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izzyfandoms · 4 years

Note

Everyone/deceit where the others are trying to get Janus to blush by flirting As a challenge? Ficlet?

(This ended up a full oneshot length lol, so this is no longer a ficlet, hope you enjoy!)

Flustered Snake

SHIPS: Dukeceit, Loceit, Moceit, Roceit, Anxceit, Thomceit (Everyone x Janus)

WARNINGS: Remus makes some sexual comments/implications

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez

Masterpost

The moment that Janus stepped into the living area of the mindscape, a pair of hands behind him landed on his hips. He froze in place, immediately feeling the heat of a blush crawl up his neck, across his face and to the tips of his ears. He was sure that his skin was now an obvious, bright red.

The voice that belonged to the pair of hands cackled at that, and a chin came to rest on Janus's head, revealing it to be Remus behind him.

(Unfortunately, the twins were much taller than Janus, and they both loved to take advantage of it: especially when it flustered the deceitful side, as it often did. He both despised and adored that fact, not that he'd ever admit to the latter out loud.)

That made Janus relax slightly - he recognised the voice, so it wasn't somehow a stranger with their hands on his hips - though his creeping blush only worsened.

"You seem flustered, snake," he said, and Janus could practically hear the grin in his voice. "What's up?"

"Shut up," Janus hissed, crossing his arms.

He didn't move out of Remus's grip, though, and instead leant back against the other side's chest. Remus then gently squeezed his hips, and Janus almost regretted staying in place.

"Comfy?"

"We are standing in the living room."

Remus chuckled - the sound low and just beside Janus's ear, rumbling through his whole body.

"We could always move to somewhere comfier," Remus grinned. "Like my bed."

Janus huffed and rolled his eyes. "In your dreams."

"All my dreams. Day and night. Wanna recreate them?"

"Never."

"You know, I'm talking 'bout fu-"

"I know what you're talking about," Janus hissed, feeling his face somehow redden even further. "And no."

Janus could practically hear Remus's pout.

"Aw, but-"

"No! Shut up!"

"Make me?" Remus offered.

Janus groaned, and buried his face in his hands.

***

It had taken quite a few minutes, but Janus had finally managed to distract Remus with food - disgusting and rotten, inedible food - and gotten away.

(If he'd really wanted Remus to stop flirting with him, and had just made the simple request, Remus would have done so with little hesitation. But Janus's obvious blush and moments of almost returned flirtations had only spurred the other side on.)

(Janus could flirt. In the past he had smoothly and calmly flirted with the other sides on numerous occasions, but the moment they flirted back, he was done for. They had only now begun to take advantage of this, and Janus couldn't for the life of him figure out why.)

He was halfway across the mindscape's long hallway - halfway to his bedroom, where he could wallow in his flustered state in peace - when he was stopped in his tracks by Logan's voice behind him.

"Janus, are you busy?"

Janus suppressed a sigh.

"Obviously," he clearly lied, starting to turn around. "What do you nee-"

The last word was cut off by a strangled noise (accompanied with widening eyes and a sharp intake of breath) as his eyes landed on the very shirtless Logan standing in front of him. He was... more in shape that Janus had expected, but perhaps that shouldn't have been a surprise given his obsession with being as healthy as possible.

Janus tried very hard not to check him out, but was unable to keep his eyes from drifting down, and then back up, and then back down again. He sucked in a breath as he felt his ears warm.

Logan straightened up, his expression turning quite pleased. Before Janus could question him further, he pulled a notebook and pen out of thin air - summoning them effortlessly - and began to scribble on one of the pages, about halfway through.

Janus watched him, thoroughly confused and still - somewhat reluctantly - checking Logan out. Then, when Logan closed the notebook and it disappeared again, the logical side smiled at him: genuine and warm, such an uncommon sight.

It made Janus's face warm and his heart tremble, which was far more telling than the reaction to shirtless Logan.

"Thank you, Janus," Logan said. "That was all I needed."

Then, he sank out, and Janus was left alone, confused, and still - unfortunately - quite flustered.

***

After that, he spent a significant amount of time in his room, wallowing in his hopeless, hopeless pining.

(Remus was only joking. The interaction with Logan was only part of some experiment. Surely those were the real explanations for the two frankly baffling experiences from today, right?)

When he finally decided to leave the room, it was only because he was hungry. Remus's onslaught of sexual flirting had distracted him from breakfast, so he was rather eager to get something to eat.

Luckily, when he arrived in the kitchen, Remus wasn't there.

But Patton was, and the delighted smile on his face when Janus entered the room was just as disastrous to his heartrate as Remus had been.

"Jan!" He beamed, dropping the spoon and bowl he'd been washing up and walking over, taking both of Janus's hands in his own. "I'm so glad you're here!"

It was then that Janus realised he'd forgotten his gloves.

The warmth of Patton's hands against his skin and scales was enough to make him feel equally warm and fuzzy inside. He was suddenly hit with the desire to make that warmth spread to every part of his body, and in that moment, he really, really wanted to kiss Patton.

"What- what do you need, Patton?" He asked slowly.

Patton squeezed his hands. "I just made cookies! And I need someone to test them for me. Would you mind?"

"Oh, uh... alright."

Patton beamed.

Then, he dropped Janus's hands, and the deceitful side would never admit to the disappointment that rose in his chest at the loss of warmth. He watched as Patton plucked a cookie from the plate - carefully selecting what he deemed the best one, before turning back around and bringing it back to Janus.

Janus reached out, ready to take the cookie from his hand, but Patton shook his head, holding up the cookie to Janus's lips.

Janus blinked, dropping his hand and then slowly opening his mouth obediently, taking a small bite of the cookie. It was good, as always - warm and chewy and his absolute favourite flavour.

Patton giggled. "You like them?" At Janus's silent nod, he continued. "Oh, wonderful! I'm so glad!"

Janus swallowed, and opened his mouth to respond, but the words died in his throat when Patton leant forward and brushed his thumb over Janus's lip. His brain short-circuited for a few seconds as his face went hot, but then he realised that Patton had probably just been brushing a crumb from his mouth, and that it wasn't something he should've been worried about.

Patton's smile turned slightly mischievous, and he giggled again.

"Everything alright, Janus?"

***

Janus had returned to his room shortly after that little encounter. He'd mumbled excuses that Patton had seemed to believe - though the disappointment on his face when Janus left had been unmistakable.

He fell back onto his bed, dropping his head onto his pillow and burying his face into his hands.

What was going on today? Remus and Logan and Patton were all acting strange, and Janus couldn't get them out of his head.

Or maybe Janus was the strange one.

He was the one with the huge, perception-altering crushes on all of his friends - Thomas included.

Janus huffed, dropping his arms to his sides and staring up at the ceiling. There were little plastic stars - made by Roman many years ago - stuck all over it, that glowed in the dark when it was night.

Janus hadn't been afraid of the dark since they were all small, but he still kept the stars there out of habit.

(And out of love for Roman, though that part he would never admit aloud.)

There was a loud knock on the door, and Janus jumped, sitting up suddenly and staring at it, wide-eyed. He froze for a moment, before he grabbed his gloves off his bedside table and quickly pulled them back on. He put his hat on, too.

He got up, and walked over to the door.

When he opened it, he immediately came face-to-face with Roman, whose whole face lit up when his eyes landed on Janus.

(And, oh, that really did something to Janus, didn't it? He felt all warm and fuzzy inside - the way Roman was looking at him making him feel like he was floating.)

He felt his face warm, and the greeting he'd meant to say died in his throat as the blush formed.

Roman laughed suddenly: loud and cheerful and delighted, and it made Janus jump. His heart skipped a beat in his chest and he felt simultaneously confused and happy, as Roman's laugh was contageous.

"Well, that was easy!" Roman beamed.

"I- uh- what?"

But before Janus could question Roman properly, Roman reached forward and grabbed Janus's face in both hands. He then pressed a kiss to the centre of Janus's forward.

Janus let out a strangled noise as Roman let go of him and took a step back.

"Thank you, Jan," he said earnestly.

Then, he sunk out, leaving Janus incredibly confused, and even more flustered, ready to melt into a puddle on the floor.

***

It took a few hours for Janus to gain the courage to leave his room again after that.

But, when he did, he found the living room of the mindscape suddenly quite cold. He stood in the centre of the room, rubbing his arms and shivering, as the yellow button-up shirt he had on was far too thin, and he regretted choosing that over his usual outfit that morning.

"Okay," he huffed. "Whose idea was this?"

"I know, right?" Suddenly came a voice from behind him. "It's freezing."

Janus glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Virgil, who was stood a few feet behind him.

"You cold?" Virgil continued.

"No," Janus lied flatly.

Virgil snorted. "Right."

Then, he did something that Janus couldn't have predicted. He took off his hoodie.

This was peculiar for two reasons - one, that the mindscape was cold, and two, that Virgil almost never took off his hoodie, and never without a good reason.

Janus blinked at him, so surprised that he stopped rubbing his goosebump-covered arms. Then, his eyes widened further as Virgil held the hoodie out to him.

"What are you doing?"

Virgil rolled his eyes, though fondly and with a half-smirk.

"Giving you my jacket," he answered.

"But- what? Why?"

"I heard snakes are cold-blooded."

Janus huffed, attempting to glare at Virgil but failing miserably. Virgil seemed amused at his attempts, which made it even harder to glare at him, because Janus wanted to kiss that smirk right off his face.

"I don't need your jacket," Janus lied.

(He would very much appreciate Virgil's jacket, for many reasons, but he obviously could never admit that aloud.)

Virgil snorted. But, instead of responding to that, he walked up to Janus and draped his hoodie over the other sides' shoulders. Janus froze, especially as Virgil's touch lingered longer than it could have, and Janus could suddenly feel himself warm.

His cheeks went hot, likely turning red.

Virgil caught Janus's eye, and the slight smirk returned for just a moment.

"Hope you warm up," he said, before turning and walking out of the room, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, leaving Janus warm, alone and very confused.

***

Janus's confusion had only grown when Thomas suddenly summoned him for no good reason.

Usually, he summoned his sides for videos, and the rest of the time they showed up on their own. He liked to spend time with them, sure, but usually either with all of them, or when the sides showed up first.

Janus appeared in the sitting room.

"Thomas," he said. "What do you need?"

Thomas was sat on the couch, leaning back against the cushions, and his face lit up when he saw Janus, which made Janus feel all kinds of things, and made him almost wish he was the side in charge of Thomas's feelings, so he could know exactly what he was feeling.

(The sides may have all been able to see through Thomas's eyes and hear through ears, but none of them had access to everything that went on inside his head. They each had their own different parts. Virgil knew his anxieties, Patton knew his feelings, Janus knew his lies and the secrets and desires he hid from even himself. None knew everything, even when they might want to.)

"Oh, Janus!" Thomas smiled. "You're here!" He patted the couch beside him, indicating that Janus should sit. "Come on, hang out with me."

Janus blinked, sitting down immediately but with a confused expression.

"Do you... need something?"

"Do I need to? Can't I just summon you to hang out?"

"I mean, no, but-" Janus cut himself off with a strangled noise when Thomas reached forward and plucked his hat right off his head.

Then, Thomas placed the hat on his own head with a grin.

"How do I look?"

Janus opened and closed his mouth a few times, stumbling over his words. It took him a moment to pull together a coherent thought that wasn't just the word 'cute' repeated twelve times.

"Uh, um... you look... good?"

Thomas laughed. "Oh, Jan, you flatter me," he joked. Then, he looked Janus over slowly - making him feel all kinds of things - before his gaze settled on Janus's hair. He reached across, running his fingers through it and sticking his tongue out in concentration. "Your hat must mess your hair up a lot, you wear it so much."

"It's- uh, it's messy, usually," Janus choked out. "That's why I wear the hat."

Thomas pulled his hand back, placing it in his lap, and Janus only just managed to keep himself from making a disappointed noise.

"Aww, I don't know, I like it," Thomas said, seemingly oblivious to Janus's plight. "It's a lot curlier than mine, kinda like Patton's but much darker: almost black." Thomas smiled. "I think it's cute."

Janus blinked at him, feeling his face turn hot and red for what felt like the millionth time that day. He buried his face in his hands and groaned.

“Why are you guys like this?” He mumbled into his palms.

“Huh?” Thomas half-laughed, sounding partly amused and partly confused.

“You’re just- aah!” Janus almost screamed with frustration. “Making me feel... so much!”

“So much what?”

Janus paused at that. He... recognised that tone. It was a tone of faux-innocence, one he’d heard - and, in the past, actively prompted - from Thomas multiple times.

He knew something.

Janus pulled his hands away from his face, shooting Thomas an accusatory look that made him hold up his hands in defence.

“You know something,” Janus accused, with a still-red face, but significantly more confidence than before. “What is it?”

“Uh...” Thomas trailed off, hesitating, but at Janus’s expression, he finally gave in and smiled sheepishly at him. “I may know of a... competition, of sorts.”

“Competition?”

“Between the other sides. And, uh... me, too, I guess. We wanted to see who could make you blush the most.” For a moment, Thomas paused. “‘Cos you’re cute.”

Janus’s brain broke.

He stared blankly at Thomas for a few seconds, before understanding finally hit him like a train, and the blush that had just faded returned again, full-force. He felt hot and flustered and still a little confused, but mostly just startled.

“Oh,” he squeaked.

Thomas let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head with his hand and glancing away.

“Sorry, if that’s kinda weird,” he apologised quickly. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, we just really li- you know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry.”

Janus buried his face in his hands with another loud groan. He mumbled something that Thomas couldn’t quite make out. Thomas leant forward, trying to listen better.

“Sorry, what was that?” Thomas asked.

Janus repeated himself, slightly louder.

“It worked,” he grumbled.

Thomas laughed, short and slightly startled. “Yeah, we, uh... we figured. You’re kinda obvious when you’re flustered. And cute.”

Janus groaned into his palms again, even louder this time.

“I mean,” Thomas continued. “You know they can all see you right now, too, right?”

There was a beat.

“Oh, god.”

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thecandywrites · 3 years

Text

Blood For Gold Chapter 13

Wooo! It has been a while dearies. Let's see, my baby sister's husband, so my brother in law got diagnosed with Lupis which at this point is a relief that it's not his cancer coming back so there's that. My parents rushed down to AZ to be with my dying grandparents and are trying to let them pass from the comfort of their home without having to go into a nursing home, hospice called us and said 'you should come down and say goodbye while they still know who you are' so we all rushed down to do just that and I just came back from a week down there doing that which was emotionally draining and devastating. My other sister's dog tore a ligament and needs a 5k surgery to fix it. This particular sister has no kids and her dogs are her kids, which is perfectly reasonable and valid. And my Chron's Disease is flaring and trying to kill me for the...I've lost count of how many times it's tried to kill me for the 25 years I've had it, (I'm 35, just to put that into perspective) and I have an emergency colonoscopy on the 6th that I need to prepare for.

