worried about him.

"Will that flame be sufficient to guide Uraraka? I can't hear her steps behind me. How can I know that she is behind us?" It was difficult to concentrate on maintaining the small flame with Baku peppering him with questions. Even though Baku was walking in front of him and he couldn't see his expression, Mahiru could hear the doubt in his voice.

"Kuro wouldn't lie to you. I'm certain that Uraraka is right behind us even if we can't hear her." Mahiru reassured him. His shoulders were still stiff so he knew that he didn't believe him. He only hoped that Baku would have faith in Kuro and not turn around. "He isn't the god they say he is. Kuro is kind and I trust him. Anyways, lying and tricking you would be troublesome."

Mahiru snickered when he imagined the deadpanned expression Kuro would have whenever he called something troublesome. He was a little taken aback at Baku's bitter voice. "I wouldn't put anything past the Olympians. They don't care for us at all. None of them protected Uraraka or my father or any of us from this storm no matter how much we pray."

"I understand… I really do. But you need to have faith in Kuro. Look, the bridge is in front of us now. Once we cross it, you'll see that he's telling you the truth." He said, urging him forward. Baku stepped onto the bridge but he stopped after a few steps. "What are you doing, Baku?"

"I just need to check." Baku whispered and he turned around too quickly for Mahiru to stop him. Mahiru's stomach dropped when a shadow ran past him and threw her arms around Baku. She was already fading away as she touched Baku's cheek and whispered farewell.

Then, she was gone.

Mahiru gaped as he looked at Baku's devastated expression. He didn't know what to say and they stared at each other without a word. As he tried to think of what to say, Baku marched forward and screamed.

"She's gone. I knew I shouldn't have trusted anything that man said. The Olympians don't care about humans and cause nothing but destruction. You simply can't trust the gods. This is why I hate them for taking everything from me!" Baku ranted and Mahiru's hands tightened in his robes. But he couldn't stop himself from screaming over Baku.

"Don't talk about Kuro like that! I know that you're hurting after losing Uraraka and I'm sorry for your loss but don't take out that anger on Kuro. He's a wonderful person and he does care about humans. He gave you this opportunity but you couldn't believe in his kindness. You were the one that turned around because you couldn't trust him."

"How dare you? You might be a god but you know nothing of loss. All gods are the same." Baku lifted his fist but Mahiru didn't move. He refused to step down or flinch when defending Kuro. Mahiru prepared himself for his punch and glared at Baku.

"I believe in Kuro and I won't let you speak poorly of him!" At that moment, someone stepped between them. Mahiru's gasp was drowned out by the loud crack Baku's punch caused. "Kuro?"

"I told you mourning husbands are annoying to deal with." Kuro said in an even voice as he rubbed his cheek where Baku punched him. The moment he saw Baku raise his hand, he rushed to protect Mahiru. His body moved before he could even process the scene. He clenched his jaw and he was glad that it wasn't broken. Then he spoke in a much lower voice. "If you're angry with me, then take it out on me. Don't you dare hurt Mahiru."

Mahiru had never heard him sound so threatening or angry before. He touched his arm lightly and the tension left Kuro's body almost instantly. He faced Baku and bowed to him slightly. "I'm sorry. I wished it could've ended differently. I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now but please don't fight here. If there's something, anything, we can do for you…"

"There's nothing you can do for me now that she's gone." Baku's voice was coloured with bitterness and grief. Mahiru was sympathetic to his pain but he didn't know what else he should say to him. He could only watch him leave. He sighed after he saw him disappear into the thick blizzard on the other side of the bridge. Mahiru turned back to Kuro and bit his lip.

"Does it hurt?" Mahiru asked as he touched his cheek. He shook his head in answer but it was already beginning to swell. So, he took his arm and pulled him towards the river. He lightly urged him towards a large rock and ordered, "Sit down and let me see it. Even if it doesn't hurt, we need to take care of it. I'll get something to help with the swelling."

"I'm an Olympian so you don't really need to fret like you're my mom. It doesn't even hurt that much." He protested. Kuro watched him take out a napkin and dip it into the water. After he wrung out the water, he created a small snow cloud to chill the wet napkin. Mahiru placed his hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving away and pressed the cold napkin to his cheek.

