#i would love to be able to participate in the joys of life on my own terms

[aw-tysm]

If an autistic wants a cure for their autism or treatment options for their symptoms then they are perfectly within their rights to want that.

Autism can be an incredibly disabling disorder/condition. We should not be judging others for wanting to not have to experience that.

I'm not going to judge any autistic for wanting a cure or treatment options for themselves.

[yourlittlebunnyy]

snow - azriel x reader

main masterlist azriel masterlist

kallias version

summary: Lover, wife, mate. Until he loses you.

warnings: death, happy but not very happy ending;)

w/c: 3.5k

a/n: this fic is fully inspired by "snow" by maxence fermine.

enjoy!

That evening, over a glass of good wine given to him by his uncle Rhysand, and with his other half, your son said, “I don't even remember what she looked like in the face.” And he laughed chasing away the negativity of the situation.

It was true. He no longer remembered your face. But you remember - no, you observe - his from the day you left. He didn't have you beside him, but you were always there, revelling in his victories and grieving over his sorrows.

That night you visited him in his sleep. He did not recognize you.

“My son.” You greeted him. You were on a flowery meadow. He reciprocated, but showed no signs of affection. You were little more than a stranger to him.

You shared blood. You had carried him for ten months. You had nurtured and changed him for two years. But to him, you were nothing.

“My father never told me anything about you.” He said it as if to justify his distance.

But you understand it, you always understand.

You were as close to your child as you were to Azriel, your beloved. You understood and accepted and respected his grief. You understood and accepted and respected being gone from the world all of a sudden. Your memory kept alive only by your mate, quietly and intimately. And you were fine with that.

“Would you like to know?” You asked him at that point. Your arms quivered for contact. Your son nodded.

And so, your story began.

“I would never have seen the light if my love for him had not been there to enlighten me. And he would never have seen it if it were not for me.” The Fae snorted a laugh, interrupting you.

“That's impossible.”

“Why do you say that?” You questioned.

“I know my father. A female would never be able to reduce him like that. He is a warrior.” Hurt, you shifted your gaze to the lush field in front of you.

“Then you don't know your father as well as you think, honey. That's all right, it's a long story. It would have bored you anyway.”

“No.” He begged, surprising you and himself. “Please, tell.”

“Our story goes back centuries. We were about your age.” You took a deep breath, and dove into the memories. “It all began magically. One winter day, while returning from the battle against Hybern, he fell in love with me. I was very different from the kind of females he was used to. At that time he was the Spy Master of the Night Court. He had participated in a very violent war that had ended in a brilliant, beautiful and unpredictable victory. So that he came back as a victor. Triumphant but wounded. A soldier had injured his best friend, your uncle, Cassian. Killed Amren. Then Rhysand. He had been wounded, too. In the wings. When he returned he still had the senses of that scene: the taste of blood and mud everywhere in his mouth, the memory of hatred painted in Hybern's face, the near-death experience. But it was the age of honor. Those were the joys of war. One had to die or return wounded to be considered victorious.

However, your father never forgot that battle. He could never forget the sight of his family one step away from defeat, from death. It was the most horrible thing he had ever experienced in his entire life. And believe me, honey, your father saw a lot of things. When he returned, he fainted on his bed. His family took him for dead and he lay on that bed for three days, still soiled with the marks of war. It was your aunt, Feyre, who found him, since she was worried about him.

He settled down, but for several days he was shaken. There was still fear in his eyes. Rhysand thanked him for his help, and Azriel was proud, but his pride still remained clouded by sorrow for what he had experienced. Finally, having recovered his energy, he came to a conclusion. He did not want to fight anymore, and not so much because of the wound that had been inflicted on him - he had suffered far worse during his life - but out of sheer disgust with war. He, who had spent his entire life killing, realized that he no longer had any desire to kill.

He therefore left the Wind House and set out on the streets of my beloved Velaris. And it was there, on his walk, that the miracle took place.

Crippled by the cold, at the end of his strength, with the horror of war still in his eyes, alone in the thick of the darkness and the tragedy he had just experienced, alone in the abyss of winter, alone with the vertigo of his loneliness, alone in his silence, where he should have died a hundred times of cold, hunger, fatigue, disappointment and exhaustion, he survived. He survived because what he saw that day, that thing, that extraordinary thing that also came from the other side of reality, no doubt to compensate the horror, that sublime and beautiful thing was the most sublime and beautiful image he had ever been allowed to see in his entire life. That image was me. And he could no longer forget me.

What he saw was me, at the time a young female, balancing on a rope. I felt as light as a bird, felt as graceful as a squirrel as I performed above the silvery river of Velaris. I was sixty feet above the ground. More than walking the wire I was floating in the air as if by magic. I was gliding faintly in the blue up there, standing on my invisible wire, the barbell in my hands. I could have been mistaken for an angel.

Your father slowly approached the river, and my beauty captivated him. He then told me that it was the first time he had seen a female from another Continent in Velaris. I seemed to fly, so, intrigued he advanced again. I was now perfectly above him. A dense crowd had gathered on the shore to witness my strange apparition. He approached an old man and, not taking his eyes off me, asked him who I was. I do not know exactly what he answered him, but from that moment he never stopped looking for me.

I was a funambulist, and my life followed only one line. Straight.

I was from Vallahan, a place far away. They called me Snow. I was nicknamed so because I had skin of glass, eyes of ice, and hair of gold. When I darted through the air I looked as light as a snowflake.

This is how I had begun. One day, while I was still a child, my path had crossed that of a traveling circus. Stunned, I had discovered the possibility of daydreaming. Heedless of the dangers, I had decided to make it my business. I had started with a tightrope stretched a few inches off the ground. Then, little by little, I had gone higher and higher in both height and mastery of my art. And so I became one of the first female funambulists. Up on the tightrope, I never came down again.

I became one for the love of balance. I, whose life unfolded like a twisty thread, excelled in the subtle and treacherous art of doing evolutions on a tightrope. I never felt as comfortable as when I walked on a wire a thousand feet above the ground. Straight ahead of me. Without ever deviating a single millimeter off course. It was my destiny. To advance step by step. From one end of life to the other.

My feats had conquered all of Velaris. By the age of twenty, I had already traveled more than a hundred kilometers on my tightrope, often risking my life. I had stretched my wire between two tall buildings in the Rainbow and balanced several hours above the city, I was like a swan made of wind, snow and silence. Then I had repeated my feats at every place in the Court of Night, each time defying the laws of balance.

I was no mere funambulist. I was proceeding through the air as if by magic. Looking at me so far up there, my body standing upright in the sky like a white flame and my golden hair caressed by the wind, I would have been told that I belonged to heaven. Because for me actually the hardest thing was not keeping myself balanced, or even mastering my fear, much less walking that endless tightrope. The hardest thing was not to turn into a snowflake.

By now I was being claimed in every corner of the Court. I even went to the Court of Nightmares. Then, almost without realizing it, I got as far as the Illyrian Steppes, where your father was ecstatic to watch me. Never before had an artist performed before the Illyrian. And Azriel looked at me and already loved me. In his eyes I was no mere funambulist. I was Snow, and I represented all the beauty of art. When I had finished my performance with the tightrope, and returned to the ground, he could not restrain the urge to approach me. He stepped forward and, in doing so, discovered the fineness of my features, the design of my mouth, the line of my eyebrows, and knew instantly that he could never forget my face. He looked into my eyes, and in turn I squared him. No words were spoken, and that was all we needed. I smiled at him, and in that he lost his soul. He knelt before me and said, “I have been looking for you, mate.”

I, on the other hand, was looking for no one. But his gesture seemed to me of such beauty that I delighted in it. And I accepted the bond. We got married, even. The first years passed happily. A happy event solidified our bond: you. You possessed my features, but your father's strength, darling. Our life was one of peace and silence. Gradually I was settling more and more into this Court. Sometimes I felt homesick for Vallahan, but I never complained about it.

What I missed most of all was my job as a funambulist. One night I dreamed of flying again. The next day, waking up, I thought about the dream again. Then I thought no more about it. The cold weather came. Then spring again. You developed in the ecstasy of light. I was happy. In one hand I held your father's heart and in the other my own, which at the same time I offered to you. And that fragile balance served to keep me balanced on the edge of happiness. But one day that balance became so fragile that it broke. One day the affection you offered me was no longer enough to make me happy. I cruelly missed the life in the air. I thirsted again for vertigo, for thrills, for conquest. I thought only of becoming a funambulist again. I asked Azriel to arrange one last performance. I wanted to stretch a rope from mountain to mountain in the heart of the Steppes.

Surely your father esteemed my desire as foolish, deeming it senseless to endanger my life and the life...of your sister.

But, like a true male, he bowed before me and consented. He had two steel ropes come from the Court of the Day. Then he sent two helpers to secure the longest cable between the two highest peaks.

I slipped the barbell out of my old case, put on my ballerina shoes, and practiced for hours in the garden, passing small mountains of flowers and a pond where yellow water lilies floated. Azriel, on the other hand, never tired of watching me. I was a funambulist without any rival.

On that thread I was happy, free and grateful. I thanked the Mother every day for giving me your father. I had blond hair. I had clear eyes. And I was walking on air.

The performance we stared at for the first few days of summer, my belly barely prominent. A crowd gathered from all over the Court to witness my feats. Lucien and Elain, who at the time had just become High Lords, also came.

When I placed my feet on the cable, the crowd rumbled. Up there, I was so high that those who only looked at me felt dizzy; I looked like a white dot in space, a snowflake in the immensity of the sky.

Armed with my barbell, for more than half an hour I performed high above the ground, slowly approaching the opposite side of the mountain. Below, they were holding their breath. One false step and it was certain death. But I, perfectly mastering my art, advanced inexorably. Step by step. Blow after blow. Silence after silence. From vertigo to vertigo. And your father watched as I danced caressed by his shadows in contrast to my white skin, silently praying for me, for his daughter. For your sister. I never stumbled.

It was the wire that broke. Definitely poorly secured, the cable came off the rock and plunged me into a thousand-foot drop. Me, the barbell and my unborn daughter.

Those who saw me disappear there, in the heart of the Steppes, took me for a bird falling from the sky. And my body was never found again.

I, Snow, became snow and sleep in its whiteness.

Your father never recovered from the loss of me, his mate. He killed the two clumsy helpers with cruelty, hatred and the thirst for revenge commanded his movements. Your uncle allowed him to do so without punishing him. But Azriel felt neither joy nor pity in the act. Killing them would not bring me back to life. He saw only one thing: his own grief. He knew only one thing: that never again would he find the woman he had loved. Never again would he see his Snow again. Never again would he see my beauty again.

Back in our house, now devoid of any joy, he threw away the Illyrian sword with which he had killed the two males. He would never kill again in his life, he promised himself. He would throw himself into pain. In the face of our daughter who died that day with me, in which my own face was reflected, he would weep every tear in his body. There was only one last gift left, one last thing that held him to the world of the living: you.

He sank so deep into his grief that he went blind. Your father accepted it, you know. It doesn't really bother him, he is no longer a warrior. He thinks the Mother no longer saw any sense in keeping his sight, if he wouldn't see me anyway.

I have always been close to him. I have always been close to you, my son. As much as my condition allows me to be.

I have never been given a final farewell. In your house my name is like a curse: it is never spoken and disaster should it be done. Therefore, I have come here, in a dream to you, for one last request. I want to be buried with your father. Come to me.” And you showed him where all that time you were hiding.

“Why didn't you say that before?”

“Because your father would not have been able to go on, seeing my face every day.”

As you spoke, you looked lost in the void, your eyes still veiled by the breath of the dream. The story had been long and paplit. Coming back to reality was difficult. Your son merely smiled and nodded at you, his own eyes wet with tears.

The next day he went to Azriel, who was relaxing by the silver river. He asked him to close his eyes and imagine the whiteness.

“I know where your Snow is.”

At these words, Azriel's face froze. Still with his dead gaze turned toward the river, he said, “Who are you to know this? No one knows where she is. The mountain swallowed her up. A long time ago.”

“That's false. The mountain digested her and returned her body. She is there, under the ice, a meter from the surface. She is there, in a glass coffin, intact and as beautiful as when you met her. In her womb she still holds the fruit of your love. I swear to you that I know where she is. She showed it to me in a dream. If you wish, I can lead you to her.”

Azriel understood that your son was telling the truth, and he could not hold back a tear. “I knew that one day we would meet again. But I did not expect that day to come so late in my life.” He turned to the younger Fae and laid a hand on his shoulder. “And to say that since she died ... since she died I've been looking everywhere for her. I've been looking for her everywhere. In every corner of this Court. In every corner of my mind. In every, single, dream. And now that I can finally see her, I will not see her.”

The next day, after the usual practice, your son asked your mate, “Have you thought about my proposal? When do you want me to take you there?”

Azriel sighed, then replied in a sad voice, “My son. This trip would be useless. I know you speak the truth, but what good would it do for an old blind man to find the grave of a dead lady? Wherever she is, my mate is at peace. May her isolation be respected for eternity.”

“No, father. She told me. Her last request was to be found. To be buried with you.” Azriel disappeared into his garden, leaving his son to be crushed by the weight of his own words.

A month passed. Your son and husband no longer spoke of you. They did not even dare to mention it. Every day, the younger Fae went to Azriel to keep him company, but in the end the two always ended up in oppressive silence. It was as if you were invisible.

But then one morning, standing on the edge of the river in Velaris, Azriel said to your son, “Tomorrow we will visit your mother.” Both of them did not answer, they just smiled.

They left at dawn. Your son guided Azriel with the sound of his footsteps. Every time he offered him a hand to help him over some steeper or treacherous passage, and your husband refused it and punctually overcame the obstacle without the need for help. He may have forgotten that he had been a warrior, but his muscles had not.

At night they slept in the villages. When, upon entering a village, Azriel uttered his name and declared where he was from, the doors opened before him as if by magic. The entire Night Court seemed to know his old reputation. Your son was astonished.

And he understood how fortunate he had been to be able to follow the teaching of such a father.

The journey was long, of unceasing whiteness. White as the cherry blossoms. White like the silence that accompanied the two wayfarers.

Finally, one morning, the first mountain peaks appeared. Their road began to climb toward the sky and its purity. They were the hardest hours. Your beloved began to show signs of fatigue, but your son pretended not to, since they were no longer very far from you. Azriel found the strength to go on only because of you. The journey was coming to an end.

When your son glimpsed the place shown to him in his dream, he trembled with excitement. “Dad!” He shouted. “I found it!” The young man rushed under a rock where, in your dream, you showed yourself lying. He had a cry of surprise.

“What is it?” Azriel asked, trepidatiously. “Has Snow disappeared forever? Has there been an avalanche?”

“No.” He said then. “Far from it. She is different from how she showed herself to me. Snow is here, but her body is closer. It is two or three centimeters from the veil of ice. I can almost touch it. It's as if she has prepared for our arrival.”

You were there. You, creature so beautiful, so naked, so blond, as fragile as in the dream. You were dead. Yet you seemed alive. You were resting under the ice. And soon you would emerge from your grave.

You were not really naked. Your funambulist's dress had been so long under the ice that the weave of the fabric had become almost transparent. And your body so delicate and your skin so diaphanous seemed even more fragile. So transparent were you that your son could glimpse your sweet pregnant womb. He threw himself on all fours and scratched at the ice with his nails. Finally you were there.

Your son grabbed Azriel's hand and placed it on your face. And you, watching the scene crouching beside the two males, could almost feel your mate's gentle caress on your skin. You breathed in that touch.

“Can you feel her face? Do you feel her skin?” Azriel's hand stroked your cheek again. He was blind. But he did not need his eyes to recognize the lines of your face. And yours was so well preserved that a simple touch with his fingertips on your lips turned blue was all he needed.

“It really is her. She is my Snow. You have never lied to me.” He fell to his knees before you and wept hot tears warming your face. He could neither see nor feel you, yet you laid a hand on his shoulder. You could not feel him under your fingers. But you were fine with that. It was okay even just that. Just seeing him.

Azriel never descended from the mountain. He lay down on the ice beside you and closed his eyes.

Your son tried to talk him out of it by saying it was madness, that it was too cold to stay there. But your mate answered him in a serene voice, “Leave me alone. I have found my place. For eternity.”

He fell asleep beside your intact body, one hand resting on your womb.

He died letting the whiteness of the world overcome him. He was happy. At the height of your heart.

[crazysaru99]

LMK fic au idea

Welp im not good writing fic and my ideas are riots

@quitealotofsodapop and I made an au about the Monkey King's children: Paramita, Sun Luzhen, Yuebei Xing, Jidu and Luohou.

This happens once Wukong finishes his journey and returns home, helping with the reconstruction of the island, mainly because he starts to feel lonely especially for what happened with his partner Macaque. And one of the things he always wanted once the war was over is to be able to have a family with his beloved but this couldn't happen so he will do it with his own hands in the style of Nuwa, he would create clay eggs and even find a hidden one and from there his children would be born.

Paramita is the firstborn and heir to the throne of the kingdom of the mountain of fruits and flowers and Alolai being the serious of all his brothers and the most elegant of them, he has an elegance that his father lacks but that will not make him less lethal on the battlefield; he is the general of the kingdom's army and has on his shoulders the expectations of the kingdom as crown prince.

Sun Luzhen in his canon is Wukong's twin brother who had taken so long to hatch, and the second to be born when he was found, the king had adopted him as his own son, He has an energetic personality like a showman, He is now a version of Porty light, he is a professional musician and has worked in various musical genres, even in large industries making soundtracks for various movies or video games under an alias.

Yuebei Xing, the only daughter of the monkey king, is daddy's little princess, with a tough character and a very bad temper, with an enormous and muscular build that makes her completely intimidating, but under the dark shell she is a monkey who loves her family and her brothers, she was born with a cleft lip of which she only has a scar, she is a renowned paleontologist in her field who loves her job, she has always loved digging up bones since she was little.

Jidu and Luohou they are mischievous twins who like to cause trouble like their older brother Luzhen, who love theater like Macaque and dedicate their life to that art. Jidu is a comedian in various stand-up comedy shows while Luohou is an actor in musicals and has participated in many.

Jidu

Grande Caeza de pichi

Luohou

King Paramita, Jidu and Luohou desing based in @wuzhiqi-enj0yer

Wukong wanted to experience the possibility of having children by modeling in clay that he created 4 eggs, by the time he found the stone egg of Luzhen he found that the Paramita egg had already hatched and in time only the eggs of the others would hatch turning Wukong into a tired father of 5 energetic children.

Rumors of his existence abounded, especially the fact that Paramita was the son of Princess Iron Fan, which was never lacking (Paramita could never find the author of that aberration in the book and if he had, he would have pulverized it). This rumor was born because he and Red Son WERE childhood friends and a possible marriage union between them was expected (Like Odette and Derek in The Swan Princess). Now their parents wanted them to marry for love like they did, but then the thing at the mountain happened and they lost contact.

Paramita as a cub: "This is my best friend Red. When we grow up, we'll get married and have an island to ourselves!" :3

But that is if the day they meet again they shout with joy and hug each other like little kids who haven't seen each other all summer.

The rumors of the monkey king's children grew to be illustrated in the non-canonical sequels of the journey to the west and at that time they were just children, but due to the isolation of the monkey king the rumors of them became a myth until their existence was doubted, making the shadow of his father grow…

MK would meet the children of the monkey king in ''A hero is born'' is when he lands on the beach of Huaguoshan Island and they were the monkeys in disguise (Headcanon the common monkeys are glamours of yao monkeys)

Making them lose their glamour and scare MK even more until Paramita has to take control of the situation by lining everyone up.

After the initial scare MK asks them to take him to the monkey king and leave them alone; Now you might be wondering why the monkey king would need a successor? Simple, because Wukong has empty nest syndrome.

For the events of season two Paramita and his brothers will be in charge of MK's training so he wouldn't be so far behind and if they would be aware of LBD.

When MKang finds out about their existence it will be at the end of this same season especially when Pigsy is yelling at Wukong and oh boy, if there is something that Paramita does NOT tolerate at all is that HIS FATHER IS INSULTED (He's a daddy's boy)

Pigsy: You're supposed to be his mentor! Paramita: "Excusr me!? He raised five children as a single parent!" HE IS ANYTHING BUT A LAZY MAN WHO DOES NOTHING, DAMN SERVANT!!!

Paramita was millimeters away from beating Pigsy up, he will defend his father's honor knowing how introverted he is and will let that insult pass (He will fight even in mud to prove his point), his brothers would be pulling him to avoid the chef's announced death, even Yuebei has a hard time doing it being the strongest of all her brothers.

And that would be all c:

EDIT: And now the au called ''Wuxing au''

[poetrysmackdown]

THE FINAL SMACKDOWN.

Big congratulations to "The Two-Headed Calf" for a solid win over "How to Be a Dog" (and to our Third Place competitor, "Wild Geese")!

Thank you to all who participated. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you guys did as well! I've said it before but I had no idea this would get as big as it did, and it's been truly heartening to see this many people engaging with poetry and getting excited about it. I'm personally grateful to all the folks I got the chance to discuss poems with, and everyone who challenged me to see these poems in a new light. Whether you were introduced to new poems or reunited with old ones, whether you voted with the majority or against it, I hope you got something out of this as well.

As promised, here is the grand stats spreadsheet. The smackdown with the highest turnout was the semifinal matchup "The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin vs. "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver with 17,449 votes! In second place, Round 1: "Poem" by Langston Hughes vs. "A Meeting" by Wendell Berry with 16,690 votes.

Unfortunately my real-life responsibilities have hit me like a truck and I don't have time to do a whole post dedicated to reviewing more of it, but I hope y'all might share any insights you have below! I also included the word count stats on the "summary" page, as suggested in this ask by @puddinginthemix. Nevertheless, they don't seem to demonstrate a concrete trend in one direction or the other—the mean word count difference technically gives a slight edge to longer poems in competition, but with such an insane standard deviation as to render the whole thing silly.

On the topic of a sequel.

After some deliberation, I've decided I would love to do another one of these focusing on poems that are lesser-known on Tumblr! In a perfect world I would just jump right in again, but it's quickly becoming clear to me that I will not have time to sort through/pair submissions and then run the thing while balancing work and school in the upcoming semester. With that in mind, my plan is to run it over the winter holidays so I'm able to give it more of my attention. That said, I've already made the submission form, and I'm tempted to release that ASAP so that I can use any downtime in the fall to read, review, and structure things thoughtfully. I also just figure it'll get a higher volume of submissions if I release it now. I know it's probably not ideal, but would people be cool with me opening submissions earlier, even if it means there'll be a significant time gap between submission and competition? If so, I'll get that out no later than Tuesday, and likely keep it open for a few weeks (unless it gets, like, seriously swamped lol).

Lastly, I've still got some asks I need to get through.....they're still on my mind. I'll do my best to respond to everyone within the next week!

Thank you again to everyone who participated, it's been such a joy!

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Can I ask about homicidal Liu, Sully and Jason with a reader who never learned to read or write?

It made more sense in my mind to put Liu and Sully together in this one, I hope that's alright

Liu/Sully:

I think it's fitting in this case that Liu assists you because as one of the designated older brothers in the mansion, he did help tutor some of the younger creeps who didn't get to finish their schooling before coming to the mansion. Liu is an excellent teacher, and he's very patient in helping you to learn how to do things. I feel like he'd set time aside for you every day so that he could watch over you and help you further your skills. Sully is not as good of a teacher as Liu, but he still tries his best to help you with anything he can. I feel like he would prefer to do the writing exercises with you, so you can just watch what he does and learn from him. He's not good with instructing or general teaching, but he can at least participate with you in a way like that. He does check in with you whenever he's the one out to see how you're progressing, and he is always proud of you and encourages you. I think it's also a little bit of a nervous thing for Sully, as in my canon Sully was developed as a coping mechanism for Liu when their mother would abuse him, more specifically in her "teaching" Liu, so he just likes to quietly watch over you, even though he knows you won't have to go through that. Liu is always very kind when he teaches you, and he always makes sure to go at your own pace and provide rewards when you make a lot of progress. He also doesn't want you to ever have to be in a situation like he was, and so he makes sure you're actually enjoying yourself when you learn to read or write from him, instead of feeling like it's something you're forced to do.

Jason:

Jason is actually incredibly prepared for this. In my canon, Jason was originally crafted as a life-size mechanical toy helper in the Overworld to help children in toy shops and one of his tasks actually happened to be helping children with their learning. Of course, the situation is much different as you're both adults, and you're not just going to spend like 30 minutes with him and that be it, but nonetheless, he is more than happy to help you. Like Liu, he'd set aside a chunk of time every day so that he could help you, and he's actually a much better teacher than one might originally assume. Whenever he's helped anyone else he's always rigid and strict, but his love for you brings out his softer side, and he's very sweet and gentle as he teaches you. I can see him literally going all out and making a lesson plan and getting you a bunch of helpful books and essentially becoming an actual teacher, because he loves you so much and he wants to help you in any way that he can. It gives him a reason to spend more time with you, and so he's more than happy to assist you in learning anything that he can, it brings him a lot of joy to see you improving and taking his lessons seriously, it makes him all mushy inside and happy to feel like he has a purpose with you. He also rewards you for any progress you make, and he praises you constantly for how well you're doing, always saying he's so lucky to have you and to be able to be here to help you with this. You'll be well taken care of under Jason's tutoring, with his good teaching and constant affection during lessons.

[skzoologist]

A concerning concert

word count: ~2.8k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

summary: It's hard to stand up once life beat you down to the ground.

a/n: I've spared Bae from this for more than a year now, so enjoy the angsty lore drop. There will be more of course, in due time.

Back to the masterlist

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Bae was nervous, to put it lightly. His mind was dull, words and thoughts bouncing around in his head with such speed that none could successfully stick for long. His ears rang, and it felt like his stomach wanted to crawl out of his throat to live an independent life far away in another country.

Not to mention the scar that viciously throbbed on his head, making him nearly see dark spots from the force every few seconds.

“You're okay, Hyung.”

It was Hyunjin’s soft voice that broke him out of his spiralling thoughts, a pair of strong arms caging him against the younger's firm chest. He allowed Hyunjin to do whatever the male wanted to, that gentle hold on him grounding his much too loud mind. Somehow the tall boy had always known when to seek him out, when to comfort him in his time of need without any actual words.

He could feel his own heart beating a mile a minute, and he knew his dongsaeng had noticed it too; there was a subtle shift in that hold on his crumbling form as Hyunjin nearly fused them together. It was as if the younger wanted to become his spine itself, to support his entire weight with his own force alone and that action spoke louder than any word ever could.

No other sentences were exchanged between the two as they just stood there, Bae's own arms covering Hyunjin's in silent gratitude, eyes watching the blinding lights and vast stage before them. His frenzied heart was slowly calming down, and he wasn't feeling like he wanted to empty his stomach anymore. His head still hurt and his anxiety was through the roof, but he could feel the excitement of performing again after so long starting to take root in his chest again.

It felt freeing, despite the metaphorical chains he could still feel around his limbs.

With another pat on the younger’s arms he peeled them off, and were it not for their loud cue to go up on the stage, he was sure Hyunjin would have protested immediately. However, he was spared this time, the others gathering around them and looking at Bae worriedly, asking for a sign or permission from him. He took in a deep breath, willing the slight tremble in his body to go away, forcing his legs to move and his persona to take over his mind.

He would be fine.

Cheers erupted around them as soon as they set foot on the vast stage, smiles and excitement taking its rightful place on all the boys’ faces. Even Bae had one, naturally, truly happy to meet STAY again after so long as he had been hidden away from the idol world for long months. The curved line of his lips was as genuine as forced, worries over everything that could go wrong in the next few hours plaguing his mind ceaselessly, hidden under all that joy he felt. As if sensing his inner battles, someone always hovered nearby, keeping a subtle eye out for him and just that act in itself was enough for the tension to partially leave his form, able to enjoy the night for now.

He’d never been a truly active participant up on stage, always allowing the others to be free and do whatever they had wanted to. Of course if they wanted to involve him in their shenanigans, he hardly said no, his love for his bandmates running too deep for that. And so he let Felix whisk him away to annoy Seungmin, and he also allowed Jisung to use him as a living shield from a playfully annoyed Minho. There was never anything too forceful happening when he was involved, the others extremely careful to be gentle with his wounded body this time around. Chan and Changbin in particular, never failing to shoo the others away if things were starting to get too rough, Jeongin surprisingly joining their ranks. Hyunjin was the only one who wasn’t taking sides as he instead stuck to Bae like a second layer of skin, arms wound around his taller form at every chance the man could get.

It was impossible to not feel adoration and utter love towards these people who surrounded him, who cared for him despite how fragile he had become.

Everything was going well for a while, the cue for them to perform heard in their ear pieces and off they went to perform, dancing their hearts out with palpable excitement. Bae was no different, moves nearly the same as they had been before, all sharp and precise in a unique style that just screamed his name. His face didn’t show any sign of how his head throbbed dully to the rhythm of the music with each forceful movement either, able to push it to the back of his mind skillfully. His body felt each vibration down to its very core, a part of him having missed this feeling incredibly so.

The fans were having a good time and so were they, shenanigans and playful mood never stopping even amidst each dance they dedicated to their audience.

But with each passing song, no matter how much his soul longed to be up on stage and perform, his body protested in quiet misery. He couldn’t keep ignoring how that dull throb was growing itself out into something sharp, cutting into his brain each time his feet landed on the ground harshly. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as well, his lungs stuttering every once in a while under the heavy strain he endured. Thankfully he had excellent performing skills, able to mask his pain to a worrying degree and thus nobody had noticed it yet; they were much too busy with the ecstasy of the brightly shining lights and ear-splitting cheering from their fans.

His vision was swimming.

After the song ended, chest heaving desperately to capture some air into its empty grasp, he subtly wandered over to Hyunjin. Their heights were the closest to each other, and so it wouldn’t be too noticeable if he whispered something into the younger’s ear. No matter how much he wanted to keep living in denial about his worsening condition, he couldn’t. He needed to take it easy, to rest, otherwise things would take a dire turn.

The moment Hyunjin had heard Bae’s silent request a hand wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into the other’s side. He allowed it to happen, grateful for the support as he didn’t want to traumatise STAY and collapse in front of them; especially after having been absent for so long.

In a blink Chan was by their side and he had somehow missed the moment Hyunjin had called the older over, much too busy trying to fight off the slight ringing in his ears and the small spots at the edge of his vision. He wasn’t on the brink of collapsing, not yet, but he didn’t want to risk it. His hyungs -and everyone too, mind you- made him promise to tell them if he felt off even a little bit. He wasn’t about to risk getting an earful on top of worrying everyone by collapsing publicly, on stage of all places.

Not in a million years.

“Alright, take it easy, Dal. I’ll tell them to play some songs with easier choreography, like we talked about. Just make sure to drink enough, alright?” - Chan said, placing a steady hand on his shoulder for a few seconds in reassurance.

Bae nodded and before he knew it, a water bottle was thrusted into his vision, the owner of the hand smiling brightly at him. He thanked their maknae with a small smile, unable to resist the urge to pat the younger’s head for a brief moment. The boy was much too cute for him to resist doing so, and Hyunjin must have agreed, if that airy chuckle was anything to go by.

Much too soon they had to split up again and he was forced to silently watch as Chan signalled to the staff members, only to hear the start of Domino playing without any change. His throat closed up as he accepted defeat and went into position, eyes following a very angry looking Chan do the same. Those veins on his leader’s neck emerged from the surrounding skin, jaw set so tight it looked painful.

It was worrying.

He forced his body to move, willing it to dance as good as he could and even better than that, trying his best to not start showing his pain. It wasn’t a particularly easy choreography of theirs and any other time he would have been fine with that, but not now; not when the air burned as he greedily gulped it down, the world slightly tilting on its axis around him.

With each passing move, with each passing second his body fought to stop working, the muscles in his body doing their best to seize up and wither away. His head also felt like it was about to burst into pieces, the pressure behind his skull and eyes only building the more he ignored it. Were it not for the hat on his head he would have been worried about his wound having opened back up and staining the synthetic hair covering it in rich red.

His only saving grace was that he wasn’t in the middle of their group a lot, only once and not for long.

Then the song ended and there he stood, panting almost viciously as subtly as he could. His vision was filling with more and more black spots with each passing millisecond and his legs felt like they turned into jello. He could feel the glances thrown his way, his bandmates having noticed his slight swaying and unsure form.

But he endured.