So sorry for the delay on updating this story, I've been meaning to update this for A VERY LONG TIME and mentally I knew exactly how I wanted to write it, I just had no time, energy, drive or opportunity to write UNTIL TODAY. So you are getting this hot off the presses and I want to pick up and GO GO GO before my life completely falls apart.

Again so many thanks to @kriskukko for letting me use her still gorgeous, still amazing, still epic REGENCY ERA ORC ART. Just...still in love with it.

Thanks to @punkhorse96 for all your amazing feedback. Now, we get into THE DANGER ZONE. Much plot, so sex, big TORN. Enjoy. *evilly cackles*

Blood For Gold

Chapter 13

Your family completely monopolated your time the moment they came and wouldn’t let you out of their sight and you couldn’t get a moment’s peace or solace, except when it came time for the masquerade ball at the Midnight Peacock, then everyone seemed to disappear and leave you alone to change and you couldn’t hardly wait for tonight, Axal told you that The Red Velvet Rope was hosting this particular masquerade ball so all of the brothel’s workers would be there along with almost all the other moura individuals in all of London would be there tonight.

It was going to be your first time going and you had brought out your new masquerade dress that you had made in your “widowhood” because while you recovered from your mourkatilli addiction, and healed from the other trauma and abuse, you needed a project to keep you occupied.

It was a special one, it was reversible with a twist. It was really four outfits in one. A skirt with two different layers, and each layer was reversible and a top that was sewn and embroidered in such a way that it was four tops in one, each one to also coincide with one of the layers of the skirt. So if you wore it “normally” and “inside out” and “right side in” on each layer, you would have four unique outfits and you had embroidered all four layers in two of the styles of tops, when not being worn on the outside would roll up and give you something of a push up bra, so that it would appear in such a way that it would look like one scene one way and in the reverse, a completely different one but still in the same shapes in an elevated double embroidered piece. It was some of your best work to date. And you had a fabric mask pinned into each skirt so that the masks you wore changed with it, and you wore your hair in such a way that it could change, from up, to half up and half down to fully down and in a variety of ways and Axal had told you that Ramsey had confided in him that the place had “changing” rooms where you could change your outfit as needed, in case you needed to change yourself throughout the night. So you left the Palace of Windsor in one of your more “flashy” and luxurious facets, complete with a cape that was also reversible with your family.

Once at the place you immediately left your family and “changed” into the most simple and understated of the four, a black embroidered top and simple black skirt with no embroidery, it was simple yet elegant and began looking for Demsey Draft, because you needed to warn him about the other mouras that had come as well break off any connection with him so that you couldn’t be implicated later because the last thing you wanted was for Duke Demsey Voyambi to know that you had ever set foot in a whorehouse. You wanted him to feel and know that if the attraction you had to him was returned by him, that you would be loyal to him and he would have your complete fidelity and you would leave Mr. Demsey Draft where you found him, in your hopefully long forgotton past. A woman was allowed to go a little wild in her mourning right?

Meanwhile Demsey had done the same, only he didn’t have any reversible outfits, instead he went straight to the “coat room” and “rented” a change of clothes, he had to find Audra Draft and break things off with her, and solely pursue Sultana Audravienne.

And like clock work, only moments after going around the place, looking for Mr. Draft, when you found your prize, coming out of the changing room, dressed how you thought he’d be, simple, rather plain but dignified.

“Mr. Demsey Draft?” You asked once you found him.

“Miss Audra Draft,” He smiled in relief that he found her, or rather, that she had found him although why she insisted on calling his last name of Draft, maybe she was trying to give him a pseudonym to protect his real identity as you were thinking the exact same thing, although tonight would be the last time you would ever answer to such a name as your moura marks lit up like fireworks again, practically glowing and pulsing through your clothes and on your skin as Demsey flushed with desire because that was going to be one of the many things he was going to miss about Miss Draft.

“Might we have a word?” You asked, even though your heart was screaming for one last release with him before you cut things off with him completely.

“Yes, by all means.” He agreed as you took his hand and led him away to a private booth in the little restaurant side of the place as most had gathered in the dance hall and were already beginning to dance the night away.

“Before anything else, I must tell you that after tonight I must break all contact with you, you see, I’m going to be pursuing a very wonderful woman, and I can not do so with any prior attachments or engagements, she is the kind of woman who deserves whole hearted and whole souled devotion.” He began as your heart was relieved and happy for him but broke at the news as your moura marks stopped pulsing and flashing, instead, simply faded to a rose gold then stopped which broke Demsey’s heart to see as he recalled how the Sultana's marks flashed rose gold when she was upset or sad. It still must have been a universal moura thing, he supposed.

“Well isn’t that a coincidence, I came to find you to tell you something similar. I also found someone, a wonderful man actually, who I wish to pursue whole heartedly and without reserve.” You replied.

“So...The Red Velvet Rope is no longer…” Demsey began.

“Part of my life? No. Never, you?” You asked.

“Same, I will never set foot into it again.” He professed.

“Probably for the best. So, I know you wish to probably keep certain things private, and I don’t expect you to tell me who it is that has captured your attentions and affections, and whoever she is, I can only hope and pray that she is worthy of them.” You offered, feeling much more than a pang in your heart, much more than you were expecting anyway, the whole day you had prepared yourself for this moment, rehearsing what it was that you wanted to say to him. He was, after all, just a manwhore in a whorehouse, you shouldn’t have any real emotional connection with him and it should be easy to walk away, but now that it was happening, your heart, soul and body screamed for the reverse. It felt like it had been too long since you got to hold him in your arms, kiss his sweet mouth and marvel at the way his body seemed to always meld and mold to yours and bring you the sweetest of releases.

“Thank you, and likewise.” Demsey graciously offered.

“Out of curiosity, you don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to, but the woman you are going to be pursuing, is she an orc like you?” You asked curiously.

“No, she’s actually, um,” Demsey began before he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“She’s moura.” Demsey confessed.

“Oh, well in that case...I know...or rather, I have heard.” You rephrased, not wanting to tell on yourself too much as Demsey smiled sadly at you as you cast your gaze away from him guiltily as you felt tears prick your eyes as a strange panic seemed to grip your chest.

“I have heard that there are many mouras here, and new ones have come into England fairly recently. Please beware, there are some mouras who are not “typical” and perfectly lovely and good people and others who are actually true to the typical type cast. Surely you have heard the saying that “a moura’s beauty is always outmatched by their greed for wealth and power.” There are some who prove that saying false, and some who prove it true. Please beware of the latter and make sure that the woman who has caught your eye is the former, for only ruination follows the latter’s footsteps.” You tried to gently warn him, fearful he had seen Benny and fallen in love with her like any other orc male had.

“I will, and if you will do me the same honor. Would you tell me what kind of man has caught your attentions and affections?” Demsey asked, even though part of him didn’t want to know and part of him was wishing it was a proper moura, so she would be with her own kind who would understand and sympathize with her and treat her the way she deserved, which was an invaluable treasure, whether she was "tainted" or not.

“He’s an orc. Although I do not know if he leans more towards the old orcish ways and culture or if he will hold true to the English ones although I guess there are some things that are similar in both cultures. I am at a loss as to how to pursue him and what will reach him and prove that myself and my own intentions are true, and how to prove to him that I’m one of the atypical moura’s unless he has already judged me to be typical then I am at a loss for I know at least one member of his family already has but I’m hoping he does not share their views. Because first impressions are usually the most firmly set and hardest to prove otherwise, no matter the word or deed.” You confessed and Demsey felt his rage begin to flare, the moura before him was clearly not the power hungry type. Anyone with half a wit could discern that about her, much less see it with their own eyes.

“Is he….is he a commoner or is he gentry?” Demsey asked, feeling actual panic whirling in his chest, he knew his brother had gone to The Red Velvet Rope and if Sierge had found her, he could be charming and could talk his way into any woman’s knickers if he really tried but Sierge would no sooner bed her before he shamed her for doing so. Sierge was his brother but Sierge was also a rake and downright dangerous to any woman’s honor.

“He is in the gentry. That’s why it gives me pause, so far he has been a dream, a perfect gentleman and he comes from a good family and noble business. There is nothing about him that gives me hesitation except that I do not know if he shares the attraction. He may just be very polite and friendly and I’m reading too far into his gestures or he may already share his opposing family’s views of what a moura can typically be. But...he’s worth pursuing if he does share the attraction, I was hoping I would find him tonight and I could feel him out for it, if not, there are others that are pursuing me. And...I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, or if...if I should just forget all of it and be better off alone.” You confessed as your own panic settled in that you would never see the man across from you in this tiny little booth, barely big enough for two, ever again. It was like you were magnetically drawn to him and you were helpless to fight against it in his company.

“But in any case, I will miss you, and I will remember our brief moments together with fondness.” You offered as you fought the tears in your eyes as your gold moura marks faded to a dull brass color, Demsey had never seen anything like it before, it gave him the most worry, since he had almost become accustomed to reading the Sultana’s marks like her facial expressions.

“You are too good.” Was all Demsey could say, his own heart breaking that he was going to lose, forever, the one other woman he felt any real connection to.

“So are you. Whoever she is, if she ever gets to bed you, she’s in for a treat.” You tried to tease with a grin but the bittersweetness in your eyes cut him to the core.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, may life treat you well and may the woman who captured your attention be worthy and return it and show you the same loyalty and respect you will surely show her.” You offered as you did your best to get out of the small booth to get away before you cried your eyes out right there at the table as you damned yourself for being unduly attached to a manwhore in a whorehouse rather than Duke Demsey Voyambi who you were sure was probably a much better man but still, your heart already ached at Demsey Draft’s absence.

He seemed to take your cue and got out of the booth as well as you curtsied in place as he bowed respectfully before you turned on your heel and tried to get away.

But you had barely taken two steps before Demsey quickly took three steps to catch your arm in his hand which caused you to stop and turn and turn right into his other hand that framed your face and brought it to his own as he gave the hottest, most soul scorching kiss of your life and you’d be lying through your teeth if you tried to say that you protested. Your body betrayed you as you kissed him back and glued yourself to him as your marks revived and started to pulse and flash again.

“One last time?” Desmey pleaded when you broke for air.

“One last time.” You readily agreed before you grabbed his hand again, saw along a far wall a room with the words “pairs dressing room” above the doorway and quickly ran with Demsey following you, his hand tightly grasping yours, weaving through the crowd and pushed a five pound note into the abbess’s hand and took the last available “pair’s changing booth” which was really just sex booth with a bench in it as you pushed Demsey to sit down as you readily straddled his lap as he undid his pants as you hiked up your skirts and stripped out of your Dorierran panties and seated yourself onto him and began to ride him in earnest as he partially undressed you, undoing your top and tossing it aside, still marveling at your moura moura marks as they pulsed and glittered even in the low light as your eyes practically glowed gold as well in the lower light of the darkened closet since there was only a lone candle burning in the corner as his hands went under your skirts and grabbed good handfuls of your arse and helped move your pelvis over himself so that your ground down deliciously before reattaching his mouth to yours and kissed you for all he was worth, pouring every ounce of his heart and soul into it before leaving hot, lisentious kisses on your neck and chest, capturing those oh so precious pulse points as you undid his collar so you could feast on his own neck and chest and once it was revealed you bit down his neck as he growled dangerously and hissed in pleasure and moaned when you soothed your mark with your tongue before inflicting a second, a third, and fourth and losing count after that as your mouth then moved to his collar bone and his very sensitive nipples, which he did appreciate your attention to as he did the same to you, because for this brief moment, you were his, for the last time, he was going to leave evidence that you were his, for this all too brief, but glorious moment, that nothing else mattered but your pleasure and once you shuddered and keened as your legs shook from the first orgasm as your moura marks lit up the room and glowed like soft sunshine as the orgasm seemed to flood your senses, he was picking you up and pinning you against the wall and driving up into you almost mercilessly but you loved every bit of it as you clung to him.

“Please Demsey, my dearest, darling Demsey, please, cum in me, fill me.” You pleaded desperately into his ear as you were near tears from how amazing and spectacular this was.

“Not yet.” Demsey cooed in your ear.

“Demsey please.” You begged as you felt another orgasm approaching and he still would not stop and that one nearly made you black out from pure ecstacy as the room lit up even brighter because that orgasm was bigger and more intense than the last and then he set your practically limp body down on the bench and went to his knees and replaced his cock with his mouth onto your already overly sensitive sex and ate you out like it was his first real meal after months of fasting as he settled your legs over his shoulders as the light that continued to pulse and glitter on your moura marks on your thighs and legs and lower belly provided all the light he needed as you laid back onto the bench as your pelvis rested in his hands as he moved you how he wanted you and you were powerless to stop him as a third orgasm bloomed in your body and lit up the room like a fire had started inside it as you did your best to hold onto your very soul so that it would not leave your body completely as you cried out in almost painfully blissful ecstasy as your hands gripped the edge of the bench pitifully, your knuckles going white, not caring in the least who could hear you and that’s when he finally relented and had you sit in his lap on the floor, with your bare chests touching and caressing the other and there was so much love and tenderness in his desperation to fuck you senseless as he held you fast to him and drove up into you and upon the fourth orgasm, the biggest and brightest of them all, did he finally relent and fill you so full it overflowed and you spent the longest moment just clinging to each other, neither of you wanting to let go of the other as you both basked in the ever so intense afterglow as the light from your moura marks slowly faded to nothing as once was desperation, was replaced with tenderness, softness and sweetness was you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the waves and subtle curls in his thick, luscious locks as your fingertips scratched ever so deliciously on his scalp as he scratched your back in turn, savoring every precious second of having you in his arms, trying to commit every detail to memory, not wanting anything to go missing when he would want to recall this later. Whether it would torture him or bring him fondness or joy, only time would tell.

Soon though, there was a gentle knock on the door.

“You two alive in there?” Came the abbess’ call.

“Yes, we’re almost done. Just a moment please.” You answered back as you reached around him and adjusted your mask back into place since it had become slightly askew so that he would not discover your true identity as he seemed to do the same before you reluctantly untangled from each other and helped get each other get redressed and recomposed.