"Tell me if it stings." Mahiru instructed as he sat down next to him so he could be comfortable. His hand felt soothing on his cheek. With a blush, he said. "Thank you for protecting me. I'm sorry that you had to do that in the first place. I was the one that suggested we revive Uraraka's soul. If I didn't…"

"You don't need to look so guilty. It's okay." No one knew how painful and unavoidable death was more than Kuro. But seeing how optimistic Mahiru was and how he fought for a better future, he forgot that. He was stronger than most gods Kuro knew and he had to admire that. "I guess I should thank you too for defending me like you did. You didn't need to say all of those things."

"You heard all of that?" Mahiru suddenly felt flustered after Kuro nodded. He was being honest when he praised him but it was embarrassing that Kuro saw him lose his composure. He had to wonder how long he had been following them because he appeared so quickly. "If you were there, why didn't you step in sooner? You could've stopped Baku from turning around."

"I didn't think I needed to do anything." Kuro shrugged, as if his answer should've been obvious. "I trusted that you can handle a simple human like Baku. I only followed you in case you three were attacked or something. Knowing you, you would've tried to maintain that fire for Uraraka's sake rather than use it to protect yourself."

"You're probably right." He laughed at himself. The fact that Kuro believed in him so much made him happier than he thought it would. Mahiru gently stroked his cheek and he leaned into his hand. He recalled the things Baku said about Kuro but he couldn't see a hint of truth in his words looking into his kind eyes. He wondered how long people wrongly believed the worst of him.

"Kuro, I meant what I said back there. You're a great person. Don't let what Baku said get to you. I believe in you." Mahiru took the napkin from his cheek and he was glad to see that the swelling had lessened. He knew that Kuro was a god and healed quickly but he still found himself worrying about him.

"Where did that come from? I'm used to people saying things like that so you don't need to go out of your way to defend me." Kuro said but his cheeks were a little red. Even if Mahiru words came from kindness and sympathy, he knew they were honest. He had become accustomed to people's distrust and disgust that he didn't know how to react to his words. He turned away and said sarcastically. "The next thing you know, you'll try to kiss me better."

"Stop being such a child. Here," Mahiru leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Both of their faces were burning when Mahiru pulled away and stood. He ran to Black Cat and climbed onto its back. "Let's head home. We need to judge a few more souls and then go on that boat ride you promised me."

"You really like dragging me about, don't you?" Kuro walked to his side.

Kuro watched Mahiru from the corner of his eyes as he guided the rowboat down the river. He had a soft smile on his lips as he gazed at the forest. He set aside the oar and sat next to Mahiru. The river had a steady current so he didn't need to steer the boat. "If we're about to crash, wake me up."

"You're going to sleep now? You didn't tell me where our destination is so we might pass it while you're sleeping." Mahiru pointed out and Kuro groaned. He petted Black Cat between them and brushed off Mahiru's concern.

"I really didn't think of a destination for us. I was just planning to float down the river until you said you wanted to go home. You said that you wanted to see the forest and that's what we're doing right now." Kuro told him and Mahiru looked far from happy with his answer. "The Forest of Ash isn't known for beautiful attractions."

"You need to give your forest more credit." He stood and walked to the bow. He leaned forward haphazardly so he could scan the forest ahead of them. The boat swayed a little so Kuro stood behind him and placed his hand on his hip to keep him from falling off the boat. Something caught Mahiru's eyes and he pointed to a large tree. "Take me there."

"I will after you sit down. I don't want to fish you out of the river more than once." Kuro took his hand off his hip but he held his hand to help him keep his balance. After Mahiru sat down again, he steered the boat towards the tree. He wondered if Mahiru chose the tree at random because nothing about it seem special. But Mahiru excitedly walked towards it once he docked the boat.

"So, they're pomegranates." Mahiru mumbled as he stopped in front of the tree. It had to be the tallest trees he had ever seen and its branches were filled with fruit. From a distance, the pomegranates looked like rubies against the blue leaves and Mahiru was curious about the tree. He tried to pick one of the pomegranates but the branches were too high for him to reach.

"What are you doing, Mahiru?"