He waited for the song to fully die down, allowing them to drop their ending poses and he did exactly that, although quite literally. His knees buckled under his weight and his dark eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, consciousness clinging onto the land of the awake by the thinnest of strings. Strong arms broke his fall as he heard gasps around him, belonging to both his bandmates and their fans.

“Hey, hey, I gotchu, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just lean on me, alright?” - someone whispered to him and only after a few seconds did he realise it was Changbin, the pain in his skull making his ears ring once more. “Here, drink a bit more, please?” - Felix all but pleaded and he obliged, opening his mouth to let the younger quench his thirst.

A sudden breeze on the side of his head made him stop and snap his eyes up, seeing Minho there with a slight, partially hidden grimace. His hat was put back on gently then, having been only lifted up a little bit. Something felt wet as it happened, and he could already guess based on his cat-like hyung’s reaction.

“Shit, his wound opened up. He can’t continue like this, we need to get him backstage to get patched up and rest asap.” - Minho said, looking back at Chan for the eldest’s opinion.

Before the man could open his mouth Bae did so instead, eyes wide with desperation and fear. He didn’t want to stop performing yet, he could still go on! He was fine, he would be fine and he’d been so, so patient to perform again; he wasn’t about to let it get taken away from him so quickly. The dread of being useless again, of being reduced to nothing from a beloved idol reared its ugly head again and this time, he knew the others could clearly see it in his eyes.

“I can still go! I-, I can, please don’t send me away. I’m fine. Please.” - he quietly begged, his hold on Changbin’s arm tightening to a dangerous degree.

Those whose faces he could see looked almost pained at the sight of his broken form, and he couldn’t fault them. It was rare for him to be so open, to beg for something, but he was growing increasingly desperate to the point of throwing his pride away. He didn’t care if doing that allowed him to get what he wanted, to chase that horribly suffocating feeling disappear from his chest.

Chan kneeled down to his level, those warm, chocolate eyes looking deeply into his in a comforting attempt.

“You’ve done well today, Dal. I honestly thought you would only last half this long with your injury, and I’m not saying that lightly. It’s okay to rest, you know, it doesn’t make you any less. And if you’re worried about the company, don’t. I’ll have a word with them, trust me, alright? Hyung’s got you.” - the older said, a smile sitting on those lips with the promise of taking care of things for him, no matter what. There was a glint of malice in those eyes, and Bae knew that Chan would keep himself to those words, even if that meant going against JYP himself.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, ultimately deciding to just close it for good as he instead nodded, knowing when to give up. This earned a gentle smile from Chan, expression only soft for his sake as it reverted back to its silently furious one the moment the male had looked away.

“What the fuck was that anyway? Didn’t you signal to them to change the music order, Chan hyung?” - Seungmin asked, the whole group huddled together at that point.

Changbin nudged Bae as a silent way of telling him that they would be standing up, and he was thankful of that steady grip the shorter male had on him. He despised being seen like this, this weak and vulnerable, idol image now most probably destroyed and reduced to ashes at the very best. The others followed the two, and he nearly reached out to ease the stress and anger that resided inside Chan’s smaller body; but he couldn’t, his head hurt much too violently for that.

“I don’t know but I’m gonna have some words with the staff here as well. I know for a fact that the ones responsible for this weren’t our own, but guest ones temporarily hired for the stage in this country. You know how we had a shortage recently and what troubles that brought. But the solution wasn’t fucking this.”

Every word was laced with deadly poison, and Bae would have felt bad for the poor bastards who crossed paths with Chan were it not for the fact that he could feel his blood rapidly soaking into the hat he wore. The world was moving around, the ground unsure beneath his feet and he wanted nothing more than to just lay down and sleep for a few days at minimum. As if sensing it, Changbin’s hold on him tightened, taking away more of his weight for himself.

He could hear that the others continued to speak around him as they were walking behind the stage now, a sea of people running around them frantically like a stream of colours. Despite all that, nothing truly entered his mind: not the words everyone had said, nor the places they had been walking through. All he could register were touches, and the way he was eventually laid down gently, some soft shushing entering his ears. Everything that covered his open wound was removed, a low hiss escaping his mouth as the dried blood pulled at his marred skin.

All he could feel were the stinging around his wound and the hold someone had on his hand, everyone’s presence obvious around him. If he focused hard enough he could tell who was where, a few members holding onto different parts of him in worry and comfort. It eased his frantic mind, allowing his heart to slow down as the feeling of constricting nausea slowly left his body.

Had it not been for their constant presence, Bae would have allowed those plaguing thoughts to sneak back into his brain; the ones that made him believe that he would end up being alone, thrown out of the world of brightly shining idols with his dimmed light.

It didn’t take long for him to let go, to rest, knowing that his bandmates had his back through everything. That same dread still lingered in his system, fated to never fully leave, but its deadly grip had eased up on him, even if only temporarily.

[lou-struck]

Golden Rings

Mammon x reader

25 Days of Ficmas Day 5

Wc: 1.5k

~After joining you at your friend's wedding last summer Mammon surprises you with a special early Christmas gift. 

Your friend has never looked happier as he and his bride exchange Golden rings at the altar. A few of the groomsmen wipe away tears from their eyes as they watch two people who are perfect for each other swear to love each other for the rest of their days.

It's a beautiful barn wedding, one that you thankfully were able to attend after you had the prince of the Devildom himself make a portal for you and your plus one to go through.

"Oi Mc," your aforementioned wedding date whispers into your ear. Mammon has been watching the wedding in fascination. After all, there are not many demons who have been able to witness a human wedding ceremony. It intrigues the Avatar of Greed, who, unbeknownst to you, wonders one day if he would be able to participate in this grand and expensive ceremony with you. His human.

"What is it?" you whisper softly. Your eyes are still trained on the bride and groom, but you feel Mammon reach over to grab ahold of your hand. It's a comfort for him in these unfamiliar situations. 

"What's with the rings?" He whispers back. 

"They're wedding rings," he whispers back distractedly. You really do want to watch the rest of the ceremony, but if you don't quell Mammon's curiosity now, he may continue to ask for a deeper explanation. "those are special rings humans give to each other as a sign of devotion and commitment to the person they love." Your response was lacking a bit of crucial information, but it seemed to do the trick for Mammon, who nodded thoughtfully and greedily took your hand, wanting to hold it for the rest of the day.

Honestly, he would let you hold his hand for the rest of his life if you could.

But for now, he is happy just spending this time with you as your chosen date for this wedding.

~

It is now Christmas time in the Devildom, and everyone is out getting swept up in the usual holiday hustle and bustle. You yourself have just gotten back from a rather chaotic shopping spree with Asmo. The Avatar of Lust is a wonderful shopping partner and was able to help you cross off most of the items on your list. You still have a few random gifts to pick up, but thanks to his superhuman shopping ability, you are well ahead of the game.

Your arms feel like lead from hauling your heavy shopping bags around as you drag yourself and soon-to-be-wrapped presents down the hallway to your bedroom. Your muscles strain under the weight of your financial decisions, and you wonder if maybe next year you should just purchase gift cards for everyone.

You are so distracted you don't even process that someone is turning the corner in the hallway until you find yourself bumping into their strong chest. Your shopping bags clatter to the ground as you stumble fully into an unsuspecting Mammon.

"Shoot," you huff, meeting the demon's eyes. Although you two have been far more intimate than just a bump in the hallway his tanned cheeks are already turning pink from the innocent collision. "Sorry, Mammon, I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"Silly human, what do ya think yer doin haulin all that stuff by yourself?" he asks, looking down at the tiny mountain of gifts that you had bought today. There is a familiar twinkle in his eye as he ponders the stack, and you know what he is going to ask you.

"Is any of this for me?"

You shake your head now. "surprisingly, no, I've already got all my shopping done for you this year. " 

The look of unadulterated joy on his face feels like a present. If he wasn't so focused on trying to look cool in front of you all the time, he probably would've broken out into a happy dance right there on the carpet. "It's cause I'm yer favorite, isn't it? Then you should definitely let me open a present early."

"It's not Christmas yet." You say in an attempt to remain firm, but once you look at those damn puppy dog eyes of his, you find yourself relenting. "Fine, you can open one present tonight. But if you say anything to anyone else, I'm taking all of them back to the store."

He smiles victoriously and completely ignores your threat. "Yer the best Mc. Lemme go grab one of yours, and I'll meet ya in your room away from the others." He runs off in a flurry of excitement, leaving you with the realization that you have just been played. 

As you slowly make your way to your room, you pray to whoever is listening that the rest of the Brothers don't find out about this little act of favoritism. 

~

Today's purchases had just been tucked away into your closet as you brew yourself a pot of festive candy cane tea for the occasion. 

You look over at your table of wrapped gifts and admire the different wrapping paper you got for each brother, as well as those who live in the Castle and Purgatory Hall. As promised, you selected Mammon's first gift from the pile. His metallic gold printed wrapping paper glistens under the flickering lights of your enchanted candle lamp as it waits to be unwrapped. 

You hear a light rapping on your bedroom door. "It's unlocked, you call as you pour yourself a cup of tea. 

Mammon walks in, holding a little wrapped box no larger in size than a wallet. The wrapping paper he chose is printed with dozens of little gold coins and stacks of grim on the front. "Ready for yer gift?" he asks, plopping down on your bed and placing his present on his lap. 

"Not as ready as you seem to be." you grin, swiping the long rectangular box off your table. Out of all of the gifts that you have gotten for Mammon this year, this one may not be the most expensive, but it is something that he will be able to use hopefully on Christmas Eve.

You hold out the box to him, and he takes it. Greed shines in his eyes as his fingers dance over the paper. Already finding the seam you had taped shut. 

Something in him shifts, and he lets go of the box. "You should open yer's first."

You blink and surprise. This is the Avatar of Greed we are talking about here. He always wants to be the first one to open gifts. What's so different about this one?

"Are you sure?"

"Yea, I already know you're gonna love it." he practically shoves his gift into your hands. As much as you would like to continue this back-and-forth, your curiosity is getting the better of you.

Gently, you rip open the packaging. The paper crumpled the ground, revealing a small crushed black-velvet box. 

Did he get your jewelry?

If he's starting Christmas by gifting you something so expensive, you are starting to feel a little insecure about your first gift to him.

"Mammon, are you sure it's okay if I open this early?" You ask tentatively. He knows eagerly

"totally,

With his encouragement, you flip open the box to reveal not one but two thin golden rings fastened to dainty gold chains. They're beautiful, but the way Mammon is practically buzzing in his seat tells you there's something more to this gift than just being pretty jewelry.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that the bands are two separate sizes, one that looks to be the size of your finger and one that looks to fit Mammons. 

"These necklaces are beautiful. Are they for both of us?" You ask, taking the one meant for you out of the box. 

The look on his face tells you that you are absolutely right. "I thought you and I could wear wedding rings so the rest of them would know how crazy we are about each other."

"Wedding Rings?" you repeat carefully. Your fingers fiddle with the clasp as you look to the demon for an explanation. 

"Yea, I've been thinkin' about this since we went to that weddin in the Human world." His cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, but he continues with his explanation. "It got me thinkin' that even if we weren't married, we could still wear these to show that we care for each other." your heart flutters, and you are amazed that he has come up with such a cute gift idea from your terrible explanation of what a wedding ring is. 

"This is perfect." you beam looping the necklace around your neck to show him how much you appreciate the gift. 

"R-really?" he says, looking relieved. The rings were cool and all, but I thought the necklaces looked cooler, so I went with that." he laughs, putting his own necklace on. But then, if you were the only one wearin it, then it seemed wrong, so I got one for me too."

"I love it," you say genuinely. Ignoring the nervousness that bubbles up in your stomach as you glance down at his unopened present stuffed with the PJs you got for him.

[saey707]

Oh I got a good request how about a heartsteel sett request where reader being his gf/designer for heartsteel.

✿ Prompt: You and Sett collaborate! ✿

♡ champion focus: sett ♡ tw: none! ♡ Female reader

Author's Note: Cute idea, anon! ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ. These will be on the shorter side (I failed to realize how many requests are coming in daily... ^^;) However, I hope you like my headcanons nonetheless!

You and Sett met in a sewing class not too many years before he became a renowned musical sensation! Given he was masterful in the art of sewing, whereas you specialized in design, the both of you were paired on a little project together.

The two of you didn't quite see eye to eye throughout the design process, but eventually, Sett came around! He admired your solid opinions and prowess in designing intricately complex pieces.

You admired how focused Sett was on the little details. Given design wasn't always perfect, you appreciated how he could seamlessly fix the little flaws while still making your vision come to life! You liked how he was able to make the pieces flow!

There is no doubt the two of you have designed and crafted matching outfits to wear out and in your everyday lives. Not only did it get your name out there as a designer, but it opened up opportunities for you as well! For Sett, it put him in the books for being one of the US and Korea's most fashionable men!

It took time to convince Sett to wear sleeves for magazine photoshoots, but eventually, he came around. It seemed like you always knew what was best, and he didn't intend to argue with you!

Galas were always a joy! You loved following the fun, fancy themes and always made sure to make Sett and his band the talk of the party! There was no way you would allow Heartsteel to walk around in boring, plain tuxedos, oh no, not with you!

Sett loves to participate in TikTok challenges. One day, he made you the seamstress while he handled the design... It didn't turn out as well as he thought it would. Sett doesn't have an eye for style and tends to make everything a bit too... gaudy.

Fabric shopping qualifies as a weekend date for the two of you!

The two of you get seriously competitive during the holidays, especially during group dress-up contests. In fact, you and Sett have won your group Halloween costume contests for 3 consecutive years so far! Beat that Candy Kayn!!

There is always someone to touch up ripped seams at any time! The two of you carry your own travel sewing kits. Upon stitching your ensemble up, Sett has poked you with the needle more times than he'd like to admit...

[bunnybubae]

(M)🚦Red Light: The Fear | Ch1 [JJK]

👉🏻[Series Masterpost]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)

Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst

Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past  you'll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It's a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile.  Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?

Chapter Warnings: This chapter describes an episode of harassment (it involves an unwanted kiss), please be aware of this if this theme makes you uncomfortable, description of past emotional abuse (manipulation, toxic jealousy), Angst, mention of alcohol consumption, Oc's ex is a stalker, cops are grossly negligent in this au, Tae and Hani to the rescue, Jk is hot af but this is nothing new.

Wc: 7.4k

A/N: Hello there! I've been planning this whole series for over a year and I'm finally able to make it come to life, slowly but surely! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶��

Let me know what you think about the series, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰

September 12th, Tuesday

The sun has already set, leaving the place to the colors of dusk.

You feel that your heart might explode in your chest at any moment. Is it the september evening breeze that's causing the chills covering your skin, or if it's all due to this visceral fear that's blocking your muscles right now? You can't quite tell.

After some extra hours at work, you thought you could finally close the tattoo shop in peace and go home to enjoy some leftover pizza in front of your laptop, but no- Ray evidently had other plans for you, deciding to unexpectedly visit you in the most unpleasant way possible. 

You wish Hani had stayed a little longer today to close the shop with you, because this sickening feeling it's becoming unbearable. You feel like a mouse in front of a ravenous cat and you want to scream, but you just don't find the courage to do it. 

He caught you off guard from behind, while you were looking for the keys in your bag, then he effortlessly spun you around on the spot and you found yourself blocked by your shoulders leaning against the entrance door of the shop. 

Your throat tightens as you struggle to breathe regularly. 

You're helpless and right now the only thing you can do is curse the day you replied to his message on Instagram, curse the invitation to participate at that damn workshop you and Hani organized for an exchange of advertising between tattoo artists. You can only curse that day and the following ones you spent with him. Of course you couldn't imagine that your perfect relationship would turn into such a nightmare, your ex used to be so kind and loving with you at the beginning, not even close to the obsessive, pleading mess that's keeping you trapped in utter fear right now. Jealousy can sometimes turn into such an obsession evidently, it can change people and you never expected something like this to happen in your life. Everything only got worse when after almost a year in your toxic relationship, you found the courage to finally break up with him. 

Weeks had passed since the last time Ray had disgusted you with his threatening messages and unexpected visits during work, you were almost convinced he had found another hobby but as a matter of fact, you were wrong. 

He understood that you can ignore his messages or even block his number for good, that you won't listen to him when Hani or your clients are around, but you certainly won't be able to ignore his forced presence, especially now that you're totally alone. He knows he has your undivided attention in this way.

He slurs something but you can't even pay attention. His inked arms are situated on each side of your head, while he looks down at you with desperate eyes. You don't even recognize him anymore. He used to take extra care of his appearance and health back when you two used to date, but now it seems like he is facing a grave problem with drinking. His body is close to yours, way too close for your liking and his warm breath mixed with whatever alcohol he drank, almost makes you gag. 

The smell of his cologne is the only thing that's still the same and that you recognize, it hits your nostrils and it brings back memories that now only hurt.

“Y/N, baby- why do you keep ignoring me like this?” his voice is strained and his face is contorted in anger- or nostalgia, you can't even tell. "You're killing me and I always treated you well" He is trying to stop the thoughts that are clouding his mind, slurring out the words breathlessly.

"I fucking miss you! I don't know what else to do to make you mine again!" 

These words are filled with desperation and you hate it, his need for possession is crystal clear in his statements. He threatened you multiple times saying that if you didn't get back together he would harm himself, claiming that the pain was too strong for him to bear, but he never said he wanted you back because he loved you, not even once. The only thing that he misses is controlling you, the only thing that he loves is taking away everything from you, putting himself at the center of your world.

He only wants to call you his, like a mere emotionless object. You hate it, you hate him.

He probably never wanted to take care of your heart as you believed and the realization that you were in love with him once, that his twisted feelings were strong for you but not in a healthy way, it makes you sick to your stomach. You should have known better, but you were blinded by your feelings.

There was a moment when you thought that you deserved this treatment, you told yourself that you allowed all of this because you were too naive to notice that those toxic feelings were poisoning your persona, till it was too late and they suffocated you, caging you. 

"G-get away from me" you manage to say in a small voice as your heart thunders in your ears. Your stomach twists in a knot when you sense his moving hands. The fear turns into pure horror when his hands find their way to rest on your cheeks a little too harshly and you instinctively hold your breath.

His drunken lips crash into yours with urgency, and you feel like you might throw up at all the disgusting sensations you are experiencing right now. Your body reacts of its own accord, rejecting this desperate, unwanted kiss before he could deepen it or do something worse. 

“I said get away from me!” you scream in a broken voice as you try to push him away with all the strength you possess. 

Ray is looking at you, almost surprised that you had the courage to reject him. Despite your effort he doesn't budge much, it's like his feet are planted to the ground. 

You're not able to meet his bloodshot eyes as you desperately try to free yourself. He's mumbling something that you can't quite comprehend and then his heavy hands are pushing your shoulders against the cold glass of the shop entrance, once again.

You didn't know you were crying until your vision started to blur with tears. This feeling of helplessness is the same one that kept you stuck in Ray's twisted love for months. 

Red flags were scattered all around, he started by making you doubt your abilities as an artist to then insistently ask you to pass all your male clients to Hani, co-owner of the shop as well as your best friend ever since you were children. She was the one who covered up your lies with Ray, as you tried to keep your clients aways from his madness.

He bulldozed everything around you, but Hani always stayed by your side, refusing to believe Ray's lies. She was your sturdy pillar when everything around you was falling apart. 

It was when Ray began to spread heavy lies about her, to lead you to break the agreements and contract with her, that you finally understood the gravity of the situation, that he was capable of totally ruining your life if you allowed him to manipulate you further. 

The threatening texts and stalking episodes that followed are nothing compared to what keeping a relationship with him could have entailed.

You're not sure when Ray started behaving in a toxic manner, cause you still remember the rosy beginning of your relationship and everything was just fine. Hani says she started noticing changes when he decided to surprise you one day at the shop and found the both of you engaged in a simple conversation with some male regulars. This evidently made him very jealous, because from that moment, the ordeal began. 

Your thoughts and sobbing are interrupted when Ray goes from mumbling pleas to insulting you with hatred, while his hands squeeze your shoulders as if to make sure to imprint on your skin all that he is feeling for you. 

You're not sure how you managed to free yourself from his grip, next thing you know you're running with all the strength you have left in your body, abandoning the alley of the shop to find a safer place. You hear him calling your name a couple of times as you put more and more distance between you. You fear that he might follow you and block you once again and the mere thought of finding yourself defenseless in the arms that once wrapped you with apparent affection, is enough to make new tears flow down your cheeks. 

The streets are almost empty and after reaching one that is well illuminated by shop signs, you look around to make sure he is not after you. When you make sure he is nowhere to be found, you grab your phone with shaky hands to call your best friend. You keep walking down the sidewalk as you try to calm your crying. 

“Y/N?” 

After a few rings, Hani answers the phone and hearing her voice ruins your desperate attempt to stay calm. You let out a liberating cry as you tell her that Ray really went too far this time. 

You knew that Hani had a date with her boyfriend, Taehyung, who she met several months ago at the shop. Tae got a tattoo from her and from that moment they became inseparable. You knew they were going out to dinner and you feel bad ruining their date like this, but they are the only people you can trust who know everything about your struggles with your ex.

Hani speaks quickly but gently on the phone, she clearly tries to keep calm while she tells you to go to the bar that you often visit after work, located just a few minutes away from the shop. She reassures you, telling you that they would be there as soon as possible. 

“Don't hang up until you get there, okay?” Hani adds, she can probably sense how shaken you are by what just happened and leaving you alone, even if it's over the phone, is out of question.

“I'm almost there,” you reply weakly through your sobs as you keep walking. You dry your face and try to normalize your breathing when you reach the small street where the bar is located. It's a quiet little place that holds countless memories for you and Hani, it was there that you and her celebrated the purchase of your tattoo shop a few years ago and it's where you return whenever you feel the need to unplug for a moment, while remaining in an familiar environment that makes you feel at ease. 

You walk through the entrance still holding your phone to your ear. The warmth hits your limbs pleasantly while lounge music and the smell of beer begin to envelop you like a blanket. 

On the other end of the phone you hear a loud windy noise and you deduce that Hani has already gotten on the motorcycle with Tae and that they are therefore about to arrive.

You feel a little calmer.

You end the call, knowing that Hani can't hear you and instead you opt for a text, informing her you'll wait for them at your usual spot. 

When you scan the place, you're glad it's only a tuesday as there are only a few people. You reach the slightly more secluded area of the place and you sit at your favorite table. The place is filled with fairy lights hanging above your head, their light hitting the brickstone of the walls and the wooden furniture just right, giving a cozy vibe that you always liked.

You then take off your jacket and your bag before sitting down, glad to have some dividers shielding you as you feel the aftermath of the adrenaline rush coming to you, all your strength drains away. Your shoulders ache from the tension and because of Ray's grip on them, your feet throb from the wild run and your heart continues to beat like a concert is taking place inside your ribs. You lean on the table with your elbows as you bring your hands to your head to massage your temples.

How could you ever imagine to find yourself in a similar situation?

You naively refused to believe that Ray was capable of hurting you in any way. He was too sweet and helpful with you at the beginning to think he was evil, your shared passion for arts was the core of your relationship and you also learned something new about the art of tattooing thanks to him. You were grateful for all the help he gave you in the shop. Ray is also objectively hot and the physical attraction and sexual chemistry were very strong between you.

Everything was pretty perfect.

Too much indeed, to the point that thinking about it now you wonder how you didn't notice how much the whole thing was stinking a mile away. You couldn't imagine that behind his perfect appearance and behavior, there was such an obsessed manipulator. You truly believed that he loved you like you loved him.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hands. Whatever he has done now, you're sick to ask help from the cops, they did nothing useful when you needed them in the past.

"We can't handcuff a guy without clear evidence that he's acting in bad faith, he's a heartbroken young man trying to win his girlfriend back!" 

These were the words they said only two months ago, when you tried to report his constant messages and stalking episodes. Nobody did anything. They dwelt mostly on the threats he sent, on the fact that he said he was going to hurt himself if you didn't answer or consider getting back together with him and they also didn't think his repeated visits were something to worry about, since he used to do that when you were still together, in their opinion.

They even had the courage to tell you that you guys are young, that people are made to make mistakes and learn from them and all that bullshit people say when they need  to give air to their mouths. 

They made him seem like the victim here and you are so sick to deal with this bullshit, you'd rather lock yourself home and never get out than asking their useless help once again. 

You don't feel safe anyway, neither without nor with them.

You've resigned to the idea that you can't count on them and that you must do something yourself, but what can you do against a much taller and stronger guy?

You shiver at the thought but then your attention is drawn by a soft voice.

“Hey,” when you lift your head, your gaze softens as it meets your best friend's face. She promptly sits next to you without even taking off her motorcycle jacket and gloves and she pulls you into her arms.

"I swear if I see him around I'll gouge out his eyes and make earrings out of them." 

Hani states as she continues to soothe you in her embrace. A little smile creeps on your face, mostly because you know that she would be perfectly capable of doing what she just said. 

She is scary sometimes, but you love her nonetheless. 

You feel an extra hand caressing your shoulder "That's a creepy way to do some recycling but I approve" Taehyung adds in a lighter tone, when you move to look at him you notice he is looking down at you with a sad smile on his face.

Since Tae started dating Hani, he has become a dear friend to you, you love the natural way he takes care of her, and you appreciate the several times he came to your rescue, having a fight with Ray to defend you. He is a good friend. You smile at him but the smile doesn't reach your puffy reddened eyes. 

It's nice to know that your friends are always there for you, you feel so helpless though, so fragile right now. 

Tae orders the usual for the three of you and some snacks from a passing waiter, and then he joins you and Hani at the table, both of them ready to listen to you.

“Thank you guys for coming- I'm sorry I ruined your date.” you feel guilty and your voice is still trembling a little bit. 

“Don't even joke about it, Y/N.” Tae's tone is almost scolding as he fixes their motorcycle jackets next to him. 

“You know that Tae and I see each other almost every day," Hani says "You don't have to worry about that.” 

“It's just that I- I never felt so weak before” you admit as your eyes begin to shine again, unshed tears gathering on the rim of your lower eyelid, threatening to fall at any moment. 

“I tried to push him away when he kissed me.” the memory of his lips on yours makes you shudder, so much so that you can't believe that there was a time instead when you craved those lips all over your body. 

"I was barely able to push him off of me." Hani and Tae keep listening, anger readable on their faces as you recount what happened. You manage to speak on the verge of crying, your eyes glimmer but this time you find the strength to keep your tears at bay. You feel anger taking over your fear right now, that's probably why you refuse to cry over your disgusting ex and his demeanor yet again.

Hani interjects, stating that she'll do all the closing at the shop with you from now on, adding that she's starting to consider buying you some pepper spray, so you can empty it on his face if he shows up again.

The waiter returns with your orders and some water, telling you to call him back if you need anything else. He seems to have noticed your mood and doesn't want to interfere too much while remaining at your service anyway. You thank him with a warm smile before he goes back to doing his job elsewhere.

“Pepper spray is a good idea and you should buy it if it makes you feel a little safer," Tae begins "but I have another idea.” he adds before sipping his drink.

“I have a friend who races with me who also owns a gym, he even teaches kids how to throw good punches and stuff.”

You had almost completely forgotten that Tae participates in a regional motorcycle racing championship every year, Hani did nothing but talk about it at the beginning of their relationship. 

Hani nods vigorously after taking a sip of her own drink, agreeing with her boyfriend. 

"It wouldn't be a bad idea actually!" she says “Punching the shit out of that dick head would be even more satisfying!”

Tae fishes his wallet out of his jacket pocket and then rummages through its folds. When he finds what he was looking for, he places a business card on the table and pushes it towards you. 

"Jungkook took care of the gym full time before also dedicating himself to racing" he explains "Now there is a guy who helps him with the management, but he prefers to take care of the main courses himself"

You collect the business card while pondering what to do. Taking some boxing lessons might help you boost your confidence, your strength and it might be a good distraction as well.

"It's not that far from the shop" you recognize the name of the gym having passed in front of it a few times while you wanted to buy breakfast in a nearby coffee shop before your shift at work. You could use the opportunity to learn something new that you could also use to your advantage if needed.

You listen while Tae tries to explain what he knows about the gym, telling you that his friend Jungkook mainly handles the children's class in the early afternoon and the adult's class that starts at 7pm. That wouldn't be bad for you, since your closing time is around 6 pm, cleaning up and preparing the shop for the next day won't take much time.

“If you decide to try, tell him I sent you,” Tae continues “I can already tell you tho- Jungkook loves to joke, sometimes a little too much, but he's a good guy and knows how to be serious when necessary” 

You slightly nod, looking back at the piece of paper in your hands. 

You can try, and if you don't like it you can always leave. 

You can grab an uber or whatever to reach the place and to go back home. It should be fine if you book it a little earlier, so you don't have to wait alone outside.

"Okay," you suddenly say "I think I'll give it a try." 

Hani and Tae both smile, visibly content with your choice.

"Do you want me to walk you there?" Hani asks "It'll be a 30ish minute walk" You accept Hani's proposal without thinking too much.

"How about thursday?" you add "We can go together and then I'll get organized with uber and stuff"

Hani agrees, then she drifts her attention to Tae, who starts to discuss with her the time and place he will be coming to pick her up after she drops you at the gym.

The evening continues normally, you regain your tranquility bit by bit, even tho there is always a pinch of sadness and anger bothering you in the back of your mind. Sharing some quiet moments with your friends managed to cheer you up enough to genuinely laugh at the silly bickering between the two lovebirds. 

You can't help but wonder if you'll be able to get over this mess anytime soon.

When it's time to go home, Hani decides that she will be spending the night with you at the apartment you once shared for more than a year, before she started to crash often at Tae's.

Ray could always decide to make the situation worse by showing up at your door, you think. If he decides to do so, Hani could create those famous eyeballs-earrings much sooner, she said. The joke makes you all chuckle, you are happy to have them by your side, gosh- you truly are grateful.

Spending time with them definitely improved your mood and you feel like you can overcome this bad period of your life, with time and patience. 

You thank Tae who waited for your uber to arrive before putting on his helmet and get on his motorcycle.

You feel incredibly tired but hopeful, this new experience could really help you on multiple fronts.

September 14th, Thursday

When you wake up, you feel like you've slept for barely 2 hours, but it's been like this since the whole stalking shit started, so. You lack your usual enthusiasm, that unbridled desire to create works of art on other people's skin, it's slowly vanishing away and that worries you. 

You do your best to react though. The day goes by better than yesterday, your appointments at the shop flow smoothly one after the other and some potential customers have come to ask for some info on the costs of piercings, something Hani mainly manages. 

You keep your mood up to meet your customers' requests, to smile and make them feel comfortable.

You are finishing the last touches on the skin of your last client of the day when, looking up at the clock hanging on the wall, you realize that soon it will be time to close, you shudder a little even if you know that Hani will close the shop with you this time, it's been only two days after all, the events are still too fresh. You let the buzzing sound of the pen distract you as you fill the last bit of skin with ink.

In no time, the shop is empty and silent again, except for Hani who has the pleasant habit of humming as she tidies up her side of the shop. You finish cleaning your station while your mind wanders. You think that it was so natural and easier to enjoy the peace of this place before. 

This has always been a safe place for you, your very home. Of course, the concept of home is usually a place where you don't do your job, where you sleep, eat and rest. You pay the rent for the apartment, but this is still where you spend most of your time, this is that place that you know you will never leave, that you feel it's yours, that when you walk through the door makes you feel in your element.

It shouldn't be that difficult now, it's still the same shop, but the need to hide your appointments to avoid arguments with your ex in the past and the fear you began to feel as time passed, have tarnished what this place means to you. Your face drops in sadness at the thought. You want to go back to loving this place like you've always done at all costs and find some serenity again. Tattooing has always been your passion, something that sadly distanced you from your parents, who always wished you would pursue a different career. You won't let Ray ruin what you accomplished with sacrifices.

The shop shines when you're done, you pick up the bag previously prepared for the gym and you and Hani close the shop together. 

You hope these lessons can help you release some stress.

Hani walks by your side, talking about everything and nothing, sharing a little laugh when you tell her that you can't wait to punch a sandbag imagining Ray's face. 

The evening is pleasantly chilly and you're almost at the gym when you ask Hani if she wants you to wait with her for Tae to arrive.

“Don't worry I'll meet him at the corner,” she reply "besides, the class has already started, you should head inside."

You look at your phone, realizing it's way past 7:30pm already and you begin to feel a little anxious. Hani then tells you to call her or Tae if you need anything, even if they're going to spend the evening at the movies, she makes sure that you know you can always rely on them.