“Goodbye Mr. Draft, it was always a pleasure.” You offered as you took his hands and kissed his knuckles tenderly before you left the small room and quickly weaved your way through the crowd to the other end of the Midnight Peacock to get changed into another side of your outfit, this time, one of the lighter, more luxurious ones as you took a vial of perfume that was in your necklace and put some around your neck and chest to cover up any “evidence” of Mr. Draft’s presence on your body even though you had taken a moment to savor the scent of it one last time as Demsey seemed to do the same, changing out of his “rented” second outfit and back into his original one that he came in wearing and didn’t care to notice how the outfit seemed to be given to another orc who had come in, this one, more bluish in color who quickly changed into it to enjoy the party himself once Demsey had traded it in for his old clothes at the counter.

“Is there a bar here?” He asked the person overseeing the single dressing rooms once he came out redressed in his original outfit.

“Yes, it’s right through there, you can’t miss it.” She answered as he followed her direction to find a young lady, dressed is discrete luxury already sitting at the bar, drinking absinthe.

“Sultana Audravienne?” Demsey took a chance and asked which perked you up as you turned to see him.

“Duke Voyambi, I thought you would be dancing.” You offered, even though, your legs were still jelly from Mr. Draft’s endeavors.

“Usually, yes, but um, tonight, I’m not...I’m not really inclined to dance.” Demsey confessed because he was worn out but also he just let the greatest lover of his life so far slip through his fingers and he was in no mood to dance.

“I’ll be honest, neither am I, would you like to join me?” You offered.

“Yes, I’d love to.” He readily agreed.

“Well it seems since we both seemed to guess who the other is, there is little point of these then is there?” You asked as you pointed to the second mask you had pinned into the top you were currently sporting.

“No there isn’t.” Demsey readily agreed as both of you took off the masks and set them neatly on the bar as he got up onto the barstool next to you as you had already taken your hair down, letting your thick braid lay down your back.

“Absinthe?” He guessed, looking at the glass you were drinking from and recognizing the green liquid that filled it.

“Yes,” You readily confirmed.

“May I have one?” He asked the bartender who nodded and poured him a small glass of it, letting it pour over a cube of sugar and offered it up to him.

“Is this your first time drinking it?” You asked him.

“Is that obvious?” He asked as he took a few tentative sips.

“Absithe is the only “dangerous” drink they have here.” You answered.

“What would you prefer to be drinking right now then?” Demsey asked.

“Cyanide.” You answered without hesitation before he practically choked on his drink.

“Cyanide?” He repeated as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Mouras are immune to poison, remember? Cyanide is to me what wine or whiskey is to you.” You explained.

“But absinthe is still just a little poisonous right?” He asked.

“So is tobacco, but yet that doesn’t stop anyone from smoking it.” You shrugged as you looked out over the already cloudy room, filled with smoke from other patrons practically smoking up like chimney’s.

“Touche.” He had to chuckle.

“Do you like tobacco?” He asked.

“No, although hashish is popular back in the stables, if the sultanate states were still open, alcohol is illegal but hashish which is like tobacco but not quite since it comes from a different plant- is perfectly fine. But both can be hard on your lungs and mouras can be very sensitive to both, but here in England, it just depends on what’s fashionable at the time.” You reasoned as Demsey seemed to nod along with that sentiment as he took a longer sip of his drink.

“True.” Demsey agreed.

“So how are you liking it now?” You asked as you nodded to the drink.

“It’s growing on me.” He admitted.

“Yeah it does. Anything sweet usually does.” You grinned before you heard a cheering boom behind which inclined you to turn around to see what was going on to see Ramsey and Axal flamenco dancing with each other, their feet stomping very fast and rhythmically on the wood floors as Axal was wearing his matador masquerade outfit, it’s bright pink color and bejeweled state catching everyone’s eye but not to be outdone by Ramsey’s equally impressive baby blue one as well as Yalin and especially was cheering her son on while your mother and other members of your family were around cheering Axal on as well as you just shook your head, two peacocks flaunting their feathers at each other as Demsey looked on and just shook his head as well, having already exerted his own herculean amount of energy and spent it on Ms. Draft, wherever she would find herself now, although a quick scan of the crowd, he couldn't see anyone that looked even remotely like her. But he was with who he really should be spending his time with and now that he was with her, it was a different kind of comfort and happiness, but it was sadly tainted by guilt and strangely disappointment that didn’t make a bit of sense. Wasn’t this exactly what he was hoping for? To be with Audra, the real, authentic Audra, somewhat privately and all to himself? Then why, when he looked at her, he kept seeing glimpses of Miss Draft and why was he wishing that he was actually sharing this drink with her? What had happened in that room to change his mind? This morning he had been so sure that Sultana Audravienne was the one for him but something in Miss Draft had him hesitating and it didn’t make any sense at all.

But the way you were looking at Axal and Ramsey, caught his attention, you were...disappointed, or disinterested and clearly unimpressed as you just shook your head and turned back around and finished off your absinthe and got a menu as Demsey asked for one as well before you went ahead and shared yours with him.

“So what sounds good?” You asked him as you looked it over, already picking a few things out in your mind.

“Uh the lamb kebabs sound most appetizing.” Demsey answered before you grinned. It was a Medetteranian dish and right up your alley.

“The lamb kebabs it is then, the portions should be good size too, let’s share.” You suggested.

“Absolutely, I’ll defer to you, order whatever sounds best to you.” Demsey offered which got you to beam happily before the bartender came back and got your order as you went ahead and ordered everything that sounded good to share with Demsey and before you knew it you had taken up a good portion of the bar and had begun sharing a surprisingly good and wonderful meal together.

But what surprised you was how Demsey was correctly eating each dish.

“What?” Demsey asked as you paused in eating to watch him eat.

“It’s just, you’re the first Englishman who has known the right way to eat this. Most have no idea you’re supposed to use the bread instead of a knife and fork.” You explained as you copied his movements, using the bread to dip into the different sauces, scoop up the rice and the bits of grilled meats before bringing it to your mouth.

“Uh, well…” Demsey stuttered as he flushed with some embarrassment, because it had been Miss Audra Draft who introduced him to these dishes and had shown him the proper way to eat them. But he couldn’t tell you that, for fear you would think less of him for visiting a whorehouse, because the thought of you thinking less of him was worth than anything else he could imagine at the moment.

“Uh, there’s some orc dishes that are similar in how they’re eaten, it just...seemed natural and the right way to eat it?” He supplied, hoping you couldn’t see right through him.

“Some things just make sense I suppose.” You shrugged, having thought you’d have to explain everything but instead both of you had just dived right in.

“They do.” Demsey nodded as he quickly tried to stuff his mouth so he wouldn’t say anything else.

“So um, you obviously know much more about this cuisine, what can you tell me about it?” He asked after he swallowed.

“Well since you asked…” You grinned happily before you went through it again as Demsey was struck by how similar Miss Draft and you were, so similar in voice and mannerisms and gestures. It was almost like he was sitting next to her again as his heart almost strangely ached for her. But that was not fair to you. You were not her and she was not you. But the dishes themselves must be common knowledge among all mouras, he supposed.

But you couldn’t help but notice that while Demsey was still watching you and listening the best he could, the look in his eye and in his expression, it was like he was missing someone and you began to fear that there was perhaps another in his life, someone he had known before you ever met him. Someone his sisters did not know and maybe before Kate Whitesale. But one who clearly knew the Sultanate Quarter or Hanging Garden Quarter rather, of the stables because that’s where these dishes came from. What if the only reason he liked you, was that you were the legitimate copy of what he really desired? There were so many more mouras here in England than you realized and more than a few were a striking resemblence to you and most of whom, were actually commoners. What if you were the gentrified version of what he really wanted?

That would make sense. What if he came here, looking for her and couldn’t find her and instead settled for your company?

“Are you alright?” You asked.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine, just...I think the smoke is getting to me in this room too.” He tried to excuse, damning himself for not being completely present with you.

“Can I get a bottle of spiced rum please?” You ordered from the barkeep as you started dumping and piling everything on the largest platter as Demsey took your cue and followed your actions until everything was on the large platter before he paid the tab at the bar before he put the lid over the large platter as you grabbed the bottle of rum and followed you through the place where you found a staircase and climbed up it as Demsey followed you before you found what you were looking for, a balcony on the roof of part of the first floor. And on the balcony is where you found Calla and Tzane already sitting at one of the tables and eating something similar.

“Audra!” Calla called you over as you happily went over and pulled out two chairs before Demsey sat the platter down onto the table.

“I thought you two would be dancing.” Tzane noted as he sat next to Calla, the two of them practically sitting thigh to thigh and as close as could be without actually sitting in the other's lap.

“Not in the mood to dance tonight.” You confessed as you sat down as you noticed that Calla and Tzane had also foregone their masks that were on the table as well as you sat yours down as well as Demsey's since his hands had been full carrying the platter.

“But always in the mood to eat.” Demsey grinned happily as he took the lid off the large platter.

“Oooh, that smells really good.” Tzane praised.

“The Hanging Garden Quarter has some of the best food in all of Dorierra,” Calla grinned.

“Well I think this is too much for the two of us, if you want some, have some,” you readily invited as Tzane and Calla didn’t need to be told twice before they got their plates and loaded them up before they dug in themselves before Calla walked Tzane on how to “properly” eat it as the four of you fell into very easy and wonderful conversation before Calla noticed movement in the balcony of the second floor and her eyes went wide as she grabbed Tzane’s hand under the table and squeezed it hard which got him to look over to her before he followed her line of sight to see Ramsey and Axal making out on the edge of the balcony on the second story as he started to choke on his food.

“You ok?” You asked as Tzane punched Demsey in the leg under the table and subtly pointed in the direction he wanted Demsey to look before Demsey gave the direction a curious look just in time to see Ramsey finish kissing Axal before he went down to his knees and undid Axal’s pants and started to suck him off right there on the balcony and choked on his own food as well before you reached over and pat his back.

“You ok there Demsey?” You asked, concern clearly written on your face and in your voice before you head Axal groan a moan which caused you to turn your head just as Axal seemed to notice who was around and moved so that Ramsey was between himself and the balcony that looked down over the first balcony so that Ramsey was hidden from the view from below.

“Hey Axal,” You waived happily, pretending to be oblivious as Demsey, Tzane and Calla looked in horror at each other.

“Hey Audra.” Axal waived.

“Getting your cock sucked by the son of Pharoh?” You asked in Arabic since you knew Axal well enough to know that pleasured look on his face and didn’t want the rest of the table to know that you knew what was really going on.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“Well enjoy the night air, it’s a nice night tonight, keep everyone out of my hair, I’m with who I want to spend the evening with.” You called back in Marinai as Calla tried to recapture her composure.

“Will do!” Axal called back with two thumbs up.

“Uh...what...what did you say to him?” Demsey asked you as he tried to keep composed himself as Tzane was trying to gulp down the rest of the wine he had gotten for himself and Calla, down from the bottle.

“I asked if he was enjoying the night air, and when he said yes, I told him to keep enjoying it since it’s beautiful weather we’re having tonight.” You answered sweetly, continuing to act oblivious.

“Yeah, he’s enjoying it alright.” Tzane coughed into his fist as Demsey glared at his little brother as Calla just flushed as she drank down her glass of wine as well.

“Aren’t we all?” You asked with a scheming grin.

“Well, yeah, maybe not as much as he is though.” Tzane answered as he kept his gaze down at his plate before he tried to fill his mouth with food to keep himself from saying anything else as Demsey glared dangerously at Tzane before Benny and Sierge came out to the balcony as Benny was taking her hair down from its original style as the two still had that giddy, love drunk look with each other as it was clear that a tryst had just transpired between the two.

“Oh hey guys.” Sierge greeted cheerfully, as he came over before you scooted closer to Demsey who also scooted closer to Tzane so that Benny and Sierge would have room at the table.

“Oh good, you guys already ordered food, we worked up quite the appetite on the dancefloor.” Sierge said as he grabbed unused plates from the next table over and gave one to Benny before he helped himself the spread on the table.

“Among other places.” Benny cooed with a playful wink to Sierge who ducked his head and grinned bashfully as you simply smiled knowingly as you gave Benny a meaningful look and she gave a subtle nod that had you nodding along with her.

“Good.” You simply noted as you happily dug into your own food.

It wasn’t until the bluish orc came out, still wearing the rented suit that Demsey had been wearing earlier with Audra’s essences on it- came onto the balcony too with another lady with him before Sierge sniffed the air, turning his head and sniffing the air deeply in his direction.

“What does your bloodhound nose smell now? Does he have better food or what?” Benny teased Sierge.

“Uh, no, uh, I’ll tell you later.” He told her with a meaningful look as she looked intrigued as he sniffed that scent again before he turned back to the table and began sniffing again before his nose seemed to land on you before he quickly turned his head to stare at the platter of food as his eyes went wide for a moment before he seemed to try to be recomposed.

“Yeah, this food smells the best.” He tried to play off casually but he still gave you a weary look as he looked at Demsey who was staring at him in confusion as Sierge pointedly looked at Demsey, then at you then at the bluish orc then back to Demsey pointedly as Demsey just looked at him in complete confusion but sadly, your parents found you and pulled you back inside because they had requested the Hanging Garden Official Dance Anthem and felt you should dance too just as Ocearian found Axal only moments after Axal had cum down Ramsey’s throat and had gotten redressed and adjusted as you let your mother take your hand and lead you away as Calla and Bennie followed as Sierge grabbed Demsey’s arm to keep him from following along too.

“What?” Demsey asked.

“Audra, the Sultana, she has a lover, he’s that blue orc over there.” Sierge accused.

“What?!” Demsey balked.

“My nose doesn’t lie, I can smell her all over him.” Sierge insisted as Demsey looked from his brother to the orc in question.

“Find out for sure.” Demsey said before he left and quickly tried to catch up to you to see you already on the dance floor, surrounded by family as you all danced the danced in synchronized steps.

“Good evening sir, can I talk with you for a moment?” Sierge asked the gentleman.

“Uh, in case you couldn’t tell I’m kind of busy right now?” The guy answered.

“I’ll give you five pounds for five minutes of your time.” Sierge offered.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” The guy immediately told his companion before he got up and followed Sierge a short distance away.

“What?” He demanded.

“First, what’s your name?” Sierge asked.

“Robert Wainsright.” He answered.

“And your orc name?” Sierge prodded.

“What does it matter?” He protested.

“Ok fine, who have you been with tonight?” Sierge asked.