"What does it look like? I'm climbing." He answered him as he placed his feet on a gnarl and climbed up the tree. Black Cat transformed into a crow and followed him. Mahiru settled himself on a sturdy branch and grinned down at Kuro. He had a worried expression as he tilted his head. "Aren't you going to join me up here?"

"You're going to break your neck if you fall." Kuro pointed out. The inviting smile Mahiru had prompted him to follow him up the tree.

Mahiru could see that his arms were shaking a little as he held onto the tree trunk. Even when he was safe and sitting on the branch next to him, he still looked nervous. Kuro was almost like a small cat trapped in a tree. Mahiru had to smile because he was able to see a new side to him. He moved closer to him and reassured him.

"You don't have to look so scared Kuro. If you fall, I'll catch you so there's nothing for you to worry about." He created a large cloud beneath them. He appeared more relaxed and Mahiru was glad that he could help him. "You didn't need to join me up here if you weren't comfortable climbing. Didn't you climb trees like this when you were younger?"

"No," Kuro answered after a pause. He could see the confusion on Mahiru's face, so he explained. "I'm not afraid of heights but I'm not used to doing things like this. I can't remember the last time I climbed a tree. Even when I was just a kid, I was busy with my duties so I didn't have time to just play. Death doesn't take a break after all."

"Then we need to do this more often." Mahiru decided. He took a pomegranate and cut it open with a small knife. He picked a few of the seeds and held them out to Black Cat. The crow eagerly ate out of Mahiru hand and Kuro smiled at the two. "Pomegranates tree aren't this tall usually. We can see the bridge and your throne room from here."

"This is the first time I've seen my own forest from this angle." Kuro said.

"It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like your forest on Earth." He turned his gaze to Kuro. "You lived in this forest for so long that you probably became accustomed to it."

From the corner of his eyes, Kuro saw Mahiru carelessly lift a pomegranate seed to his lips. He instinctively hit the fruit out of his hands and immediately regretted it when Mahiru's eyes widened. A silence came between them for a moment and neither of them knew what to say.

Kuro was the first to speak. "I already told you that you can't eat food grown in the Forest of Ash. You'll be trapped here with me if you do. How can you help humans with your fire if you can't leave this forest?"

"I guess it slipped my mind." Mahiru whispered and looked down at the pomegranate on the ground. He was having so much fun with Kuro that he forgot the dangers within the forest. "Thank you, Kuro. All this work we're doing would be pointless over such a silly mistake. I'll be more careful."

"It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I didn't hurt you, did I?" Kuro took his hand to make sure that he hadn't bruised him in his haste. "What are you going to do out there without me? I'm pretty sure you'll run into a lot of danger without thinking things through. Even after you learn to control fire, make sure not to bite off more than you can chew."

"Kuro, why are you talking like we'll never see each other again after I leave the forest. I'm going to come back after I gift fire to the humans." Mahiru tilted his head at him in confusion. He could see the shock in Kuro's eyes. "We're married and this forest is my home now so, thinking simply, I'm going to return to your side. Anyways, your siblings would have a lot of questions if I just disappear."

"... Oh," Kuro didn't know what else to say. He was certain that Mahiru would leave his forest the first moment he could. His answer made him happy and confused at the same time. He scratched his cheek and said softly, "If you left… I would… Black Cat would really miss you!"

"... Will he be the only one?" Mahiru asked and he could feel his heart racing as he waited for his answer. He was disappointed when Kuro only gave him silence. What did he want Kuro to answer with? He would've liked him to say that he would miss him too but he was reminded that their marriage was merely a farce. To distract himself from his feelings, he petted Black Cat. "I would miss you two after I leave."

"How long do you think it would take to give fire to each country?" Kuro asked.

"Maybe eight months." Mahiru bit his lip. It was strange but thinking about leaving Kuro made him feel lonely despite how he was right next to him. Then a thought came to him and he turned to him with a bright smile. "How about you come with me? You're showing me this beautiful forest so I can repay you by showing you Earth."

"I don't know if I can go with you. Death doesn't take an eight month break." Kuro pointed out. He looked beyond the bridge to the raging storm. Tsubaki wasn't strong enough to force the storm into the Forest of Ash but Kuro was always aware of its presence. It was a constant reminder of the choice he made. Thinking of his brother, he worried about Mahiru because Tsubaki might target him once he learned that they were married.