You nod, smiling "Thanks for being there Hani, I don't know how I'd have reacted to all of this alone" You truly don't know. Hani waves her hand "Don't even joke abaut it" she replies, mirroring your smile. 

"You even talk like Tae now!"

She rolls her eyes but she knows you are just teasing her.

“I want to know everything about your first lesson tomorrow!” she emphatically throws a few empty and totally random punches. You giggle at the scene shaking your head “Sure sure- I’ll show you what I learn.” 

“As long as you don't punch me, I'm fine with it.” You push her playfully and then you say goodbye as she walks away and you enter the gym.

It seems like a recently renovated place. You expected the usual smell of sweat and plastic typical of the gyms, but you are actually surprised to catch a fresh hint of flowers in the air. You notice a small reception near the entrance door, a well decorated counter with all sorts of flyers on top and red and blue led lights that illuminate the gym logo in the front, but there is no one behind the counter to welcome you. 

You take a few steps through an arch that leads to what is apparently the main area of the gym. 

The floor is mostly covered with a rubber tatami and you see some hanging plants and flower pots by the walls, which explains the very subtle smell in the air. Different tools and dumbbells are scattered around while several people are engaged in exercises of various kinds in front of some floor to ceiling mirrors.

You scan the place, pleased by the vibe it radiates. It surely is strange to find so many flowers and plants in a place like this, but it gives an original touch to it. Your gaze lands on a bunch of guys wearing boxing gloves while observing the explanation of an exercise. The one that's explaining, according to Tae's description, should be his friend Jungkook, who is standing in front of them while performing the exercise in question as an example.

Wow. Those are some wide shoulders right there. 

You watch him intently as the dark haired guy moves. Something about his movements is attractive and you guess it's just him when he turns around and you notice the lip ring that Tae had told you about and the right arm completely full of colorful tattoos that you are already dying to curiously inspect. Yup, he's hot.

You watch him from the entrance as he performs the exercise with ease, his muscles flex and you can glimpse at them while his clothes deliciously wrap around his body. Tae could have warned you, it's gonna be hard to concentrate with this guy.

Jungkook almost seems to sense your gaze on him when, once his explanation is over, he turns towards the entrance you are standing at and your eyes meet for a moment. You tense up cursing at yourself, gawking at a complete stranger at the gym is creepy, But then you notice he's smiling while he approaches you and the group of guys he left is now performing the exercise.

"Can I help you?" 

Of course, even his voice had to be hot. Fuck. You shift on your spot, clutching the bag you're carrying on your shoulder as you hope the warmth you're feeling on your face doesn't color your cheeks.

"You must be Jungkook," you reply, feeling a little awkward. Why even the sound of your own voice sounds stupid to you right now, damn.

"In the flesh." he responds confidently, pushing his hair back with his fingers.

Ok, now it's fucking clear as day that this guy knows very well that he is good looking and that he has an effect, which makes you think that he must be used to the women eating him up with their eyes.

"And you are?" he asks with curiosity laced in his voice. 

"Uh sorry, I'm Y/N" you compose your thoughts trying to ignore the increasing awkwardness you feel explaining that "Taehyung told me about your class and I would like to give it a try." 

"Kim Taehyung? Are you two friends?" He seems surprised as his eyebrows raise.

“Yeah, his girlfriend is my best friend.” 

Jungkook chuckles by himself, amused by something you ignore. 

"You're the tattoo artist, aren't you?" he asks, smiling as if he figured a puzzle or something like that.

“Did he say I was coming?”

“Not exactly,” Jungkook replies “but I met your best friend at Tae's a few times and I heard her say your name while speaking to Tae.” He seems pleased by the coincidence. 

The fact that he remembers this small thing doesn't surprise you that much, but you start to feel anxious wondering if he happened to hear something related to your situation with Ray, you'd rather avoid talking about it. It's already difficult to deal with it with your friends, but most of all, you don't need compassion.

Jungkook observes you momentarily, and almost as if he sensed the drift of your thoughts, he beckons you to follow him towards a freer area of the gym. You follow him till you reach a set of gloves neatly arranged in one corner. 

“Can I see your hands?” he asks casually.

"Sure." You leave the bag you're carrying on your shoulder on the ground, moving it to the side so it's not in the way, then you bring your hands forward with your palms facing up to let him observe them. Jungkook gently gathers your hands, and his touch is so delicate you barely feel it. He observes carefully, humming while he tries to figure out which pair of boxing gloves would fit you well.

It's not even a proper touch, it almost feels like the slight tickle that a feather would give and it's... pleasant. You're not completely indifferent as his fingers continue to brush the back of your hands, the sensation making you feel a little shy even though he is just looking at your hands and nothing more.

"Try these" His fingers leave you to take and offer you a particular pair of boxing gloves that he thinks might fit you. You inspect them briefly, wincing a little at the sweaty feel that envelops your hands as you put them on. 

You feel your hands swimming inside, indicating that they are too big for you. You look at Jungkook asking “Do you have a slightly smaller pair?” Jungkook seems to have already considered the possibility that these were too big. He is giggling as he hands you another pair of seemingly smaller and more colorful boxing gloves and you see him try to bite back the smile that's on his pink lips. You can't help but think that the way he scrunches up his nose is actually cute.

You switch up the gloves with the colorful one, immediately understanding why he was chuckling like that. “I know, it's a big problem for me,” you admit, chuckling at your own hands, “I can't find latex gloves that fit perfectly 'cause of this” He laughs with you, amused by the smile that formed on your face when you noticed that the gloves he gave you are for children, specifically a blue and red spiderman themed pair. 

"Using the words 'big problem" just made the whole thing funnier!"

"Well, I'll throw spider punches today." you joke.

Jungkook let's out a small laugh as he is looking at you with something in his eyes, you're probably the first grown up who needs kid's gloves and you catch him subtly checking you out.

This sense of lightness, simple yet helpful for your tired mind, is doing some good to you, you can feel it as you notice that you're exchanging genuine smiles and gazes since you started talking.

You follow him, avoiding to step on the tatami with your shoes as you approach the corner with different punch bags. He stands next to you in front of one of the standing punch bags available.

“Alright- so, there's no need to throw hard punches, for now just show me how you throw them.”

"But I don't know how!" you admit.

"Exactly, I want to see your natural movements, to understand what we'll have to work on'' Jungkook replies as he crosses his arms on his chest. The motion captures your eyes for a moment too long. That sleeve tattoo looks perfectly done and you barely refrained to take a closer look, the delicious way his tatted muscles are popping out of his white t-shirt is too distracting.

"Now show me how those little hands would hit the bag" his tone has slightly changed and he is smirking at you. He's teasing purposely and you think you saw him winking at you, or maybe you just imagined it. You roll your eyes as an attempt to save yourself from the embarrassment of being caught gawking at him like that. 

You ignore the persistent warmth on your cheeks and try to remember the movements you saw earlier, as he explained to those guys. They seemed to get into position before they did anything else, so you try to imitate the movements you remember as best as you can.

You bring your left arm across your chest as your right arm punches the punch bag in front of you with ease. Jungkook's face is fully concentrated, he hums as he nods a couple of times, his gaze lost as he ponders on the movements he just saw. 

“Okay, first of all- your left arm.” Jungkook moves, putting himself between you and the punch bag. 

"Get back in position again, the one before you throw the punch" 

You promptly do what he asked, repeating the previous movements once again. You stop when your arms are folded like before and you're ready to throw the punch. Jungkook's hands move as he says "Relax your shoulders." and then they gently rest on you.

This time his touch is not a simple featherlike brush, you feel the weight of his hands resting delicately on your skin and you stiffen at the contact. He said you should relax, but his hands on you caused the opposite reaction.

Ray and his hands come to your mind, the feeling of him holding you against the glass door is fogging your thoughts again, even though Jungkook's touch is soft and gentle on you.

You wince a little, taking a step back instinctively. Jungkook immediately withdraws his hands, sensing your discomfort. 

"S-sorry, I was trying to correct your posture, I didn't mean to-"

“No- it's fine" you interrupt him, suppressing the negative emotions that started to poison your guts.

You really want to focus and learn and until now, you had no idea your ex's behavior has affected you up to this point. 

Jungkook watches you dubiously, you can't decipher the expression adorning his beautiful face right now, he seems worried, thoughtful, maybe he's wondering what kind of an idiot would want to learn how to throw punches and then reacts like this at the slightest physical contact. 

The idea of having to give up because of this sensation, pisses you off. You gulp the lump on your throat while you close your eyes briefly, then you resume the position, being careful to relax your shoulders this time.

"Better?" you ask in a calm voice. Jungkook nods with a faint smile on his face. Even if he probably noticed there's something wrong, you're glad he's not asking questions. 

"What else wasn't right?" 

Jungkook notices your determination to continue and returns to your side again, opting for a demonstrative explanation this time.

He moves his body naturally and you observe him carefully. His movements are so precise and satisfying to watch and the desire to learn, to achieve more or less this naturalness, gives you the right push to continue. Most of all, now that you know that Ray left this horrible sensation on your skin, you're determined to get rid of it. 

Jungkook explains the importance of taking a correct position, to be able to hurt and not get hurt. A faint smile returns to your face at his way of explaining this kind of thing with passion and care. 

You imitate his movements by moving your left foot forward, your left arm at your chest like before but slightly higher, until your glove touches the side of your chin. When you feel that you have planted your foot well on the ground, with a slight movement of your shoulders, you accompany your right fist towards the bag, also rotating your pelvis slightly.

And just like that, you land a perfect punch on the punch bag.

Jungkook cheers softly so as not to disturb the others but his satisfaction is evident. You smile to see him so taken for so little, but you have to admit that you feel pumped, and yes- it was only one perfectly landed punch.

“That's a great start!” he adds enthusiastically. 

"So even small hands can throw some good punches huh!" You laugh softly and Jungkook joins you, genuinely amused.

"I'm sure those little punches will be able to do a lot of harm soon!" he declares "If you wanna join the gym, of course." 

This is what you needed to hear, it gives you courage, you can't wait to feel totally comfortable with your abilities, you're ready to commit to this and Jungkook saw it, when you eagerly said "Of course I want!"

That -little episode- long forgotten when you two started to talk comfortably that evening. Jungkook took some time to explain how and when he gives his lessons and to show you around the gym as well as the female's locker room, making sure you knew you could use everything you wanted once you felt comfortable enough to train alone.

From that day, you started going to the gym almost regularly. To be honest, as time passed, you couldn't wait to get back on that tatami to train after work, it soon became a healthy habit.

And, on the other side, you could see Jungkook.

You like having him around, you and him started bantering all the time almost instantly. You got used to his presence and his ways of teasing pretty fast and he's been a breath of fresh air for you. You've been attracted to him since day one, you're not gonna lie, but he soon became some kind of a friend. 

Yeah, that kind of friend you'd gladly rip their clothes off, but whatever.

The lethal mix of wide shoulders, buff body, lip ring, tatted arm and that sweet face of his when he smiles and scrunch up his cute nose… 

Yup, you're kinda crushing on him and training with him almost everyday it's quite challenging.

You two share a nice friendship, but it's clear that something else is hidden underneath. The constant glances and flirty jokes at the gym are proof of that and from time to time you also catch him pretending not to be looking at your butt. 

You are more at ease now and that's also thanks to him and his lessons.

Everything seems to be falling back to place, if not an even better one. 

Ray has been silent since that night outside the shop. No messages, no calls, no unexpected visits, no nothing. The fear to meet him again is still persistent and sometimes the horrible things he did to you still haunt your mind, but you're now able to manage to get rid of it in no time. You're more confident, you sleep better and you're learning a bunch of new stuff that keeps your mind busy.

You feel like you're able to breathe again, like you got your life back in your hands. 

Hani walked with you to the gym a few more times after the first time, but you soon started to book an uber to go and get back. It wasn't difficult to get into a rhythm: you book it through your phone a little earlier, so you don't have to wait outside and that's it, like this you're able to close the shop and get into the car immediately and when you have to go back home, you take a shower at the gym, say your goodbyes and head outside, where your uber is already waiting for you. Simple and effective.

Just to be extra sure, you leave your lessons a little earlier, like at 9pm instead of 10pm. Better safe than sorry.

Jungkook never asked the reason why you always leave early, not explicitly at least. Sometimes he's teased you by asking if you quit training early to fight crime with your cute hands, a recurring joke you always involuntarily smile at. Tae had warned you after all, Jungkook jokes a lot and in all this time spent at the gym, training with him, you had the opportunity to see for yourself.

There's something though that seems to creep behind his eyes every now and then and you can't quite put your finger on what. Sometimes he seems extremely thoughtful or even sad, even a few moments after he just cracked a joke. 

You never had the courage to ask, just like he never asked why you reacted like that the first time he touched you. You don't want to ask him what's bothering him and apparently he doesn't want to ask you either. Jungkook began to invade your thoughts just like that, with ease, and this hidden mystery behind his beautiful brown eyes keeps drawing you to him more and more.

| [Next Chapter] ▶

[shycroissanti]

Kishin -alternative future AU Upper Moon 2- This Kishin I imagine he secretly went tournament mode with all the moon's upper and lower. To see how strong he is. and feel more confident that he can protect Irina. (maybe the two thought of having kids and Kishin felt that he needed to step up and be protective.) So he did the tournament secretly. He probably told Irina that he was in a tournament but never with the moon's. He is certain that Irina might fight alongside him or maybe stop him. Imagine his shock that he's strong enough to be the Upper Moon 2. Now he wouldn't know what to do. He has a big mark/tattoo on his shoulder and hiding it would make it obvious. And he doesn't know how to break it to Irina he's almost the strongest demon second to the demon king. So Irina sees this demon love of her life shuffling around her obviously hiding something. IDK how Irina would react to Kishin's new rank besides shocked. How do you think Irina would react?

OMG, AN UPPER MOONS TOURNAMENT WOULD BE SO AWESOME!!!!! NOW I CAN'T GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!

I'm almost considering Kishin as Upper Moon 2, a canonical future in my story xD

But well, let's start with the moment Kishin discovered that he had become an Upper Moon. So, it was by sheer coincidence, his shoulder was bandaged because he had injured it in one of the battles. Then he found the Upper Moon mark when he went to check his shoulder

Then Kishin goes crazy, with joy and confusion at the same time xD

Yuina belongs to @larz-barz

Initially he didn't know how to tell Irina, so while he was thinking, he kept his shoulder bandaged for a while longer, until Irina came to check on him, and then he couldn't hide it anymore.

Irina will ask him a million questions✨️✨️

And she is happy for him, since they were younger, Irina has always been extremely happy to see Kishin becoming stronger and stronger.

Now about the Upper Moons tournament.

Kishin would definitely do this tournament with the Moons, Yudi totally supports him and would love to fight too!! As for Irina, Kishin wouldn't be able to hide it from her, he would tell her everything about this tournament at some point. Of course Irina would want to participate, but she accepts Kishin fighting alone, as long as she can watch (and intervene, in case someone tries to hurt Kishin too seriously, she doesn't want anything bad to happen to her hubby ùwú)

Thanks for the ask!!! :D💖✨️

Le tags💖

@c00kietin @larz-barz @knyinfinity @demonslayerdoodles @night-mince10001 @scaredyfurry2 @pinkwisteria @giyubabe @pulim-v @nothingtoseehere1-2-3 @tor-the-tortilla @zenitsustherapist @ayunakatsukiwolfhashira @sunbrokenswords

[misc-obeyme]

Hi, love your work! Could I please request a headcanon with SatanxMC, author’s choice?

Hi there, anon! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoy my writing!

Okay, so uh, since it was author's choice, I thought I'd do a little hurt/comfort. And oh man, I was in a mood 'cause MC is really going through it in this one. But the thing is, I really feel like Satan in particular would be like this. He's actually really good at balancing himself in a way none of his brothers are at all. (When he's not enraged that is.) And I think that gives him a different perspective on an MC who was deliberately suppressing their feelings. Anyway, hopefully it turned out okay!

Thanks for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

It's another long day. And something inside you mumbles quietly of sadness - a constant hum that you had tuned out long ago. You have no reason to feel anything but a sense of progress and contentment along with the inevitable knowledge that there was always more to be done. You don't have time to focus on anything else.

Satan learns your patterns the first time he sees them in action. Perhaps it's the way you isolate yourself or maybe it's the strained sound of your voice. He notices when all you ever do is give your energy, passion, and love away. He watches it deplete you.

It takes some trial and error, but Satan figures out when it's all too much. He had to learn fast when he found himself unceremoniously ripped into existence, fully formed and full of rage. He knows how to adapt quickly. He knows how emotions that feel like they don't belong to you can be so overwhelming that there isn’t space for anything else.

Satan knows that you would never say it out loud, not to anyone. He sees that low melancholy in your eyes no matter how hard you try to hide it behind your smile. You don't want anyone to know, but you desperately want someone to see it, too. And he does. He always does.

He might start out with shooing his brothers away from you. Giving them glaring looks if they become too demanding. He can’t act as though he isn't also guilty of wanting your attention, your love, your friendship. He knows you like it that way because it helps you avoid the truth of your heart. It's easy to push yourself aside when others need you. He watches you bury yourself in the wants and desires of him and his brothers. Like your own don’t matter. Like your comfort is secondary to theirs.

Satan is going to ask you about it directly. It hurts. It hurts you both to talk about it and by the end you’ve both succumbed to tears. He knows you can’t hold it in forever. He knows you can’t pretend you’re okay for the rest of your life. It doesn’t work like that and he won’t watch you crash and burn. He’s been there too many times himself. That’s why he forces himself to ask you. He calls you out when you lie or somehow downplay your feelings. Don’t hold out on him, MC. Please.

Satan’s heart breaks as he watches your eyes fill with tears the minute he asks you why you’ve been sad lately. He knows this is what he needs to do for you, but he hates watching you in pain. You reluctantly start to talk to him and every word seems to be cutting you open. Every word becomes an arrow through his heart. And he realizes he’s able to stand it, able to hold this hurt, because he can also see it healing you.

Didn’t you heal him, too? Didn’t you calm his wrath in a way no one else ever could? Isn’t it the least he could do to make room for your sadness? Isn’t it the least he could do to hold it for you, just for a little while? He would take it all if he could. He would protect you from every feeling that wasn’t happiness or joy or love.

He can’t, so instead he holds you. He hates the way you shudder in his arms, like your body can’t contain the heaviness of your own heart. But he keeps you close to him, buries his hand in your hair, kisses your cheeks softly, his lips wet with your tears. He runs his fingertips down your back, he tightens his arms around your torso. He lets you stay that way as long as you want. He’ll hold you against his chest all night if you cry yourself to sleep there.

When morning comes, Satan is floored by the bright relief he sees in your eyes. For so long, you kept quiet and he watched you fade. All it took was someone to ask you, someone to listen, someone to be there to witness you pour everything out of your soul and into the night. Now you’re radiant again and beside that a gratefulness, a tenderness, a bond between you of a shared secret hurt that no one else has ever seen. You have carried him in his anger and he will always hold you through your pain.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[love-in-the-time]

I Get to Keep You: Fourteen/Donna, M for all kinds of things

Title: I Get to Keep You Author: love-in-the-time Rating: M for language, sex, violence, etc. Summary: Donna has a specialized task that no one else is truly capable of accomplishing, since it requires the willing participation of the Doctor. Fourteen/Donna DOMESTIC BLISS.

UNIT hires Donna in the days following the Toymaker's disappearance, signing a contract for a hundred-fifty thousand pounds a year, five weeks vacation, and an annual bonus. She can relax, finally, about money. It's part of why she is so excited to help the Doctor pick a house; he decides on the French countryside, to Donna's delight and enchantment.

Kate Stewart explained that if the Doctor was going to live on earth permanently, it would be safer for all involved if it was as unobtrusive as possible. A French garden with a bit of land around it would be an ideal place for a blue box that would blend gently into its surroundings. She also explains that UNIT has indeed been paying the Doctor for the past seventy years, and he has an Earth bank account with several million pounds in it, just waiting for his use.

So he chooses a pretty country house outside of Montresor, in the Indrois Valley, and buys it outright. It's surrounded by lush green land, with an enormous enclosed garden. There are many more bedrooms than he needs, and the floors are all polished wood, with high windows and charming details everywhere. Donna moves through the house with the same excitement as the TARDIS, exclaiming over the views and the crown moldings and the polished wood floors and the stained glass. UNIT provides him with furniture and a car, all official and licensed, so that he is within easy reach of the agency should it be needed. Rose is enrolled in an international school, where she is boarded with the children of UNIT employees from all over the world, and thrives in the specialized environment of the school. Location undisclosed, of course, to all except the families.

The Doctor, upon closing the contract to the house with Donna next to him, proceeds to hand her a key immediately. "This is your home too, for the rest of your life, just like the TARDIS," he tells her. "Thank you for coming to help me pick it out."

Donna just smiles. "Welcome home, Spaceman," she says.

"Promise me you'll stay here," the Doctor says. "And bring your family with you."

"As often as I can," Donna says.

"And you can come by yourself too," the Doctor says hopefully, half a question. "Just to hang out? I'll take you by TARDIS, of course."

Donna looks over the lovely house and says, "It'll be my joy."

On a Friday in late August, when the Doctor has been settled into the new house for a few months and Donna has spent the last few days with him planting a garden, she is called for a meeting at UNIT headquarters in Paris, which by train would have taken hours from either London or Montresor. But since the Doctor is Scientific Advisor Number One to UNIT and is naturally also invited to the meeting, he of course takes her by TARDIS. "Exclusive transport," he tells her, grinning. "Go man your station."

Still not quite able to believe what her life has become, Donna circles the TARDIS console with a smile on her face. She knows what to do, she can hear the TARDIS hum under her hands, and within a minute she meets the Doctor at the middle of the console, the central line wheezing away as always.

She smiles at him for a moment, and he says, "God, I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Donna says. "I can hardly even absorb what's happening."

"Well you'd have to know that UNIT would be interested in you," the Doctor says. "And very interested, too, if that contract is any indication."

"Did you read it?" Donna asks, surprised.

"I helped write it," the Doctor says. "You don't know everything, Donna Noble."

"Is that how I got a hundred fifty instead of a hundred twenty?" Donna asks.

"Oh, I told them a million," the Doctor shrugs. "They wouldn't go for it, of course, but they know who you are. You're needed. You're good. You're fast. You can do anything, and you can help."

Donna nods. "I can help," she says. "That's all I ever wanted to do." She looks down at herself. "What d'you think, am I professional enough for it?" She's wearing an elegant slim navy suit with a soft white blouse.

"You're beautiful," is all the Doctor says. With its new Arrival Alert System in place, the TARDIS gives a bright ding as they land inside a UNIT garage. They are met by escorts who bring them to the conference room where the French delegation is assembled. They are greeted enthusiastically by everyone, and Donna is bemused to find herself in the middle of a true agency meeting, in a clean and minimalist blue-and-white conference room. But she has her credentials clipped to her jacket, and so does everyone else, even the Doctor, still wearing his brown-and-blue checked suit. Everyone is provided with standard issue tablets and there is a screen for everyone to consult on the wall.

They undergo an extensive briefing concerning the most recent events in Europe, and an American consultant joins them via the big screen to discuss international issues. At the conclusion of that, the agents file out in orderly line, leaving Donna and the Doctor with the commanding officer, Major Paulette Marnier.

"We've been informed by Brigadier Stewart in London that you're being directly trained by the Doctor," the major says. "That's better than anything we could offer you anyway, so your protocol has been adjusted and you're free to take your training aboard the TARDIS." She looks down at her tablet. "The next order is the record of Miss Noble as the other TARDIS traveler on our books. She needs to be appointed as a licensed TARDIS pilot. It's quite a sophisticated piece of machinery."

"I'll sign off on that," the Doctor says. He's beaming.

"Right," Paulette says. "I'll need to see Miss Noble alone in my office for a moment, so we are adjourned."

Donna looks to the Doctor, who rises alongside her from the table. "I'll wait for you," he says. "That's what I do now."

The major watches the two of them smile at each other as if there is no one else in the room. She thinks this woman must be extraordinary indeed if the Doctor is attached to her in this way.

Inside the lovely, wood-furnished office of the major, Donna seats herself across from the older woman. "First of all, welcome," Paulette says. "You can't imagine how pleased we are to have you join us."

"I can hardly believe it myself," Donna says. "Thank you. It's been an amazing change."

"I'm consulting with you in private regarding the Doctor," Paulette says. "We've never had him in permanent residence on Earth before, and regardless of his provenance, we are committed to the safety and security of your family since he has decided to live with you." She folds her hands. "For all intents and purposes you are our liaison to him, and in the interest of security we ask that you remain in that position for as long as you are able, even when you retire from UNIT."

"I don't know if he'll stay with me forever," Donna says.

"Oh, I think we can be pretty confident he will be around for a long time," Paulette says, with certainty that is both professional and personal.

Donna doesn't say anything in response, but her expression speaks for her. The mix of hope, fear, and joy on her face is vulnerable. She clears her throat. "Anyway," she says. "Yes, I will serve as permanent UNIT liaison to the Doctor."

"You have a specialized task," Paulette continues. "And a completely unique one, since it requires his willing participation. You're the one who will give this Doctor a reason to retire. Who will ensure that this Doctor, in order to ensure the safety of all other Doctors, will retain his peace of mind. A French countryside garden with a meadow and a view of the river is an ideal place for that, wouldn't you say? But even more important, Donna, is that the said French garden contains you. As often as possible."

"I think that won't be a problem," Donna says, her voice a little threadbare from self control. She's wanted to cry from relief a million times since he's been back and neither of them have had the chance.

"It means that you will receive information about things UNIT doesn't know," Paulette continues. "This information is released at your discretion, of course, we make no presumptions on your personal interactions with the Doctor. You are his closest contact and as such you retain specific rights."

"What does that mean?" Donna says. "That I have no privacy concerning him if necessary?"

"Quite the opposite," Paulette says. "Rather that all of your interactions are privileged, no matter personal or professional. You aren't property of UNIT, you are our most valuable consultant."

Donna has never had power in her life, and now she is humbled by the idea that UNIT seeks to protect and privilege her life with the Doctor, essentially turning their relationship into a state secret. The ultimate safety in history, she thinks. Only they two will know the truth. Even her family will have no access.

It's a terribly lonely idea, she thinks, and only not lonely because she will share it, as she has shared her mind, with the Doctor. The momentousness of the idea is a little overwhelming.

Even in her personal life she hasn't quite come to terms with the fact that she will never actually be without the Doctor again. Sometimes she lies awake at night in her room in France, looking out the window at the blue box parked in his garden, in a corner bursting with flowers and a sturdy old tree whose branches gave shade. It's like walking into Eden when she goes to the TARDIS, a feeling that she hasn't assimilated yet.

"I can agree to that," she says.

"Good," Paulette says. "It's a heavy task, but I have to emphasize the necessity of it. Your discretion is paramount in order to maintain the safety of yourself, the Doctor, and your family. It will be a contingency for your job that you maintain your silence. Any leaks are dangerous for all."

Donna nods. "I understand," she says.

"It's pretty standard for UNIT," The major says. "Well, thank you, it's been a very exciting day for us. We'll be in touch for your next in-person report, and meanwhile you and the Doctor can operate from aboard the TARDIS at your discretion." She stands up with Donna, and gives her a salute. "Good luck. Look after him."

Donna finds the Doctor sitting patiently in the vestibule of the building, reading a book he'd probably had stashed in the dimensional pocket of his coat, a suspicion confirmed to Donna when he sees her and drops it right back into his inner pocket. "We're off," Donna says cheerfully to him, and he offers her his arm. The same escort comes to bring them back to the garage to the TARDIS.

"What d'you fancy?" the Doctor asks. "Lunch in Paris? Say... seventeenth century? We're here anyway."

"Lunch in Paris sounds glorious," Donna says. "Today. Here. Now."

So the Doctor parks the TARDIS on the Rue de Richelieu, where they have an exquisite lunch at Juveniles, one of Paris's best restaurants. It's small, charming, and private. They drink wine and eat duck and steak. They talk quietly and intimately between them, since they can't discuss work, and render each other helpless with laughter over their food. At the end of it the Doctor pulls out a magnetic strip card Donna recognizes. "Oh, the intergalactic bank card," she says to him. "I remember that."

"Unlimited funds," the Doctor shrugs. "Money is a stupid concept."

On the streets of Paris, Donna takes his arm again and says, "You're going to have to wear something besides that suit, you know. People will think you're mad. Or dirty."

"I am one of those, but not the other," the Doctor says contentedly. "But fair point."

"You know I don't care what you wear at home, but for going out in public you can't be in the same thing all the time. It makes you recognizable. We're trying to avoid you being 'that skinny bloke who's always in the same suit,' you know."

"Are there any boutiques you prefer?" the Doctor asks her teasingly. "Anywhere I should go and get my suits?"

"Have you ever thought about ordinary clothes? Like a pair of jeans? You can keep those ratty trainers. Maybe a band t-shirt?"

"A what?"

"You know. A t-shirt. With The Pogues on or something."

"You mean like that Scooby Doo shirt you have?"

Donna laughs. "Yeah," she says. "Like that. Ordinary. Normal."

"Normal's a stupid word," the Doctor says. "Wanna walk along the Right Bank?" He gestures. "The Seine is right there."

"What is it with you and rivers?" Donna asks. Then she grins. "Oh. River Song, of course."

The Doctor smiles. "The Thames, the Loire, the Seine, they're all one to me now as long as you're there."

They sit at a small café on the Right Bank for hours, in comfortable silences interspersed with laughter and conversation. When the sun starts to set, Donna puts her coffee cup down and sighs. "You know we'd better go back," she says.

"All right." The Doctor gets up and offers her his hand instead of his arm this time. Donna looks from his hand to his face and they walk away hand-in-hand along the bank.

Inside the TARDIS they move quietly alongside the console, piloting the ship into stable flight. Donna sighs and steps back, leaning against the railing. She looks contemplatively at the Doctor, who catches her eye when he looks up. "What?" he asks gently.

"Nothing," Donna says. "Just... filling my mind up with the idea that you're here to stay for a while."

He comes to her to hug her close, wrapping her up the way he always used to do. Donna sighs again, burrowing into his embrace and clutching him the way she wants to. "D'you have to be married, Donna?" the Doctor murmurs into her hair.

There's a little silence. Donna wraps her arms more tightly around him. "I wouldn't have if I hadn't lost you."

"Are you happy?"

Another little silence. "I thought we were, living the ordinary way we did. But I always knew I wasn't doing enough. I always knew I was missing something," Donna says.

"Do you love him?"

"In my way," Donna says. "He was there for me when I forgot. He was kind to me and he's been wonderful to me. He accepted me as I am. As I was. I can't speak for now until I see how this new life affects us." She unravels herself from his embrace to look up at him. Again, her face is vulnerable. "These are circumstances all beyond our control, right?"

"I s'pose some of them are," the Doctor says.

"What about Rose?"

"She is your beautiful daughter, and anything that is part of you is something and someone I love beyond measure," the Doctor says.

"But not Shaun?"

The Doctor smiles. "He's not part of you."

"You called him your brother-in-law," Donna says, exasperated but smiling.

"And so he is, as long as he's married to you. Just a useful human label to characterize," the Doctor shrugs. "So! Are you allowed to tell me what the Major briefed you about?"

"Er," Donna says. "She made our relationship a matter of national security. Everything we say and do together is entirely privileged, and UNIT has no access to anything except what we choose to tell them. Nor anyone else without a security clearance."

"That means your family," the Doctor says. He gives her a little compassionate look and says, "That could be lonely, Donna."

"Not with you around," Donna says firmly. "That's my compensation, even more than the money. So you don't go anywhere, or it all means nothing."

The Doctor starts to smile, then, big and delighted. "So now everything between us is only between us by international and intergalactic statute," he says. "That sounds like a lot of fun, Donna Noble. We can do anything, remember?"

"It sounds monumental," Donna says. "It sounds like infinite possibility, even more than it did the first time around."

"You all right with it?" the Doctor asks.

"Yeah," Donna says. "Yeah. I am. It's right."

"Good!" says the Doctor brightly, to disguise his emotions. "Let's go home, eh?"

"Yes, please," Donna says.

So when they land in his garden once more, the little ding signal chiming their arrival, Donna settles back against the railing. "Aren't you going to go back in the house?" the Doctor asks, his eyebrows raising.

Donna shakes her head, smiling a little. "Not yet," she says. "I'm going to my room for a minute. I have some things I want to get."