“Her! That’s the only one I’ve been around all night! Why does that matter?” Robert demanded.

“Because the scent on your clothes says otherwise, now tell me again, have you been intimate with anyone tonight?” Sierge demanded.

“What are you the fucking coppers? What business of yours is it who I’ve been with?” Robert protested.

“Because the smell on your clothes implicates you.” Sierge growled dangerously.

“Implicates me in what? A fucking murder?” Robert demanded angrily.

“You know what, fine, if you say you haven’t been with anyone other than the lady at the table, then I have no choice but to take your word for it, who is she by the way?” Sierge asked as he took out his wallet and began going through his bank notes to find the right one.

“She’s one of the workers for The Red Velvet Rope, she works in the kitchens.” Robert answered as he took the bill from Sierge’s hand.

“Thank you, that’s all I needed to know.” Sierge grinned triumphantly before he left and went back inside to see Demsey watching appreciatively as you danced with your family, with a bright happy smile on your face which brought a fond one to his own hands.

“And?” Demsey pressed Sierge.

“The guy’s name was Robert Wainswright and he claims the only one he was with was the lady he was eating with.” Sierge reported.

“Ok, well maybe your nose is wrong for once.” Demsey nodded and went back to watching you dance and enjoying yourself as Sierge fought with himself whether he should tell his brother or not but now was not the time or place and when the dance ended you ended up pulling Demsey to the floor to dance with you as Demsey, despite previously having no stomach for it, was suddenly all too happy to try to dance along to these strange dances with practically hypnotizing music but the best and yet the worst part was, to see your moura marks on your skin flow, pulse and flash like fireworks was both amazing yet, plagued him with guilt that he, once again, was forced to recall Audra Draft’s marks and how they would do the same thing. He needed to get over her. Maybe it would have been better if he had not seen her tonight and not been drawn in by that vixin's siren's call. Because then he would have focused completely on you. You deserved his undivided attention and affection and having you compete with any other would be a crime against the gods.

But he did feel kind of smug that if Ramsey got any closer to you, he had his own ace up his sleeve, to know that Ramsey was actually having intimate relations with your brother no less, you had told Demsey yourself that you were the jealous type and would not share your partner with anyone, much less a family member and when and if you ever found that out, you would immediately rid yourself of Ramsey for good, all he needed to protect himself from now on was his own implications with Miss Draft and he was as good as gold and as long as you never found that out, he was sure to win your affections honestly and wholeheartedly. Miss Draft had just been a bad mistake, made...thrice, but only thrice and no more.

Demsey didn’t care if he looked ridiculous, he was dancing with you, almost holding you on the dance floor and being so close to you, to have you smiling up at him like he was the only man in the world you had eyes for had his heart soaring and his pride beaming and his possessiveness over you almost insatiable. In this moment, yet again, he was overcome by his gut telling him that you, were the only woman in the world for him and that Miss Draft would from now on, only live in his past, never again in his future.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 13 #Wooooo #regency era orc drama #orc romance #orc boyfriend #monster boyfriend #exo #exophilia #whew #the plot thickens

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thewritewolf · 4 years

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Losing Their Marbles

Summary: With Alya and Marinette out of town, it is up to Carapace and Mister Bug to watch over Paris! But the greatest enemy they face isn't an akuma but loneliness. :(

Entry three of four of my Adrien Augreste one shots! This one had Mister Bug as the week prompt, and Bugaboy, No Girls Allowed, and Plagg as my selection of daily prompts.

@adrienaugust

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Patrol was quiet.

Maybe it was because Chat Noir and Carapace rarely patrolled together - especially since it wasn’t exactly Chat Noir on patrol tonight. Sure, it was still Adrien under the mask, but with Marinette out of town for a couple weeks, someone had to wear the spots. And who better than her partner and boyfriend?

Thinking about the fashion event again, that was probably the real reason the two of them were in a funk. After all, it’s not like Adrien was a stranger to hanging out with his best bro Nino, masks or no. But neither of them had gotten to see their respective girlfriends for the past two weeks since both of them had made that trip to London together - Marinette to participate and Alya to report for the news outlet she was working for these days.

It also helped that Hawkmoth had been surprisingly quiet for the past couple weeks. There really wasn’t anything to distract them while they patrolled and the city was oddly quiet. And not just in the masks too - most of their friends seemed to be out of town.

Luka had gone on tour with Jagged Stone, leaving his Snake miraculous behind. Kagami had gone back to Japan because of some family emergency. With Marinette and Alya in London, almost the entire hero squad was out of action.

“Ugh!”

Mister Bug lifted his head off of the metal railing to look around for the familiar disgusted voice. He found Plagg watching them from a satellite dish, his black fur making him practically invisible except for his big green eyes looking down on them.

“What’re you grippin’ about now, cat dude?” Carapace said, crossing his arms at Plagg and leaning back against the rooftop railing. “Your fancy feast not up to your expectations?”

“My camembert isn’t the problem, shell boy,” Plagg shot back. “It’s you two moping around yet again just ‘cause your girlfriends aren’t here for you to make goo goo eyes at.”

Mister Bug rolled his eyes. “We aren’t moping!”

“Kid,” Plagg said, staring him down, “you might be able to lie to each other and yourselves, but I know for a fact you’ve been cuddling your new Ladybug body pillow every night since she left.” He tossed his wedge of camembert in the air and ate it in one gulp. “Just admit you’re lonely and save us all the trouble.”

“No we aren’t!” Carapace lied.

“Yeah?” Plagg said with a lazy yawn. “Then prove it. Do something else besides mope.”

Mister Bug and Carapace gave each other uncertain looks before Mister Bug shrugged.

“So, how’s the mixing going for Jagged Stone?”

“Good enough.” Plagg disappeared into Mister Bug’s yoyo.

After a moment of silence, Carapace shook his head. “It’s not going half bad. Not exactly what I thought I’d be doing working for the legend himself, but I love the work and it gives me plenty of time for fun projects.”

“Fun projects like your movie script?”

“Definitely, bro! Though I’ve gotta say the writing and the mixing and putting out original music… creatively, it is super exhausting.”

“I bet! Sometimes I get exhausted just looking at your soundcloud.”

The two of them shared a laugh.

“What about you, my dude?” Carapace lightly punched Mister Bug’s shoulder. “I know you ain’t a slouch. Especially now that you aren’t working for someone’s else’s dream but your own.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Mister Bug sighed and turned around, leaning his back against the railing. “I still have to do some modeling if I want to get my flower shop off the ground but…” He looked up at the moon hanging bright above Paris. “...I’m getting there. My happily ever after.”

Carapace snorted.

“Got a problem with that, shell boy?”

“Nah, just thinking that you and M are perfect for each other is all.”

“Good,” Mister Bug said with a huff. “Because we are.”

Their conversation was cut off there when the sound of something large crashing suddenly drew their attention. They exchanged looks of surprise before they ran off towards it.

Just like they suspected, it was an akuma. After a two week dry spell, it came as a bit of a shock. Did Hawkmoth finally notice that most of the heroes of Paris were missing? Or did their theory that Hawkmoth was a part of the fashion world suddenly gain some credence? After all, many of the designers who presented early in the event would have headed home by now. Maybe Hawkmoth was among them.

For now, all Mister Bug and Carapace needed to do was worry about the akuma. They could figure out the implications of their enemy’s disappearance and reappearance later.

Tonight’s akuma wasn’t anything incredibly special - someone in the flowing robes with stars and moons sewn on them of a magician’s costume floating around the city. The magician cackled with delight at the devastation they caused, gesturing with one hand to pick up objects, no matter how massive and tossing them around. Cars and buses were thrown just as easily as mailboxes and benches.

But it was what was in the akuma’s other hand that caught Mister Bug’s attention.

“Do you see that spoon?” Mister Bug said, pointing toward the akuma.

“Weird choice for an akuma object, but I’m not about to complain.”

They winced as a car went through a building. It was an empty office complex, but the next one might not be. If they wanted to keep the magician from doing more damage, they needed to act now.

“Hey, weirdo!” Carapace shouted as he tossed his shield, the two of them leaping down to the streets below while it went spinning towards the akuma. “Catch!”

The shield suddenly froze in midair as an aura of purple energy surrounded it - the same energy that rolled off the magician akuma in waves. She smiled malevolently, her hand held out in front of her in a stop gesture.

Carapace held his fist up, his forearm right in front of his face, which was screwed up in concentration. The smile immediately vanished from the akuma’s face as the shield was jerkily pulled towards Carapace in small and quick jumps. She focused even harder to maintain her control, her hand clenching into a fist that she shakily pulled toward her.

Eventually the miraculous proved stronger - either that, or the akuma didn’t want to get stuck in a tug of war. The shield slammed back onto Carapace’s arm.

“Shelter!”

No sooner did the green force field go up than the barrage began. It was slow but steady as the akuma repeatedly made one handed throwing gestures with cars responding in kind. Through it all, Carapace held firm with a steely look of determination on his face as he watched cars hurtling towards them, only for them to break upon his impenetrable shield. Not once did he flinch.

After a few seconds of this, he shouted over his shoulder at Mister Bug, “Got any plans, Spots?”

“No clue.” Mister Bug poked his head around his friend, squinting through the debris raining down on them to look at the akuma. “Maybe a lucky charm will help?”

“Prolly can’t hurt, dude.”

“Lucky Charm!” Mister Bug held out his hands for whatever would come down. Secretly he hoped for a net launcher or a tranquilizer dart. Something nice and straightforward.

A bag of marbles (red and black ones, naturally) landed in his hands.

Mister Bug sighed.

“What’re we working with?” Another car shattered against the green dome.

“Marbles, looks like.” A park bench burst into pieces. Mister Bug stroked his chin and stared at the heavy bag. “What can we do with marbles…?”

“Trip the akuma?” A street lamp bent against the shield.

“Bro, she’s floating.”

“Ah, right.”

“What if we just… get a sock, fill it with the marbles and just wail on her?”

Carapace shook his head as a bus bounced off his force field. “If we could get in beating sock range, we could just punch her.” Carapace frowned. “How about flicking the marbles at her as a distraction?”

“She’d just catch them.” Mister Bug’s eyes lit up as an idea came to him. “Unless…”

Mister Bug gently tossed up the bag and caught it a couple times, getting the feel of its weight. His other hand grabbed his yoyo and got it ready as well. He waited for the right moment, watching the oncoming traffic carefully until…

Now!

He threw the bag with all his considerable might at the akuma. The yoyo was sent right after it. His timing was dead on and just as the akuma reached a hand to stop the bag, the yoyo connected with it, bursting the bag and sending a storm of marbles against her. In wide eyed surprise, the akuma reached out with both hands to stop it.

“She dropped the spoon!” Mister Bug excitedly slapped Carapace’s back and pointed at the spoon in question. “Run run run, get it!”

Under the cover of the shield, they bolted for the spoon. By the time the akuma realized what was happening, it was too late - Mister Bug held it triumphantly in his hands.

“So… how do I…?” Mister Bug glanced at Carapace, who shrugged. “Do I just bend it…?”

As soon as the spoon was bent into a right angle, the akuma came fluttering out in a panic. Carapace caught the falling de-akumatized woman as Mister Bug purified the butterfly. Scooping up a bunch of marbles, he tossed them into the air.

“Miraculous Mister Bug!”

The city was set back to normal. Mister Bug and Carapace shared a grin. Ladybug and Rena will be so proud of them when they get back!

#Miraculous Ladybug #Mister Bug #Carapace #Plagg #Adrienette #DJ Wifi #AdrienAugust #ml fanfiction #my writing #AdrienAugreste #Losing Their Marbles

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midnightechoes · 4 years

Text

Daily Writing 2021: March 6th - For Charity part 6

Read it on AO3.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

Submit a prompt for me to write! (I mostly do sapphic ships, especially Catradora, Supercorp, Harlivy, Pertrapta, and Dansen)

Lena sat there, wide-eyed and staring at Kara. Her mouth opened and closed a few times without any sound escaping her.

“I know that this is a lot to take in,” Kara said, her soft voice cutting through the stillness of her apartment. She finally pulled her hands back, letting go of Lena’s. “I’m being serious, though. Here, look,” the blonde was biting her lip as she began unbuttoning her dark, navy blue top.

The action made Lena gulp hard. It was enough to finally rouse her from her state of shock and disbelief. Despite what she had heard Kara say, the idea wasn’t processing in her mind. There was no way that could be true. She must have been mistaken. But exactly why was Kara unbuttoning her shirt? Lena could feel her heart racing as she stared unblinkingly at Kara’s fingers as they played with the buttons, until, finally, with her shirt about halfway unbuttoned, Kara spread it apart, revealing the blue suit and about half the red emblem.

“Is… Is this an attempt at a joke?” Lena muttered, her eyes wide and transfixed on the suit peeking through the shirt.

“Not a joke,” Kara affirmed. She stood up, then, after scanning the apartment for a second, suddenly zipped away. The force of the wind kicked up Lena’s hair, startling her enough so that she fell back into the couch. Within seconds Kara was back to where she had been standing, and holding a small elephant statue that Lena had bought her, that they both knew was on Kara’s shelf on the other side of the room.

Another silence fell on the room as Kara stood there, holding up the item, an uneasy smile on her feet.

Once Lena’s brain was able to catch up to what she had just seen, the Luthor jumped to her feet, and stumbled backward a few feet before coming to a stop as she hit a side chair.

“Y-You’re Supergirl,” Lena stammered.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Kara smiled. She set the statue down and took a couple of steps towards Lena, but stopped when Lena recoiled. The blonde stopped in her place and held up her hands. “You’re mad.”

“I… I’m not… I’m not sure what I am to be perfectly honest,” Lena sighed. After staring at Kara for another moment, Lena relaxed her posture, and let out a chuckled.

"I thought... I thought you were..." Lena trailed off as a laugh bubbled up in her throat until it spilled out of her. She threw her head back and began cackling. The sight was highly unsettling to Kara. “I’m such a fool,” Lena muttered between laughter.

“No!” Kara asserted. “No, you’re not.” The blonde quickly closed the distance between them and pulled Lena’s hands into her own. The Luthor stopped in an instant. There was a look of unease on her face, but she didn’t pull back.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Lena whispered, a frown forming on her face. “Why didn’t you trust me? Is it because of my family? My heritage?”

“What? No, no of course not,” Kara insisted. She gently tugged at Lena’s hands, pulling them back to the couch where they retook their seats.