"I can take my work with me." Kuro started slowly but Mahiru instantly looked at him with eager eyes. "I'll leave a shadow behind to hand out my judgments for me. It takes a lot of energy to maintain a shadow copy so don't yell at me if I'm more sluggish than usual during the trip. Black Cat can take us wherever you want."

"You can transform into anything, can't you? You're pretty special," Mahiru praised and it nodded proudly. Black Cat wanted to be praised more and transformed into a bear. The extra weight caused the branch to break. They all began to panic and Mahiru instinctively clung onto Kuro. He wrapped his arms around him in return and tried to protect Mahiru from the fall.

Neither of them were hurt because they fell onto the cloud he laid below them. Kuro groaned as he sat up to check that Mahiru wasn't hurt. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Mahiru smiled up at him. He blushed when he realized that he was sitting on Kuro's lap. He rushed to move off his lap but he stumbled a little and ended up falling onto his back. Kuro leaned over him with an exasperated expression. He picked a fluorescent leaf from his brown hair and noticed that his cheeks are red.

"Are you getting sick? You did have to use your fire a lot today." He gently placed his hand on his forehead to check his temperature. Mahiru's heart jumped at his simple touch but Kuro didn't seem to think anything of it. "Maybe we should take a break tomorrow if you're tired."

"You just want an excuse to sleep in tomorrow." Mahiru rolled his eyes and stood. "We should clean up this branch and head home. It's getting late."

Pretty long chapter this time. I was supposed to post this awhile ago but then my computer went to shit and I lost everything (my hard drive crashed and I need it replaced). Basically had to rewrite everything).

[swordliliesandebony-blog]

Thirty-One | Promptis B-Day Oneshot

[Everyone lives happily ever after AU because as much as I adore all of the soul-crushing goodness being posted for Noct’s birthday, I just wanna give him about 50 more of those than he got. ;^; ]

Pairing: Prompto/Noctis Warnings: End game spoilers, absolutely tooth-rotting fluff Summary: Prompto has always had this problem, where he is prone to get far more excited about whatever gift he’s giving than the recipient could ever hope to be.

[Read on Ao3]

Prompto has always had this problem, where he is prone to get far more excited about whatever gift he’s giving than the recipient could ever hope to be. Ten years of darkness hasn’t exactly tempered him, hasn’t done a damn thing to change that fact. When he’s giving the perfunctory knock at the door frame, he’s preparing to skip into the room more than step. He doesn’t wait for Noctis to invite him in, but he doesn’t really need to, either. Prompto has, after all, spent more time than not at his bedside, seeing him through the whole recovering-from-death thing.

It’s been fucking terrible.

Visions flash before his eyes still, when he sees Noctis all holed up in the bed. They’re visions painted a deep red, a shade that Prompto wasn’t previously aware, could feel so cold. Visions of gathering a lifeless body up in his arms, and visions that go all blurry, have a great tendency of flickering in and out, of striking when he least expects them. They haven’t subsided entirely, and there’s still a cold, empty sort of tingling that rolls through his limbs and down his spine in the footsteps before he can round the corner and see Noct. See him comfortably asleep or lounging bored or, more often in the past couple days, arguing with a nurse or doctor in favor of his freedom.

It’s not a hospital proper he’s been relegated to, but a sort of half-cocked infirmary stationed on at a far east wing of the citadel. It wasn’t designed to hold and heal men rising from the dead so much as it was to dole out antacids and bandages. Ignis says that it housed, at one point, a physician to the royal family. That was a whole lifetime ago though. Now, it houses people lucky to be alive, in its cots and in white coats alike. A decade of darkness does a hell of a lot to change a place like this.

Prompto doesn’t focus on that though, he doesn’t let any of it get to him. He’s all sunshine and smiles today, and it’s not even forced. Noctis is awake, looking properly grumpy even. That, Prompto has learned, is a good sign. There were a lot of days when he wasn’t awake and a lot more after that where he was little more than resigned, clearly miserable. Grumpy means he’s been fighting again, all annoyed by this whole, ‘bed rest after taking a dozen or so fatal wounds’ business. Grumpy is recovery. Prompto’s smile widens and there’s a little humming under his breath when he pushes and positions the wheelchair next to Noct’s bed.