In an instinctive gesture, he follows her down the hallway to the first door on the right, where the TARDIS always puts the door to where its inhabitants want to go.

Donna's room has been stored in the TARDIS memory banks since Donna left, and has been preserved in the state it was ever since, down to the page in the book Donna was reading on her bed. She opens the door into what was her sanctuary, a room where she had everything she could imagine, everything she wanted, everything she needed, and best of all, the Doctor to make her laugh.

"Remember?" Donna asks, and the Doctor nods wordlessly, as if he could speak around the lump in his throat.

"We slept in that bed a lot," Donna says, pointing to her giant, purple-covered bed with the plethora of pillows and huge plush blankets.

"Yeah," he says. "We did. Best sleep of my life."

"You need more of it," Donna says.

"Maybe I'll get more of it now that you're around," the Doctor replies, and Donna huffs a little laugh.

"Anyway, it's an intergalactic secret whether I sleep or not," the Doctor adds.

"Well, what you need is plenty of good food, and lots of sleep," Donna says.

"And joy, and laughter," the Doctor says. "And you."

"I've got all those things," Donna says, putting her hands on her hips. "I just want to grab a few things from here for the house."

In a few minutes she comes out with her clothes changed into comfortable leggings and a sweater. She has an armful of things, including her giant purple blanket to give to Rose for her bed. She has a box full of jewelry and clothing, and a set of Shakespeare editions she'd hidden away because they were seventeenth-century prints, beautifully and expensively bound. "Just some treasures," she tells the Doctor, who smiles at her proudly. "The rest of it can stay here."

She carries them herself to the TARDIS doors and leaves them just inside so she'll remember to take them with her when she goes back to London. "Meanwhile," she says. "What d'you say, should we crack a bottle and sit in the library?"

"Oh, you know I always loved doing that," the Doctor says.

"Me too," Donna says. "Something about being surrounded by books. Comforting. Like sitting in your imagination."

Inside the TARDIS library, somewhere between a medieval archive, a university library, and a cathedral, Donna sits down in the same spot in front of the enormous fireplace (merrily lit as usual) that she always used to, on the red Persian rug that was always soft and comfortable. A moment later the Doctor joins her with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

"You should think about picking an Earth name," Donna says. "People will want to know even if they call you Doctor."

The Doctor shrugs. "Whatever," he says, filling the glasses and handing her one. "I'll pick something serviceable. It'll take me a while to answer to it anyway." He gives her a sideways smile. "I always liked the way you said 'Doctor' anyway."

Donna clinks her glass with him. "To knowing who you are."

"Hear, hear," he says feelingly, and they both take a good deep drink. Donna grimaces and puts her glass down.

"Did you ever in your life?" she asks next, turning herself to face him.

"What?" He does the same so that they are facing each other, sitting cross legged.

"Did you ever, ever think we'd be here again?" Donna asks, and suddenly, unexpectedly she is crying. She surprises herself and the Doctor with the force of her sobs, burying her face in her hands so that she doesn't make noise.

"Oh, god, Donna--" the Doctor says, leaping forward immediately to embrace her. "God, it's all right, I'm here."

Her arms go around him tightly, a feeling he'd been crying out for since the last time she hugged him, and she buries her face in his shoulder. He lets her cry until his shirt is soaked and she is collapsed against him. She never lets go of him, and he draws his hands in long, comforting caresses up and down the length of her back. "Where have you been?" she asks him, her voice thick with tears. "Where did you go, why did you leave me? I was dying without you."

"I died without you," he says back. "And that's why I'm going to live with you now." He holds her against him so that she knows he means it. "And I am so sorry that you were lonely without me. I'm sorry that your hands were ever empty. I'm sorry that you cried. It was my fault for not listening to you, but I couldn't have lived with myself if you'd died back then."

Donna shivers. "I've died twice now," she says.

"But now you live," the Doctor says, kissing her hair. "Now you live with me."

"I've never been so happy in my life," Donna says, echoing him from days before in their garden, eating dinner with everyone around. That makes the tears flow from his eyes, so that Donna wraps him up again and presses her lips to his cheek.

"You can stay," she tells him. "I need you to stay."

They stay in that embrace for a long time. Finally Donna pulls back and moves back onto the floor. "Sorry," she says. "I've wrecked your shirt."

"Don't you dare apologize to me," he says immediately. "I have lived much too long without you to waste our time with that nonsense."

Donna reaches for her glass of whiskey and drinks deep before she speaks again. "I suspect that's going to happen a few more times before I really feel like I've processed it," she says.

"That's okay," the Doctor says. Then he reaches for her hand. "I don't want to make you cry."

"Way too late for that," Donna says. She watches him kiss her hand again, the same way he had so unhesitatingly done on the ship, and feels a few fresh tears roll down her face. "It's all right." She gestures to his glass. "Drink up," she says. "And then you're going to tell me whatever I ask about. The truth." She holds his gaze. "The truth. Even if it's ugly and horrible. Even if you think it makes you look bad." She sees the way he drains the whiskey at that. "And then another day you're going to tell me about everyone who flew on this ship with you." She picks up the bottle and refills both their glasses. "We're going to get that pain out of you one way or another. A million years my arse."

"There's going to be a lot of crying," the Doctor says. "And I've only just got you back."

"Maybe we have got a lot of grief to work through," Donna says. "Maybe you will have to stop being a crazy Martian for long enough that we can take care of each other. Maybe I am the safest person in the universe to tell your secrets to."

There is a little silence then, when the Doctor works furiously to keep his eyes from overflowing again. "Why do you still want to be my friend?" he asks her.

"Why do you want to be mine?" Donna shoots back immediately.

"Because I love you."

"It's the same for me," Donna says. "Fuck you, Spaceman, you're going to make me cry again," she adds, with a slap to his arm that has no force behind it.

"I watched you die," the Doctor says. "I held you while you died. I've only just got you back and I--" He stops to swallow hard. "I still can't understand, but I am so, so grateful to you."

"I understand," Donna says. "I told you." She breathes deeply. "I'm not going to cry again," she says. "I'm not. I swear." She has to stop, which belies her words. "I shared your mind. You and I were one. I've never had that experience before and I never will again. But we were us. There was no line between you and I, however long or short the time was. I can't go back to living the half-a-life I had without you." A thousand yard stare blooms in her eyes that makes the Doctor feel so desolate. "I stared into an abyss for a while," Donna says finally. Then she seems to gather herself. "And now I don't have to anymore," she says. "So I just have to adjust to that."

"So what did you want me to tell you about?" the Doctor asks next. "No more abyss."

"The Flux," Donna says. "I saw it in your head. The Toymaker mentioned it. You can start there."

The Doctor takes a deep breath, and the whole awful story pours out of him like a lanced boil, the infection of grief draining from him in small measure. Donna listens with her hands in his, alternately wiping away tears and wiping away his tears. When he's finished Donna moves back into his embrace, this time climbing into his lap and holding him tightly. "I've waited fifteen years to do this again," she says. Wordlessly the Doctor clings to her so that they can absorb the comfort and still, the astonishment and joy, of being together again.

"D'you want me to take you back to London or do you want to stay here?" the Doctor asks eventually.

"No," Donna says. She doesn't move for a little while longer, and the Doctor huffs a small laugh into her shoulder, his arms going back around her.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Remember when we went to that little island with the campfire city?" Donna asks. "And we just danced by the fires and ate good food and had a good time?"

"Meridion Ten, yes," the Doctor says. "That was beautiful."

"Can we do things like that from now on?" Donna asks. "You told me a long time ago you had so many places you wanted to take me. Can we just do those things?" He can feel her fingers caressing through his hair in the back, the same comforting feeling from so long ago. She used to do this and it made him feel--

"You'd better stop that," he tells her. "I'll take you anywhere but if you don't let go of me I'm going to kiss you, Donna Noble, and we both know that is not a good idea."

"Oh, it's such a good idea," Donna says, starting to laugh. "It's the best idea. I want to so badly."

"To answer your question," he says, pulling back and away from her so that he doesn't tip her over onto her back and kiss her on the floor of the library the way he used to all those years ago, "is yes. I will take you to all those places and more. And you can bring whoever you want."

Donna slides back onto the floor and sighs. "Good," she says. "I need a nap," she adds. "Between the whiskey and the crying I've worn myself out."

"Where do you want to go?" the Doctor asks, unfolding to his feet. He holds out his hand. "C'mon."

Donna gets to her feet and adjusts her clothes. "I think I'd better go back to London," she says. "No one's home in France, right?"

"Nope," he says.

Donna nods. "Fine," she says, smiling a little. "I'd better go back then." She leads him back to the console room, hand in hand, and the Doctor feels an old magnetism in their contact.

At the console, instead of starting the flight sequence, Donna pulls him down by the collar and kisses him deeply, hard, greedily. He responds immediately, pulling her up against him from knee to mouth. "Yes," he says in between kisses.

"Mm-hm," Donna answers, and kisses him until she's finished, both of them a little out of breath afterwards.

"Don't you dare cheat on your husband," the Doctor says, his hands pushing her sweater off her shoulders with the complete opposite intention.

"I won't, I won't," Donna says. She steps back from him, shrugs her sweater back on, and starts to move around the console.

"Swear on my life I'll fuck your brains out," he tells her as he turns the ignition dials.

"I know," Donna says. She smiles at him, a million watts.

"It's a new body," he continues. "All my faculties are fresh."

"So why haven't you gone and tried them out on some French ladies?" Donna asks cheekily. They circle the console, flipping levers, pushing buttons, always a few feet apart.

"Don't want to try them out on anyone but you," the Doctor says. "Bit of a problem, that."

"Ah, well, we can work on that," Donna says. "Our relationship's a state secret after all." The TARDIS hums into stable flight and Donna steps back from the controls. She leans on the railings and says, "You know, the other Doctor was right. You do need a chair in here."

Instead of answering, the Doctor just puts his hands in his pockets. "Stop distracting me with your chair talk." He regards her with a look full of intent. "What about Shaun?"

Donna nods. "I know," she says. "I have to figure out how to explain it to him."

"Has he asked?"

"If we've had sex? No."

"D'you think he suspects?"

"No," Donna says. "He knows as much as my mum and grandfather could tell him, but some things only I know."

"So you're going to ask his permission?"

"Maybe," Donna says. "I haven't decided." She shrugs. "Lots of new things are happening now."

"Don't ruin your marriage," the Doctor says.

"Spaceman," Donna says, coming to stand right next to him. "I won't do anything of the sort."

"Listen," he says. "Look at me."

Donna regards him with the most amused and affectionate face, and he can't help smiling back. "I want you to know that I want you as much as I did before and more," he says. "If you weren't married you'd never have made it out of your room in my house. You'd always be there."

"I'm always there anyway," Donna says.

"Yes. And I love it," the Doctor says. "And I would shag you in every room of that house if I could. You know that."

"I do know that," Donna says. "Would be an absolute joy." She looks him over with the same kind of approving desire she always used to. The Arrival Alert System dings brightly, and Donna smiles. "Right, then, Spaceman," she says. "I'm going to get some sleep. Because I won't sleep if I stay around you." She kisses him many little times on each cheek and then his lips, and adds, "I'll be back."

"You better come back, Donna Noble," the Doctor says, dropping his hands to pull her hips up against his. "Good night."

He watches her pick up the boxes she'd left at the door and leave, his mind moving at light speed as usual. The first time around they'd worked hard to keep their relationship a secret, for fear of exploitation. This time around UNIT has made their relationship an actual secret, for the same reason and more. There was never any concern of pregnancy or risk of disease, so they were free to do as they pleased then.

It won't be different this time. He can already tell.

In the kitchen of the London house, Rose is sitting at the table reading a book. "Hello, darling, I love when you come home for the weekend," Donna says, dropping a kiss on her head.

"Hi, mum," Rose says. "Where've you been, then?"

"Work," Donna says. "Had a briefing. I changed my clothes on the TARDIS." She indicates the boxes in her arms. "Look. I've brought us some treasures."

"From space?" Rose asks, and Donna laughs.

"From space," she says. "And this blanket is for you."

"Ooh, purple, lovely," Rose says. They go upstairs together and spread it onto her bed, where it hangs onto the floor and pools around the bed frame. Rose laughs and jumps right into it, wrapping herself up. "Oh, it smells like you," she says to Donna. "Like your perfume and your shampoo."

"Oh, good," Donna says. "It's been out of use for fifteen years."

"No, I love it," Rose says. "Now. What's in those boxes you brought?"

So Donna settles herself on Rose's bed, and she and her daughter go through the two boxes, laughing like best friends. Donna puts the Shakespeare books aside for her bookshelf, and she and Rose pull out the jewelry box Donna had kept in her room aboard the ship.

"Ohh, wow," Rose says when Donna lifts the lid. "Oh, mum. Look at this, it's a treasure trove." She picks up a necklace, with an intricate pendant of precious stones. "Where's this one from?"

Donna proceeds to tell her the story of each piece; each pair of earrings, each necklace, what was a gift and from who, why she has a collection of Amaran bangles (a story she tactfully edits as they had been part of an offering made to her for something she and the Doctor had done together that was decidedly not saving the universe), the pendant she'd made of a sapphire from the waterfall of Juno's Tears, and finally the simple gold band, at the very bottom, that the Doctor had put on her hand all those years ago.

"A biodamper?" Rose asks. "Mum, this is a wedding ring."

"Yes, it looks like one," Donna says. "But it suppresses biological signal so you can't be tracked."

"Why is it a wedding ring, though?" Rose asks.

"I was in my wedding dress, you know the story," Donna shrugs. "It made sense at the time."

"Nothing makes sense with the Doctor," Rose says. "That's my favorite part of all of it." Then she gives her mother a knowing look. "But he could have given you anything and he chose a ring. Interesting."

Donna smiles wryly as she replaces the jewelry back into the box and shuts the lid. "If you ever want to borrow any of it," she says, "just ask me." Then she yawns, the tiredness from aboard the TARDIS returning in the wake of her excitement. "I need some sleep," she says. "Where's your father?"

"He's out driving," Rose says. "He says he'll be back around nine."

"Right," Donna says. "I'm going to have a kip and I'll start dinner when I get up."

Sleep, of course, is easier said than done for Donna, and has been for fifteen years. For the last fifteen years she's been a bad sleeper, waking every few hours, restless with fear and anxiety. Now with her memories back, she knows what her dreams are, but they are still terrifying. She'd thought those would subside now that the Doctor is back, but it seems it's her own problem. So as tired as she is, it's often hard for her to get into bed and sleep.

So she crawls under her covers and sighs, resting her head on her pillow and attempting to breathe her way into sleep. She is tired, has been tired for as long as she can remember. Even half an hour would be nice, she thinks.

After ten long minutes of lying there discontentedly, Donna goes back to Rose's room to retrieve her blanket. "I'll bring it back," she says, and Rose just smiles and says okay.

Back in her bed, Donna pulls the purple blanket over herself and sighs. She closes her eyes, and tears slip from beneath her closed lids. The instant relief and comfort she feels under that blanket has eluded her for fifteen years. She wipes at her eyes and turns over onto her stomach. In a few minutes she actually drifts off to sleep.

And dreams. She dreams of terror, of running, of things exploding. And then she dreams of pleasure, vividly, of hands and mouths and tongues and the way she would embrace the Doctor with all four limbs, both of them focused entirely on each other. She dreams of sunrises and vistas of sky, and the sound of the TARDIS wheezing and groaning.

When she does finally wake up, it's dark. She looks over at the clock and it says 2:43 AM. She sits up immediately, looking around herself. Shaun is asleep next to her under their regular blanket, and the house is quiet. Donna gets out of bed softly, so as not to disturb him, and goes down the hallway to check on Rose, who is also asleep in her room. So she goes downstairs to the kitchen since she's missed dinner.

In the fridge there is a container of pasta and meatballs, probably made by Rose when she realized her mum wouldn't be up to cook herself. The dishes are done and the counters are clean, so Donna flips on a low light and puts the leftovers into a bowl to heat up. She sits alone at her kitchen table to eat, thinking, thinking, thinking.

It isn't that she doesn't love Shaun-- she does. In fact in a big way she owes him a lot, since he'd taken on the burden of knowing her without hesitation. With her memories back she'd been able to understand more why he'd been so accommodating. But he knows only as much as Wilf and Sylvia, and would never be able to know everything Donna knows. And now, in the face of UNIT's directive, he would know even less. Donna contemplates the unfairness of that, how it would exclude the person who is supposed to be closest to her from the inner workings of her life. It is a lot to ask of one person, and she thinks guiltily she's already asked so much of him. First when she gave away her lottery winnings, she'd been mad with grief and confusion. Then when Rose wanted to grow into herself and Donna insisted, insisted her last name be Noble and not Temple. He'd put up with her, put up with all of it, and complained to no one. For that alone he deserves her love forever. But for that reason he will also be excluded from any future knowledge of her life and her work.

And now, after fifteen years of an unfathomably heavy burden of embarrassment and shame and tears for her perceived ineptitude, for a breakdown she didn't even have, Donna is ready for some joy and some good work. She's ready to stop seeing herself as someone other people only tolerate. She's ready to stop feeling like she only tolerates herself.

And for all his generosity and easygoing spirit, Donna isn't sure how much longer Shaun will be willing to be on the outside of her life. He's been on the outside for so much of her thought process for as long as she's known him that in the end she has to admit she isn't quite sure what made her marry him. She thinks he will probably come to that same conclusion at some point, if not soon at least in the near future.

"Donna?"

Donna looks up from her bowl of pasta to see Shaun standing in the kitchen doorway.

"What are you doing up?" he asks. "It's 3 AM."

"I didn't eat," Donna says.

"Yeah, you were sleeping pretty good so Rosie knocked up dinner before I came home," Shaun says, coming to sit at the table with her. "I didn't want to wake you. I've never seen you sleep so deeply."

"I needed it," Donna says, taking another bite of her food. "You want some?" She offers him her fork.

"Nah," he says. "I just came down to make sure you're all right."

"I'm fine," Donna says. She smiles at her husband gently. "I actually got some decent rest."

"Where did that purple blanket come from?" Shawn asks. "I've never seen it before."

"It was on my bed on the TARDIS," Donna says, without thinking.

"Oh. You had a bed on that ship?" Shaun asks.

"Well, yes," Donna says. "It was my home for a year." She's gotten herself into it now, no doubt. "I had a very nice room and a nice bed, and that blanket was my favorite." She breathes deeply to steady herself. "I've been told by UNIT that I can't tell you anything about what goes on aboard the TARDIS. Intergalactic directive."

"Oh," Shaun says again, and he is quiet. "So you can't tell me anything you do at work? Or with the Doctor?"

"No," Donna says, aware of how he must feel.

"Oh," Shaun says again. "Er. I guess that's for safety?"

"Yeah," Donna says. "State secrets."

"That's quite a directive," Shaun says. "So this means I'm on the outside of your work, too. Like everything else."

"What do you mean?" Donna asks, in spite of having the same thought.

"Donna." Shaun takes one of her hands. "I have known you for fifteen years. And now I feel like I don't know you at all. You saved the world again, you saved the universe, and I have no idea how you did it or what happened. And now you can't tell me." He lets go of her hand. "I want you to know that I see how the Doctor looks at you. I see how you look at him. And this is one of those major life decisions you've made without me. Again."

"I didn't--"

"I'm not angry at you," Shaun says, holding up a hand. "But you obviously have something very big to do with your life, Donna. Something beyond all of us. Something you can't do tied to me."

"What d'you mean?" Donna asks again. She's glad the light is low so he can't see her blushing-- she can feel her cheeks are hot.

"I mean that I've watched you make life decisions that affect both of us without you ever consulting me," Shaun says. "And I've accepted it. I accept you. I always have."

"So then what are you saying?" Donna asks, feeling her heart constrict all at once.

"I'm saying, Donna, that maybe it's time for me to go. I can't keep feeling like I'm going to be a permanent outsider in your life."

There it is.

Donna doesn't know whether to be happy or devastated. "I don't understand," is all she can say.

"I'm nothing here," Shaun says. "I'm no one. Your mum and your grandad know nothing more than I do, but they're old and they're not obliged to know. You're my wife and I don't know you anymore. You're different."

Donna is quiet. "So was it easier when I was the sad one?" she asks. "When I had to depend on you?"

"No," Shaun says. "I hated seeing you suffer. Maybe you don't believe me anymore when I say I love you. But I love you enough to let you go and do this thing that you have to do with your life." He shrugs. "I've accepted you for who you are as long as I've known you. But I don't know you anymore, and even if it hurts, and it hurts--" His voice splits along the seams a little, "I know it's right. You know it's right."

"I don't know that," Donna says, feeling as though she could cry too. Again. More tears. She's so tired of tears.

"Yes, you do," Shaun says. "I think it's time for me to cut my losses. I can't ever smile at you the way the Doctor does. It's not possible. I don't know you the way he does. I didn't share his mind or his ship. And you had a bed on that ship. Am I supposed to believe the two of you never shared that bed?"

Donna knows for sure she is blushing red now. "I..." she says, and then: "No. You aren't."

"All right then," Shaun says. "Look, Donna, we both know this is better."

"Do we?" Donna asks.

"Everything will be all right," Shaun says. "We can sell the house and split the money and Rose can come and stay with me whenever she wants."

"Keep the house," Donna says. "You can have it. We don't have to sell it. It's yours."

Shaun nods silently. "Fine," he says. "That's good too."

"It's the one thing I did right by you," Donna says unsteadily.

"No," Shaun says. "You gave me a child. You made me happy. Now things have changed in ways that none of us could anticipate. But you can't think I haven't seen the two of you in the garden, or when you sit up late at night in the living room just talking. You can't think I don't see that. Where does that longing come from?"

"I can't explain it to you," Donna says.

"I know, your job."

"No, it's not that," Donna stops him. "It isn't work. I couldn't explain it to you before, because I didn't remember. Now I think I understand it even less, because he was gone for so long and he came back for me, and I never expected--" And she is crying, just quietly, because she is so relieved. An unexpected relief. "I never expected any of this. I never asked for any of this."

"So don't you think it's time for you to ask for what makes you happy?" Shaun asks. "If it isn't me, or it can't be me, why would I hold that against you? In the face of all this... space work you do? This is all so much bigger than us. And you are so clearly needed, by the Doctor and by our planet. And we had no idea until now."

Donna lowers her face into her hands.

"It's time to stop being ashamed," Shaun says. "I'm sorry that things aren't going the way you expected but you should know by now that they never will. And I just can't take that kind of danger or that uncertainty."

"I understand," Donna says from behind her hands. She picks her face up. "I said the same thing to him when I first met him."

"But then you spent your life looking for him," Shaun says. "And the two of you keep finding each other in this vast, stupid, unfathomable universe."

Donna nods wordlessly, more tears falling.

"And I've seen you cry so much over these fifteen years," Shaun says. "I've never once seen you have any relief from it and now I think you do." He sighs. "I know you, Donna, or I did at one point. I see the weight off you. I see the way you actually smile with your eyes now. I see how you are different. And because I love you, I want only what will make you happy. Can you want the same for me?"

"I always did," Donna says. "I always did. I never wanted to hurt you or exclude you."

"I believe you," Shaun says. "None of this was your choice, I believe you on that front."

"And I never, ever cheated on you," Donna says.

"I believe that too," Shaun says. "You hardly know which way is up at this very moment. I can't imagine you'd want to go shag some alien bloke when you've had your life upended again."

Donna wipes her eyes. "I'm sorry," she says.

"I know," Shaun says. "You just have to see if from my perspective. I've been on the outside the entire time. I've done my best and so have you. But this is bigger than all of us." He smiles a little painfully. "I thought I knew what you looked like in love, but now... I really know. And I can't be part of it."

"Okay," Donna says. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Shaun says. "But I can't do this life. We have a child we need to keep safe. I can't be shuttled back and forth between two houses and watch you look at that man like there is no one else around you. I see you. There's nothing for me here. So it's time for me to just... have a life I can accept. I'll drive my taxi and I'll do whatever it takes to make a life for myself."

"You won't be alone," Donna says. "I can help you."

"I don't want your help," Shaun says. "I want you to go and do what it is you need to do. That will be the way you pay me back for all these years. Fulfill your purpose. You married me because you didn't know better. Now you do. So be free."

"Is this really what you want?" Donna asks.

"Yes, I think it's right," Shaun says. "We can sit down and tell Rose tomorrow morning so she has the weekend to absorb it before she goes back to school."

"Oh, god," Donna says. "I think this might be the worst night of my life."

Shaun smiles a little bittersweet smile. "No," he says. "That's already happened to you. This might be the best thing that's ever happened to us as a couple. To just... not be one anymore."

So Donna takes her pillow and blanket from the master bedroom and goes to sleep in the spare bedroom, her bowl and cup in the sink unwashed. Shaun stays in the master suite.

In the morning over breakfast they sit down with Rose together and explain what they'd talked about. After her initial surprise, Rose's face turns sad. "And there's no way you can see to work it out?" she asks her father.

Shaun shakes his head. "I can't live like this," he says. "I need stability and I need safety, and as long as I am here, I will have neither of those. And I won't even be allowed to know what your mum does for work. It's too much."

Tears fill Rose's eyes. "Are you sure?" This is to both her parents.

"I think so," Donna says. "I'm sorry. But I think so."

"So what will happen next?" Rose asks.

"I'm going to move to France permanently," Donna says. "And your dad will keep the house in London, and if he decides to sell it, he can. Wherever he goes you'll have a home with him, and you always have a home in France with me."

"Where are you going in France?" Rose asks. "With the Doctor?"

Donna nods. "It's my other home," she says. "Well... it's my home too."

"Does the Doctor know?" Rose asks.

"No," Donna says. "But I will talk to him. He's coming to take you back to school on Sunday."

As it turns out, Donna is not home when the Doctor arrives to bring Rose back to school. She's out at the supermarket, and Rose is big-eyed and anxious when the TARDIS wheezes and groans into the back garden. She gives her father a huge, tight hug. "I love you, Dad," she says. "I'll always love you and I support your decision and I will always be your child no matter what."

Shaun tears up at that. "Thank you, darling. I'll see you when you come home again?"

"I'll be back," Rose promises. "I'll be around. You won't be alone."

"Your mum said that too," Shaun says. "Go. I love you. See you next weekend."

Inside the TARDIS Rose hugs the Doctor too. "You look less than chipper," the Doctor says. "You all right?"

"Yeah," Rose says. "Just thinking about something I can't change." And she says little else until the TARDIS lands with a smooth thump in the side courtyard of the UNIT school campus.

"Thank you," Rose says, gathering her things. "I'm coming home next weekend, if you want to get me. I can always take transport."

"The other kids will be jealous if they see you traveling by TARDIS all the time," the Doctor says. "I'll be back on Friday. Behave yourself."

"Never," Rose says, smiling, and walks off the TARDIS back to school.

For the next week, Donna operates awkwardly around Shaun, moving into the spare bedroom and going to London UNIT headquarters on the tube every morning instead of in his taxi so they can start their work day together. They have small conversations with no malice or arguing, just sadness. Donna comes home to an empty house, and Shaun starts staying out later to drive, so they miss each other in the mornings and evenings.

After the first awful night, when Donna sobbed into her pillows for a while after, she begins to accept that this is a time to move forward. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't for Shaun to decide to leave.

But then what? she thinks. I would have been wearing two wedding rings? Or sleeping with both of them? Or cheating on my husband? Or what? She honestly doesn't know. What she does know now is that she's free. It's terrifying to be standing at the precipice of everything she wants and needs. She isn't sure she's brave enough to take it for herself. She contemplates just being alone, and almost right away has to let the thought go, because it's too late for that. And the thought of being without the Doctor again makes her heart tighten painfully and constricts her breath.

So that next Friday, when Donna has been texting with Rose all day to arrange her dropoff in London, the Doctor comes to collect Rose from school. She still has the same look of worry on her face, and the Doctor frowns a little.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he asks.

Rose takes a deep breath. "I wanted to ask you something, but it's personal."

"Well, you are my favorite niece, and I'll decide what's too personal," the Doctor says.

So Rose just decides to ask it, no hesitation. Better not to. "Do you love my mum?" she asks.

"Well, of course," the Doctor starts, but Rose holds up a hand.

"Are you in love with her?" Rose clarifies.

"Oh," the Doctor says, his hands stilling on the console. "Er, I'm not sure that's--"

"I mean it," Rose says. "I need to know."

"She is married to your father," the Doctor says, resuming the flight sequence with a grimace. "I would never come between that."

"My parents broke up last week," Rose says, and the Doctor freezes. "So she didn't tell you. I thought not. I was wondering where you were."

"What?"

"My father decided he doesn't want this life and they broke up," Rose says. "I think they did the right thing."

The Doctor would be lying if he denied the painful pang of desperate hope and wanting he felt at those words. Instead he just clears his throat. "Is your mum all right?" he asks.

"You're glad," Rose says. "I can tell. You weren't happy she was married."

"Don't be angry with me," he says.

"No," Rose says. "I'm not angry. It's just another big thing we didn't expect. I think my dad is right. And I think my mum is right. So really, this is good."

"Are you all right?" the Doctor asks, knowing he should have asked this first.

Rose smiles a little. "There you are," she says. "You asked about my mum first. That alone tells me what I want to know."

The Doctor sighs. "Well," he says. "Let me get this ship in flight and I'll drop you home. And I'll talk to your mother. If she'll let me."

He enters the Noble house tentatively to find Donna standing in the kitchen, wearing a soft cream-colored dress and slippers. She looks like home. "Hello," she says, waving her spoon. "Staying for dinner?"

Rose kisses her mother on the cheek and disappears up the stairs with a meaningful look at the Doctor, who misses it because he's looking at Donna.

"I could do that," he says. "If you want."

Donna gestures to the kitchen table. "Sit," she says. "Thanks for bringing her home."

"I always will," he says. A short silence elapses. "I heard what happened." He sees Donna's shoulders drop, and she bows her head a little.

"Right to business, aren't you?" she asks him, turning around. "How did you know?"

"Rose," he says.

"Ah, I should've known."

"She loves you, Donna, she wants you to be happy."

"Well," Donna says, turning the heat down on her stovetop. "She told you Shaun doesn't want to be married anymore."

"Do you?" the Doctor asks. "That's the real question. I know you."

Donna takes a moment before she answers. "I don't," she says. "Can I tell you the truth?"

"It's all I ever want from you."

"I would never have married him without losing you," Donna says. "And if I have you back I have what I want, so in a way, it's not so bad." She watches the smile grow on his face, like a break of sun through clouds. He gets out of his chair, takes the spoon out of her hands, puts his hands in her hair, and kisses her. It's a kiss of memory, because they both know this in their bones. And it's a kiss for a new beginning, because they know that too.

"You'd really leave him?"

"He left me," Donna says. "He said he wanted to go. And that he didn't know me anymore, and that he didn't want the life. So I'm letting him go. I want him to be happy, and if he's not happy here, I want him somewhere he's happy."

"So what are you going to do next?" he asks.

"Thought I'd go home with you, didn't I?" Donna says, and this time she's ready for him when he kisses her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to fuck off to France forever and you can work it out?" he asks her, hoping, hoping, hoping.

"Don't you dare," she says. "I would die without you. Knowing what I know. How could you even ask me that? Fuck's sake." She says it with no rancor, but only half-teasing. She moves to stir the fragrant pot of beef mince she'd been working on for a pie. The Doctor winds an arm around her waist.

"Smells nice," he says. "When are you coming home, then?"

Donna smiles in profile, adding a bit more fresh thyme into the mix. "I'll wait til Shaun gets in from driving and I'll bring my things."

"What do you really need from here, anyway?" the Doctor asks. "You have clothes on the TARDIS."

"It's tacky not to move my things," Donna says. "Too much of a reminder. Besides, I always make sure he has a hot dinner when he's out late."

"Wife material, Donna Noble," he says, and she gives him a sidelong look.

"You have no idea," she says, and the tone of her voice makes it something much more naughty and fun. "I'll tell you what you can do," she says, "is not be here when Shaun gets here. Just wait for me on the TARDIS. I won't take long. Rose wants my books and knickknacks so I'll just empty my side of the closet and pack my jewelry."

Shaun gets home around eleven, the Doctor having disappeared back into the ship an hour before, so that Donna is alone in the living room reading. "Hello," Shaun says when he comes in. He sounds normal. Donna smiles a little.

"Hi," she says. "Dinner's in the oven warming up if you want it."

"What's on?"

"Beef mince pie," Donna says. It's an imitation of a conversation they've had a million times, but it's lost its savor.