Kara took a deep breath, gave Lena’s hands a soft squeeze, and smiled at the woman in front of her. “Lena, I trust you implicitly. I always have. I should have told you sooner—”

“—You think?” Lena blurted out. Her eyes were wide still, her voice seemed strained, but there was a slight smile on her face. Enough to give Kara hope that she may not have just blown up the best relationship she’s ever known.

The interruption made Kara giggle slightly. “Okay, I guess I deserve that. I don’t have a great excuse. It was just… every time I wanted to, or tried to, something would come up, or something would interrupt us.

“I swear, Lena, I trust you. You mean the world to me and I don’t want to hide any part of me from you.” Kara dipped her head slightly, her face going flush. “I’m sorry I did for so long.”

Lena still wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Thinking back to her encounters with Supergirl, the revelation went a long way to explain why the Girl of Steel seemed so quick to trust Lena. To trust her with help stopping Cadmus and her mother. With help stopping the Daxamite invasion. Some things poked at Lena, an argument with Supergirl in Lena’s office. The way the Super would carry herself with a mightier than thou attitude that Lena was still having difficulty picturing Kara doing. She wanted to believe her best friend, wanted to accept that this was Kara further letting Lena into her life, but there were things to still talk through, work through. At that very moment, though, there was only one question that Lena was focused on.

“Why now?” the Luthor inquired.

Kara bought herself a few seconds by clearing her throat.

“Because… you paid eight hundred thousand dollars to go on a date with me,” the blonde confessed. “And… I don’t know exactly what you meant by ‘just a good bit of fun’, but before you went any farther, I thought you deserved to know exactly who you were trying to have a ‘good bit of fun’ with.”

“Aw, were you worried I might ask Supergirl out again?” Lena shot back, her voice the liveliest it had been since she woke up.

“Actually, yes,” Kara responded flatly.

The matter-of-fact manner of Kara’s statement took Lena aback. She tugged her hands out of Kara’s grasp and turned slightly so that she wasn’t looking at the blonde any longer. “Right. The only way Supergirl would say yes to a date with me is if it was because I dropped an obscene amount of money on a charity. Got it,” Lena sneered.

“No, that’s not…” Kara began to protest. She let the sentence trail off as she rubbed her eyes. “This isn’t going how I was hoping it would,” she sighed.

The Kryptonian placed a hand on Lena’s knee; the Luthor, in turn, crossed her arms and turned further away.

“Okay,” Kara murmured. She took a moment to gather herself.

“I was afraid of you asking Supergirl out because if you did… I wouldn’t have been able to say no. And… And that wouldn’t be fair to you,” Kara confessed. Lena finally turned back towards Kara, an eyebrow raised as a look of confusion was settling in. “You would have just been looking for something light and fun, but I… I…”

Kara took a moment to readjust herself. She once again searched out for Lena’s hands, or at least, the closed one, and engulfed that hand of Lena’s in her own.

“Lena, you are my best friend. Besides Alex and Eliza, you mean the most to me in this whole world. I am so, so grateful to know you, to have you in my life, and the last thing I want to do is lose that, or jeopardize it…”

Suddenly, Lena felt short of breath. Suddenly, she felt like she was right back to where they had been a few minutes ago. Lena was reeling from all the twists and turns of the evening, from the revelations and feelings that still needed unpacking. There was a part of her that wanted to be mad at Kara, a part of her angry that Kara’s sudden reveal threw what was true between them and what was not into question. But all that anger, all that frustration was quickly falling away as her hand was once again encased in the warmth of the woman in front of her. The blonde flashed a soft smile at Lena, and the Luthor found herself entranced by the gaze of those striking blue eyes.

“...But you must know how I feel about you, right?” Kara continued. The implication of the statement slammed into Lena with the force of, well, Supergirl. “I thought I was doing good at hiding it, but Alex has assured me that I do not,” the Kryptonian chuckled. “It would have been wrong for me to agree to go out with you, as Supergirl, when I feel the way I do. That’s why I needed to tell you tonight. That’s why it couldn’t wait any longer. And that’s wh—”

“—I think I’m in love with you,” Lena blurted out.

It left the Kryptonian speechless. She was stopped midsentence, her mouth opening and closing in a futile attempt to speak.

Lena had shocked herself nearly as much by her sudden admission. Which is why she was so proud of herself for being able to push “and I’d really like to kiss you,” out of her mouth immediately afterward.

“O-okay,” Kara stammered breathlessly. Lena scooted over as close as she could to Kara, and leaned in, hovering just in front of Kara, her breath cascading onto the blonde’s lips. After a second to catch her own breath, Kara closed the remaining difference.

Their lips seemed to slot together perfectly. Kara pressed a little harder into Lena, eliciting a moan from the Luthor. Kara’s hands slid up Lena’s sides, coming to a rest on Lena’s back, pulling her in as much as she could; Lena’s arms wrapped themselves around Kara’s head as she did so. Lena flicked her tongue against Kara’s teeth until the Kryptonian allowed her entrance.

It was as if the entire world melted away as they melted into each other’s arms, over a year of built-up yearning spilling out onto each other’s lips.

The need for air was the only thing that ultimately stopped them. Kara and Lena broke apart, but only barely, pressing their foreheads together and giggling. One of Kara’s hands moved from Lena’s back to cup her face, thumb gently brushing along her cheek.

“Alright, I am definitely in love with you,” Lena chirped.

“Me too,” Kara affirmed.

“So,” Lena began, a devious smile forming on her kiss-beaten lips, “if I asked Supergirl out, she’d say yes?”

“Well, it’ll still cost you,” Kara responded with a sly smile.

A small frown formed on the raven-haired woman’s face. “Oh?”

“Don’t worry, she takes kisses as payment,” Kara laughed, and only stopped when Lena made her first payment.

the End

#46 #daily writing 2021 #writing #my writing #supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara zor el #date #charity auction #dc #dc comics #lena x kara #wlw

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ofgoodmenarchive · 4 years

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The fifth in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian.

Saving Time

“What were you thinking!-” Dorian punctuated his statement by kicking the rarely-used cooking pot. It soared through the murk of their cave and barely missed his shadow- ducking with a hiss.

“You- under-handed!- Witless!-” He struggled for words, fists clenching and unclenching. “Vile! Stupid!”

Lacking more projectiles, Dorian couldn't restrain his hands from tossing fire. Granted, none of the flares could harm the demon- their bond nullified any damage either might attempt. Still, it gratified him somewhat to observe the instinctive floundering.

“I told you to leave it to me!” He berated without reserve, merciless even as his living silhouette coiled, openly sulking against the rugged stone.

“Were you trying to scare him off?! Because that's all you'll do- or did you forget?! Did we not already have this exact discussion?!”

Not responding directly, it instead deflated into itself with a pitiful wheeze. Yet Dorian understood- he had after all, been privy to the basics of it's exchange with Lavellan- though lacking much detail. He thusly responded, still incensed;

“Well, what were you expecting?! He wasn't even prepared!- You didn't give me time to warn him! You're lucky you didn't scare him to death- no, more than that! You're lucky he didn't send his people to raze the bloody hillside!”

His shadow echoed this dismay- though more pathetically. Tossing it's head back with an inhuman but somehow childish wail. Desire communicated it's own distress and feelings of rejection like a kicked feline.

“STOP THAT! STOP YOWLING!” Dorian ordered, feet-stamping in his impatience. “I-once-again-must-ask-you- WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING?!”

Finally choosing to answer, Desire waved it's arms in a show of upset defeat.

“Name!- His name!”

“WHAT ABOUT HIS BLOODY NAME?!”

Hunching in surrender- as if realising, to some extent, how foolish it's thinking was- Desire grumbled.

“If his name is ours....then he is ours...”

“WHAT?!” His confusion and outrage intensified. “Are you stupid?! THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!”

It shooed him off with a growl, arms folding impetuously

“....He is Dalish- 'Eldest Lavellan'...It works that way.”

“Stop it!” Kicking pebbles, Dorian continued to scold. “Stop looking into his mind! Stop thinking you know what you're doing!- Just STOP!”

His shadow shrank into the corner, glowering but unable to think of an argument. Lavellan after all, hadn't given the creature his name- whatever notions it had of promptly 'claiming' the elf had been dashed. That being the case...

...It was visibly quite depressed.

“Oh, Maker, don't be like that...” The mage awkwardly consoled. “You're just...we're just...a bit much, don't you see? You should know this by now! It's just....how it is, alright? Nothing to sulk about...”

Yet the being would sulk and Dorian would find himself punctured by it's anguish. Irritated by this more than anything, he paced, muttering...

“For the love of Andraste...don't grieve over one bloody man like this- it's really not becoming...”

Desire peeked at him but clearly dismissed this advice, remaining in it's forlorn huddle. Seeing no choice but to switch tactics, he sat alongside the creature, sighing empathetically.

“...Maybe it's not so bad!” He offered, attempting to convince himself while speaking. “He hasn't sent anyone after us, or anything...I'll speak to him, alright? I'll apologise for your awfully uncouth behaviour, and explain that you are quite harmless. You've just gained something of a, uh...fascination...”

His shadow pouted at him, wordless.

“...If we hadn't already invested so much time...I'd say abandoning this 'fascination' would benefit you more than pursuing it...”

The creature's eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.

“Well...that's sort of my point,” Dorian said with a laugh, gesturing at it's pinched face. “Since when are you so picky?”

Snarling, it slumped with more exaggeration, not dignifying this statement with a response.

“Fine, fine...” Dorian stood, rolling his eyes. “...Let's scent out Lunis' trail then, no? Hopefully our Herald can spare us a moment between rounding up lyrium-smugglers, and trying to end a bloody war...”

Energised by this plan, Desire hopped up, teeth gleaming cheerfully through the dark shroud that always lingered.

They were nearing Redcliffe when Dorian abruptly lost track of the minion's presence.

This was concerning for many reasons. Mainly it concerned him because he knew very well who had settled at the castle.

Alexius and his Venatori. People who likely considered Dorian a traitor or lost to the wilderness- depending on what information had been acquired in regard to his movements.

As he approached the gated courtyard, aiming to meet Alexius somewhere inside, he became doubly unnerved. If Lunis had been struck down, he should feel nothing of the beast. Yet the impression hadn't simply vanished- it had scattered. His senses judged Lunis to be everywhere, yet nowhere definable.

By then he had a theory- but only speaking with Alexius would give true insight.

No one stopped Dorian as he sauntered through the castle, though cultists who recognised him shot doubtful glances. Since they weren't attacking on sight, he assumed they knew little of what exactly had occupied the renegade.

He met Alexius in the throne room; relaxed upon its ornate chair, snickering with one of his inferiors.

“...It will be rather interesting to see when the poor fool will reappear, in any case.”

Catching the tail-end of this conversation, Dorian strode forth, beaming as if nothing were amiss. While approaching he noted a dark, sooty stain upon the floor, briefly disturbing his internal map. Now his being was convinced Lunis' energy was somehow caught in the damn tiles.

Very quickly, Dorian pieced the scene together.

“If you were inviting the Inquisition for a party, you should have sent for me!” He bantered, acting oblivious towards Alexius' calculating stare.

“Were you not instructed to observe the Rifts?” The older mage knit his brow. “Yet my people have heard nothing of you- now here you are...without any of the instruments you departed with.”

None of this caused Dorian's smile to falter. If anything it widened, shrugging simply as he stated-

“I lost it.”

“You...lost it? You 'lost' a whole bag of equipment?” Alexius' features hardened but Dorian merely laughed.

“I don't know if you've noticed...but the Ferelden countryside is somewhat of a mess between the Inquisition, demons, Templars, rebel mages...and us, of course.”

“...Of course...” Though he didn't relent completely- eyes squinting. “...And I suppose in all this mayhem, you managed to find some...distraction...completely unrelated to the task you were to be compensated for?”

The implication and disgust was palpable- and not totally incorrect. Dorian at least considered himself fortunate that Alexius seemed ignorant to who had 'distracted' the maleficar.

“You know me too well!” He chuckled heartily, displaying no shame.

Scoffing at this, Alexius grumbled;

“We won't be paying you for a job you failed to accomplish, I hope you realise...”

“I thought as much, yes.” Yet he would stand there, smiling foolishly and expectantly until Alexius growled and began once more to lecture;

“We can still make use of you...but your incompetence thus far, Dorian, has been noted. Rest assured that if matters here hadn't concluded to our satisfaction...I would not be suffering your presence in this moment.”

“How kind of you, Alexius!” Dorian chimed with mirth, needling lightly into the topic. “And how did things here conclude to 'our satisfaction'? From the looks of it, all you've done is burn a hole through the poor Arl's floor...”

He'd hoped the arrogance of the man would lure him into relinquishing details- and was glad to see himself correct.

“That fool 'Herald'...” Alexius guffawed, gesturing to the charred tiles. “...as you'd expect from a fraud, he has not the tiniest grasp of the forces he meddles with. I flung him out of time- along with that...repulsive mutt of his...”

Dorian's mouth twitched- he willed it to remain smiling.

However, Alexius' gaze narrowed.

“...Quite strange, really. The creature resembled one of yours.”

“One of mine?” He cackled as sincerely as possible- a trained mannerism. “Oh yes, I'm sure the Southern Chantry would love to have one of my abominable little minions running around! Surely the Herald of Andraste, with his Dalish heritage, would adore such a gift from a Tevinter blood mage!”

That appeared to quell Alexius' assumptions for now- he leant back into his usurped throne, scowling.

“Point taken...but your ongoing absence is unacceptable, regardless. For the time being, I expect you to remain in Redcliffe- until we think of how you can be of actual use.”

“But of course!” Dorian accepted with a melodramatic bow. “I only live to serve, Magister Alexius!”

Unimpressed by this show, Alexius dismissed him with a noise of disgust.

“Out of my sight now...I would like to savour this victory, without your foolish remarks...”

Back turned on Alexius and his Venatori, Dorian's ever-present smile morphed into a sneer.

He wouldn't act until nightfall.

With the Herald's supposed removal, the Venatori were lulled into a sense of security- a false one, if Dorian would have anything to say about it. Alexius' research into magical time shifts wasn't news to him- but he'd have to act immediately for any hope of success.

Who even knew what Lavellan was being pit up against- weeks or months into an undoubtedly chaotic future?

The first step would be to retrieve Alexius' amulet- with that, he'd be capable of triangulating Lunis' exact place and time. That accomplished, all he'd have to do is locate the Herald and bring him home.