“You look way too pleased with yourself,” Noct’s words are grumpy too, though his tone isn’t entirely so. He’s sat up in bed, which is another good sign. The blankets are all askew- telltale signs of another escape attempt- and really, Noct looks more like he’s had a nap than a brush with death. It’s been weeks now, more of them than Prompto has properly counted, so maybe it should be expected. It’s still reassuring though, to see him in better condition, if not better spirits, day by day. Most of the machines, the beeping monitors and hissing tubes and all that mess, have been gradually removed as well. If it weren’t for the greater scene of the room, the length of Noct’s hair and the scruff around his face, Prompto might even be able to mistake the scene for any morning that found Noct roused before noon.

“Noct, I am exactly the right amount of pleased with myself,” he’s making a bit of a show with positioning the chair now, eyeing Noct, his position, height and bed and taking proper consideration before locking the thing in place. This is enough to grab Nocts attention and, Prompto thinks, enough to even evoke a little spark of hope in his eye, “Prompto Argentum, at your service, making all your birthday dreams come true.”

There’s suspicion while Noct eyes him, then eyes the window, the clock, a calendar that hasn’t been accurate since before the Citadel was one of the only things standing in the city. It’s only fair, of course, that Noct would have no concept of the date. Hell, it’s fair enough if he doesn’t even care that it’s his birthday, Prompto thinks. Being relegated to a hospital bed, nothing but an overly enthusiastic best friend, an incredibly overworked advisor, and an increasingly exasperated shield to keep shifting company, probably doesn’t lend itself to a hell of a lot of excitement. Or a hell of a lot of concern about things like dates, even if they are birthdates.

“All of them,” Noctis repeats his words, all narrowed eyes and pointed emphasis. Prompto is ready to concede at once, but Noct is pushing himself a little bit more in bed, “so you’re actually busting me out of here?” and he asks the question with a sort of vitality, a bit of excitement that has become utterly foreign from his voice. Just that spark in his eyes, so unfamiliar by now, sends a jolt right through the center of Prompto’s chest. His smile can’t get much wider at this point, but if Prompto can get any brighter, he’s absolutely shining now.

“Damn right, I am,” his smile shines through his voice as well and Prompto swoops to tug away the scratchy little hospital blanket. Noct’s clothing is a bit of a mess here, old sweats pulled from storage, a remnant of times that were a hell of a lot easier on all of them. They fit in a baggy, ‘when you don’t eat for ten years, you go a bit lean’ sort of way. Prompto tries not to glance too much or too obviously at the curve of exposed hip or the flesh that peeks from the band, just a little lower than it has any right to. He can deal with those thoughts later. For the moment, he’s crossing the room, searching a neat pile- courtesy Ignis, no doubt- of clothing for a shirt. There might be something appealing about the whole battle scars and bandages look, but Prompto’s pretty sure you’re not meant to be wheeling the Chosen King, He Who Killed Death, through his palace half-naked, no matter how good he looks.

“Hope you’re not really expecting me to use that chair,” Noctis says with a fair bit of petulance in his voice. He’s arranged himself to sitting up with only a little bit of wincing, and he’s not having near the trouble Prompto might have anticipated in getting the shirt tugged over his head. Still, there are certain rules that he has been sworn to follow here, by doctors and by friends who admittedly know a lot more than he does about...well, just about everything, but never mind that just now. He tries to arrange his face in a proper amount of guilt all the same.

“You know how much I had to fight Iggy to make this happen? Just think of it as, like, valet or whatever.”

“Valet takes your car. This is the opposite of valet.”

“Noct, I’ve known you for, what, fifteen years? When have I ever given you the impression I have any idea what that actually is? I just mean, it’s luxury, or whatever,”  Noct laughs at him, shakes his head, and it’s enough that Prompto really does feel like there is a bit of light pumping back into them both. Recovery has been far from easy on Noctis, that much almost goes without saying. By any account, he should be dead. By Prompto’s own experience, the cold weight of body in his arms, he was dead. There are a million questions, ones none of them are sure how to answer, how to even ask. And even without the confusions, there’s been a hell of a lot of pain, from more than just a slew of new scars.