"Sounds lovely."

"I thought I'd move my things out tonight," Donna says next.

"Oh," Shaun says. "Yeah, okay. Do you want help?"

"Nah," Donna says. "I've got it in hand."

"Are you getting picked up?" Shaun asks.

"Yeah," Donna says, and leaves it at that. "I just wanted to be sure you got home okay before I left. Didn't want to leave Rose alone."

"Ah, she's big, she'd be fine," Shaun says. He goes to the kitchen to dish himself up a plate and Donna goes upstairs to get her bags and goes to Rose's room with her purple blanket. She covers Rose gently, so as not to wake her, and goes downstairs. At the bottom of the staircase she looks back towards the kitchen. "Shaun?"

"Yeah?" he says, looking up from his plate.

Donna rushes into the kitchen and embraces him hard. "Thank you," she says. "I know you don't think I do, but I love you so much. You have no idea how you saved my life."

Shaun hugs her back and she feels his breath hitch. "I'll miss you," he says.

"I know, me too," Donna says, her own voice coming apart at the seams. "You will always be Rose's father, and you'll always have whatever you need. I will never let you go without. I'll make sure." She kisses his cheek, and holds him tight.

"Okay," he says. "I hope you're happy in France, Donna, I just want you to be happy."

"Me too for you," Donna says. She takes a few fortifying breaths before she lets go of him, which hurts much more than she expected, and wipes her eyes. "Well. I'm off, then."

"Yeah," Shaun says, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Be careful."

"Bye," Donna says, her face so sad. But as she takes her bags towards the back door to the garden, where the TARDIS is waiting, she feels herself start to smile. Even through the tears, the joy of knowing that she'll be somewhere she's known and safe and loved, it's all priceless. It's all worth it.

She uses her TARDIS key to get in, and the Doctor helps her move her bags, just like he had fifteen years before. He sees the tears in her eyes and the brilliant smile on her face and gives her a long hug. "Welcome home," he says, the way she had all those months ago when he found his house.

"Oh," Donna says when he lets her go. "That was so much easier than I thought it would be. Thank god."

"Because it's what's supposed to happen," the Doctor says.

"Innit," Donna says, in her very Donna way. "Let's go to France, Spaceman."

"Let's go to France," he agrees. They circle the console in their usual way, and within three minutes they are landed in his back garden in Montresor. It's nearly midnight, so they decide to light the fire pit and sit out in the balmy night air for a while. There isn't much around so the stars are plentiful, and Donna settles herself on one of the loungers.

A free woman, she thinks. That is what I am right now. It wasn't Shaun who was the trap, of course, it was her own memory loss, but still, she feels like something very good is beginning. And though she feels horrible for hurting Shaun, she knows he is right when he says all of this is bigger than them. And though she had never expected him to leave her, she couldn't blame him. She knows him well enough to know that he wouldn't have said anything if he didn't really feel it.

"You all right?" the Doctor asks her, pulling his chair next to hers.

"Yeah," Donna says softly. It's actually true. "It was time."

"it was time," he says. "It was more than time." He takes her hand. "I'm so glad you came home. I was hoping you would." He stops himself. "I mean, I wasn't hoping you'd get divorced, but I was hoping you'd stay with me instead, and I--" He stops again. "Sorry. I'm saying that completely wrong."

"I know what you meant," Donna says, smiling. "Spaceman."

The affectionate nickname has always stuck with him. "I was thinking about something," the Doctor says after a while. "Why this face? Why this me?"

Donna nods. "Any breakthroughs?"

"Yeah," the Doctor says. "I know why this face is back. You were right. I wanted to come home, but you are my home. I wanted to be that man that you loved back then, so here I am again. This is the face you know. It was for you. All of it."

"D'you know what I love?" Donna asks him by way of an answer. "The way you say 'my Donna.' Makes me so happy. Even the not-thing knew about that."

He just smiles. "It's true," he says, shrugging as if it's the most well-known fact in the world. "You are. You always have been."

"I think something is happening here that has never happened before," Donna says. "I think that I am getting exactly what I want and need at the same time for the first time in my life."

"It's all yours," the Doctor says. He sits up. "Hey," he says. "Grandad gave me some biscuits last time he was here, do you want some?"

Donna smiles again at how he calls Wilf "Grandad" now, like real family. "Let's have some," she says. "Why not?" He brings her back a box of Jaffa cakes and another of Chocolate Hobnobs, and Donna laughs. "The most basic British biscuits to exist," she says. "You like a Hobnob?"

"Love a Hobnob," the Doctor says. "Simple and delicious."

"Well," Donna says, taking a Jaffa cake from the box, "we are in France and as such, we will be eating French pastries just as often as these little things." She turns onto her side on the lounger to look at him as he sits down next to her again. "We'll go walking, and we'll take little trips when I have holiday time, and we'll just be." She takes a bite. "It's all I ever wanted anyway," she adds. "Mm, raspberry jam."

"What'll I do while you're at work?" the Doctor asks. Donna smiles with her whole heart at this.

"Oh, will you miss me? Whatever you want except running off to fight aliens," she says. "Don't you have any hobbies, Spaceman?"

"Not Earth hobbies," he says.

"Ah, so something for you to explore," Donna says. "Even the weird stuff. No one has to know what you do."

The Doctor starts to laugh, looking at her earnest face. "That sounds like fun."

"Yeah," Donna says. "You can... tinker, you know? Build things. Paint things. Pick up the guitar. Something like that."

They stay out in the garden talking until nearly sunrise, when Donna drifts off in the middle of a sentence, finally tired. The Doctor, who has different needs for sleep than humans, wakes her up to go get into her bed. "It's Saturday," he says. "You can sleep as late as you want."

Donna's room in the house in France is her own now, furnished with a big comfortable bed, an armchair, tall, rounded airy windows covered with white curtains, and plush rugs. She climbs into her bed with relief and buries herself in her blankets, so that she looks like a little kid peeking out from the covers. "You gonna join me?" she asks him.

"To sleep?" he asks, and shrugs. "Sleep is boring."

Donna smiles immediately, both their faces full of intent. "All right," she says. "I'll be boring for a while." She's still wearing her clothes from the night before, so she discards them piece by piece and tosses them on the floor. "See you, Spaceman. Join me or don't, but I'm definitely going to sleep."

He pulls the blankets down off her to get a good look at her, and kisses her. "I'll never let you sleep like this," he says. "So good night. Or good morning. Come back to me when you're rested."

"Your self-control is something else," Donna grumbles good-naturedly, laying back on the bed without covering herself back up.

"Er, it's not," he says. "It's killing me. But you need to sleep."

"You need to sleep," Donna says.

"Later," he says. "I'm going to go watch some telly and make breakfast. You eat whenever." And with another kiss, his thumb making a short, electric circle on her right nipple, he goes back downstairs. Donna rolls over onto her stomach and actually sleeps.

She finds him at noon in the garden sort of just looking off into the distance. She comes outside in just her bathrobe and slippers, joining him on the chair next to him. "What're you looking at, then?" she asks, and he seems to come out of deep thought.

"Nothing," he says. "Slept well?"

"Never better," she says, exhaling contentedly. "Haven't slept in fifteen years."

"Right," he says, with a laugh of recognition.

"Nice day," Donna comments.

"Gorgeous," he says, looking at her instead of the sky. "Want a coffee?"

"Yes," she says. "Would be amazing."

So he gets up and brings her out a hot coffee with cold milk, just like she likes it, in a flowered mug she'd bought at a shop in their little town. He hands it to her and kisses her forehead so that she tilts her chin up to him to kiss him properly. "Don't spill it," he says to her against her lips.

"Fuck off," Donna says, smiling, skimming her tongue along his bottom lip. She puts the mug down on the little glass topped table next to her. "What do you do on Saturdays, then?" she asks.

"That question has a different answer now that you're here," the Doctor says.

"Oh," Donna says, interested.

"For example, if you weren't here, I might just spend the day doing nothing," he says. "But since you're here, maybe we should take a little trip to Prague or something. See some castles? Have lunch on a tropical island somewhere?"

"Ooh, Spaceman, you do know how to talk to a woman," Donna says, laughing.

"We also don't have to go anywhere, given that robe you're wearing," the Doctor says, giving her a good once-over. "That's all you're wearing, Donna Noble."

"That's true," Donna says. "Get used to it. I live here now and I never had the chance to just be naked. I always had people around me."

"Oh, you'll never hear me object," he tells her. "You're home. I'll have you in every room of this house."

Donna just regards him contentedly, full of desire and happiness. "So," she says. "Did you think any more about that Earth name?"

"No," the Doctor says. "Do I have to?"

"People will ask," Donna says. "They might accept Doctor as a nickname, but you need some kind of name for your registrations and everyday interactions."

The Doctor shrugs. "What are you going to call me? Are you going to stop calling me Doctor?"

"Not unless you want me to," Donna says. "But for other people it's just handy. I'll tell you what; you should ask Rose. She picked her own name. You should see what she says."

"I'll do that," he says, smiling.

"Right," Donna says, draining the last of her coffee. "I'm going for a shower." She gets up and says, "Are you joining me, Spaceman?"

He grins at her. On the TARDIS they never cared to stop their conversation or interrupt themselves for something as trivial as bathing, so the Doctor would often sit by her bathtub or outside her shower, or they would keep a video link open so they could keep talking. "C'mon, then," he says.

Donna has her own bathroom now, since the floor with her bedroom has Rose's room on it and no other. The Doctor's room is on the third floor, a sprawling master suite with an attached bathroom that was nearly as glorious as the one Donna had made for herself on the TARDIS. Her own bathroom is large and airy, with a tub and a shower, and Donna drapes her robe over the towel rack, standing there naked and adjusting the shower to her liking. It's not like the TARDIS which knew her preferred temperatures and which soaps she liked. It's ordinary, and comforting, and the Doctor seats himself on the counter the way he always used to, just watching her with a smile.

“We’ve got to find a little café,” she says, “to be our spot.” She steps into the shower behind the glass door. The glass begins to steam up from the heat of the water so Donna swipes away a swath. “Can you fix it?” she asks. “I can’t see you.”

The smile on his face grows even wider and he pulls out the sonic to press it to the glass so that it won’t retain stain or steam. “Better,” Donna says, as she reappears from behind the steam. “Didn’t have that issue on the TARDIS. Anyway.” She gives him a smile in return. “What was I saying?”

“There’s a café in town,” the Doctor says. “That can be our spot.”

"All right," Donna agrees. "I should work out a schedule with Shaun for when Rose is here. She can decide, of course, but I want to make sure he doesn't miss out on her."

"Her dorm mother says she's coming out of her shell a lot," the Doctor says. "She's a lot happier."

Donna nods, sighing. "Yeah," she says. "She's so smart, but she got tortured by those boys at school and it got in her way."

"You'd never know she had any issues from her grades," the Doctor says.

"That's my girl," Donna says. She lathers her hair with shampoo.

"Now this is what I missed," the Doctor says, watching her as she moves around the shower.

"Ah, you were always the best company," Donna says. She scrubs herself clean, her hair glossy with conditioner. "When are you going to take a shower?" she asks.

"Do I stink?" he asks.

"No, but what's the standard?" Donna asks.

He smiles. "I'll shower every day if it makes you happy, but it's not necessary for me."

"Martian," Donna says, stepping under the water to rinse herself off. She turns off the water and steps out of the shower, her hand out for her towel. The Doctor doesn't move. Donna smiles.

"Are you trying to get a look at me naked or something?" she asks.

"Always," he says. He wraps her towel around her and pulls her up against him.

"I'm all wet, Spaceman, you'll get your clothes wet--"

"Don't give a fuck," he tells her, with an openmouthed kiss that proves his words. He follows a bead of water with his tongue, down her neck to her right breast, and Donna inhales. "Don't even know why you wear clothes around me," he adds. "Especially now."

"Told you, I always had people around me," Donna says, her voice breathless. "Oh, Doctor."

"You want me to pick an Earth name when you say 'Doctor' like that?" he asks, and Donna bites her lip. "You always said it so nice."

"Oh, I'll call you whatever you want," she says, watching him use her towel to dry her body for her. She tilts her head to the side, regarding his bent head. "Having fun?" she asks.

"Mm," he answers, flicking a look in her eyes and going back to massaging the towel along her hips and waist.

She thinks that he looks thin, and tired, but less than he did before. She thinks that even though he is thin and tired, he is filled with a kind of wanting that he's clearly suppressing to the best of his ability. That must be hard work, she thinks. "Oh," she says a moment later, when she feels him rub the towel between her thighs. "You'll never get that dry around you, Spaceman," she tells him, and his eyes snap to her face.

"Good," the Doctor says. Donna gasps again, rising on her toes a little bit when he dips his fingers between her legs. Then he sticks those fingers in his mouth, like he's been in a jam jar, and says "Still delicious."

"You remember," Donna says.

"As if I could ever forget," he says. "I've waited a long, long time for you, Donna."

"Then how long are you gonna make me wait for you?" Donna asks.

"I didn't want to move too fast," he says. "I've only just got you back. Couldn't live with myself if I fucked it up."

"Impossible," Donna says immediately. "You're fucking stuck with me, Spaceman. I'm not going anywhere."

He takes the towel back from around her and rubs his face with it. She gives him a look of scandalized delight. "Why don't you get dressed and we'll go and shop?" he says. "It's Saturday, we should party. Get a bunch of wine and pastries."

"You're no fun," Donna says.

"Oh, I'm so much fun," he says. "I think I made you a promise, something about every room in this house?"

"You did," Donna says.

"But I also promised Grandad some of the green beans from the market, and they're only here today," the Doctor says. "Otherwise he has to wait a week."

"Oh, no, a week," Donna teases, but she is so moved by his care for her grandfather. They're thick as thieves, the two of them, and though the Doctor looks younger he is not. The combination of boyish silliness and wonder alongside the soldier's broken heart in both of them makes them comrades. They can relate, having seen the worst of the worst and still believing in the best. She loves them both to overflowing for it.

"Fine, we'll buy some wine and pastries and beans," Donna says. She turns to go without her towel and the Doctor follows her immediately. In her bedroom he turns her to face her full-length mirror so she can see herself. He stands behind her, his hands on her hips.

"I won't make you wait forever," he says, and points at the mirror. "Watch." And he dips his fingers back down between her legs and doesn't stop until Donna is begging for more and mercy at the same time. "See?" he tells her. "Look at how you look. That's you and me and this is what we're supposed to be doing."

"Yes, yes," she moans. "I want it."

"It's yours," he says. "For as long as you want it."

Donna is pretty sure she can hardly stand for pleasure, but he's holding her up so she won't collapse. "That'll hold you over," he says to their reflection. "Get dressed," he adds. Donna reaches up to kiss him hard, to make him fuck her then and there, but even though he is ready for her (has been ready for her for millions of years) and even though she gets a hand down below his belt and she knows exactly what he likes, he steps back from her.

"So you're just going to edge me all day?" Donna asks.

"Trust me," he tells her, and licks his fingers again. "Put your clothes on, Donna Noble. Otherwise we're getting nothing done today and we need food." Donna grumbles about responsibilities, but gets dressed, the Doctor sitting contentedly on her bed watching.

They are about twenty minutes outside of the town proper, along a bright country lane lined with fields on either side. Donna has bags and a basket, a hat and a pretty blue dress. The Doctor offers her his arm and they make the walk together for a leisurely half-hour.

The farmer's market is in the square of the town, and there are various stalls set up. Donna makes the obvious jokes about the cucumbers and corn on the cob but only so the Doctor can hear since she knows the TARDIS translation circuit means everyone will be able to understand her. Donna notices him squinting in the afternoon sun and hands him her sunglasses. They get a generous portion of green beans along with the rest of the produce and then they stop at the butcher for chicken, the boulanger for fresh bread, and the patisserie. Donna picks out a bunch of tarts and pastries, as well as a big bag of freshly ground coffee beans.

On the walk back Donna takes his hand instead of his arm, and the Doctor takes two of the bags from her so that she's only carrying the basket. "Should we bring him the beans or have him over?" Donna asks.

"Tomorrow he can come over for dinner," the Doctor says. They walk quietly for a while in the warm sunshine. These moments are so ordinary for a human, but there is something golden about it for both of them; aware that in the broad, unfathomable scope of time and breadth of the universe they are on the same path again. And that path is a sunny country lane in one of the most beautiful places in the world, just them. The elegant simplicity of it convinces him this is the right place to be.

Instead of dinner, they eat pastries in the garden like two kids, drinking coffee and laughing over everything and nothing. Afterwards the Doctor keeps his promise about every room in the house (except Rose's room). They end up in his bedroom, Donna asleep with an arm flung over him while the TV plays a movie. The Doctor sits at his ease in a robe, something he's got to try and become accustomed to, his legs outstretched and his ankles crossed. He has his glasses on, providing him subtitles and analysis and tracking his surroundings as he watches. In his left peripheral the glasses keep a running track of Donna's vital functions and sleep pattern.

After an hour or so he moves and Donna makes a sleepy noise of discontent as she feels him start to shift. Her eyes open. "Don't go," she says. "I want you."

The words wrap around his heart like an embrace. "Okay," he says hoarsely, and moves back into the warm spot he'd been in. Donna settles back against him.

“Can’t sleep without you,” she murmurs. She picks up one of his hands and presses his fingers against her temple, then sleepily places hers against his, caressing his cheek as she does so. Instinctively he entrains onto the psychic connection, built of the remnants of their shared consciousness. In the past they had used this connection for sex, among other things, but now Donna just breathes, her sleepiness and contentment in his arms communicated to him without words. So he can feel what she does. She sends him the feeling of sleeping in his arms, so he knows. She sends him little images of them asleep together like a wave of sedative joy. And among all of it is the feeling of wanting, the word stay, the feeling of being protected. And then she sends him a memory of sleepy, easy sex in the dark, aboard the TARDIS in her bed. She drops her hand to wind her arm around him again.

“That too,” he says softly to her.

“Mm-hm,” she says, and her breathing evens out a moment later. He presses three kisses to the top of her head and closes his eyes to see if it works.

When his eyes open again the sun is up, painting stripes of bright light across the polished wood floor. Donna is sound asleep next to him, so he scoots out of the bed quickly and unobtrusively. Just enough time to go to that one bakery on that one street on that one planet that made those moonfruit tarts that Donna loved all those years ago.

Donna's eyes fly open immediately at the sound of the TARDIS wheezing and groaning. She's out of bed faster than she can remember in years, and down the stairs. In the kitchen the Doctor is standing there setting up the French press for two fresh cups of coffee, and Donna nearly skids to a halt. She pushes her hair out of her face, trying to act as though she had not just run down the stairs in a panic that he'd decided to disappear off into danger.

But the Doctor knows her. He gives her a wry, affectionate look and says, "Good morning."

"Morning," Donna says, moving to sit at the kitchen table. "Where've you been, then?"

"Might have been off getting us a little breakfast," he says. He hands her a green paper box from the counter. "Have a look?"

Donna lifts the top and looks for a moment. "Oh!" she says, realizing. "I remember these! They were fruit tarts. From that planet... Alabria. I remember that!" She looks up at him with shining eyes. "Moonfruits! These were so good, weren't they?"

"You remember," the Doctor says.

"Yeah," Donna says. "And no blowing up my head to remember it."

So they eat a leisurely breakfast in the kitchen, and spend the day cleaning and tidying in preparation for Wilf. Around five PM Donna starts to cook. She sets up her Bluetooth speaker and phone and starts to prep and wash. She has filets of chicken, a bag of potatoes, the bounty of haricots verts, and a fresh loaf of bread in the bread box. She puts her chicken in a bowl to marinate, then pulls out a very expensive wooden cutting board. All of her kitchen equipment is top of the line; expensive, high-quality items she'd synthesized on the TARDIS to spare the expense of buying them. She has cast iron everything, chef-quality knives, a stand mixer, a pasta-maker, a waffle iron, everything she ever wanted in a kitchen. She makes quick work of the onions and rinses the beans, spreading them on a baking sheet with olive oil and salt to roast in the oven. She chops fresh herbs, even chiffonades some basil for extra fanciness. In a pan she puts butter, fresh garlic, chopped onions, rosemary, thyme, basil, and tarragon.

The Doctor hears music from where he is standing in his bedroom looking through his top drawer for something he wanted to show Wilf. He looks up from his perusal and follows the sound down the stairs. He goes through the living room towards the kitchen and stops a few paces back. In the kitchen is Donna, dressed in a long green-and-white patterned dress, dancing between stove and counter, her red hair glinting in the light, her hips swaying to the beat. The air smells delicious and comforting. She doesn't notice him, so he stays there for a bit, thinking that he'll never leave this little French outpost as long as she lives.

Partway through a turn Donna spots him and stops, embarrassed at being caught. "Hello, Spaceman," she says, smiling ruefully. She can tell by the silly smile on his face and the look in his eyes he's been standing there for a bit. He always gets that soft-eyed expression when she isn't looking and he thinks she hasn't noticed. "How long have you been standing there, then?"

The Doctor only shrugs and comes into the kitchen, inhaling appreciatively. "The combination of the music, the food, and the beautiful woman in my house just... brought me down here." He melds himself to Donna's body, her back to his front, finally free to be as intimate with her as he pleases. "What's all this?" he asks, resting his hands warmly on her hips as he surveys the chicken sizzling merrily in its herbed butter sauce.

"It is poulet au Provence," Donna says, in perfect French. "And I have the beans in the oven and the potatoes on to boil. So we can go get Grandad when it's just about ready so he doesn't have to wait." She points to the counter. "We have wine, and we have lemons for his water, so besides dessert I think we're pretty set. What do you think?"

"I think that I love you," the Doctor says, pressing a kiss to her head. "I'll go get Grandad and we'll bring you back dessert, deal?"

"Deal," Donna says, and looks up over her shoulder at the Doctor. "I love you too, Spaceman." She puts her hands over his to savor the moment before he moves away.

Half an hour later she hears the Doctor and her grandfather laughing in the garden, the Doctor pushing Wilf's wheelchair along their path to the back door. "Hello, Donna, my love!" Wilf greets his granddaughter cheerily from the door. He's holding a box that turns out to have a strawberry shortcake in it, frosted in fresh whipped cream. Once inside the house, Wilf eases himself into his comfortable chair in the sunroom, and Donna comes to give him a hug.

"Hello, Gramps," she says, smiling. "We got you those beans. It's about twenty more minutes until we eat, so you make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything?"

"I'm going to talk to your Doctor for a while," Wilf says. "If you don't need him."

Donna smiles, flicks an affectionate glance at the Doctor and says, "I never need him for anything, he's all yours." She goes back to the kitchen, humming along with her music.

In the living room Wilf looks around and says, "Looks lovely in here."

"We haven't changed anything since you were here last," the Doctor says.

"I know," Wilf says. "Just homey, that's all. Anyone else here?"

"Nah," the Doctor says. "Don't know if you know what happened?"

"Oh," Wilf says. "Yes, with Shaun. About that. How is she?"

The Doctor sighs, shrugging a little, remembering how she'd looked with her head thrown back in pleasure the night before, wrapped around him in his lap on the sofa where he is sitting. "She's here permanently now," he says. "I think she's going to be all right once the shock wears off."

"She looks happy," Wilf says. "I'm glad she seems to be all right. She sleeping?"

"Now she is, yes," the Doctor says. "She says she wasn't before."

"Yeah, yeah," Wilf says, nodding. "She'd be up most nights until about 4 AM. It made the newborn stage easy with Rosie, though. She was just... awake. She said she had nightmares all the time and that sleeping wasn't restful for her anyway. She refused to take sleeping medicine and just lived with it."

The Doctor looks over his shoulder at Donna in the kitchen, still shaking her hips to the music as she whisks the mashed potatoes into fluffy peaks and adds butter and salt. "My poor Donna," he says. "She's been through a lot."

"She used to say she felt like a refugee," Wilf says. "She blamed herself for forgetting, and she worked really hard to make sure we didn't feel like she was dependent on us in any way. She went right back to work and she married Shaun and soldiered through."

"She must be tired," the Doctor says.

"Not like you and me of course," Wilf says. "But yeah. My girl. She deserves a break." He smiles and chuckles a little. "When she was wee she looked like Little Orphan Annie. Just a head full of red curls like you've never seen before. The other girls used to call her Carrots and make her cry."

"I'd love to see pictures of her," the Doctor says.

"I'll show you some when you take me home," Wilf says. "She tried to cut all her hair off one day but I caught her before she could make the first cut. Sylvia was furious of course, but no harm was done. We asked her why and said she didn't want to be ugly anymore. She was about six, I think."

"My Donna? Ugly?" the Doctor says.

"She was convinced," Wilf shrugs. "She never really got over that hurt, I think. It's always affected her. Ugly and stupid, that was usually her line. And Sylvia was no help, so she never really listened to anyone that told her otherwise."

"I mean, have you seen her?" the Doctor says, pointing towards the kitchen.

"I know," Wilf says. "She's my only granddaughter, she's always been my favorite. She just can't remember." He sniffs appreciatively. "Smell that good food," he adds. "She's got such a talent for cooking." He smiles at the Doctor. "So? How's living with her?"

Wilf can tell by the look in the Doctor's eyes that he's happy. "It's only been a few days of her being here permanently but I never wanted her to go in the first place, so you can imagine how I feel," the Doctor says. He looks as if he could cry from joy again, a look Wilf has seen so often since he returned. "But I think we're going to be great."

"Take care of her for me," Wilf says. "You don't have to marry her--"

The Doctor huffs a laugh. "I wasn't planning on asking, but I doubt she'd say yes to me anyway."

"Just make her happy," Wilf says. "She's been through so much, and she needs you so badly. It's been like watching a horror movie to see her live the last fifteen years. Even with Rosie and all."

"She hasn't said much," the Doctor says.

"I hope she will someday," Wilf replies. "My poor girl."

"You make it sound like she suffered a lot," the Doctor says. "What happened?"

"She tried to kill herself a couple of times before she found out she was pregnant," Wilf says. "But for god's sake don't tell her I told you."

The Doctor is horrified. "What?"

"Yeah, we had to talk her out of it a few times," Wilf says. "Luckily she spoke up every time, but--"

"Every time? How many times was this?"

"Four," Wilf says. "Twice within the first year or so. She kept insisting that she had no reason to live. And this was before Shaun and the wedding." Wilf grimaces. "She was so matter-of-fact about it. She said she'd obviously lost everything and was insane and had no reason to stay alive any longer. She used to sneak out to the garden at night when she thought I couldn't hear her crying. She used to look through my telescope for hours, but she never could say what she was looking for."

Donna comes into the room with a plate of cheese and crackers. "Stilton?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with happiness. The Doctor and Wilf are both looking at her with such tenderness, the Doctor's face a bit helpless with love. Donna's smile fades a little. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," Wilf says. "We were just discussing something."

"Oh," Donna says. "Have a snack, Grandad, it's an appetizer. We'll be at the table in ten minutes. D'you want to eat outside?"

"Sure," Wilf says. "Go on, roll me outside now so I can enjoy the garden while you get ready. Don't you want my help?"

"Absolutely not," Donna says, smiling again.

The Doctor helps Wilf back into his wheelchair and rolls him outside to the table on the patio. He pats Wilf on the shoulder and goes back into the kitchen where Donna is plating up big clouds of mashed potatoes and topping them with chicken and vegetables. She sprinkles fresh parsley on top with a mock flourish and says, "Dinner is served, monsieur."

He takes the little container of herbs out of her hand, buries his hands in her hair, and kisses her thoroughly. Donna relaxes into him after a moment, and when he lets her go she's a little shiny-eyed. "What was that for?" she asks.

"For being here," the Doctor says simply. He picks up two of the plates. "Come on, Donna Noble. Another ordinary night awaits us."

They give Wilf half a glass of wine since he isn't technically supposed to be drinking with his medications, but Donna doesn't have the heart to deny him at least a few sips of the best French vintage they have to offer. The evening is balmy and warm, populated with crickets and cicadas singing in the foliage. They talk and laugh and eat cake, and Wilf stays up until about midnight. Around then he asks the Doctor for a lift back to London instead of staying the night, and murmurs, "I've got a photo album for you." So Donna kisses her grandfather goodnight and lets her two favorite men go off on a ship through space and time, knowing soon enough the Doctor will be back. Wilf's hands are full of fresh green beans in a bag and an extra slice of cake in a tupperware container.

When the Doctor returns he's holding a leather-bound photo album and a little box. Donna has finished the dishes and put away the food and is sitting in the kitchen with another glass of wine and her laptop, just browsing Facebook idly. So he joins her at the table and says, "Look what Wilf gave me."

Donna looks up from her screen and says, "Oh, that's his photo album!" She looks happy. "He loves that old book."

"He said he wanted me to look through it," the Doctor says. "Maybe we can do that."

"What's that?" Donna asks, pointing to the small box.

"Ah," the Doctor says. He pushes the box towards her. "That, is for you."

"From Grandad?"

"No," he says. "From me." He regards her with a bit of trepidation, his tongue braced against his bottom lip.

"Oh, you don't have to--" Donna opens the box and stops. "That's a ring, Spaceman," she says, looking up at him.

"It's not a wedding ring," he hastens to assure her. "it's not an engagement ring or anything like that. It's just... a ring. Made it for you on the TARDIS. I was just thinking."

"It's gorgeous," Donna says, as the low kitchen light catches the stone and metal. It's an exquisite blue sapphire, round and perhaps a carat and a half in weight, set in yellow gold flanked with finely tooled blossoms on either side. Small, perfect diamonds wink at their centers.

Blue for her eyes, blue for the TARDIS, blue for the limitless sky they travel together, and flowers because ever since he met her his path has been strewn with them. He wishes the same for her, since she has brought joy and beauty into his life again.

"It's not a wedding ring," he says again, and Donna takes the ring out of the box. She hands it to him.

"You were the first man to put a ring on me," she says. "It's only fitting you should be the last."

He gives her a speaking look, his eyes full of many emotions, and Donna expects him to pick up her left hand. Instead he goes for her right hand, sliding the ring onto her ring finger and kissing the back of her hand reverently. "So you remember that you're here by choice," he says, tugging her left ring finger gently. "And that you are my right hand."

"I am here by choice," Donna says, a few big tears springing up and rolling down her face. "Sorry," she adds. "I wasn't expecting that." She gets up to get a napkin to wipe her eyes and the Doctor follows her to the counter. She wraps him up tight around his middle. "I don't care about your ship or your time travel or any of it," she says, resting her head against his chest. "I just want you. I choose you."

He props his chin on the top of her head. "Thanks," he says quietly. "I know it's only been a week--"

"Oh, I think Shaun might have made his mind up a while ago," Donna says, her voice a bit unsteady. "I don't blame him. I don't want him to be sad. I don't want him to think I picked UNIT over him."

"You picked me over him," the Doctor says. "Whether you realized it or not, you did. And he saw it. He could have chosen to stay, but then what?"

"I had the same thought," Donna says. She doesn't dispute him. "Where is the line between us?" she asks. "What would I have done? Have two husbands? Worn two rings and pretended like you were a boarder or something? Imagine what Nerys would have to say. I bet she already has the rumor mill at full speed back in London."

"D'you think she'll put a move on Shaun?" the Doctor asks.

"He'd rather eat his own foot," Donna says with certainty, and the Doctor bursts out laughing. Donna sighs. "He's such a good bloke. He's good, down to his bones. He accepted me for who I was, he didn't blame me the way I blamed myself. He stayed when I gave away the money. He stayed when Rose transitioned, and he loves her still just as much. He works hard, and he cares about his family."

"Do you miss him?" the Doctor asks.

"Of course," Donna says. "Yes. But not in a way that would make me want to force him back here. He said he doesn't want this." She sighs, inhaling the scent of his soap and cologne, Earth habits he'd picked up long before he met her. The dual heartbeats thump in concert against her ear. "I s'pose there really is no line between us, eh, Spaceman?" she murmurs.

"Nah," he says, and she can hear his voice resonating in his chest. "Who needs it?" His hands move in comforting circles on her back. "Would you want both of us?"

Donna laughs against him. "Who has time or energy for that?"

"Ah, well," the Doctor says. "I'd rather have you entirely to myself anyway. Don't really want to share."

"Would you have?"

"Of course, if you wanted," the Doctor says. "I would have done anything for you. Anything to keep you in my life. Even stayed away, if that's what you wanted."

"Impossible," Donna says.

"I would also have given up the sex if that's what you wanted and just been your friend."

"Impossible," Donna repeats, and he smiles to himself, glad that she can't see the relief and triumph on his face.