For any other mage, swiping the amulet in itself would be a complication. For Dorian, it was as simple as recruiting a little friend. Lounging in the courtyard beneath glaring twin moons, he waited for the wily rat to return.

It soon did so, squeaking and scrabbling- as it was a literal rat. Albeit one with an adorable, miniscule skull for a head. Loping from one sill to the other, soon it was clambering down rough brick, plopping onto Dorian's shoulder with an accompanying jangle.

“Took you long enough!” He jested, unburdening the rodent of its spoils. “Perfectly done, though! I doubt anyone even noticed.”

Emitting many a pleased squeal, his furry friend pounced into his hood, rolling comfortably.

“Well...you can go back to sleep, or you can stay here, it's really up to...” There was no reason to finish- predictably, his minion wished to slumber until its services were called upon. It would become something of a fossil once the wisp floated into the Fade- a strange ornament that most wouldn't think twice about. Not the only grim trinket one might find on his person, either.

Initial steps fulfilled, Dorian fled from the village, knowing he would never be welcomed back.

Tracking Lunis' precise time-space took longer than Dorian would have liked.

A week- perhaps two? It was difficult to count the days between the spreading of Rifts, constant clashes between Venatori and Inquisition, and of course the Venatori's pursuit of himself.

Much of it involved working within the Fade, utilising the amulet as a beacon. Outside of the Fade, he roamed and hunted, following whatever signs- mundane or otherwise- that led to the place part of where he meant to travel.

The time part was more tricky- but Dorian was sure he'd pinned it down- the exact location, in the exact time-shift.

For reasons he couldn't hazard, Lavellan and Lunis had been taken to the other side of the Hinterlands, where there was an old fort. Currently held by Inquisition- that must not be so in whatever future the Herald occupied.

Dorian situated himself outside the fort, far enough to be unnoticed but close enough to reach in a short sprint. Once he jumped through, after all, he could waste no...well, time.

Fiddling with the amulet, he ensured none of his calculations were off, breathing deep, muffling stress...

Travelling through time was not a usual experience for him...

Truthfully, if the Herald wasn't so clearly integral to the success of the Inquisition, he wouldn't be fool enough to attempt such a thing. It was all a bit much just to save and impress some bloody man!

However by some ridiculous twist of fate...Dorian was the singular person able to retrieve the Inquisition's Herald. He supposed then, it was fortunate for both he and all of Thedas, that he just so happened to rather like the damn fool...

While Dorian pondered and probed the amulet he was aware of his shadow- watching him, intent...

“...Alright, listen...” Exhaling, he met Desire's gaze. “...Where we're headed, this Breach nonsense will be out of control- so just...try to remember...”

Struggling to think of what he wanted the creature to remember, Dorian rubbed his forehead. Deciding on words, he looked his shadow square in the eye and dictated-

“Fuck the Fade. Fuck it's endless knowledge. Fuck Corypheus. Fuck the Venatori. Fuck everything that isn't you and me! That's how it's always been! You'll remember that, won't you...?”

Blinking at him, apparently baffled by this lack of confidence, Desire answered with a firm nod.

“...Alright...” Inhaling, Dorian stretched the amulet before him. “I'm trusting you, old friend.”

With a muttered incantation, green swirls of fire possessed the object and his attached arm, gathering until they formed a tear in existence itself.

Mustering all the courage available to him, Dorian stepped through.

Into a world of pure, hellish mayhem.

There was no longer a single Breach and various Rifts- the sky was consumed by Breach, the land littered in demons and Rifts. The quaint Ferelden countryside was strewn with months-old carnage, and not a moment seemed to go by without a roar, a scream, a distant explosion.

“Andraste's-flaming-tits.” He uttered witlessly, briefly unable to do anything but behold the chaos. Alongside him he could feel Desire fluttering, panicked. It didn't like this future anymore than he did- and must have felt vulnerable and exposed, with the Fade and reality mashed together.

“Yes, I know, just-” Before he could finish, Dorian was overwhelmed by an internal sensation of tearing and burning. Though he didn't panic- Desire was simply escaping as far from the Breach as possible, into it's bound vessel.

“GARGH! FOR THE LOVE OF-” He didn't panic but he would complain! “I hate when you do that!”

If someone else were present, they would have noticed the hint of crimson overtake his eyes, pupils becoming snake-like. Hardly a concern right now- who was around to judge? Besides, Desire's manner of seeing would be of use. Finding Lunis and Lavellan would be effortless with the combination of his bond to the wolf, and his shadow's penchant for identifying auras.

“On with it, then!” Steeling himself, he progressed towards the fort- no Inquisition banners now, obviously. No banners at all, actually.

Someone had helpfully scrawled over the parapets in blood, but Dorian didn't count that.

There was no alarm at his approach, he raced through the smashed portcullis and into a courtyard without problem. By now, he supposed there wasn't a large force defending the structure, down to whatever skeleton crew was necessary to control Lavellan.

...Come to think of it- why are they bothering to keep him alive?

Not just the Herald but also Lunis...

This epiphany filled Dorian with foreboding but he didn't have to suffer in ignorance for long. Passing a row of wooden holdings- animal-pens, it looked like- a familiar presence called to him, soon accompanied by frantic scrapes, bangs and strange rumbles...

That would be the dog, then.

Rushing to the wobbling door, he wrestled off the latch and was instantly tackled by a ton of muscle and fur, topped off by a wilting flame.

“Yes-yes-I'm happy to see you too!” He assured the canine, wrangling it off him. “But where's your master- where's Lavellan?!”

Obediently plopping at his heels, Lunis sat with tail drooped and shoulders low, offering a responsive whine.

“Yes, just hold still..” Dorian guided, kneeling before the minion. “I'll take a look...”

A hand placed on the nape of Lunis' stitched neck, he delved into the creature's memory...

Separated from Master. Blood. Yelling. Sprinting over corpses.

Bad people. Smell bad. All have that smell. Death. Despair.

Master's voice- angry, yelling.

Running towards it. Want to help Master!

Grabbed! Too many hands! Snarling- ANGRY!- Master yelling- “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

Laughter. Unkind. Talking. Death-smells.

Master is not fighting anymore. He throws his weapon to the ground.

They take him away.

I HOWL I YELL I FIGHT.

BUT THEY TOOK HIM AWAY.

Throw me in the dark. I howl. No one replies. I howl. No one replies.

Master is yelling again. It is not angry yelling. Master is in pain.

I howl. I ram the door. I FIGHT. I AM ANGRY.

They will not let me out. I cannot get out.

I CANNOT HELP HIM.

Yelling stops. Door opens- it is Master!

He is happy to see me. I am happy to see him!

But he is hurt. Arm stinks of blood and death. I whine. I want to clean it.

Laughs at me. Calls me a good boy. Tells me not to whine. Hugs me with one arm.

Calls me a good boy. I try to clean his arm. He laughs at me, hugs me. Laughter turns into crying.

Hugs me once more. Tells me to be good.

They take him away again.

They keep taking him away.

Dorian emerged from the desperate vision with a gasp, sickened and panicked to his core- and just slightly irate...

“...They're using you to keep him subdued?! That's why they didn't just kill you?!- They're trying to remove the mark! And you're the only mechanism of control they have over him...” His mouth twitched, almost wincing. “That...that bloody sentimental idiot! Doesn't he realise you're not actually a dog?! He might have found his way back by now if it weren't for you!”

If it weren't for me.

If I hadn't given him this stupid gift!

Before him, Lunis whined, descending to hide against his front paws.

“Shh, it's fine..” Dorian patted fur absently, glancing around. “...Stay here, alright? I don't want anyone noticing me...I'll find him, and then we'll all go home, yes?”

Lunis had just enough cheer and stamina to lightly wave his tail, signalling obedience.

“That's a good boy...I'll be right back- with your master!”

He sealed the pen in an effort to avoid detection, then charged inside. By this point he was thankful for Desire's cowardice. Whilst bound in this fashion, hunting down Lavellan was a simple matter of rifling through energies. Dorian supposed he should be thankful for the demon's lecherous nature. It's recent contact with the Herald caused his aura to shine prominently, even weak and broken from torment.

Somewhere on the lower levels- smaller energies around him. Apparently someone thought it amusing to throw their Dalish prisoner in with the hounds.

Outrage flooded him upon this discovery- especially from Desire. As far as the demon was concerned, Lavellan was already theirs. To have something of 'theirs' treated with such blatant disrespect- regarded as a beast- it sent his shadow wild. He could barely keep a lid on the fury.

“Listen...” Dorian ground out, descending stairs. “...You need to keep your head on straight, friend! He's alive- and we're going to get him out of here. So just...focus on that.”

Together they attempted to do just that, while lurking the lower cells in search of Lavellan...

They'd tossed him into a cell at the very back. Dorian heard the restful wheeze of a dog-pack before any sound or sight from Lavellan. The cell lock was worthless- easily melted with a fistful of fire.

“Hello...? Herald...?” He inquired very quietly, skulking into the damp cell, disturbing piles of hay. A few canines grunted but didn't seem able to differentiate him from every other loudly dressed Tevinter.

“DIE, VENATORI SCUM!” Lavellan also seemed unable to differentiate- before Dorian knew what was happening, his back was shoved against a wall, a blunt knife wavering against his throat.

“Oh!- you're out of your chains!-” He giggled somewhat nervously “And you found a knife!”

“AND I WILL GUT YOU WITH IT!- TEVINTER PIG!”

Rusted metal pressed against Dorian's jugular, the seriousness of Lavellan's threats striking him all at once-

“WAIT-WAIT-WAIT! Look- it's ME!- Dorian Pavus- remember?!”

Wild eyes fixed upon his, brimming with confusion and hatred. The Herald was exactly in the sort of state you'd expect- clothes ragged, soaked in blood and filth, hair a crazed mane, features exhausted. His right arm was heavily bandaged- he held the knife in his left, as correctly as he could manage.

“You are with them!” He hissed- but thankfully seemed hesitant. “You were mentioned by name!”

“But you haven't actually seen me with any of them- have you?!” Dorian struggled, reaching for every detail he could find. “If they have mentioned me- it's probably as an incompetent fool who never does his job, no?!”

A glimmer of doubt passed over Lavellan's expression- but again his knife-grip firmed.

“How do you expect me to believe that?!”

“I brought you Lunis, didn't I?!” He spluttered- at a loss. “And he's a good boy, isn't he?!”

Something in the Herald's face appeared to crumble, eyes watering, mouth wincing.

“Yes- he- he is a good boy...” He admitted in a whimper, still toying with the blade.

“Yes- exactly! He's a good boy! And I gave him to you- to find you- remember?! And look- I found you! Just as I said I would!”

“...He...” Gasping slowly, Lavellan stumbled back, repeating as if unsure of his words. “...He is a good boy. That is true...”

All at once he flopped against the wall, leaning there tiredly while a nearby hound sniffed at the noise. Most of them seemed to ignore it- Dorian supposed they'd been privy to a lot of shouting. Either that, or he was so focused on the knife at his throat that he didn't register their howls.

“How did you...even get that?” He questioned, pointing to the blade.

Lavellan fumbled with it, lazily explaining...

“They made me sleep with the hounds. I taught one to fetch.”

“And the...chains?” This time, he pointed to the split shackles bound to his wrists.

“I froze one link. Gradually.” Lifting his arms, he feigned yanking them apart. “Like firewood.”

For a while Dorian regarded him in stunned silence. He'd meant to save the poor fool- but he was already half-way to saving himself. Still, he was in such a state...he couldn't get far on his own, could he?

Even so...he was more than a little impressed by the elf's tenacity.

“All of that...must have taken a while.” He observed with a frown, wondering how long Lavellan had suffered this fate- passage of time between the two worlds was clearly not identical. For all Dorian knew, he could have been here months...

“I did not keep track.” Lavellan said with a lame shrug- before his eyes suddenly sparked. “Guards- they are in mid-change? You saw no one? No one stopped you?” “What? I...I really couldn't say. I didn't see anyone, but-”

Disinterested in further explanation, the Herald burst from his cell, weapon in hand. He proceeded to storm through the halls, Dorian desperately trying to match his pace. He resisted calling out, not wanting to attract attention to either of them.

Maker!

He's bloody fast for someone who so clearly needs medical attention!

Lavellan rounded a corner and within milliseconds Dorian heard an absolutely terrified-

“OH SHIT!- OH SHIT!- WAIT-WAIT-WAIT-STOP!-PLEASE-”

Followed by a wet splat- a scream- a gurgle.

Upon reaching the noise, Dorian was faced by more or less what he'd mentally prepared for. The Herald had bowled into some unsuspecting Venatori guard, proceeding to messily tear them asunder with an implement far too worn for such butchery. It was a vicious, ceaseless activity. Dorian noted the wealth of Lavellan's assault was focused on the man's right arm- though he was dead by then.

His death failed to please or be acknowledged by the Herald, who commenced tearing muscle and skin.

Dorian didn't interfere at first. He had an uneasy sense of witnessing something deeply personal- deeply vengeful.

He allowed the man to navigate these emotions however he saw fit- for as long as it felt safe, anyway. He couldn't just...stand around and watch the Herald mutilate corpses all day...

“...My Herald,” He said gently, stepping forward. “...I do believe that man has been rather dead for several minutes...”

Lavellan flung the knife aside, fresh crimson staining the entire length of his body.

“What a pity.” Was all he said.

He then rooted around the man's cloak until retrieving his actual weapon- Dorian recognised the bladeless hilt from previous encounters. However it was merely held at his side, loose and inept.

...He probably doesn't have the strength to summon the blade right now,

let alone use it...

“Lunis...” A growl from the Herald stirred him from his thoughts. “Take me to Lunis.”

“Of course, but...” Dorian perked a brow, curious. “I have to ask...what exactly was your plan?”

“My plan?” Lavellan wheezed in bitter amusement, seeming pained by the motion. “You saw the extent of my plan.”

Blinking from the Herald to the desecrated corpse, Dorian's brow lifted higher.

“Your plan was just...brutally kill that man in specific...?”

“Yes.”

“...Right, well...”

Unsettled by the whole circumstance, Dorian was eager to leave this damned timeline. He was grateful they encountered only a few Venatori stragglers- nothing that couldn't be solved with an inferno or two. Incapable of a true bout, Lavellan was forced to rely on Dorian's protection- though never complained.

Master and hound were reunited shortly; the undead canine leapt into Lavellan's chest, clutching firmly, Lavellan mumbled and cooed in Dalish, settling the wolf's nerves.

“You do realise that's not actually a dog, yes?” Dorian couldn't help but point out. “It's just a Fade-Wisp...inhabiting a preserved corpse...”