“I really don’t need this,” he protests, even as he’s scooting to the edge of the bed. Prompto almost believes him, too, but there’s a swift sort of trembling where Noct’s knees don’t quite support him and Prompto is sweeping in with a shoulder under Noct’s arm to guide him to the chair rather than the floor. There’s embarrassment there, total shame, something that Prompto absolutely pretends he doesn’t notice while he’s kicking the locks off from the wheels.

“Yeah, yeah, Mister I-Beat-Bazillion-Year-Old-Prophecies gotta show off, walking himself back to his quarters.”

“King I-Beat-Bazillion-Year-Old-Prophecies, thank you,” Prompto is the one to laugh this time, though he can hear the tilt toward it in Noct’s breath while he’s directing them, none too gracefully, from the makeshift private room, “and what do you mean, quarters? If you’re just dragging me to a different dusty old bed…”

“Hey, stop ruining the surprise,” Prompto gives the chair a little jostle, a rough corner turn to take them down a hallway that can be described only as endless. This feels good, it feels better than Prompto has in about as long as he can remember. Noctis surviving, or undying, or whatever the hell happened, was a miracle. There’s no denying that fact. Any of them surviving was a stark beating of the odds. But seeing him struggle and suffer in that bed, it’s left Prompto feeling hollowed out, strained, drained to an extent that made it seem a hell of a lot like his world hadn’t changed at all.

“You’re the one who said it, not my fault you can’t keep a secret for thirty seconds,” Noctis is shifting in the chair when he speaks, leaning an elbow over the back and looking up at Prompto. In all, it’s making it that much harder to control, and it’s a damn awkward position, with Noct’s face very nearly buried in Prompto’s chest.

“I’ve kept a secret for, like, a week now. We put a lot of effort into this, so you’d better be grateful, got it?” Prompt’s getting them into the elevator now, something that takes a bit more careful arranging than he was entirely ready to deal with, especially with Noct making a point to turn this whole excursion as difficult on him as possible. He can’t be frustrated though, not when it’s so clearly in good fun, not when it’s making him want to laugh, maybe give his best friend a smack at the back of the head.

“Not sure it counts as gratitude if you’re forcing me.”

“It totally does. Besides, you’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t like it. And it’s your birthday, so that’s like triple-stacked gratitude right there,” Prompto really is buzzing with excitement. There’s an almost constant fear in the back of his mind, even now, that he’s going to mess something up. Maybe Noctis will think the whole thing is dumb. Maybe he wants some time to himself, when he hasn’t had a moment of it since Talcott gathered him up all those weeks before, back in the darkness. Prompto likes to think he’s matured just a little bit in those ten years Noctis was away though, and it’s just a tiny bit easier to set his worries aside now, to focus on the positives. Noct being here, when they were all so certain he wouldn’t, is a pretty damn big positive. A birthday nobody had counted on, that’s a lot more important than whether or not the gift will go over as intended.

“Don’t see why we can’t just celebrate the way we used to,” Noctis grumbles this when they stand outside the door to their destination and it’s enough to make Prompto stop just a little bit short. It absolutely brings a flush to his face and his eyes pointedly away from Noctis, which evokes a much fuller burst of laughter, “oh my god, you’re blushing. C’mon, you got there right away, that means you were thinking it, too.”

“Was not,” Prompto snaps right back, but there’s a little crack in his voice that wins a lot more laughter. It’s a poor lie and he knows it, all vocal inconsistencies aside. Prompto hasn’t been thinking of much other than the way he and Noctis celebrated those couple birthdays back in high school. In honesty, they celebrated them a hell of a lot like they ‘celebrated’ any given day. All hands and tongues and carefree experimentation. Noct knows exactly why they can’t celebrate that way here. Maybe he doesn’t know about the painful bit of stabbing between Prompto’s ribs at the thought, but he probably doesn’t need to. It had always meant more, after all, to him. There had always been that secondary undercurrent of emotion. Hell, maybe the emotion had been the primary for Prompto all that time. It didn’t matter then though and it definitely doesn’t matter now.