"That's quite hot," he says, tapping her behind lightly and letting her go. "So. Hope you like the ring."

Donna looks down at her hand. "I love it," she says, and she means it. "I will wear it forever."

The next morning Donna reports to the London headquarters of UNIT for work, dropped off as usual by the Doctor in the TARDIS. She makes it her business to get her morning work done quickly, and goes to the Transport Division garage around lunch time. There she quietly puts Shaun's CV and a job application in, and in a week he's been hired as a Transport Supervisor at a salary of seventy-five thousand pounds a year.

Shaun will never know it was Donna who got him hired.

Rose visits every other weekend, always happy to see her mother and always willing to update both the Doctor and Donna on how her father is doing. She tells them about the new job at UNIT, and how Shaun is thriving in his position as supervisor, and how he seems to be settling into the house without Donna more easily than expected. The Doctor leaves Donna and her daughter to talk in Rose's room.

"The two of you should talk," Rose says to her mother. "He's doing okay, but I know he's sad."

"Does he want to talk to me?" Donna asks. "He seemed so final about everything. Like he didn't have anything left to say to me." The thought makes her throat close with grief. "I didn't know what he'd want," she finishes.

"I think he just wants to settle down into a life that's not going to keep being upended," Rose says. "And I can't say I blame him, Mum. We... you did sort of make his life chaos."

To Rose's surprise, tears start to well in her mother's eyes. "I know," Donna says. "I know. It was wrong of me." She wipes her eyes. "Is he angry at me?"

"No," Rose says. "He misses you. But he told me he has no regrets."

Donna lowers her head for a moment. "I hope he knows that I love him anyway."

"Yeah," Rose says, and she feels like she could cry too. "He does. He says he loves you, but that he stepped back for a reason."

There is a little silence. "All right," Donna says. "This is a conversation I can have with him when I see him again. Your birthday is coming up. I want to have a party for you here and your father should be part of it." She sighs. "What is he doing with himself outside of work?"

"He's got friends," Rose says. "He goes down the pub on Wednesdays and last week he took Grandad with him for trivia. He's joined a football league at work, too." She notices her mother seems relieved to hear it.

"And school? How are you?"

Rose shrugs a bit. "You've seen my grades."

"Yes, but your friends? Are they treating you all right?"

"Mum, it's light years away from public school in London," Rose says. "There are other girls like me around. It's just another world."

"And you're happy?" Donna asks.

"Mum, you ask me this all the time," Rose says, smiling. "I'm happy. I'm happy there. I can be myself. And I'm safe."

"All right," Donna says. "I can't ask for anything more."

Rose's eyes fall on Donna's right hand. "What a gorgeous ring," she says. "Where did you get this?"

Donna's eyes go to the Doctor before she can help herself, and Rose smiles. "He has very good taste, doesn't he?" She sees the glow of happiness in her mother's smile, something that she had rarely seen in the past. There is an emptiness about her that has been filled, a sense of completion. Donna just looks... different.

They spend a quiet weekend together, the three of them taking a few trips locally to sit by the river for a picnic. Sunday night Donna is standing in the kitchen cooking while Rose and the Doctor are sitting in the garden, talking rather seriously if their postures are any indication. From inside the warm, airy kitchen, Donna thinks she'll never leave this little French outpost as long as she lives.

The nights are starting to cool off as they approach mid-October, so Rose is wearing a giant hoodie over her clothes and sitting bunched up in one of the lounger chairs. She has been sitting in contented silence with the Doctor for a few minutes, just enjoying her coffee and the evening.

"So," the Doctor says. "What kind of mother is your mum?"

Rose smiles at the look in his eyes. He wants to know everything he missed. She looks over her shoulder at her mother, who is absorbed in her cooking. "She's the best mother I could have asked for in this world," Rose says, and he can tell she means it. "She has been by my side at absolutely every point in my life. She has been my strongest advocate and she has never failed me."

"That's my Donna," the Doctor says, and Rose can hear the warmth with which he says it, the easy possessiveness.

"I would be nowhere without her," Rose says. "She has always accepted me for who I am and protected me as I became myself. I'm safe with her, unconditionally, and that's all a child needs from their mother."

Safe with her, unconditionally, the Doctor thinks. That's my Donna. "What was she like when you were little?"

"The most fun!" Rose says. "She played sports with me, she taught me to read books and music, she taught me to cook and bake." Rose shrugs. "I can't remember a single hurt I had as a little kid that my mother didn't fix."

"That's my girl," the Doctor says again.

"You really love her," Rose says.

The Doctor doesn't hide the fact that he's blushing a little. "Yeah," he says. "She's safe with me, unconditionally." He points a finger at her. "And so are you, miss."

"Yeah, about that," Rose says. "I have to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Mum says you contributed some of my DNA?"

The Doctor grimaces. She had known the answer to this before the metacrisis released itself, but he has to explain it again to her now that it's gone. "Your mum underwent a biological metacrisis, yes," he says. "Her DNA and mine were fused through an energy collision that resulted in a human hybrid being created, that had her humanness and my Time Lord consciousness."

"What?" Rose asks. "So she had a baby with you?"

"No," the Doctor says. "Er... that hybrid was an adult and it grew out of a spare... body part I had lying around."

Rose's face is just like Donna's when she'd heard those words. "So... you're like starfish?" Rose asks. "You lop a bit off and a new one grows?"

It's so like what Donna had said all those years ago that the Doctor has to laugh. "Yes," he says. "In the simplest terms."

"And that means your DNA is in me too?"

"Well... it altered your mum's mind and body forever," the Doctor says. "She ended up with my consciousness too, and my DNA fused to hers. So technically... you have some of my DNA in your makeup. No 23 and Me for you, young lady."

"That's fucking weird," Rose says after a silence. "So do I have two fathers?"

"No, no, no," the Doctor hastens to assure her. "Your father is Shaun Temple. You couldn't exist without him contributing his DNA to father you. You just... have some extra makeup from me."

"So can you reproduce with humans?" Rose asks.

"No," the Doctor says. "I'm physically analogous to human males, but genetically I'm completely incompatible. Even if an egg was fertilized, it wouldn't implant or begin to develop because it lacks the necessary chromosomes."

Rose looks over her shoulder at her mother and then back to the Doctor. "So you two don't have any risk," she says, and the Doctor blushes for real this time. "Well, Mum's also fifty, so she's not getting pregnant."

"Er," the Doctor says again. "Not sure what to say to that."

"Don't," Rose says, starting to giggle like the teenage girl she is. "Don't. Gross. Ew. Disgusting."

The Doctor laughs. "Don't worry about it," he says. "It's not important anyway." He leans back comfortably in his chair. "Your mum said I should ask you about picking an Earth name."

Rose smiles at him. "Well, I picked my own name, so I'm good at that."

"That's what your mother said," the Doctor says.

"Told you, she's the best," Rose says. "What kind of name do you want?"

He shrugs. "I don't care." The fact of the matter is that Donna knows the name he grew up with, his real name, from having shared his mind. She knows that name and she never uses it because she also knows he won't say it. "Sometimes I've called myself John Smith."

Rose scrunches her nose. "Boring. John's not bad, I guess, but not Smith."

"What about Noble?" the Doctor asks. "John Noble?"

"Not bad," Rose says. "Want a middle name?"

"A what?"

"A middle name," Rose says. "My middle name is Margaret."

"Rose Margaret Noble," the Doctor muses. "Pretty. Why not Temple?"

Rose shrugs. "Just seemed... wrong. Mum was okay with it, she told Dad that it didn't really matter as long as I was happy and he'd still be my father no matter what sounds I strung together to identify myself."

That's my girl! he thinks again, so proudly. "What did he say?"

"I think he was a little hurt," Rose says. "But I've always been really clear with him about how I feel about him and that no matter what he'd always be my father and I would always love him."

"Maybe," the Doctor says. "Something with a D. Something for her."

"There's no male equivalent of Donna," Rose says. "Maybe Donald?"

"No," the Doctor grimaces. "Awful name. What about David?"

"John David Noble," Rose says. "Doctor John David Noble. Ooh, Doctor J.D. Noble. Sounds like a physicist or a famous surgeon."

So when Donna leans out the garden doors to tell them supper is ready, Rose gets up and pulls her mom outside. "I think we have an Earth name," she says.

"Oh?" Donna says. "It's about time. Let's hear it." Rose watches her smile soften as she looks at the Doctor, who gets to his feet and clears his throat.

"John David Noble," he says, making her a little bow. "Nice to meet you." He takes her hand and kisses it.

"Doctor John David Noble," Rose chimes in. "Or J.D. Noble, if you want to be mysterious about it."

"I wanted to be sure there was a D. Noble in my name," the Doctor says. He still hasn't let go of Donna.

"Well," Rose says. "I'm going to wash my hands." She sees the look that passes between her mother and the Doctor. She looks over her shoulder as she goes to the kitchen and sees the Doctor wrap her mother up in an embrace. Anyone who cares to look at them can see the devotion between them.

Around the dinner table they laugh and talk as always, and Rose has a glass of wine with them. "I'm supposed to get an assignment at work on Monday," Donna says. "My first."

"Ah," the Doctor says delightedly. "Any ideas?"

"Well, Kate has me under the impression there is a kind of social work department for UNIT?" Donna says. "She referred to it as Intergalactic Humanitarian Relations."

"That sounds good for you," Rose says. "I think you'd be amazing at that, mum. It sounds like you'd be helping people."

"Yeah," Donna says. She looks to the Doctor. "What's it mean?"

"IHR is one of the most important departments in UNIT," the Doctor says. "You'll be the first contact for a lot of people coming to Earth. Most of them will be refugees or victims of crimes. Some of them will be witness protection cases. Some of them will be accidents. It all depends." He takes a sip of wine. "Oftentimes the first contact those people have with Earth can determine their entire future."

"I assume this means I'll need more familiarity with the Intergalactic Code as it pertains to those issues," Donna says. "Have to study up."

"That and the policies on assimilation, protection, identity classification," the Doctor says. "Lots to learn."

"Sounds like school, but infinitely more interesting," Rose says.

"Yeah, better than algebra," Donna says.

"Having bamboo shoved under my fingernails would be better than algebra," Rose says, and everyone laughs.

"You need a maths tutor?" the Doctor asks.

"I don't know why," Rose grumbles. "If my DNA is part-genius, maths should be easier."

Rose goes to bed around eleven PM, and Donna follows the Doctor to the TARDIS parked in the back, where they go to the library and pull out the Intergalactic Code, the Interplanetary Refugee Charter, the Shadow Proclamation's Manual on Interstellar Diplomacy, and several textbooks on the theory of interspecies assimilation and cultural diffusion. There are language manuals and translations for countless cultures contained in Interstellar Diplomacy. It's a massive amount of information. UNIT has designated the Doctor as Donna's training supervisor, so she will take her training aboard the TARDIS and attend in-person seminars as instructed. All told, the department trains for three months after the initial six-month probationary period. This means Donna has reached the end of her probationary hire and is officially appointed to IHR for her 90 days of training.

"We have some options," the Doctor says, spreading the books out in front of them on the big table in the TARDIS library. "We can read, of course."

"Right," Donna says. "And what else?"

"We could... use the psychic connection," the Doctor suggests, raising his eyebrows. "We'd have to go slow to avoid a headache, but you can technically just... learn what I know."

Donna's eyebrows also raise. "And it saves us all the reading?"

"Technically, yes."

"Spaceman," Donna says. "How long have you known me now? Do you think that if I can save myself some trouble I won't go for that option immediately?"

The Doctor grins. "Come here, Donna Noble. Sit down."

"Doctor J.D. Noble," Donna teases him as she settles herself on the sofa. Her smile is full of affection and mirth. "Where'd you get your PhD?"

"Right," he says, tweaking her nose gently. "You'll get used to it soon." He sits down next to her on the sofa and turns her to face him. He touches his fingertips to her temples and Donna flinches away, fast as lightning.

"Ow," she says, and the smile falls off his face.

"Oh, sorry--" he says, and Donna grins.

"Just kidding," she says. "Just payback for that gloop." She settles herself again and gives him a cheeky look before closing her eyes again. His fingers descend on her temples again, and she reaches out to do the same for him. They entrain onto the connection immediately, like stepping from one room to another, and the Doctor can feel Donna's bright, electric, joyful presence in his mind. He feels wrapped in her consciousness like a warm embrace, as always.

Right, he says to her in their minds. I'm going to transmit the contents of the Intergalactic Code. I'll go slow.

Good luck, Donna says.

Tell me if it hurts, he says, and Donna's eyebrows raise but she doesn't open her eyes.

Hurts?

You could get a headache if we go too fast, he responds. Get ready.

He keeps his word about going slowly, so much so that at one point Donna interjects and says, You can't speed it up a little?

Instead of an answer or any acceleration in transmission, the Doctor adds on a second layer of image and sensation, so that Donna gets a full picture of them having sex on the library floor, their clothes scattered around them. That's what I really want, he says. I'll be done soon.

Ooh, that's a nice multitask, Donna says. That'll make this much more fun.

So instead of making his transmission faster, the Doctor simply retains the second layer of sex and sensation to it. By the time he's finished with the code and is sure that Donna has absorbed it, both of them are a little out of breath when they open their eyes. "Right," he says, smiling at her with intent. "Now for your quiz."

He asks her as many questions as he can think of regarding interplanetary refugee policy and cultural crossovers. He quizzes her on the duties of the officers of IHR and where they are limited in their jurisdiction and why. When they get done, Donna settles herself on the sofa comfortably and says, "You do realize, of course, that this makes you my first and most important case?" Her smile is languid and content.

"Oi," the Doctor says indignantly. "I'm not a case, I'm your favorite person to ever exist!" Off her teasing smile he adds, "I don't think caseworkers are supposed to have my cock between their tits on a Wednesday night."

Donna laughs uproariously. "Fair play, Spaceman," she says. "But no, seriously, you're my case number one. My most important, my most personal. My most precious."

"Ah," the Doctor says, waving a hand. "But your file on me is top secret anyway, so it doesn't count."

"Shall we do another?" Donna asks, picking up Interstellar Diplomacy.

"If you like," the Doctor says.

"Yeah, and this time can you also do the sex thing again?" Donna asks. "It's much more fun that way."

It takes about three and a half minutes to transmit the entirety of Interstellar Diplomacy and its appendices, and when he's finished the Doctor leans forward and gives her an openmouthed kiss. "Done," he says. "That's enough for one sitting, you'll get a migraine."

"Well, that saves us a ton of time," Donna says, rolling her shoulders. "And it's fun. I love your active imagination, Spaceman."

"And I love this little telepathy game," he says. "Pretty great."

"Mm-hm," Donna agrees.

"I think it is very fucking hot that you can do that, Donna Noble," he tells her. "You know you're the only human alive who has this ability. Makes you special."

Donna shrugs. "All the better for me."

The Doctor leans back at his ease on the sofa and regards her contentedly. "You're gorgeous, you know."

"Shut up, Spaceman," Donna says. "You don't have to flatter me, I'm already fucking you."

"Oh, now, wait a minute," the Doctor says. "Hang on. Hear me out."

Donna smiles indulgently at him. "Go on, then."

"Do you know what it's like for me to have someone I can talk to?" he asks her. "And it's you, Donna. I missed so much time with you. And best of all you're still you but better." He gives her a once-over she can positively feel. "And you still have all that red hair." Another man would have made her blush but Donna just smiles, a million watts. "The point is," he says, "time is precious and joy is having the time to spend with those you love."

"God, if you are not the wettest, most sentimental--"

"Oh, fuck off," he says, laughing. "I love you, Donna."

She reaches over and picks up his hand and kisses it, lingering for a moment with her vivid blue eyes locked with his. "I love you, Spaceman," she says. "Don't leave me again, eh?"

"You don't leave me," he says. "C'mon, let's go to bed." They lock up the TARDIS and go back into the house together, hand in hand. He's made a nightly habit of going to bed with her, even if he doesn't stay or sleep. The routine is comforting for both of them. Tonight they decide to sleep in her room.

The Doctor changes his clothes and watches Donna shed her clothes and get into pajamas. She brushes her hair through and goes to wash her face and brush her teeth in the ensuite. Just the sheer ordinariness of these actions is inexpressibly comforting to him. No more desolate silences or dark, solitary years. Just the chance to breathe and live in the present, surrounded by comfort. Donna comes back into the room massaging a bit of lotion into her hands and arms and elbows. She climbs under the duvet and holds out her arms. "Come."

He settles himself in her arms, resting his head on her chest. "I hope you stop thinking about how much time you lost," she murmurs to him, placing a kiss or two to the top of his head among the wild spikes of his hair. "It doesn't matter."

He listens to her single heartbeat, his most tangible reminder that she's human, and temporary, and he wants her to stay. He sighs. "I just don't want to lose any more time," he says. "It's been so much."

"And now we've had six months," Donna says. "And four of me living here permanently."

"Best time of my life," he says immediately, fervently.

"Well, it's not going to change," she says. "And I'm not going anywhere. So from here on out, Spaceman, it's you and me."

"And Rosie."

"And Rosie," Donna says, laughing a little. She thinks of her daughter asleep on the floor below them in her beautiful green and blue bedroom that the Doctor had let her decorate any way she pleased. For her upcoming birthday he'd been building her a workshop in the basement of the house, a bright and spacious area with new equipment: a sewing machine, an adjustable table, a comfortable rolling chair, and all kinds of notions and trims and fabrics. He's also building her a packing station, supplied with boxes, tape, tissue paper, a label maker, anything she could imagine. Everything is immaculately organized. Even Donna doesn't know about it yet.

"Donna?" he says into the comfortable silence.

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"D'you... maybe want to stay young?" the Doctor asks. "Like. Not age?"

"What d'you mean?" Donna asks, looking down at him. He tilts his head up to look at her.

"I mean... slow down the cell aging process so that you don't age like other humans and live an indeterminate amount of time with all your abilities and mental and physical health intact?" His eyes are very bare, and in earnest. "I've been wanting to ask you."

"Can you explain it?" Donna asks.

The Doctor makes as if to sit up, but she stops him, too comforted by his solid presence in her arms to let him go. So instead he burrows back into her side and says, "I can do that. And that way you and I can be together for a long, long time."

Donna sighs, and the Doctor feels her fingers carding through his hair gently, comfortingly. "Does that mean I live to a hundred and fifty?" she asks.

"Oh, more like five hundred," the Doctor says and Donna's fingers stop moving.

"What?"

"Yeah," he says. "More like five hundred. Or more. Don't really know."

"What?" Donna asks again.

"You don't have to, you can forget I asked, but I just thought--"

"No, wait," Donna says. "Wait." She sits up and so does the Doctor. "Wait. So you're offering me five times the human lifespan?"

"Or more," he confirms.

"Where was this the first time around?" Donna asks.

"I was much too stupid and young and inexperienced to know what I needed then," the Doctor says. "But you're back. And I just thought I'd ask. You don't have to."

"So what does that mean?" Donna asks.

"It means you will outlive everyone. Rose, Shaun, your mum, everyone you know," the Doctor says. "It's not for the faint of heart. But then again if I thought you were fainthearted, I wouldn't have offered. My Donna can handle the prospect."

Donna nods slowly. "All right, Spaceman. Let me think about what that means."

"Are you all right with watching Rose grow old?"

"Doesn't every parent want their child to live a long, happy life?"

"Yes, but you'll be young still."

"And you won't do it for her too?" Donna asks.

"No," the Doctor says, simply and matter-of-factly. There's nothing else to say. Donna nods again.

"Right," she says. The implications of his refusal are enormous, but then the implications of their entire existence and relationship are enormous. "So only me."

"You're part of me," he says, another factual, simple statement. "And I'm part of you. That's how we ended up here. And that's all I care about ultimately."

Donna is quiet for a few moments. "You know," she says. "This is like a marriage proposal but much more serious."

"I have no plans to ask you to marry me," the Doctor says. "You know how I am about Earth rituals. Rituals in general."

"Yes," Donna says. "But you're asking me to commit to an unknown lifespan with you, because if we were ever not together, I would just be some medical miracle lady who no one knew when I was gonna die. I don't want that. And I don't want to live indefinitely without you. So you'd have to be able to assure me we'd be together, because I can't live centuries without you. There's no point. I'd be lost."

"Right," the Doctor says.

"So I get to keep you?" Donna asks, her palms turned upwards in a gesture of inquiry.

"You will never lose me," he says, and the truth of the statement rings in its simplicity.

"Well," she says. "Then what else is there?"

He practically knocks her over with the force of his embrace. "Fuck's sake," Donna says softly to him. "You're mine, Spaceman. You can have a happy ending."

There is a short silence and then he bursts into heartrending sobs, more forceful than she has ever seen from him. She knows he works hard to keep himself in check, and the most she'd ever witnessed was a few tears, but this is real. She clutches him close, curling her fingers into his back until her knuckles are white. "I'm here," she murmurs. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm here."

He makes very little noise, but she can feel how the sobs wrack his body, the way his chest and stomach heave and wrench with the pain. She rocks him just a little, resting her cheek on top of his head. She wants to end the pain for him but she also knows he needs the catharsis. So she rides it out with him, never once letting go of him, only shifting to murmur softly to him or kiss his head or redouble her embrace. When he starts to calm down, she presses her fingers to his temple so she can send him comforting sensations and images. He refuses to reciprocate the connection to spare her the onslaught of emotions. "You're the only one," he says to her, his voice hoarse. "You're the only one that can do this for me."

"Do what for you?" Donna asks gently.

"Make me feel better," he says simply. "I don't know what I would do without you anymore." He sits up and takes both her hands in his. "If I'm going to live it has to be with you. I need you. I couldn't tell you that the first time because I had nothing to lose. Now I have everything and I need you. That's why I asked you."

"So what was that?" Donna asks. "Me saying yes made you cry."

"Relief," he says to her earnestly. "It's relief. I was terrified I'd have to watch you grow old and die married to another man, and when he left you I didn't dare hope, but now--" He sighs a great sigh and rubs his face. "I don't have to worry anymore. We can just be."

"I did wonder about that," Donna says. Then she gives him a little smile. "Too bad you couldn't have stopped me fifteen years ago, eh?"

"Oh, you look exactly the same," he says.

"You fucking liar," Donna says solemnly, and he laughs a little through his tears. "It's more about my knees and my back than my hair," she adds.

"Ah, I'll take care of that," the Doctor says, waving a hand. He reaches out to cup her cheek. "Take all the time you need," he says. "It's not a snap decision." He can feel how Donna turns her face into his palm, seeking comfort he knows she's been without. He leans forward to kiss her gently on the lips. "Take all the time you need," he says again. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Can't take too long or I'll get even older," Donna says.

"You don't mind stopping at fifty," the Doctor says.

"No, I like myself," Donna says, and she can say that honestly now. "I know who I am, I love being a mother, and I love my work." She settles herself back among her pillows and holds out her arms. "Come back."

So he wraps himself around her again and breathes another great sigh of relief. "Tale your time," he tells her. "It's on offer. I just don't want to live without you."

In the morning they drop Rose off at school together. Just before they open the doors to the UNIT London office, the Doctor takes Donna's hand. "See you later?" he asks.

"Obviously," Donna quips, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You'll have to explain this whole slowdown process to me when I get back."

"Don't worry," he says. "You'll get the full information."

"Oh, I know that," Donna says, and kisses his smiling mouth. "See you later."

He's had to learn to distract himself in different ways while Donna is working, so the Doctor has joined a local engineering club in a town about an hour north of Montresor. After attending a few meetings and deciding they're a good group of people, the Doctor had discovered at the last meeting that one of them was his neighbor. His name is Laurence Miller, and the Doctor had also met his wife Simone at the last meeting when she came to pick him up. They are both about sixty, married for forty years, have three kids who are all grown up and left the nest, and a retired life in the countryside after living in Paris and Nice for most of their earlier lives.

For an experiment in his ongoing trial of living like an ordinary human, the Doctor plans to invite Laurence and Simone for dinner that Friday evening. When he runs the idea by Donna at the end of her workday, her eyes actually fill up.

"Oh, Spaceman, you made a friend," she says proudly.

"Oh, fuck's sake," the Doctor says, grinning. "I have lots of friends."

"No, but," Donna says. "You made a friend that you can be a friend with for a long time. Someone who can stay around. Who is he?"

"His name is Laurence Miller, and he has a wife called Simone, and he's part of my engineering club," the Doctor says.

"What does he call you?"

"John, mostly," the Doctor says. "Jean-Davide doesn't really trip off the tongue, and the French rarely abbreviate. And 'le Docteur' is a bit off-putting."

Donna laughs as she circles the console, the flight sequence automatic under her fingers. "What do you think we should make?"

"They said they'd be interested in anything we have to offer," the Doctor says. "So I'd say priority number one is good wine."

"Ah, but of course," Donna says, in an exaggerated French accent. "Life is pain, zat is why we have wine."

"Exactly," he says. "I'll make lamb shanks and potatoes and you can handle dessert." He adjusts several dials. "Can you make more of that fresh whipped cream with the vanilla?"

"'Course," Donna says.

"Make extra," the Doctor says, giving her a smile full of intent.

"Right," Donna says, catching his drift. She throws the thrust lever and they take off with a smooth boost.

"You're so good at that," he says. "Great takeoff. If you can land her just as nice as me I'll let you fly her solo."

"Let me?" Donna raises an eyebrow. "Mate, I don't want to fly this ship without you unless it's an emergency."

"Fair enough," he says, and Donna turns her attention back to the console to prepare for landing. She manages it with a slight thud, and gives the Doctor a smile and shrug.

"That was easy," she says.

"Smug," the Doctor says.

"Fucking right," Donna says, and walks to the doors of the TARDIS. "I am going to change my clothes and collapse in front of the telly, what d'you say?"

"Telly's a bit boring for me," he says. "I'll sit with you but I'll probably do something else."

"Fair enough," Donna agrees.

They end up with Donna draped over him on the sofa, both of them covered with the same blanket, limbs tangled. He has a book and she is watching a nature documentary narrated by David Attenborough. Donna listens to his heartbeats thrumming in concert, steady and calm. He feels solid, and less thin than he had been before. Well, she'd been sure to feed him rich meals and good wine, and ate all his experiments in the kitchen with him. She'd made him a regular at the patisserie and the boulangerie for bread and sweets. Between the sound of David Attenborough's voice and the steady drum of his heartbeats, Donna is lulled to sleep.

The Doctor notes the slower rhythm of her breath and moves his book aside to look down at the redheaded woman in his arms. Now moments like this don't have to be secret, confined to the TARDIS, snatched in moments of brief reprieve where the knowledge thereof could destroy their privacy. Now he can just be with her. So he tilts his head down to press a kiss to her head and goes back to his book. If he can have this, keep this... it will be all he needs.

When Friday rolls around the Doctor spends most of it cooking and shopping while Donna is at work. It's Shaun's week to have Rose in London so they are free for the weekend.

Donna, meanwhile, has been given her first cases as part of the IHR department. That day she witnesses shivering refugees from a war on a planet located in a star system adjacent to the Milky Way Galaxy. There are about 45 of them, mostly children, blank-eyed and numb. With Donna are a second agent from her department, and a team of nurses, doctors, and therapists. The refugees are people from the planet Harbara, which has been historically a target of invasion due to its location in its star system. Another invasion has taken place, this time by a more advanced civilization, and they are the last of their city. Donna is responsible for processing their intake, and helping to direct them to housing and medical care. She knows everything she needs to thanks to her training and the Doctor's work with her, but the impact of seeing these people leaves her shaken. They are confused and terrified, hungry, some injured, others seeming to have lost their grip on reality. One little girl won't talk to her at all, but only cries, clinging to Donna like a mother. That little girl has a bloody wound on her arm that stains Donna's shirt purple, but she won't speak. The nurses take her from Donna, whose eyes are streaming tears, and another IHR agent called Danielle Charles, a veteran of the department, reminds her to get herself together.

"You can cry later," Danielle whispers to her. "They need you now. Be strong." Her own voice is a little unsteady, and Donna breathes in and out a few times.

"Yeah," she says. "Let's help."

The intake lasts the rest of her workday, and when Donna finally gets back to her office, she is exhausted and worn out. She takes her things and goes to the garage to wait for the Doctor to arrive, which he always does, right on time. Almost as soon as the TARDIS wheezes into view Donna breaks down. She gets her key out and goes into the ship, shutting the door behind her and leaning on it.

His face, in his usual big bright smile to see her again, falls right away. "Oh," he says. "What happened, Donna?" He sees the bloodstains on her shirt and neck. "Oh, no. Come here." He wraps her up tight. "What happened?"

For a moment she considers telling him about the invasion. But she knows in her bones that her Spaceman will want to help, will want to go to Harbara and fix it, and that can't happen. So instead she turns her face into his chest and lets the tears fall, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't ask any more questions until she lets go of him. "Just work," she says. "Saw a lot of hard things today."

"Like what?"

Donna shakes her head. "Don't want to talk about it."

"Donna--"

"No," she says, cutting him off. "I don't want to tell you. You'll want to go running off to fix it and I can't have that, I need you--"

"Okay," he says gently. "Okay. Let's go home, then." He starts to circle the console. "You don't have to help me fly."

Silently Donna ignores him and starts to assist in the flight sequence. She throws the lever before he can and stands wordlessly, watching the central column of the TARDIS glow blue-white, its components working away. "D'you want to cancel dinner tonight?" the Doctor asks.

"No," Donna says. "It'll distract me. When are they coming?"

"About eight thirty, I think," he says. He kisses her temple and slips an arm around her as they wait for the TARDIS to land.

"Okay," she says. "It's fine, I'll be fine as long as I have you."

When they land in the garden in France, Donna goes straight to the bathroom to wash off. "There's no weird alien disease I can catch from this blood, is there?" she asks as she scrubs herself at the sink.

The Doctor, perched on the bathroom countertop, shakes his head. "It's just blood, like yours and mine."

"It's purple," Donna says.

"Yes, less oxygenated."

"Is our air safe for them to breathe?"

"Sure," the Doctor says. "Whoever it was might be a little lightheaded at first, but they'll adjust."

"What color is your blood?" Donna asks.

"Red, like yours," the Doctor says. "Maybe redder, with the two hearts and all. More oxygen being processed."

Donna flings her stained shirt aside and strips off the rest of her clothes. "Might as well change for dinner," she says. "I'm thinking I'll make a strawberry cake for dessert."

"Ah, what a good vehicle for that whipped cream I like so much," the Doctor says, attempting to lighten the mood. Donna smiles a little bit. "There's my girl," he adds.

Her bundle of clothes in one arm and her other hand holding his, Donna pulls him into the bedroom with her and seats him on her bed. She goes to her closet and pulls out two dresses. "Purple or blue?" she asks.

"Neither," he says, and Donna turns to put the dresses back. "Something else?"

"Nope," he says, looking her over. She smiles at him.

"Spaceman," she says. "You're no help."

"Thank you," he says. He gets up and slides his hands around her hips. "I like the purple," he says, giving her the lightest kiss. "You can wear that one without a bra."

"Spaceman," Donna repeats, scandalized and delighted as he goes out of the room.

"What?" he asks innocently over his shoulder. "No pants either, all the better," he calls as he starts down the stairs.

She hears him thump merrily down the stairs and smiles to herself. She decides to wear pants after all but no bra, just for him. She can always put a sweater on.

Down in the kitchen the Doctor starts to prepare his lamb shanks and potatoes, and Donna joins him, retrieving her apron from the pantry. "Ah, perfect," he says, turning from the pile of potatoes on the counter. "Just the way I like it." He reaches out and nudges the neckline of the dress aside so that one pink nipple is exposed. "Leave it like that."

"Spaceman," Donna says a third time. "There is fire in this room. Do not subject my breasts to fire. I thought that went without saying. It's a ground rule."

He laughs and leans down to kiss her nipple, pulling the fabric back into place. "Fair enough," he says. "Take what I can get." He slants her a cheeky look. "I'm determined to distract you tonight."

"It will be appreciated," Donna says. "Meanwhile, who are these people you've invited to our home?"

"Laurence is about sixty, I'd say?" the Doctor says. "So's his wife."

"Yeah, and they call you John," Donna says. "I'm gonna have to practice."

"Oh, speaking of that," the Doctor says, and Donna turns from the fridge where she is getting out the ingredients for a cake. "I know how you can practice." He dances her back against the kitchen island and hooks his fingers in her neckline again, dropping his mouth to her neck and collarbone. His hands pull her skirt up her thighs and his fingers skim between her legs. "Oh, you did wear pants," he says, lifting his mouth from her neck.