The Herald scowled at this, embracing Lunis tightly.

“It is a Fade-Wisp that believes itself to be a dog, in the body of a dog. In every way that matters, it is a dog.”

He could only blink dumbly at that logic- though Lunis panted in cheerful agreement.

Escaping together, the trio trudged through a dire landscape, returning to the necessary spot for their backwards time-shift.

“Hold onto me,” Dorian advised, gingerly taking Lavellan's wrist. “This might make you feel just a tad sick.”

The elf pressed into his side, patient and silent while another vortex flared into life, swallowing them both.

Above them, the sun was shining.

Granted- there was still a Breach- but it hadn't overwhelmed the whole blighted sky!

“Maker, finally!” Dorian sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. “I almost can't believe we made it back!”

Lavellan only offered a soft grunt, still slouched into his rescuer's frame.

I really need to bring him to a healer...

“Come- you see there?” He waved towards the fort. “Inquisition banners!- Your people. Let's get you home, my dear Herald...”

“...Yes, I see...” Detaching, he lurched forward- though managed just a few steps before buckling. Dorian rushed to offer support, insisting on it when Lavellan hesitated.

“Don't be shy now,” He cajoled sweetly. “It's alright to lean on me- I don't know how you've been upright for this long, really...”

Mute, the Herald allowed this without protest- probably lacking conviction to do so.

Lunis scampered ahead, barking in that odd, ethereal fashion that was not really a bark, since he lacked vocal chords. By the time Dorian caught up with Lavellan hanging off him, completely unconscious, a group of soldiers were blinking down from the parapets.

He imagined they were an odd sight- a Tevinter blood mage, holding up their famed and highly-honoured Herald of Andraste, both soaked in blood and the latter appearing mauled by a bear.

“LET ME IN!” He demanded, angling so they could better sight his burden. “I brought him back!- I brought back your bloody Herald!”

Commotion erupted from within, excitement and shock crashing over the populace like a wave.

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redpandaramblings · 4 years

Text

I’m More of a Cat Person. Aizawa x Inuyasha.

Let me first say that I am so sorry and I blame my friends. This was originally suggested as an impossible crack ship. So naturally my feral brain couldn’t and wouldn’t let it go. I’m still working on my other, serious stuff. This just held me hostage until I finished it. Formatting is probably a mess because I’m on mobile right now. Will edit later.

Content Warning-

Not SFW. Crack treated seriously. Aged up Character. (Inuyasha written as in his mid thirties or so.) Lime. Fade to black sex scene. Drunk sex. Dubcon. Hickeys. Implication of switching. Love motels. Cheese. Slight AU.

Shouta slumped on the bar. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting at the sticky, stinking counter. The number of glasses seemed to indicate it’s been a while. Of course that might not be accurate. It’s a little hazy, but he recalls knocking drinks back at an alarming rate earlier. And this wasn’t the kind of place that cared about overserving sad sacks of shit like himself. He buried his head in his arms and groaned quietly. Sloshed as he was, he still hadn’t hit a point of being drunk enough to forget about what had happened earlier that day. The way Zashi and Nemuri had looked at each other as they had announced their relationship in the break room. How they had laughed when they said it had been a long time coming. He had noticed the two hadn’t invited him out quite as much as they had used to, but he felt like a fool for not spotting the signs sooner. Shouta raised his hand and called for another shot as memory after stubborn memory refused to leave his brain. The ghostly feeling of Hizashi throwing his arm around his shoulders and telling him how he’d totally set him up on a date with somebody particularly stung.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by the clink of two glasses being set in front of him. He blinks several times to make sure his eyes are still focusing. Yep. Two glasses. He looks questioningly at the bartender. The bartender shrugs and points to a booth on the other side of the room. A tall, white haired man in a red suit raised a glass and smirked.

Aizawa knew he shouldn’t. He was not remotely in the right mindset to be doing anything right now. Unfortunately, impulse control has siddled out the door about eight shots ago. Shouta downed the shot he had ordered himself, before picking up the second glass and standing. Only his years of hero training kept him from wobbling as he made his way across the room. The white haired man’s gaze didn’t leave him as he made his way to the table. Shouta leaned on the table and looked the other man over. He was handsome, despite his somewhat garish outfit. His hair was long and loose. Two white pointed ears twitched on top of his head. It was hard to gauge the other’s age, but probably was somewhere around his thirties. Shouta gave a smirk as he spoke.

“White hair, red suit. Guess I have to say thanks for the gift, Santa.”

The white haired man threw back his head and laughed, making a pair of pointed fangs visible. Aizawa tried to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine at the sight of them. The stranger held out a hand with some dangerous looking nails. “Well I suppose that depends on if you’ve been a good boy or not,” he purred.

Shouta couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped him at that statement. He shook the stranger’s hand as he slid into the booth with him. The glasses on the table seemed to indicate that whoever the white haired man was, his evening was going just about as well as Shouta’s. Shouta licked his lips before saying softly. “I’m Shouta.”

A fanged smirk met that statement. “Inuyasha. Look, Shouta, I’m going to be blunt. I’ve been watching you for a while and it looks like maybe your misery could use a little company.”

Shouta leaned back in his seat, regarding this Inuyasha for a few moments. “Bad night for you too?”

Inuyasha nodded. “Yeah. And I’m looking to make it better.”

This was crazy. Shouta wasn’t going to have a one night stand with a stranger from one of the seediest bars he knew. They both were drunk and upset. Yet here he was, standing and offering a hand to this other man. “Well then, what are we still doing here? There’s a love motel a couple blocks away.”

Inuyasha grabbed his hand and gave a near feral grin as he stood. “Just let me settle our tabs.”

Aizawa raised his eyebrows, but didn’t complain. If a handsome man was going to offer to pay his probably sizable bill, he wasn’t going to complain. He downed the last of his drink as he waited. It wasn’t long before Inuyasha returned, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Let’s get out of here, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe.” Shouta mumbled, slinging his own arm around the other man.

“Babe, Sweetheart, Kitty Cat~” Inuyasha cackled louder than was necessary.

Aizawa attempted to elbow him in the ribs, stumbling in the process. “Shut up, mutt.”

The two bickered as they made their wobbly way out the door and down the street to the love hotel. Soon enough, they had paid for a room and were stumbling their way to it. Aizawa draped himself over Inuyasha’s back, nibbling at the other man’s neck as he fumbled with the key, trying to unlock the door.

The door lock finally cooperated and the men nearly fell in, kicking the door closed behind them. They were on each other in seconds, pawing at each other’s clothes. Lips came together, and tongues battled for dominance. Teeth nipped each other’s lips, hard enough to bruise. Alcohol buzzing through their veins, they fell to the bed, and time became a blur of motion and touch, give and take.

The next morning, Aizawa awoke to a pounding headache. His mouth felt like sandpaper, and his eyes throbbed more than usual. Blindly, he reached out to grab for his alarm clock to check the time. It was then Aizawa became immediately aware of a few things. He was not in his bed. It really hurt to move anything at all. There was someone wrapped around his back like an oversized octopus. With some difficulty and dread, Shouta slowly rolled over to face his bed companion.

The first thing he noticed was the pointed, white, twitching dog ears. As Shouta took in the other man’s face and the trail of hickeys leading from his neck downward, Shouta began remembering bits and pieces of the night that had transpired. A quick glance down and he confirmed with a resigned groan that his body also was covered in evidence of their night time activities. Bite makes, hickeys, bruises, scratches. It looked like he’d come out on the wrong side of a fight with a bear. He was so busy inspecting his minor injuries, that it took him a moment to notice the pair of golden eyes blinking up at him.

“Morning, Wildcat.” Inuyasha gave a flirtatious wink before stretching, groaning as his joints popped. The sheets pooled around his hips, showing off the impressive amounts of marks on his skin. Shouta didn’t answer as he turned away to hide a blush. He’s not a virgin by any means, but he’s never done anything remotely close to this before. Looking for a distraction, he leaned over the edge of the bed, rummaging through discarded clothing until he found his phone. He squinted at the screen, his hungover brain trying to make sense of the numbers. When he finally did, he jolted upright, ignoring the way his muscles screamed. “Fuck!”

Inuyasha made a questioning hum, reaching over and gently rubbing the tense muscles between Aizawa’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m late for school!” Aizawa scrambled off the bed, hunting for his pants.

“You? Late for school? Kinda doubt that.” Inuyasha leaned back, letting his eyes rack over the dark haired man as he hopped on one leg, struggling into his pants.

“I’m a fucking teacher!” Aizawa yelled as he finished pulling up his pants, bending over as he swiped up his shirt.

“You are indeed a fucking teacher.” Inuyasha smirked, lazily scratching his head. “Want me to call you a cab?”

Aizawa thought for a moment as he adjusted his shirt and began to wrap his capture weapon around his neck, making sure all hickeys were covered. “No. Will be faster if I run from here.”

The dog eared man stood, stretching languidly. “If you say so. We should do this again sometime when you aren’t in a rush. Let me treat you to breakfast or something.”

“Not happening.” Shouta said as he shrugged his jacket on. “This is not happening again. This shouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Ouch. Kitty cat has claws in the morning. Come on now, you can’t say you didn’t have a good time.” Inuyasha grinned, pulling his own shirt over his head.

Aizawa shook his head as he made sure he had his jacket and wallet and he quickly walked to the door. “I don’t need or want a damn puppy sniffing around me and my business. We can forget last night ever happened. You won’t see me again and I won’t see you again. Besides.” Aizawa couldn’t keep himself from throwing one final taunt over his shoulder. “I’m much more of a cat person.” And with that, Aizawa let the door bang closed behind him. If he ran, he might not be noticeably late.

Inuyasha sighed, staring at the closed door. He had just been seeking a one night stand last night. But from what details his fuzzy mind supplied, the night had gone a lot better than anything he’d had in a long time. It really would have been nice if he could have gotten at least a phone number out of last night’s bed partner. They certainly had been physically compatible. Trying not to feel too put out, he puts on the rest of his clothing. As he double checks that he has everything, Inuyasha notices something bright yellow half hidden under the bed.

He bends down, and finds what appear to be a pair of bright yellow goggles. Closer inspection shows that they’re clearly expensive and heavily used hero equipment. A fanged smirk slowly stretches across his lips. After all, he couldn’t let the grumpy kitty cat escape without his things, could he? Returning it would simply be the responsible thing to do. With a feral grin in place, Inuyasha tucked the goggles into his jacket pocket and whistled as he made his way out the door.

#i’m so sorry #aizawa shouta #inuyasha #crack ship #crack treated seriously #Aizawa x inuyasha

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 27: The Vortex Butterfly

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

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

Chapter summary: The final battle against the Daleks is coming to an end and with it comes the Vortex Butterfly. People are lost and those remaining are still fractured. When it's all over, Renata and the Doctor must decide what to do with themselves.

As soon as the new Doctor had figured out what the Daleks planned to do, he set to work with the tools he had in the TARDIS. He'd been working fairly fast considering the enormous pressure there was to get things right and working.

"Doctor - or whatever you name is - what are you doing!?" Gabby was so tired of watching the man circle the console without uttering a word to her or Donna. For all they knew, he could be making a toaster.

"This is our only hope!" the Doctor promised her and made a nod at his device that was coming together. "A Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyser."

"Yeah, Earth-girls remember?" Donna nearly tapped the side of his head to make a point.

"Davros said he built those Daleks out of himself. His genetic code runs through the entire race. If I can use this to lock the Crucible's transmission onto Davros himself…"

"It destroys the Daleks?"

"Biggest backfire in history," the Doctor grinned mischievously.

"That's great," Gabby was truly grinning from ear to ear, but she raised her glowing purple hands to bring up another matter they hadn't truly solved yet. "Now what do I do about this!?"

The Doctor wearily eyed her hands. "Keep 'em...away…"

Gabby wasn't remotely amused. "Am I going to die like Renata? Is that what this is? You said I'm the Cosmic Butterfly and that Renata is the Vortex Butterfly, but what does that mean really? What can I do with this? Will it kill me?"

"I don't - I don't know the implications it'll have on your biology," the Doctor admitted. "But right now it might be a really good weapon against the Daleks." Gabby wasn't really sure how to feel about being a 'weapon' against alien threats. "And as for Renata? The energy inside her is far too strong, it could be killing her as we speak."

Gabby gulped and glanced at Donna. What could either of them do from where they were? Gabby didn't know the answer but she knew that she had to do something to save her. Ever since they met, Renata had done nothing but try to keep Gabby safe. Even when things were terrible, Renata always strove to keep Gabby out of harm's way. Gabby couldn't - and wouldn't - let that happen. She had the power in her fingertips to stop it, to at least help. She didn't care if it would contaminate her too or if it would kill her. The Doctor may be right in that she was a weapon they could use against the Daleks.

"What do I need to do?"

The Doctor eyed her for a second, deciding whether or not she was being honest and if she could actually do it. She gave a nod as if she'd read his mind.

"You draw your power - so they say - from your emotions, from what you feel. Take all of that and focus it on what you want to do."

Gabby nodded fast, her eyes wandering around the room. Right now all she could think of was Renata and the Doctor. They were both in such terrible danger and even then Renata was getting the worst of it. Her energy was swallowing her whole and just the thought of Renata dying terrified Gabby - she felt her world would crumble.

Flames began to rise from her fingers and when she noticed it, she knew exactly what to do.

~ 0 ~

Renata had gained a better sense of balance again, but it didn't stop the deep fatigueness she felt. Her energy - the vortex, apparently - had stopped randomly bursting from her but every now and then it would still burst. Even if they weren't strong explosions, she could still feel it bubbling inside her.

She touched the prison wall around her and watched its ripples mix with her golden energy. "Maybe...this isn't all bad," she whispered so that the Doctor could hear. "What if I use this - whatever it is - to our advantage?"

"Don't do anything, I'm begging you," the Doctor was so tired of asking her the same thing. He was afraid that each time the energy burst from her, it would be the last one she would be able to endure. "Just...just sit." Renata shook her head but before she could verbally refuse, they heard a familiar voice coming through a comms in the room.

"This is Martha Jones representing the Unified Intelligence Taskforce on behalf of the Human Race. Can you hear me?"

Renata stumbled forwards, her face hitting the wall not so kindly. "Martha! Is that really Martha!?"

Martha Jones finally came to appear in a screen for them. "This message is for the Dalek Crucible. Repeat: can you hear me?"