“Fine, fine, I see how it is. Ten years pass and suddenly you don’t like me any more. I get it. Come on, show me what you did get me, then,” Noctis is joking, and that much is clear. On one hand, Prompto really does appreciate it. Everything about Noctis is like stepping into the past at this point. He pulled it all together so easily, so magnificently when they were facing the end. It had felt a hell of a lot like he had been there all along, growing and maturing at their sides. But when it comes down to it, when he’s here and he’s himself, not standing up to inescapable death? He’s still twenty years old, facing a different sort of impossible burden, clinging to whatever bit of carefree youth hasn’t slipped between his fingers. It’s heartbreaking in so many ways, but it’s refreshing in a million more. It makes Prompto feel like those ten years weren’t stolen away from either of them, in a sense.

On the other hand, though, it hurts. It hurts a hell of a lot, and Noctis must have some awareness of that fact. He knew how much it destroyed Prompto, having to say goodbye to the little non-relationship they had formed in their youth. He must have seen all the air go out of him, when he admitted that his engagement had been made, when he pleaded that he come along on that doomed trip. Certainly, he can guess that it still itches at the back of Prompto’s mind now. He couldn’t have missed that Prompto was still, though he never wanted to admit it in the first place, madly fucking in love with him through all those nights with the four of them on the road together.

Prompto doesn’t bring any of that up though. He simply turns them around, so he can unlock the door and pull Noctis inside. Distraction is the key here, turning Noct’s attention away from the little teases that had come so unexpectedly. There’s plenty, Prompto thinks, to be distracted by. He and Ignis and Gladio all came together to put a lot of work into such a dumb little birthday gift, one that didn’t require actually trying to track down some new material good in a world just barely crawling back to its feet.

It is, in fact, the exact opposite. The initial cleaning up of the old royal quarters was a nightmare and a half. It had been left in a sort of disarray and disrepair that was nothing short of tragic. Ardyn, from what they could see, hadn’t deigned to put his own personal touches on, but it was only a small relief. Beneath all the layers of dust and decay, the natural marks of a living space not lived in for a great many years, were memories that none of them were equipped to sort through. Remnants of Regis, of Noctis himself, from a time long before even their trip. It was a process of packing all that away, salvaging what they could, playing mix and match from other parts of the Citadel over what they couldn’t.

After that, Prompto was able to spring into his own sort of action. Ignis, bless him, knew where to find so many of Noct’s old possessions in storage. He warned that it may be a bad idea, though Prompto pushed it all away, and really, he’s glad in the end. The place is set up all too much like it belongs to a teenager. There are shelves of games and stacks of comics, figures and collectables to whatever dumb show he and Prompto decided they were going to become obsessed with at the time. There are photos, too. Ones that sit in frames, of lifetimes passed about a hundred times over, with a Noct no longer recognizable, with his father, with Ignis and Gladio and even Prompto occasionally. And there’s an album, tucked away for later, with the memories of their trip, before it all went to hell.

Noctis doesn’t react at first, not in words. He reaches back himself to put brakes on the chair, and his hands grip white-knuckled to the armrests as he hoists himself up. Prompto is afraid he’ll try to force himself too much, but Noctis leans into him immediately when he offers out an arm. There’s a moment where they stand there, Noct braced over his shoulder, Prompto’s grasp tight around his waist, and neither of them say anything. Prompto’s heart is thumping, nerves and expectation and hope all at once.

“You did all this?” Noct’s voice is quiet, and Prompto is worried for a split second. It’s a different sort of quiet, though, than the one he’s become accustomed to through those weeks of bed-bound recovery. There’s a hint of wonder, and Prompto wants to think even a bit of appreciation in those brief words. Prompto offers just a little nudge, a tilting of his head against Noct’s arm.

“Some of it. Iggy and Gladio helped cleaning and getting everything out of storage. I thought it’d be nice to feel like you’re actually coming home, though. Y’know, instead of some dusty old room. I know it’s not really-”

“-it’s perfect, Prom,” all of Prompto’s rambling is cut off. There’s something there, in the little abbreviation of his name, in the strange, slightly rough quality to Noct’s voice. It makes his throat tighten and his breath catch and there’s a moment where he forgets he needs to move too when Noct begins making his way toward the sofa. Realistically, a lot of the stuff does them little good at just this moment. Electricity is being restored to the city, but it’s inconsistent at best, and using generators to run some old video games is probably on the wrong side of allowable. But it’s something. And when they make their way over, so Noct can sit, so he can tug Prompto down beside him, it still feels like it was the right choice.