"I did-- oh, yes," she says when he runs his tongue along her throat. He's an expert at this now in a new way, a better way than before. He always did what she liked but now he can get her off fast and efficiently and deliciously. He sucks a nipple up into his mouth, laving it thoroughly. She doesn't say many more words until he feels her wind up and her mouth opens.

"Say my fucking name," he says to her, and Donna's eyes squeeze shut in utter pleasure.

"Oh, John," she moans. "Oh, fuck, yes."

"Amazing," he tells her, continuing the motion of his hand. "Sounds fucking great."

Donna gives him a lustful little smile. "You like it?"

"I love it," he says. "it was a good choice of a name." He pulls his hand out from under her dress and Donna covers herself back up. "There. Now you've practiced."

Donna goes back to the refrigerator. "I'll work on it," she says. "We'll need to do a bit more practice as we go." She sets out her ingredients: milk, eggs, butter, sugar, flour. She has an expensive stand mixer on the kitchen island and she whips up a simple sponge in no time. While her cakes are baking and the lamb shanks sautéing in the pan, Donna changes out her bowl and adds fresh vanilla and a bit of vanilla extract to a saucepan of cream on low heat to let the bean infuse the cream. When she's happy with it, she puts the cream in the mixer with sugar and whips it until there are stiff peaks.

The Doctor moves around her efficiently and within two hours there is a meal and a strawberry shortcake thickly frosted with whipped cream. Donna retrieves two bottles from their wine storage cabinet and the Doctor sets out four wine glasses. Then he faces Donna and holds out a hand. "John Noble," he says.

Donna looks down at his hand.

"Practice," he says.

"Donna Noble," she says, without shaking his hand.

"Rude," he says, shaking his head at her. "Can't even shake a bloke's hand after he's had it in your knickers."

Their doorbell chimes, and they both look to the front door.

"Perfect timing," Donna says, grinning. She goes for the door and on the threshold is an attractive older couple, smiling and holding a shopping bag. "Hello!" she says.

"Hello, darling," says Simone, the wife, and she and Laurence give Donna the customary two kisses on each cheek.

"Come in, come in," Donna says. "John's in the kitchen." She commends herself for how naturally she said his name. She makes Simone and Laurence comfortable in their living room, and they hand her the bag which turns out to be filled with cheese and bread, which she puts out for an appetizer. She pours everyone a glass of wine and seats herself comfortably with the couple.

The Doctor comes in to join them a minute later, taking a glass of wine from Donna and smiling contentedly. He seats himself next to her on the arm of her chair, one arm around her. "Welcome to the house!" he says to Laurence and Simone. "We've done lamb shanks, potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and strawberry shortcake."

"Ah," Laurence says, raising a glass. "Sounds perfect."

"Tell us about yourselves," Donna says. "We're so glad you're here."

"Well," Laurence says. "As you know I met your husband at our engineering club. He's extremely smart."

"Thank you," Donna says proudly, not bothering to correct the mistake as she would have previously. Even back then she'd been starting to give up, since everyone seemed to take for granted that she and the Doctor were married, even without rings. It doesn't matter anymore.

"He told me the two of you just moved here a few months ago," Laurence continues. "How are you liking our little French outback?"

Donna smiles. "I love it here. Private, quiet, everything we could ask for."

Simone nods. "That's what drew us here too when we retired. After our youngest son left home, we decided no more Paris."

"How many children do you have?" Donna asks.

"Three, two sons and a daughter," Simone says. "The youngest is twenty-six now, so we've done our jobs. Do you two have children?"

"I have a daughter from my first relationship," Donna says. "With my ex-husband. She's fifteen. And we don't plan on having any children." She looks to the Doctor. "John, what d'you say we light the fire pit and have all this wine and cheese outside?"

"I'll help you with that," Simone says, and she and Donna start to gather the wine and food. The Doctor opens the garden doors and goes to check on his lamb shanks. Laurence follows him to the kitchen.

Out in the garden, where the late October air is mellow and cool, Donna arranges the food and wine and takes the top off the fire pit. Simone stops her, taking her right hand. "What a magnificent ring," she says, looking at the sapphire. "And flowers, how lovely."

Donna smiles. "Yeah, he gave it to me about a month ago," she says.

"Ah, so you are married to a romantic," Simone says. "Lucky you."

"Isn't Laurence a romantic?" Donna asks. "John tells me you've been married forty years."

"Oh, yes," Simone says. "I never would have married him if he didn't have poetry in his soul."

"Well said," Donna smiles, arranging the wooden logs in the fire pit. It's a big round structure made of stacked stones and mortar, polished and rustic looking. She pulls out a long match and strikes it, setting a pile of tinder under the logs aflame. "There we go. Give her a few minutes and she'll be big and bright." One of her sweaters is already draped over the garden chair from earlier that day, so Donna puts it on over her dress. She makes herself comfortable with Simone and smiles. "Welcome."

"Merci, darling," Simone says. "You look very happy."

Donna takes a sip of wine through a smile. "I have, in fact, never been so happy in my life."

"Well, what woman doesn't want the privilege of saying that sentence?" Simone toasts Donna, who clinks glasses with her. "To loving the love of your life."

"Hear, hear," Donna says, looking back over her shoulder at the men in the kitchen. This little masquerade as an ordinary happy family is so achingly needed by Donna, who has waited so very long to feel this feeling. They are talking animatedly about something scientific, no doubt, and Donna smiles softly. He needs friends so badly, friends with no obligations or strings or betrayals. In all honesty, so does she.

"How long have you been married now?" Simone asks.

"Oh..." Donna says. "It's a very long story."

"Oh?" Simone says. "Do you care to share it?"

Donna takes a great deep breath. "I met him fifteen years ago, before my daughter was born, and he... we... fell in love. Tried to deny it. And then we were separated by force and we lived our lives apart, and he found me seven months ago."

"Oh, my god," Simone says, putting her glass down. "He came back."

"He came back," Donna says, and the enormity of it chokes her for a moment because she's seeing it from someone else's perspective since it all happened, and recanting it makes her realize she hasn't been living in a dream for nearly a year. She clears her throat. "Sorry," she says.

"That's quite a story," Simone says. "No wonder the two of you are so closed off here. Your home is like an enclave. A lovely hideaway."

"Yes," Donna says. That is entirely deliberate, even beyond the rules of UNIT for their safety. "I don't think we've really recovered from being apart for so long. We just don't want to be disturbed."

"How incredible," Simone says. "How did he find you?"

"I think he was looking," Donna says, and while that's not strictly true, it's how it had evidently played out. "And I just knew I had to be with him. He's part of me. There's no line." Then she seems to realize she's been pouring her heart out to this lady who barely knows her. "Excuse me," she says, a bit sheepishly. "I know I'm gushing--"

"Oh, no," Simone says. "Do you think I don't know what a woman in love looks like? It's lovely. I wish you happiness and peace, you've clearly earned it."

If you only knew, Donna thinks. Sometimes she sits in her garden and just looks at things. She knows that she is even still alive because of her own heroic actions, though she never seems able to really absorb that fact. It's part of why she's still so surprised to be so thoroughly loved by this brilliant man. She has never truly absorbed that she has saved the actual entire universe before in her life. Even without that he would love her, but that's an idea Donna can't yet accept. Maybe now knowing that she had saved everyone everywhere at one point in her life, even if it cost her half of herself, gives her a reason to think maybe she's earned his love and this life.

"Well surely you can see him with Laurence," Simone says. "He's alive with joy." The men are laughing in the kitchen while the Doctor plates the food for everyone.

"Yeah," Donna says. "Isn't he just." She's so glad. She looks back at Simone. "Me too."

"Mesdames," Laurence pokes his head out the garden doors. "Shall we eat around the fire?"

"We can do that," Donna calls back. "Do you need help?"

Laurence shakes his head. "No," he says. "You stay there. Entertain my wife. She gets up to no good when she's bored." He goes back inside the kitchen. "Your wife is quite a lady!" he says to the Doctor, who smiles proudly and doesn't bother correcting him.

"Isn't she just," he agrees.

"How long have you been married now?" Laurence asks.

"Tell you the truth, mate," the Doctor says. "We only found each other again seven months ago."

"Again?" Laurence says. "You were separated?"

The smile on the Doctor's face fades. "Yeah," he says. "And I didn't... I don't think either of us ever thought we would see each other again, but I had to look for her. I had to know she was all right."

"That's quite a love story," Laurence says. "If you don't mind me asking you, what separated you?"

"War," the Doctor says, which is as close to the truth as he can get.

Laurence's smile fades. "Oh," he says. "Forgive me, you don't have to say anything else."

The Doctor shakes his head. "Sorry for bringing the tone of the evening down. Why don't we get out there?"

Laurence puts a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "You don't have to worry about that. Simone and I have always been grateful for our boring lives." He and the Doctor go out with two plates each, and join Donna and Simone around the fire.

And for the next few hours they laugh and talk with Simone and Laurence like any ordinary people, until around one in the morning. They've shifted position so that the Doctor is sitting behind Donna with his arms around her. "We'd best get on the road," Simone says, yawning. "What excellent wine."

"Thank you," Donna says, a bit tipsy herself. Laurence, ever the responsible driver, has nursed a glass for the last hour or so.

"You light an excellent fire," Simone says, getting to her feet. "An evening to be applauded."

Donna makes a little bow, and she and the Doctor see Simone and Laurence to the door. Once they're in the car and driven away, Donna turns to the Doctor. "So, John," she says playfully. "Did you like our little performance tonight? Our Regular People Show?"

"You did very well," he says, and Donna makes another little bow.

"And so did you, Spaceman," she says. "If I didn't know better I'd say you had a good time."

"Ah, but luckily you know better," he jokes, and Donna nods.

"I do," she says. "No, but really. Did you? We can do it again." She watches him go back to the garden to gather the dishes instead of answering her. "We can, if you want," she says again.

The Doctor puts the dishes into the sink. He turns to her. "You had to know that tonight was a dream come true for me," he says. "I can't remember the last time I felt so at peace." He goes back out to get the wine glasses to avoid the moment, and Donna takes them out of his hands when he gets back inside the kitchen.

"Spaceman," she says, and the word is filled with so much love. It makes him stop and listen. She's really the only person he'll listen to anyway. And it helps that she looks so pretty just then, in one of his favorite dresses with a cozy sweater over it, her hair shining in the warm kitchen light. She smells like perfume and wine and that essence that is entirely hers, one that humans can't detect but that he can, and that comforts him.

"We'll do it again eventually," he says, ambivalent about it all.

"Don't you like them?"

"Yes," the Doctor says. "Of course. Laurence is a good bloke. I just... maybe we don't really want a bunch of people around us?"

Donna smiles. "Security concerns or you just don't want to share me?"

"Call it both," he says. "In equal measure." He tilts his head towards the sink. "I'll do the dishes if you put out the fire."

"Deal," Donna says, and he watches her walk back out into their thriving garden. He watches her douse the flames and turn off the firepit, putting the round metal shell back over the top. When she walks back inside, closing the garden doors behind her, he comes to pull her back in by the waist.

"Do you really mind that it's going to be a show from here on out?" he asks her. "Everything we do as normal people is a show."

"Well, yeah," Donna says as if it's obvious. "'Course it is! No giving away the game."

"Might wear on you."

"Oh, please," Donna rolls her eyes. "It's literally the best secret in the entire universe. Why would I mind keeping it?" She tilts her chin up to look at him properly. "I live with a time traveling alien who's a billion years old and mysteriously never dies, and who is going to confer upon me the closest to functional immortality that exists with the added bonus of super-slow aging so I get to keep my fabulous hair. You think I can't put on a couple of dinner parties a few times a year for that? A Christmas here or there? For the entire universe at my feet for as long as I can imagine?"

He pulls her in to kiss her and Donna says, "Speaking of which, Spaceman, when does my youthful journey begin?" instead of kissing him back. She feels the Doctor huff a laugh against her lips and closes the gap between them, kissing him deeply.

"Let's say tomorrow," he says. "I have more important things to do now."

"Like dishes?" Donna asks.

"Fuck no," he says, pulling her by the hand up the stairs.

He does do the dishes of course, after, when Donna is lying contentedly on her bed. She just smiles at him languidly when he gets up and puts his shorts back on. "I'll be back," he says.

Before long Donna can hear the hum of the dishwasher. She pulls a blanket over herself and thinks about what she's been offered. The chance to outlive everyone. The chance to see her daughter through an entire life, and to stay the same as she is now. The chance to be loved, as long as she lives, no matter where in the universe she goes. The chance to love, to be free to love the man she thinks she was always destined to know. The chance to exist, to no longer be invisible, lonely, defective, unimportant Donna. How could anyone turn that down?

And she'll be useful to UNIT and IHR for as long as she's able. Think of how many people she could help. How many wounds she could heal, how many psyches she could repair. How much progress she could see and help to come to pass. She can do good for as long as she can.

And for love, she can give up the normal life. It was never much for her anyway. So when he comes back into the room she is solemn. "So tomorrow I get to live forever," she says, resting her chin on her hand on his chest.

"Not forever," he says. "But yeah."

"Will it hurt?"

"I don't know," the Doctor says. "It's a process invented by Gallifreyans alongside the regeneration technology. Regeneration doesn't hurt, but you never know." He squeezes her a little. "I won't let you suffer."

"And it'll work?"

"It's been used before for scientific and legal purposes," the Doctor says. "So yes, it works. But you'd be the first and only human to ever have undergone the process."

Donna rolls her eyes. "How many more times is that going to happen to me?" she asks, smiling. "The first and only human to undergo a metacrisis. The first and only human to engage psychically. The first and only human to get awards from aliens for heroism. You know. Old hat for me now, Spaceman." She gives him a playfully wicked look. "I'm special."

"Yes," he says. "Finally, you get it." It's nine million people... who cares about me? And out of nine million, out of eight billion, out of the infinity, she will always be the one. For her, he will live the normal life.

In the end it doesn't hurt. Donna goes into the TARDIS with him at sunrise, since neither of them managed to sleep but instead talked until the sky turned light again. She goes to the medbay with him, and clings to his hand until he helps her onto the bed. "Don't be scared," he tells her. "On the other side of this is our life."

"How long is it going to take?" Donna asks.

"Don't know," the Doctor says.

"You don't know much," Donna says softly, without rancor.

"It's never--"

"Been done on a human before, I know," Donna says, finishing his sentence. She squeezes his hand. "Here we go."

He pulls out the Chameleon Arch and connects to the mainframe of the TARDIS processor. He gives her a look full of affection and love as he places it on her head. She reaches up to adjust it and breathes deep. "I'm gonna turn it on in a moment," the Doctor says. "Stay with me."

She nods, and a moment later she feels her entire body go rigid, as if she has been bound in straps. There is a prickling sensation, a great shrieking ring in her ears that makes her wince, and then she is shivering uncontrollably. It seems to go on for ages, but eventually Donna feels her body slow and still. She is out of breath and a little shaky, but she opens her eyes to see the Doctor still standing there. He looks concerned and scared, until she says, "Blimey. What the fuck was that?"

He makes a noise between and laugh and a sob, pulls the Chameleon Arch off her, and helps her sit up. "You all right?"

"I feel fine," Donna says. "Maybe a bit dazed?" She gets to her feet and stands still for a moment, the Doctor's hands hovering on either side of her to catch her if she falls. She looks down at herself. "What now?"

"Er," the Doctor says. "I think we're done."

"Oh," Donna says. "Good. I could use a giant meal and to sleep for days."

"Those are good side effects," the Doctor says. "There we go. Let's go eat and you can get into bed."

Donna ends up sleeping nearly a full 24 hours afterwards. She wakes up feeling no different physically. When she comes down to the living room the Doctor is sitting there attempting to look as if he has not been anxiously checking on her for the last day and night to make sure she's still breathing. He'd been resisting the urge to wake her up for nearly that long. He smiles with relief when she joins him on the sofa. "Status report?" he asks her, only half-playfully.

"Er," Donna says, considering. "I just slept the entire day and night, right?"

"Yep. Hungry?"

"Maybe?" Donna asks. "So now what? Is something supposed to happen?"

"I'm pretty sure it's what doesn't happen that will tell us we were successful."

"What time is it?" Donna asks.

"About 3:30 in the morning," he says.

"I love these weird hours with you," Donna says. She moves to nestle up against him. "I feel exactly the same."

"Good," he says. "Time will tell, as usual." He hands her the TV remote. Their TV is wi-fi enabled, of course, and it's hooked up to the TARDIS computer via said wi-fi, so they can get any programming they want, past or present, Earth or not. Donna settles on reruns of Seinfeld, since she had discovered it during their long, happy, timeless nights together. She stretches out so that her head is resting on his chest. He puts his arm around her, under her arm so he can rest his hand on her breast. It's an easy, possessive move, and Donna smiles to herself, hoping he can't see it.

After a few minutes, Donna says, "I can't decide whether this show is funny or not."

"The audience thinks it is," the Doctor says. Donna huffs a little laugh.

"Is it a laugh track?"

"Maybe," the Doctor says. There is a comfortable little silence.

"Will we always live here?" Donna asks.

"If you like," the Doctor says. "We can go anywhere if you get bored of France. We just have to let UNIT know. We have time."

"Yeah," Donna says. She puts her hand over the Doctor's. The sapphire ring glints in the light from the TV.

They finally do have time.

[kaija-rayne-author]

DA 4 Veilguard predictions

Okay so I wanted to get a whole ass post about what I think is likely to happen in DA 4 done before the reveals but I haven’t had the time between work and life.

There are MASSIVE spoilers for every Dragon Age game, book, comic, and most internet theories in this post. Proceed with caution.

Also I swear like the truckers I grew up around. So CW on language.

First and foremost, I’m going to warn you all that I’m a die-hard Solavellan. If you don’t like that? Don’t bother reading this. And for gods’ sake don’t bother arguing with me about it. Depending on my mood, I’ll either first roast your face off and then eat it with bbq sauce or if I’m feeling generous, I’ll just block your ass. You like what you like about games. I’ll like what I like. I don’t shit in your porridge, I ask you to not do it to me. As I’m writing this, I’m 47 years old and I’ve been gaming since I was 9. Which means I’ve been gaming longer than a lot of you have been alive. Stop yucking on people’s yum. There’s far too little joy in this world. Go find your own.

So, this is just a partial post (albeit, in true to me fashion, an incredibly LONG one XD). It will cover stuff I think we might see revealed in things this weekend at either SGF or Xbox whatever (I have no idea why they’d bother with the Xbox thing since they hold such a small share of the gaming market these days but whatever.) We’re seeing something between Friday and Monday. Hopefully, enough to give hope to the masses.

Depending on how much time I have before I have to serve dinner I might add some more of my theories.

It’s a bit silly of me to be so obsessed about this game because my computer definitely won’t be able to handle it, and because I’m a disabled, neurodivergent author with a family to support… well… the likelihood of me being able to buy both a computer able to handle it and the game itself any time in the near future isn’t good. So, I won’t be able to play it. I am going to add my links and a go fund me to the bottom of this post (which has taken me hours to research and write so if you would like to donate to the cause I would be so deeply appreciative. Dragon Age is one of my AuDHD special interests, and it’s killing part of my soul to know I can’t participate when it comes out. I promise I’ll write all sorts of interesting stuff about it!)

But I can’t help myself. Letting my research-oriented, lore-obsessed brain noodle about Dragon Age is one of my very favourite special interests. So, without further ado… here goes!

CLASSES

I think we have a good chance of seeing some of these as playable classes.

Knight-Templar ❌

Lord of Fortune ✅

Antivan Crow ✅

Mortalitasi (Nevarran necromancer) ✅

Grey Warden ✅

Shadow Dragon ✅

Shaper/Carta/Kal-Sharok/Sha-Brytol Dwarf ❌

Veil Jumper ✅

Fen’harel Fanatic (not his usual people, the fanatical ones detailed in Tevinter Nights) ❌

Companions

A lot of these ideas come from the supplementary material that I’ve read at least three times each. I’m obsessed. What can I say?

Qunari: ✅ Tal-Vashoth Sarrebas, maybe Qwydion? ❌

Rivani Lord of Fortune: ✅ ‘Hollix’ maybe? That would be fun, plus they are canonically non-binary! Please please please? With sugar on top? ❌

Tevinter Mage/Magister: ✅ Maevaris Tilani ❌ would be so cool, but I’d be equally as happy to see Neve Gallus. ✅ Honestly, they both have benefits for me. Mae is trans and Neve has a prosthetic leg. Alternatively, I liked Myrion ❌ well enough that he’d be a cool companion too. And he’s canonically bisexual from what I read between the lines.

Grey Warden: ✅ Please let it be Antoine! ❌ (Antoine absolutely has ADHD and I would love to see more of that rep in a AAA game.) Evke ❌ could be fun too.

Templar Knight-Commander: Rana Savras ❌

Spirit Companion: I really hope it’s not Audric. 1. He’s not really a spirit, he’s a higher undead, which is a Zombie by any other term. And all the poor guy wants is to organize his library. I’ll be quite disappointed with the writers if they go this route.

So, we’ve had Faith/Wynn, Justice/Anders, and Compassion/Cole. There are two other widely known benevolent spirits in Dragon Age canon. Valor and Hope. Given what I think is gonna happen in DA4, my money is on a Hope spirit. ❓

Antivan Crow: ✅ Illario Dellamorte. ❌ (I really really hope it’s not Lucanis Dellamorte. 💩 He’s so damned annoying and gods that is NOT how an assassin operates. Here's my professional editorial opinion of why Lucanis is an absolutely terrible character.

Veil Jumper/Dalish/City Elf: ✅ Strife. ❌ Please please please? He’d be so awesome as a companion character. He’s not young! I want an older companion character. (And it would let them get away with the white hair on a darker skinned character without it being racist as fuck.) I just really hope he looks better than he did in the comics. The art style in those was just fucking terrible.

I am hoping that we can somehow romance Lace Harding. ✅ But I just don’t see how she could fit in with the reported likely classes and things I’ve personally considered.

That gives me 8 even though reports say we only get 7. But did you notice in this picture that there are 8? So either we’re gonna get a ‘secret’ companion like Loghain Mac Tir. (Three guesses who that will be and the first two don’t count.) Or they have a surprise for us. Or the art is off.

I could also see Kieren ❌ as a companion. (Morrigan’s son) He’d be just about old enough if we get the time jump reports are saying we will. He was roughly 12 in DAI. + 2 for Trespasser puts him at 14. Ten years minimum between Trespasser and DA4 puts him at 24. So, it’s possible. I could also see Vaea as a companion. But I’m not exactly sure how she would fit with classes.

Potential Advisors

Some of these I’ve got as potential companions as well because I could see them fitting either.

Dorian Pavus for Tevinter Magisters (I think this is very likely given Tevinter Nights.)

Maevaris Tilani (Same as above.)

Charter (I think we’ll see Charter stepping into Leliana’s place as Spymaster given what we saw in Trespasser and Tevinter Nights.)

Myrna/Audric (Mortalitasi)

Ramesh (Grey Wardens)

Genetivi (Scholar) (given what happened in Tevinter Nights I have a feeling we’ll be seeing him again under a new name)

Viago De Riva (Antivan Crows)

Andarateia Cantori (Antivan Crows) I’d love to see Zevran again but considering what he was up to in DAI I think it’s unlikely. Although something did happen in Tevinter Nights that might make it possible.

Lavellan: With how the story in DAI ended and what we saw in the end scene of Trespasser, I think they’ll be important in some way.

Fenris: (Wandering Warrior)

Cameos we might see:

Fenris

Isabela

Arishok Sten

Antaam Rassan

Kieren (Morrigan’s son)

Zevran

Vaea

Sebastian Vael

Viago De Riva

Andarateia Cantori

Lavellan

People I don’t think we’ll see or if we do it won’t be for long.

Cassandra (thank gods)

Morrigan

Leliana (sads)

Most of the cast of DAI and the previous games.

Bosses we’re likely to fight.

Solas. He’ll be a mini-boss and maybe one you can talk out of a fight.

FleMythal

Elgar’nan ✅️

Ghilan'nain ✅️

Andruil. She and Ghilan’nain often go together.

Critters/bad guys we’re likely to see.

Bone creatures from the necropolis.

Changed darkspawn/humans from Ghilan'nain’s labs. ✅️

Tentacley sea creatures from Minrathous and other ‘experimented upon by mages’ monsters.

Werewolves may make a comeback.

Antaam.

Venatori. ✅

Fen’harel Fanatics (these are different from Fen’harel agents).

Whatever or whoever the people across the sea are.

Carta dwarves

Titans

Sha-Brytol dwarves

Antaam Rassan

Antaam

Things I think we’re likely to see.

We’re going to see trans/non-binary rep. ✅ I deeply believe this is happening. I will be so sad if I’m wrong.

Sad as I am to say it. Varric is gonna die. The writing has been on the wall in drippy red marker since they fired his writer. I hate this, personally. I grew up listening to Brian Bloom (Varric’s VA) and he’s just one of my absolute favourites. But I don’t think Varric is gonna make it.

The how? I think, narratively, they’ll do it in a way that hurts Solas a very great deal. In DAI, Varric is one of the few people that Solas listens to. Apologizes to and actually talks to with a sense of respect in his tone that he rarely does with anyone else. Given events in the comic The Missing where Solas saves Varric several times… yeah. ✅️

If I were writing it? It would be an angsty as fuck scene where either something Solas does accidentally kills Varric in a friendly fire isn’t friendly sort of situation or that Solas can’t get there in time to save one of the few people he actually probably considers a friend.

So, the pain of Varric’s death will be what in the writing/editing trade we call a pinch-point for Solas’s character arc. How the player decides what happens will likely be one of those crucial choices matters points that will turn Solas down a darker path or possibly toward a redemption arc.

Flemythal isn’t dead. I’ve talked before about how she is not the happy fluffy bunny version of a mother goddess. Sure, she might be a mother goddess. But she’s the type that reminds us that mother nature is often more red in tooth and claw than nurturing.

And the lady is bent. Bent on revenge. Bent on using people to get her revenge. Just… if she ever was the good and kind person that Solas remembers? She definitely isn’t anymore.

I have a feeling given one of the stories in Tevinter Nights that FleMythal has infected Solas (vs sharing her power in a simple power up to help him save people move) with the dragon soul. Which could have been part of Mythal's soul even before the dragon had it, if some theories are correct. There’s been a lot of imagery and description of a dreadwolf like creature that is half lupine, half dragon. So, something is going on there.

And honestly, I think that’s going to be Solas’s breaking point with mommy dearest. (Please, please don’t let them have been lovers, that will squick me out so fucking bad.)

“Betrayal is always worse.” Is one of Solas’s really heartfelt lines in DAI. If I’m right, and FleMythal somehow manipulated that dragon soul she got from Kieren (talk about fucked up action right there) so that it’s gonna change Solas into a half dragon half wolf demon thing… welp.

I think FleMythal will find that Solas has a bit more backbone than he ever had in the past. He’s not alone now. He knows he’s not alone. He’s got friends. He’s got someone who deeply loves him in a romanced Solavellan playthrough. I don’t think Solas is going to be very happy with his dearest ‘best of them’ Mythal.

Best of them? Yeah. It doesn’t mean she was actually good.

So Mythal isn’t dead. I think she’s likely to be one of if not the BBEG along with whoever that voice was at the end of the teaser. My money is on Troy Baker ❌️for the VA and I’m really curious if I’m right. I’m thinking that’s probably Elgar’nan. God of Vengeance. Perhaps Mythal and Elgar’nan patch up whatever divine argument they’ve been having via celestial couples therapy or something. Who knows.

I think we’re going to see a split path depending on the choices of the player for Solas. Depending on our choices, he could go really dark, or he could have a redemption arc. Patrick Weekes tweeted to me that ‘there’s a possibility of a happy ending for Solavellan’ so I still have hope. I trust Weekes to write a satisfying conclusion to the Solavellan Romance. (I just don’t trust Bioware as far as I can throw them.) Weekes was the lead writer on this game, so I think it’s a good possibility that that’s how it’s going to be structured.

I think the game will very possibly be a multi-act structure like DAI. The first act is possibly going to be like the Hinterlands leading up to Coryphyfish blowing the hell out of Haven. I think the veil coming down is going to either be what starts off the game ✅ (like the explosion of the conclave in DAI) or will be the final ending situation of Act 1. Again. Player choices will likely affect this to some extent.

But y’all? That veil is coming down. ✅ And yes. I’m aware of that silly new name for the game. I don’t like it. (That ‘the’ was a mistake. Veilguard by itself would’ve been much better linguistically.) But if you’ve been following my ramblings about Dragon Age for a while, y’all will know I have issues with their linguistic usage and editing already.

Dumped Drunk and Dalishious did a fantastic piece on her blog about the veil. It’s here if you haven’t read it. Firstly, the veil was never meant to exist in THEDAS in the first place. If you deep dive the lore (and trust me, I really have. A LOT.) It’s obvious that the veil has been the cause of more problems than it has fixed. It’s been slowly killing magic in THEDAS since its creation. It has to come down. It’s also as holey a granny’s doilies anyway. Solas taking it down in a controlled fashion is very likely going to prevent far more deaths than if it keeps just falling apart piecemeal like it’s been doing forever. It’s unfixable and it really really needs to go. ✅

So once that veil drops… I don’t think it’s going to be as horrific as everyone has been bellyaching about forever. Solas’s often misquoted and wildly overblown lines from Trespasser (seriously do y’all even know what the word genocide means? You make me doubt.) are very likely a red herring at best. People are being willingly misled. ✅ I can’t really blame y’all.

Weekes is an absolute Master at playing people’s expectations and assumptions off of their preconceived notions, then throwing a bomb of ‘oops you were all wrong and it was right in front of you the entire time’. They’ve even said they really love to write things like that. I want to write as well as Weekes does when I grow up.

Humans existed before the veil. Why wouldn’t they afterward? Given some of the lore, Qunari also existed before the veil. Why wouldn’t they continue to? Will there be chaos? Yup. ✅ But change is often painful. And if anything needs change it’s the world of THEDAS. (Both for story reasons and for gameplay reasons.)

One of the changes I think we’re likely to see is the implosion of the Chantry. (I am absolutely hoping for this. I’m not a fan of organized religion on a grand scale like that and the Chantry has soooooo damned many skeletons in its closets and atrocities under its belt that I will absolutely celebrate when it burns to the ground.)

Which will happen if it comes out that Solas put up the veil in the first place and took it down too. The Chantry either outright claims or strongly insinuates that the maker put up the veil. It’s the cornerstone of their entire faith. Also, in the story Genetivi Dies in the End in Tevinter Nights, Genetivi is absolutely wrecked by the discovery that everything he’s ever written as a travelling Chantry Scholar has been a lie. The Chantry is going down.

So, there’s gonna be some chaos there. And that’s not going to be Solas’s fault because that veil is coming down anyway.

And can you imagine the absolutely hilarious chaos that’s gonna happen when word leaks that an elven god-mage was the one who is technically the ‘maker’ by Chantry doctrine? With all the horrific racism and sheer awfulness the Chantry has done to elves over the centuries? I’m popping popcorn.

I think we’re gonna see Felassan again. ✅️ Cause that elf isn’t dead. And no, Solas didn’t kill him. Please trust me, I’ve combed through all the lore, I’ve read The Masked Empire where it supposedly happened several times, and there is not a shred of actual proof that Solas was the one who did the deed. It’s a Weekes misdirection again. They've got the nickname Tricksy Weekes for a reason.

The actual facts about the 'murder'.

It was someone Felassan worked for.

Someone he knew.

Someone who he knew wouldn't listen to his reasoning. (Solas has been shown to actually listen to his friends and let them change his mind.)

Someone who could very likely have been female because Felassan likens the murderer to Brialla.

It was someone who could fade-walk or move in the fade.

Mythal can do that.

A Somniari/Dreamer can also fade-walk.

Probably most of the still extant Elvhenan can do it (which there were quite a few of in Mythal’s temple).

And we know from DA2 that at least one modern born Somniari/Dreamer exists in the world.

Point being, there’s no actual ‘Solas killed Felassan’ spelled out anywhere. No, not even in Cole's lines in Trespasser. Those lines only indicate that Solas knows about Felassan’s ‘death’ and that he’s sad about it. Cole talks in riddles and references to modern TV shows all the time. I have no idea why people take him even remotely literally.

I have a few theories about this.

IF Felassan’s spirit actually was killed in the fade (possible) his body wasn’t. His body would’ve been just lying there in the woods breathing like any other Somniari. Possibly made tranquil (which we know can be reversed).

What if Solas lost his original body in putting up the Veil?

What if he had a deal with Felassan or maybe came to Felassan to help him get back to his body after the attack and Felassan decided he was done and wanted to move on?

They're said to be friends. Never said to be employer/employee.

If Solas was awake and in the fade and sensed an attack on Felassan, he'd certainly have gone to help.

What if he gave his body to Solas?

Felassan's 'death' chronologically lines up to when Solas 'woke up'.

Felassan has purple eyes. So does Solas.

Felassan has fade-green magic. So does Solas.

Felassan is incredibly powerful. Stares at Solas.

Felassan knows far more about Fen'harel than even a scholar would.

Felassan knew far more about Eluvians, ancient Elvhenan, and The Forgotten Ones (Imshael is a Forgotten One) than anyone would reasonably expect any elf to know.

Felassan let Imshael see into his head about what was coming in the future. Which Imshael almost got off on. Imshael loves destruction and chaos.

I can make a list as long as my arm on similarities there. So, either Solas didn’t kill Felassan and the old? Felassan will be in the game once the veil falls, or it will be revealed that Solas has actually been wearing a (voluntary because a soul cannot take a body involuntarily) Felassan suit the entire time.

Probably blew some minds there, huh?

So given that Weekes has said that if Felassan was a popular enough character they would consider bringing him back… I think it’s likely we’ll see something to do with him again.

Also? The sheer hilarity factor of elves who do not want magic (Fenris anyone?) getting magic returned to them is going to be sweet.

I think we’ll see blood magic as a much bigger mechanic than in previous games. (And I hope they did some work on it to make it make more sense this time.) The game is going to have a lot of Tevinter content. Blood magic is a big deal there. Ergo… it’s likely.

Given some of the things that happened in Tevinter Nights, which honestly really feels like a teaser book to DA4 (I really hate the Veilguard name) I think it’s likely that we’ll see the Templars again. They’ve been in every game and book so far. I doubt they’d get rid of the useless bastards in this one.

Given some of the things in Tevinter Nights, I think it’s possible we’ll see just as many puzzles as we did in DAI, if not more. I’m hoping for more. I do love puzzles in these kinds of games.

I believe it’s highly possible that whoever drank from the Well is going to be completely fucked. Especially, if they follow a ‘kill Solas’ route. Remember who the well binds you to in Trespasser? Bingo.

I think it’s very likely that someone close to the main character is going to be a dual agent of Fen’harel. And it will not be someone we expect. We’re all gonna be side eyeing the mages after the last three games. But what if it’s a warrior or rogue who hides their magic? There was at least one character that completely hid their magic in Tevinter Nights.

We’re going to see more of the Evanuris and The Nameless/Forgotten ones. I base that on Imshael being in DAI and in Masked Empire and some of the dialogue between Felassan and Imshael.

Titans. We’re going to see the titans waking up and being royally pissed off. This is going to cause so much chaos for the dwarves. Who will also regain magic and a kinda creepy hive-mind thing, too. Again. That’s not going to be Solas’s fault.

We’ll have at least one Gala event. Very possibly in Minrathous or Vyrantium. Hopefully with better clothing.

Finally, for things I think likely… The Grand Necropolis in Nevarra is gonna burn. People seem to forget that Solas doesn’t just fight for the freedom of the Elves. He fights for the freedom of spirits too.

In case you haven’t read it… the Nevarrans imprison spirits in the corpses of their dead using mages called the Mortalitasi. I really don’t think that is going to sit well with Solas. In fact, I know it doesn’t. It’s spelled out in Tevinter Nights.

I think it’s probably going to be a quest line for the main character to go and save the necropolis or let it burn to free the spirits. This, of course, will be one of the choices that matter and likely another pinch point on whether Solas goes dark or gets a redemption arc. It will also deeply affect Nevarran politics and the way the country is run. The Mortalitasi basically rule the monarchs of Nevarra sooooo. It’s gonna cause chaos there too.

We’ll obviously see a lot of chaos with the Qunari. Their culture is splintering already. The Antaam have decided to go off the rails and attack anything and everything. Maybe the Ben-Hassrath will be able to rein that in. Maybe not. I don’t have very many predictions on the Qunari to be honest. They’re at war with Tevinter at the end of Tevinter Nights so that war will figure heavily in the game, most likely. But how that’s going to play out I haven’t a clue.

Some mechanics I think we might see.

Fade-touched weaponry that can stop mages.

Elemental interactions. (IE: Magic lightning x water = lots of zap)

Magically treated arrows. ✅️

More magical bombs and poison effects. (I might be just wishfully dreaming there because one of the things I miss from DAO is the poisons and traps mechanics. They felt like an afterthought in DA2 and DAI. I want to be able to make cool traps and set up ambushes again.) But there was that story with Dorian in Tevinter Nights where several of those things were used, so maybe? It would be cool.

I think it’s likely that we’ll see the Despair Demon from Tevinter Nights. And I’m still so mad that they fired the writer of that story. It’s one of my favourites.

Some things that are very possible? But I’m not sure of and could just be wishful thinking.

I think we might see Abelas again. (Abelas romance? Pretty please? ❌😭) His story does have one of those endings that kills him so it’s possibly just wishful thinking. But they brought Leliana back for DAI, so I don’t see why they couldn’t with Abelas too. And also, I have a voice kink and love his VA Matthew Gravelle.

We might see non-linear storytelling. I kind of hope we do because I love non-linear storytelling. Perhaps one storyline will be Arlathan (through dreams or time travel perhaps?) and the fall of it so we finally get some answers to all of this lore. (Please let us get some answers!)

We may see some problems from a rather irrational faction of people who say they’re working for Solas but are using methods he would never approve of. They may be sort of like the Venatori in the last game. Though I do think it’s likely we might have to fight a few more of the Venatori too. ✅ They’re still out there having really messed up rituals and stuff to destroy things.

I think it’s possible given a few clues in the lore and in Tevinter Nights that we’re either going to see not just a double blight (regular darkspawn and red lyrium darkspawn) but a triple blight with the green/yellow lyrium found in Ghilan'nain’s labs. Remember that Ramesh only destroyed one of them. There are eleven more. I think that’s going to very possibly be a big part of this game.

Settings/Levels/Areas I think likely.

So, we already know that the game will be taking place in the north of THEDAS. That’s a no brainer after the map reveal in the teaser.

But where exactly will they take us?

In Tevinter, I think it’s very possible we’ll see Minrathous ✅ and Vyrantium. We may see the Black Divine’s/Archon’s palace.

We’ll see Arlathan Forest. ✅ That I’m almost certain of. We’ll probably also see ancient Arlathan somehow. (Dreams or barely used time-travel mechanic from DAI?)

We’re going to be spending a lot of time in the deep roads and even farther below the deep roads. And dear developers please let me have some answers to all this lore.

We may spend some time inside a Titan again.

Pre-veil drop, we may spend some time in the fade. I actually hope that with the veil dropping we get to rescue whoever got left behind in DAI. That would make my heart so happy.

We’re likely to see the crossroads at least a little bit.

Antiva! Gods I’m looking forward to seeing Antiva.

Anderfels/Weisshaupt. We have no idea at the end of DAI or Tevinter Nights or Last Flight what the hell is going on up there, so I think we’ll have to find out in the game. Also… more chaos that is most definitely not Solas’s fault.

Rivain?

I think we’ll see the Golden City. And the Black City. Which is likely the same place.

And I don’t think it’s up in the sky. I think it’s deep underground below the deep roads.

Ships! I think we’re going to see some more ships. That’s based on a story in Tevinter nights and some of the splash art. But gods I really want more ships. Especially in a place like Minrathous or Antiva for fuck’s sake!

I think we might see some underwater levels for various reasons. And I hope we do.

These next things are honestly my hopes and dreams that would make me so happy, but I have little to back them up with as far as lore or books/comics and supplementary materials.

Polyamory options. PLEASE give me polyam romance options. BG3 did it. It’s 2024 and only 30% of dating people are monogamous. Get with the times! ❌️

I want CC body sliders so bad. ✅ Give me the ability to make a fat player character please! Not just because a lot of gamers tend to be on the heavier side but honestly? Because a fat adventurer is going to be able to go farther than any skinny twig. Real strong men/women/enbies do not look like gym bunnies and models. They have a good layer of fat over that muscle for stability. Guess what fat is? It’s energy storage. A fat adventurer is going to be able to survive longer than a twig. I could go on… but come on Bioware. Be brave. Let me have a fat adventurer. ✅️

Decent. Fucking. Hair. ✅ Please let the CC have decent hair options. LONG hair options! Let me have my long haired elfy prince dude!

Isabela cameo. She’s one of my favourite DA2 characters and some of the early splash art makes me hopeful we’ll see her again. ✅️

I’m hoping for DAO origin style stories for the Main Player Character. But ideally? We’d have something like BG3 where we could play one of a number of origin stories or make our own blank slate character. ❌ Given the gossip going around the gaming community I’m thinking this is unlikely, but damn do I want it.

Useful. Mounts. Please let us have actually useful mounts. And GRIFFONS. ✅ Give me flying mounts you cowards!

Prosthetic using characters. ✅ Bioware has the worst track record when it comes to ableism, but gods please. They’ve got it set up perfectly with Inky losing their arm. There’s a prosthetic leg user in Tevinter Nights. PLEASE LET ME HAVE PROSTHETIC USING CHARACTERS.

Better Crafting Options. The crafting was okay in DAI. Especially if you mod it in so you can buy the stuff to do so easier (I really hate killing dragons but it’s the best crafting material!). But it also often felt more like an afterthought?

Better. Clothes. Seriously. Give me some razzle dazzle with the clothing. ESPECIALLY since we’re going to Tevinter where how you dress is absolutely important!

I know this is sniffing the genie smoke here, but could we have actually attractive armour options? With BRIGHT colours? Research shows that a lot of historical armour was 1. Gorgeous and well fitting. 2. Brightly painted! Let me have bright colours! (And please not the yellow plaid. Ugh.)

I hope for more gardening options in whatever base we end up using. I loved the gardening options in DAI, but they weren’t big enough for my plant loving heart.

I really want to see Solas in flying Wolfie form. We see him like that in Tevinter Nights. So, I really hope we get to see him like that in game.

Finally… and I know I’m high on my own hopes here… I really hope we get the gifting options back. Completely unattached to approval is fine. I just want to be able to find the perfect gift for my companions like I do in real life with my friends. It brings me so much joy.

Things they’re likely to fuck up.

Sadly, I think there’s some things Bioware is very likely to fuck up. This could just be me being too pessimistic, but they’ve screwed these things up throughout the entire series and to my knowledge they didn’t hire any diversity consultants in the making of DA4 sooooo…

Ableism. Bioware has a terrible record when it comes to ableism. ✅ (the demon design is going to cause visual strain and possibly bad effects for epileptic gamers).

White-washing. The North of THEDAS is like the South of Earth. If they make most of the people there have light skin I will probably boycott the fuck out of Bioware for the rest of my life. ✅️

No fat character ability in CC.

Really fucked up hair options. Seriously Bioware. It’s bad.

And I think they’re going to be in trouble when it comes to the Lords of Fortune. Look. I love the idea of the class and I even love how a lot of them are described in the books. But it’s absolutely glomming onto the stereotype of the Romani, and I don’t think that’s going to go over well at all. It won’t for me with my Romani heritage, and it really shouldn’t for anyone. Cause you know what that stereotypical usage is? It’s Racism. Bioware also doesn’t have the best track record regarding racism either.

As more thoughts come to me I’ll either append stuff to this post or do others (probably the latter.)

And here are my links if you want to toss me a buck or two as a tip. I'm recovering from a pulmonary embolism (do not recommend) and every penny helps because I'm the sole income for my family.

And if you're in Canada like me you can use Interac. Kaija.rayne.author@gmail.com.

As always, thanks for reading my rambles!

[pocket-watcher]

So I saw you like The Smiler and take requests, which is great because I also love The Smiler. Would you be interested in writing a Doctor from the Ministry of Joy kidnapping and marmalizing the POV, please? Smile always!

Hi anon! It would be my pleasure…

You awoke in a darkened room. What the hell?

The last thing you remembered was… hmm… you were on a trip somewhere, but then what? Someone had appeared behind you. Chloroform?

You had felt your body grow tired. Weak in their arms.

You’d sworn their eyes were spiralling. They smiled as they watched yours close as everything around you faded to black.

Thoughts for another time. Let’s escape first, you thought, scanning the room. The dim light wasn’t helping, though.

You tried to stand but felt something holding you in place. Luckily, your arms were free from the contraption. You pushed at whatever was over your chest but it wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly a bright white light turned on. You flinched away from it.

“Ministry of Joy logs: 75128. Subject seems in stable condition. Beginning experiment now.”

The voice echoed through what sounded like speakers. You opened your eyes to investigate and were shocked at the sudden bright yellow and black assaulting your vision.

Spirals, all over the walls, in the shape of a smiling face.

You looked down at the thick yellow bars holding you back. Now that there was light you might be able to see a lever, or clasp, something to unlock it.

Part of the wall opened and someone stepped through.

“Ah. Good. Seems you’re ready to begin.”

They spoke with the same voice you’d heard over the speaker.

“Where am I?!” You demanded. You watched the wall close, your way out of there now blocked.

“All in due time.” They pulled a small recording device out of the pocket and clicked it. “I am about to begin the marmalisation process, version 3. This system includes auditory, visual, olfactory, and physical. Standing by.”

Marmalisation?

The doctor made some sort of signal, were there cameras in here? And the room began to fill with gas.

You struggled, coughing, before trying to hold your breath. You saw the doctor smile.

Another signal, and the bright light flicked off. And on. And off again. Flashing rapidly, repeatedly, shocking your eyes.

The walls and their spiral pattern almost appeared to move each time the lights turned on. You stared, mouth still tightly closed as the smoke danced around the room. As the spirals drew you in.

You were starting to slip. How long could the average person hold their breath? You were sure whatever it was you couldn’t do it for half that time.

Eventually you had to breathe in, twisting your head to breathe up away from the gas as much as possible.

It smelled… sweet. Nostalgic. You felt yourself smile slightly, before your conscious brain caught up with you. Reminisce later, focus on escaping now.

You knew you were screwed when you caught a glimpse of the doctor smiling. That’s when speakers came to life once more.

“The Ministry of Joy thanks you for your participation.”

“Remember to smile!”

“You want to be happy.”

“It feels so nice to laugh.”

“Give in to joy.”

You felt the gas fill your lungs. Your eyes, half lidded, searched for the centre of the spiral. Your mouth stretched into an unconscious smile.

What had you been doing? You couldn’t recall. You were struggling, but why would you be doing that when it felt so natural to just sit and to smile.

Resistance was never an option.

Off to one side you were vaguely aware of the doctor poking and prodding you, shining a light into your eyes, scribbling onto his clipboard.

But you didn’t mind. You just sat there, happy to keep staring, smiling, and obeying.

“Excellent. But I’m sure you could go deeper, yes? Let’s move on to phase 2.” The doctor grinned at you. “Someone prepare The Smiler!”

[icanseethefuture333]

A reading on

Marilyn Monroe

Channeled messages:

"I prefer to be called Norma."

"Being Marilyn was devastating for me."

"I was enriched with the pleasures and joys of the world, but I could only be Marilyn, not Norma."

"I created an identity to escape my sufferings, but only to be faced with more."

"I miss my friends dearly."

"My beloved ___ (she doesn't wish to state who)."

"It's just a dress. She (Kim 💀) did me a favor by ripping that old thing."

"I appreciate others caring for my memory, but they can honor me differently (she's saying don't be weird fr)."

"I have plenty of other dresses that are far more beautiful."

"I actually didn't care for dressing up that much, I preferred to dressed casually and comfortably!"

"At first I was hurt by the movies they made about me, now I just laugh, they are obsessed with me, it's ridiculous."

"Oh, yes... *grins* (I asked is she at peace now that she's passed)."

"I am finally a happy old lady with wrinkles! I'm glad!"

Marilyn's past life lessons

Norma was a master manifestor. She had a powerful subconscious mind and was able to visualize her desires into her reality. Norma wanted change and she got it. Creating a new reality for herself as "Marilyn Monroe", when she previously used to be "Norma Jean". "If I could go back I would have healed first before focusing on pursuing my dream." By manifesting her dream as an actor, this also expanded her consciousness to a higher level. Norma was highly intelligent and spiritual. When she made it to the top, she had regrets regarding her past, her choices, and her loved ones. "I abandoned someone dear to me and I miss them so much, my heart aches for my babies." I think out of everything Norma regrets was her miscarriages or inability to be pregnant full term, she very much so wanted to be a mother but it just never happened. Despite this not being her fault, she feels to a point it was. "I had to mourn the loss of my children and the person I loved the most, I was not well." Her health decreased greatly in her acting career (mentally and physically). "I was being treated worse than a dog. Everyone only liked me to laugh at me, to fantasize about me. At least a dog had a place to go home to, what did I have left? Nothing." Towards the end of her life, she took it upon herself to take many risks and challenges. "I was going to get my freedom whether other people liked it or not. I am in control of my life, no one else." There is some sort of building that's significant or needs to be addressed, but I am unsure of what that place is or what it means 🧐. The events leading up to her death 😳...

I'm just gonna leave this here for interpretation 🙋🏽‍♀️

Marilyn's passing - what is her goal for the afterlife?

Norma does have plans to reincarnate. "I want to be reunited with my children." For her next life, her life lessons will be to learn how to trust others, discover what makes her happy, and to be more disciplined. "I can say I have done things I have shouldn't and I am terribly sorry for. I want to make it up to the people I care about if they will let me." Norma will live a more simpler life and as a way to give her a break from her past life's suffering, the universe could provide her with a happy and healthy family, or she will have to take the steps to get that wish fulfillment, but I do believe it will be possible. She will have to take responsibility for her actions, do something that is a good cause for others, and be empathetic to those surrounding her. I believe in Norma's next life she could work with children, perhaps a teacher? Or participate in a cause that helps with children. If she is unable to have a full term pregnancy, she could resort to adopting kids or being a foster mother. Norma will be more accepting of the challenges that come with this next lifetime and is already aware or prepared for it. "The past is the past and I am ready for my future."

[happyely2]

Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ | The rating will be red this time, so if you are a minor skip this reading or highlight your age in your bio.| sex scenes, cuddles, and much more very explicit.

Summary: 31 prompts for 31 days of October. Life on Moby Dick is always hectic and has become more so since Ace boarded this ship and became part of the family.

✒️Prompts taken from the contest (even if I don't participate) organized by the Italian Fanwriter page. I only translated the prompts into English, I hope you like it.✒️

🌊Writober PumpSea🌊 #day 5 - Violin

"The Innkeeper fills all the glasses you have here we want to drink." There was no lack of joy in Satch’s voice, and deep down you couldn’t blame him, you had success after success, you had gotten your hands on new loot and defeated new enemies and landed - after so long - on one of your islands, so no one would bother you.

A break and a celebration were welcome from the whole crew.

Even Dad was in the mood for celebration. He was proud of all of you and your accomplishments, and indeed he said he would soon be there too - the elders lectured him, reminding him of his health, but your old man had responded with his typical laugh and started drinking sake.

Ace handed you your beer mug and smiled at you and then took his to start toasting with everyone.

"To us men and women of White beard!"

"TO US!"

"Let’s all toast for the loot."

"And to be the most feared pirates!"

And the place was swept away by a roar so loud that it shook from its foundations. Much of the success had been thanks to hard teamwork, it had not been easy to hunt and send away the new pirates entering the New World.

"CHEER FOR US!"

And the music had started to creep into your ears. So many ballads that you started singing, who good and who more out of tune.

"What about the drunk sailor in the early morning?" Satch took you by the wrist and started twirling you as the rest of the crew began to clap their hands and feet to the beat of the song, the drunken sailor and singing it trying to catch Ace to make him dance.

They did, and you flew around until the song was over and you laughed while the others whistled for a kiss. In the end you could satisfy them a little.

And you exchanged a quick kiss, while others exclaimed enthusiastically. Your relationship was no longer a secret and everyone was happy. Then you were taken by Marco who as a good older brother interrupted your affections to continue the party.

Ace watched as you danced with Marco and then with Satch, his gaze was filled with love seeing you so happy and carefree.

"Commander Ace! Come! Let’s play Popeye."

And then the races had started between your comrades, arm wrestling, who could drink more - and everyone complained about the fruits of the devil of Ace and Mark because they were too advantaged in that way, They burned all the alcohol in their bodies, and they could drink without feeling it.

Then there are the poker games, the dice challenge and betting.

Laughter and happiness permeated the air of the restaurant, along with the glasses that were raised to toast and the songs that men began to sing.

"Ah, we haven’t had a party like this in a long time." You said sitting on top of Ace to catch your breath after the umpteenth dance you were involved in. Your head was spinning but you were happy.

"I’m glad you’re having fun, my love." Ace said leaving you a kiss on the cheek and offering you his beer.

"But is this red beer good! Is there honey?" You asked taking another sip and making Ace laugh with taste.

"I know an even better drink." A whisper in your ear and you turned red thinking about what he was referring to.

You bit your lip and pinched it on your bare side, and he grinned in response, waiting for the right time to go out without being seen to end the evening in private.

Landing on land meant that too, being able to spend more time alone.

But you didn’t have time to tell him anything else, the others arrived because Ace was required for an arm wrestling match and because you had to be the referee. Satch had bet on Ace’s victory, and you served him the extra motivation to win - and his thinking turned out to be right, because after you kicked off Ace beat his opponent right away, Also because you had a kiss on the line and Ace was a jealous guy who would not give you to anyone.

You smiled at him as you took his hat and used it as a barrier to keep you from seeing and the whistles and applause went off again.

"Let’s go dance hard!"

"More Beer, please!"

"Fund the reserves of the local Innkeeper!"

And again it was all over again. You found yourself dancing with Izo and your big brother had fun twirling you around the track for a long time.

Your head was spinning and that’s why Ace took you just in time, before falling to the ground and made you stop: "Rest a little Love, I’ll get you some water." He said looking at your red cheeks for beer.

You leaned against the counter while waiting for your boyfriend to come back with the water, and only then did you notice that other people had entered the bar. You didn’t give us much weight, even if they weren’t men who belonged to your crew, the inn was big enough to fit all of us.

"Hey doll, want a drink?" A voice came too close to your ear and you immediately walked away from the man who had approached you, you looked at him badly.

"Sorry I’m busy." You said you were ready to turn around and walk away and join Ace on the other side. But your wrist was grabbed by the man in question and he forced you to turn to him.

"Leave me." You said trying to free yourself from the man’s iron grip by scratching him with your fingernails.

"Hey Bitch! We just want to have some fun..." A fist with small flames of fire came straight into his face that made him fall backwards.

"Ace!" You said hugging him and holding on to him to calm him down.

It wasn’t wise to start a fight in a place as flammable as a tavern.

"Don’t you dare touch my girl!" Said Ace looking sideways at the man and calling to himself his flames, were concentrated in his right palm.

"But you know who I am?" asked the man in question, drawing his sword and pointing it at you two. His men did the same, and began to grin wickedly.

They were too clueless not to fear a possessor of a devil’s fruit.

There was something wrong.

"And you know which crew we belong to?" You asked by putting yourself on the defensive and stealing Ace’s dagger from his sheath to point it at your enemy.

None of the men seemed frightened by your behavior, indeed many began to come out of their arms and shout at the men to come and help them.

The math was wrong.

"Come on men." said your opponent charging against you two. You and Ace split up and you took the opportunity to trip the man who fell over the table of the commanders, while Ace sent a couple to the mat with his fist of fire - had used little flames, Sometimes you forgot that Ace was a great fighter even without his Logia.

"Hey man, drink less!" Izo said as he looked at the kimono that got wet with beer and turned his nose.

"What are you kids doing?" He asked Marco to look in your direction and looking sideways at the armed men up to the neck behind you. And if the Phoenix took that look then your enemies had to start worrying.

"These men harassed us, we were just defending ourselves! " Ace said pointing them with his head and then all the men on the crew turned to you.

"And they called me a bitch." You added, being the youngest in the group had its perks, but being the younger younger sister had its perks.

"What did you call our little sister?" Satch said, waving his sword with his men.

"Whoever you are, I don’t care!" The man said, getting up, "Crew of a stupid old man who thinks he’s powerful but who will soon end his days. Stupid White Beard Emperor." And then you didn’t see us anymore, you hit the man with the hilt of the knife and Ace threw him at his men.

"What did you say about Dad?" You said by pointing the dagger at your opponents, Izo had come out with his guns and Marco had called out his flames.

Ace was ready to attack and you were close to him.

Those men had gone too far. One thing was you, one thing was touching your family.

"Don’t destroy the place, my boys." The voice of White Beard reached you and you smiled, the innkeeper had hidden behind the counter and in the same moment the orchestra took to play a bold music in which the instrument that led everything was the violin.

And the fight has begun, chairs, tables, beer bottles have flown as you fought -a couple here and there, they ended up outside the club along with some of your enemies.

And the music on the violin charged everyone for that fight, Ace beat a couple of them by dropping them from the upstairs window, Izo and some men had started a shooting using the tables in the club to get extra protection, while Marco kept some gunshots from reaching your father.

You were with Satch to duel against some of them, Ace’s dagger was great for close combat and a couple of times you helped yourself with a bottle of beer to throw at your opponents head.

The others fought, laughed, drank and joked among themselves.

There was always joy.

In the end the clash ended at dawn when finally even the last enemy was shot down and kicked out of the club.

"They were privateers, look Ace, they’re protected by the navy!" You said while you were checking their boss’s wallet, that explained much of their arrogance.

"Scum." Ace replied while storing the knife you gave him back. Ace was right, betraying so the noble art of piracy was something unforgivable, or at least for you who had grown up following that path was something unforgivable.

"Come on, gentlemen, we haven’t finished the reserve!" Satch said by putting a couple of chairs back in his place he others were starting to rearrange. You were going to do the same but Ace’s hand has surrounded your life and has taken you far, to one of the rooms that were reserved by closing the door with a triple sent.

"I don’t want anyone to come in," he said as he kissed you at the point where his chin and neck were coming. You laughed while stroking his hair and kissed him on the temple. You both had the smell of the fight still present on both bodies boiling and snapping.

From the tents came in the first lights of dawn the music had resumed playing again, even louder than before.

You grabbed Ace even tighter, he grabbed you by the thighs, tied them to her hips, and he lifted you off the ground, and he kissed you. A passionate kiss in which your tongues danced and searched for each other.

You scratched his shoulders to try to maintain a minimum of lucidity but the moans that Ace whispered in your mouth made you crazy with pleasure.

And then you heard him.

God was so impatient.

Ace took you to the bed and started biting your neck while he undressed you.

He kissed every inch of free skin, and you kissed every inch of free skin until a skein was created on the ground with your clothes.

Kisses, bites, scratches and a lot of affection.

"So..." Ace tried to say while he was preparing you, but you covered his mouth with a kiss.

Or if you were impatient, you wanted it inside you at that moment. The fight had left you with a rush of adrenaline still circulating in your body, your heart was in your throat for the emotion and the taste of fire on the skin of Ace distracted you from the surrounding world.

Ace was sitting on the mattress and you were astride on him, he led your hips up to his cock and with a single push he entered you.

"Ace..." You gasped, taking your head back and being held by your boyfriend’s hands.

"Love..." He whispered biting your neck and starting to push inside you with a tight rhythm and without leaving you time to get used to it. His right hand came down on your ass harpooning it while the left one was touching your breast and holding it tight.

You started moving your pelvis up and down, putting your feet on the mattress and meeting Ace’s push.

One or two volts you saw the stars when Ace hit you at a certain point and you screamed with pleasure, you were covered in music, too loud, and you were far enough away from the room where the party was taking place.

You shouldn’t have held back, not like when you were on board.

The rhythm got even more intense when Ace bit your breast hard, leaving the imprint of her teeth on your nipple and starting to push harder, until you could only pronounce his name.

And then the moment came when you kissed each other and squeezed each other and fell on the messy sheets.

You were out of breath, hearts pounding so hard you hammered your ears and you were happy. The only one illuminated your room and rested on your sweaty bodies. It was not yet high in the sky, you still had time for you.

The sun was now high when someone knocked on your door so loud you woke up. The door was then opened quickly and Izo came in short of breath.

"But what... animals had destroyed the room." Satch said looking at the mess that there was.

"Leave Satch alone, get dressed, we have visits from the Navy." Izo said by checking out the window.

"What?! But how dare they ever come here." Ace went to the windows and then suddenly retreated when a cannonball was thrown at you.

You screamed with your bed sheet.

"We’ll go down and lend a hand downstairs to build a fort, get dressed and come help us."

"Ace, but who’s attacking us... clothes, honey!" You said throwing your underwear and looking for yours and then finding them over your desk.

"I have a bad feeling I did." Ace answered as he fastened his seat belt.

You prepared yourself at the speed of light and you got off while avoiding the other cannonballs that were thrown by your opponents. At the third Ace is stuck looking at your enemies and is bleached.

"Where is that wretch of my nephew!"

"Why does that old man not resign himself!" Ace said taking you by the arm and reaching out to others.

You looked at him, then you looked at your enemy and you realized.

The others also realized who could be the fool who threw cannonballs at you.

"He is your grandfather!" You said while Ace was holding you to himself to prevent pieces of wood from falling on you, you looked at him and then you said, "He’s not wearing a uniform, he’s got to be on leave or something."

Meanwhile, the evil words between Ace’s grandfather and White Beard had begun to fly. It was more of a friendly skirmish between the two old enemies.

It was Garp the hero who was facing you, and he was not an enemy to be underestimated and he was not alone, other cadets were with him, although on leave they could always arrest you.

"In short, I want to arrest that wretch Newgate!" He had told Garp by throwing a cannonball so hard that he had made half the protection fly away. By now you were discovered and had been seen.

"OLD MAN, FINISH IT!" He said Ace looked at him badly and Garp started calling him even more, throwing more cannonballs that you avoided thanks to Ace’s flames.

"YOU’RE A FOOL OR YOU WANT TO HIT SOMEONE WHO HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT." Garp had been faster and had come close to you two. Ace took you in his arms and began to avoid the blows of his grandfather throwing occasionally some kick to the old man and trying to stop him with his Haki, but without success.

Until you fell backwards avoiding a blow that would knock you out and make everyone breathe again.

Ace had literally thrown you in the air and you had been affirmed by Marco and brought back to earth while he was fighting his grandfather.

At some point you just couldn’t take it anymore.

"Hey, Grandpa Garp, you can’t arrest Ace!" You said to get between them and stop the fight. The man stopped and looked at you and said, "Who are you?"

"I’m his girlfriend. Listen to me, old man, Ace won’t become a Marine, he’s chosen his own path, and you can’t take him far from me." You said pointing fingers at him.

A grave silence had just fallen on both sides, the Marines were petrified of your audacity, while White Beard’s men were bleached for fear that something might happen to you.

Only dad laughed, followed closely by Garp.

Now the situation had taken a very different turn, which nobody expected.

It was the best time to escape, Ace took you by the hand and nodded to the others who immediately caught him and you all started to run to the ship.

The last to go up was the father who had engaged in a very fast fight with Garp, in memory of the old days and then returned to the ship after knocking out some cadets with his Haki.

"I understand how your grandfather earned his titles." You said watching the old man follow you with his ship and throw more cannonballs.

"ACE DON’T MISS A GIRL LIKE THAT." Garp’s voice caught up with you and you blew up.

Ace sighed loudly ready to ignore the old, until Garp’s voice again drew attention: "ALSO IF YOU DON’T MARRY HER YOU WILL SUFFER MY WRATH."

Those words stunned you, as well as all the crew and were stunned. And then Ace couldn’t see us out of anger.

" "IT’S OBVIOUS THAT I’M MARRYING HER OLD MAN!" !" He said shouting with all the air he had in his lungs and making his grandfather laugh.

"What?" You said looking at him in awe, and your heart pounding.

"Don’t you?" Ace’s eyes are filled with worry and fear.

"Of course I want Ace!" You said by pulling his cheeks to get him back: "What do you think is certain that I will marry you!" You added staring him right in the eye.

"Wait till you’re too young for marriage." Satch was yelling at both you, Izo had fallen down the stairs for what he had heard, and Marco had also been petrified, as had the rest of the commanders.

Only Garp and White Beard laughed while you two realized what you said.