They sit there in silence while Noctis takes it all in. Not for a moment does his arm move from where it’s draped over Prompto’s shoulder, and Prompto doesn’t think of pulling it from the warm, comfortable spot around Noct’s waist. It’s a good silence It’s the kind that was always so comfortable for them when they were younger. The kind that is so vastly preferable to a silence of absence that stretched so many years now.

“Happy birthday, Noct. I’m really-” but Prompto stops the statement abruptly, given no choice in the matter. Because Noct is moving, a swift little shift, a hand on Prompto’s cheek, then cupping his head, and then their lips are together and god damn Prompto swears he can still recall that taste over so many years. If the right thing to do is pull away, scold, Prompto doesn’t care. He leans in, turns himself, squeezes the hand at Noct’s waist and brings one to brush back his hair. Everything considered it’s a short kiss, one that’s a little bit awkward, halting, the product of a skill unused for a solid decade. It’s the best kiss Prompto’s ever fucking had.

“I meant it, you know. What I said in the hall,” Noct’s voice is still rough and his eyes are wet. There’s a quality of uncertainty there that grabs at Prompto’s pounding heart, “I never stopped thinking about it. About us. If you’re really trying to fulfill birthday wishes…” he lets his voice trail off and his eyes are pure expectation, hope and concern and searching at Prompto’s.

“Noct. You’re the king. We can’t,” Prompto tries to be firm, but he’s not pulling away and Noctis isn’t either and that makes it a whole lot harder have any conviction here. A whole lot harder still, because it’s almost magnetic, the way he’s drawn to kissing Noctis again, to tugging his teeth in a light gesture at his lower lip, slipping his tongue for another brief taste.

“We couldn’t before, either, but it didn’t really stop us,” Noctis is speaking with far more assurance than Prompto had managed and it makes Prompto wonder if, just maybe, he’s been considering this conversation. He tries to drive the thought from his mind, but he can’t. He can’t look away or pull away and he can’t help but wonder.

“I’m pretty sure the world isn’t gonna be happy with you gettin’ all cozy with some Niff.”

“Good thing you’re a Lucian, then,” Noct is firm yet again, fingers tracing Prompto’s cheek, working through his hair, “I think the world can deal with it, since I went and died for them. Besides, I thought I told you, I’m done with all that stupid stuff. The borders and countries and the fighting. Enough of that. You didn’t forget, did you? Pretty sure you signed on to help.”

“Of course I didn’t forget. I’m with you, no matter what, Noct,” Prompto manages to sound just a touch indignant, enough that it seems to make Noctis smile. Still, his mind is racing, reeling, trying to grasp to some logic. Because this is impossible, this is more than impossible. This is one of those moments that scare him, that make him think he’s dreaming, has been dreaming for a really long time.

“You love me, right? I mean, you did back then,” the question gives Prompto pause, makes his heart lurch in his chest. There were understandings when they were young, when they were playing at all of this. There were words they didn’t say, even if they lived by them. There were subjects they didn’t breech. Prompto wants to pretend this is some great stretch, some little bit of arrogance, but the truth is? There was never a question as to his feelings back then. He showed them at every possible opportunity. It would have been more shocking for Noct not to know.

“Yeah. Obviously,” Prompto says, and it’s a bit of a shy admission, a guilty one. As if he’s been caught doing something absolutely improper, unallowed. In a way, he really has.

“Well, I still love you, too. So maybe you should stop worrying for once and just trust me. It’s my birthday so you can’t say no,” Noctis says it all quickly, firmly, leaving little room for discussion. Then again, though, Prompto doesn’t know that he wants to discuss it, not right now at least. His fingers are trembling against Noct’s skin cheek, his other hand near a death grip on his hip. Breathing is something that takes a bit of effort to recall just how to do. But he smiles and he nods.

“Guess you have a point. Can’t say no on your birthday,” they’re words that tremble just as much as the rest of him, but that’s okay. Noct is leaning in again, drawing Prompto closer, kissing him with more confidence, kissing him in a way that stretches and lingers and makes Prompto think that, just maybe, there are a few more impossible things Noct can manage to accomplish.