"Martha?" the Doctor could smile enough to see she was alright and unharmed, so far.

"It begins as Dalek Caan foretold," Davros announced, but neither the Doctor nor Renata paid him attention.

"The Children of Time will gather... and one of them will die!"

"Would you stop saying that! Put me through!" ordered the Doctor.

The communication became a two-way and Martha seemed relieved to see them again, although she immediately got concerned over Renata's frail appearance. She paid very bit of her attention to Rose, considering her priorities. "Ren? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, just get to the point," Renata made a gesture as best as possible.

"State your intent," Davros commanded Martha and Martha was happy to do so.

Martha raised her hand to show she held a strange key. "I've got the Osterhagen Key. Leave this planet and its people alone, or I'll use it."

"Osterhagen what? What's an Osterhagen Key?" the Doctor inquired, a bit offended that he had no idea what the thing was when UNIT created it. They were supposed to inform him every now and then.

"There's a chain of twenty-five nuclear warheads placed in strategic points beneath the Earth's crust. If I use the key, they detonate and the Earth gets ripped apart."

The noise that came out of Renata was piercing. She was appalled at such a creation. "What do you mean!? Martha Jones! Are you insane?!"

Martha was in a visible struggle with her duty and her morals, but she didn't stop until she got everything out that she needed to say. "The Osterhagen Key is to be used if the suffering of the Human Race is so great, so without hope... that this becomes the final option."

"That's never an option!" yelled the Doctor.

"Don't argue with me, Doctor," Martha snapped, further surprising him. "Cos there's more than that. Now, I reckon the Daleks need these twenty-seven planets for something, but what if it becomes twenty-six? What happens then? Daleks? Would you risk it?"

Rose had to admit where she saw a good job, because not just anyone could threaten the Daleks with such good content. "She's good." Of course neither the Doctor nor Renata would agree with her.

"Who's that?" Martha finally gave Rose the decent attention to be interested in her.

"My name's Rose. Rose Tyler."

Martha froze but her eyes immediately found Renata's. The Time Lady gave a confirming nod, but she made it clear that she was just fine with it.

Suddenly, the screen divided itself into two squares. Jack's face flashes next to Martha's and he was holding a peculiar necklace in hand. Sarah Jane, Jackie Tyler, and Mickey Smith were right behind him.

"Captain Jack Harkness calling all Dalek boys and girls!" Jack exclaimed rather loudly with a grin that promised greatness. "Are you receiving me? Don't send in your goons or I'll set this thing off."

Now it was Rose's turn to nearly fall over. "He's still alive!?" she squinted her eyes though when she saw Jackie behind him. "Oh, my God, that's- that's my mum!"

"And Mickey," the Doctor added. "Captain, what are you doing?"

"I've got a Warp Star wired into the mainframe. I break the shell... the entire Crucible goes up."

The Doctor looked between Martha and Jack - and those behind Jack - as if they'd all gone mad, and perhaps they had. "You can't! Where did you get a Warp Star?!"

"Wrong question," Renata shook her. "I can't believe they have the courage to do that - wrong courage, but...courage nonetheless." Although it honestly startled her that these humans had the boldness to do what not everyone could.

"It's mine, Doctor," Sarah Jane spoke up. "We had no choice, we saw what happened to the prisoners."

"Impossible. That face... after all these years…" Davros seemed truly surprised to see Sarah Jane on the screen.

Sarah Jane couldn't say the same. Her eyes narrowed on the man - creature - and a cold glare took her over. "That's been quite a while. Sarah Jane Smith. Remember?"

"Oh, this is meant to be. The Circle of Time is closing!" Davros exclaimed. "You were there on Skaro at the very beginning of my creation."

"And I've learned how to fight since then. You let the Doctor go or this Warp Star - it gets opened!"

"I'll do it," Jack raised the Warp Star a bit more and tweaked it to prepare it. "Don't imagine I wouldn't."

"Now, that's what I call a ransom," Rose chuckled, feeling just a bit more on the optimistic side. The Daleks wouldn't let their precious plan fall to bits if they could help it.

"And the prophesy unfolds," Davros said, pulling Rose out of her thoughts to notice the Doctor's downcasted gaze.

"The Doctor's soul is revealed! See him! See the heart of him!" Dalek Caan cackled deliriously, taunting the silent Doctor.

"Oh shut it you tin can!" Renata unexpectedly snapped. She knew exactly what they were trying to do to the Doctor and even if she was trapped inside a prison cell, she wouldn't allow it.

"The man who abhors violence, never carrying a gun. But this is the truth, Doctor," Davros wheeled himself closer to the Doctor who refused to look up from the ground. "You take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons. Behold your Children of Time transformed into murderers. I made the Daleks, Doctor. You made this."

"What the - no!" Renata shouted again, more furious than before. "No one makes people into anything! You change them, yes, but their core remains the same."

The Doctor could appreciate her attempt to make him look better but he knew what he was, he always knew. Wherever he went, destruction followed. Even Renata herself had been caught in his trail. He gave her the worst ultimatum back on that horrible night before his wedding, and made her miserable for the rest of her lives. And after her...he couldn't even count the lives he'd destroyed because he turned them into people who didn't care for their own lives. They would use themselves as bait, go farther than they ever would because they met him.

It was all true.

And even if Renata tried to sweeten the darkness, he couldn't believe it. She shouldn't have to waste her breath - which was already numbered - on him. "Renata-"

"No!" she snapped at him without a single second of hesitation. "You are many things, Doctor, but I'm not letting these murderers bring you down with them! As if!" The golden Vortex began to dance around her body again, growing stronger the angrier she rambled on. "These humans-" she made a quick gesture to the screen where she had a good captive audience, "-are trying to save their world by any means necessary, even if it means destroying it! And yes, they are completely wrong!" She specifically looked up at the screens, making sure that each and every one of them looked her in her hard eyes. It was as if their mother was giving them a lecture, and it was a strange feeling for those who hadn't even met her. "But they made their choices! Not the Doctor!"

"Ren, calm down," Martha could see the light around her friend's body starting again.

"NO!" Renata frantically said. "And stop telling me to calm down! I'm not calming down! I've had it!"

"You make nice speeches, Time Lady-" Davros began but she wasn't quite finished yet.

"-my name-" she pounded a fist against her prison wall, "-is Renata! Learn it because as soon as I get out of here, I'm going to end you!"

"Renée, enough!" the Doctor turned to her. His anger had finally broken through his seal of silence but even though a part was directed at her, it wasn't for the same reason. He wouldn't let her further destroy her morals for him. Not her.

"There is no point in denying the truth," Davros insisted. "Already, I have seen them sacrifice today for their beloved Doctor. The Earth woman who fell opening the subwave network."

"Who was that?" the Doctor asked, momentarily curious of who else he could've destroyed that he wasn't remembering. That's how many...he couldn't even remember all of them!

"Harriet Jones," Rose answered quietly, closing her eyes when she remembered the terrible way Harriet had died after opening the Subway network for them. "She gave her life to get you here."

"How many more? Just think," Davros called to the Doctor again, nearing his prison hold. "How many have died in your name?"

"Doctor, don't," Renata knew that he was going to start thinking about the people he'd lost along the way. He just would. He was too guilty to ever forget them like that.

And as he realized before, the Doctor lost count along the way. He remembered many faces, each dying to save him and whoever else happened to be around. He always tried making the tough calls but someone always wanted to be brave - to prove themselves to him that they were just as brave as he was - and it always resulted in death. It followed him because that's who he was, that's who he was at his core. He could never stay still and people around him paid the price for it.

He barely held himself together once the weight of it truly fell over his shoulders, but the Daleks had won: they'd broken him. They made him face his reality and made him look at himself.

And Davros knew it too. "The Doctor... the man who keeps running, never looking back, because he dare not, out of shame. This is my final victory, Doctor. I have shown you... yourself."

"STOP!" Renata screamed and released the brightest energy she had yet to reveal. Her fists pounded endlessly against the prison walls, one after the other and stronger than the previous.

"Renata!" the Doctor swore he could see cuts against her fists from the constant hits against the wall, but she just wouldn't stop. "Renata!"

She cried and banged the walls with everything she had. The Vortex wouldn't fade this time either - it was actually cutting through the walls. The Daleks had prepared for the Doctor alright, but not the Vortex Butterfly.

"It's the Crucible... or the Earth!" Martha called when she felt it was the right time to really tighten the Daleks.

But the Daleks had other plans. They teleported Martha and Jack, along with everyone else who had tagged along. They all dropped into the Vault without their threatening weapons.

"Don't move!" the Doctor was quick to shout at them. "All of you, stay still!"

"But Renata!" Martha had gotten up from the floor fairly fast and ran towards her friend who was still crying against her cell.

"No, Martha!" the Doctor helplessly banged against his own prison hold to stop the woman.

Renata's cell cracked with the Vortex seeping through until it finally shattered. The force of it blew Martha back, throwing her body onto the floor. Renata's own body fell forwards after the blast. Jack only went to Martha because she was closest, but it didn't keep the Doctor from yelling for Renata to wake up. He crashed his body against his prison, much like Renata had, until his head got woozy from so many hits.

"Doctor, you have to stop that!" Rose called to him when he looked ready to pass out.

"You will all surrender," a Dalek warned the group as it and a few other Daleks came towards them.

Jack looked back at Sarah Jane, Mickey and Jackie, nodding for them to stay down. There was no winning now. Renata, however, slowly blinked awake. She scanned the area in her spot, without moving, and decided to wait for the right moment.

"The final prophecy is in place. The Doctor and his children all gathered as witnesses. Supreme Dalek... the time has come!" Davros' voice practically shook with excitement. "Now...Detonate the Reality Bomb!"

The knobs of the Reality Bomb started working again, giving the twenty seven planets their strong glow.

"Davros, you can't!" the Doctor crashed his body one more time against his prison hold. "Just listen to me! Just STOP!"

"Nothing can stop the detonation! Nothing! And no-one!"

Renata had barely flexed her left hand when she and the others began to hear a familiar, but completely impossible, wheezing noise. She'd been feeling so tired but now there was a small spot, somewhere inside, that felt a bit different. It was small but it sparked something...

The TARDIS appeared, looking as if nothing ever happened to it. It was the only thing that stopped the Doctor from repeatedly hurting himself against his prison. "But that's…"

"Impossible," Davros barely contained his shout.

The TARDIS settled into a nice spot and opened its doors, letting out a blinding light that could rival Renata's. The new Doctor bolted from the TARDIS with his device ready to go.

"What - don't!" the original Doctor cried despite not knowing - at that moment - how there was another copy of him.

Davros got over his shock and acted fast. With one pointed finger, he put a stop to the new Doctor's plan with a jet of electricity. He collapsed on the floor, not seriously injured but there would still be bruises.

"Activate holding cell," Davros instructed and a brand new prison hold appeared around the new man.

"Doctor!" Donna rushed out next and immediately saw the lost device on the floor. She snatched it before anything else could. "I've got it! But I don't know what to do!"

Donna became the next victim. The same electric jet of energy hit her and blew her against the TARDIS.

"Destroy the weapon!"

The Doctor called for Donna but there was no response from the woman, wherever it was she landed.

"Wait, how come there's two of you now?" Rose couldn't stop blinking. It was as if she was trying to see if blinking fast would erase the second DOctor.

"Human biological metacrisis. Never mind that, now we've got no way of stopping the Reality Bomb."

"Wouldn't say that." Gabby appeared out of the TARDIS with a strong purple glow around her and a pair of two swirling, purple butterfly wings behind her. She didn't take a second to think about the consequences, she just acted. She thrust her left hand forwards and shot directly at Davros. A streak of purple butterflies swarmed their way towards the man.

"Attack!" he cried before the butterflies could read him.

"NO!" the Doctor went into another state of panic. The Reality Bomb was back on and now they also had to watch Gabby die all over again?

Gabby brought her wings over her body as a shield - how that happened, she wouldn't be able to explain - but the same wings, only in purple, flapped in front of her. In her mind, there was only one thing: save her friends.

Renata was finally back and she had an icy cold glare on her face, despite the warmth she felt from the Vortex emanating around her. "Not her!" her voice would make anyone wince, and it did. "You-" her wings flapped to create a force of wind laced with golden energy, "-stay-" flap!, "-away-" another flap, "-from her!" Golden swirls fired from her wings and hit the incoming Daleks.

"Detonation in twenty rels! Nineteen…" the Supreme Dalek's voice began to echo through all the rooms in the Crucible.

"Renata!" the Doctor vainlessly called for her. He was terribly scared for her and for the planets. He didn't know whether or not to be ashamed of the fact he couldn't decide which scared him more. "Renata, stop!"

But Renata, whether she heard him or not, thrust one hand after the other and split as many Daleks as she could. Gabby followed in her footsteps and cut through the Daleks that would near her. The Vortex Butterfly had come to life and was going to do whatever it took to keep her loved ones safe. Beautiful golden flames surrounded around her, contrasting the darkness she felt inside her knowing the battle that was upon them. She led the Cosmic Butterfly, her faithful companion, into the land of battle. One powered by the Vortex and the other by cosmic energy, the Daleks would never stand a chance.

"Exterminate!" Renata could hear dozens of them but she felt an incredible surge of power that she wanted to take full advantage of.

"Nine... eight... seven... six…"

Donna blinked awake and, like Gabby and Renata, she immediately knew there was something different about her. A heavy load of power dropped on her, but not in the same way as it had on Renata and Gabby.

"What is going on!?" Martha breathed in at the sight of her best friend taking down Daleks like there was no tomorrow while doing it with butterfly wings.

"The Vortex Butterfly and the Cosmic Butterfly are born," Dalek Caan laughed loudly enough to go over the streaks of energy. "But can they survive?"

"Shut up!" the Doctor practically bellowed at the deranged Dalek.

"Five... four... three... two... one.."

The entire group waited, even both Renata and Gabby had finally stopped once the Daleks in the Vault were dead, to see the end of all creation. They were mighty confused when nothing of the sort happened.

"Oh... closing all Z-Neutrino relay loops using an internalised synchronous back-feed reversal loop!" Donna triumphantly, and rather confidently, flicked a switch from a control panel. "That button there!"

"Donna, you can't even change a plug!" the Doctor didn't know what was going on but he couldn't stop smiling. She looked absolutely at home working the controls.

Donna winked at him. "Do you wanna bet, Time Boy?"

"You will suffer for this!" Davros warned her, but Donna scoffed.

"Sure!" she went for another switch on the control panel and electrocuted Davros. "Oh...! Bioelectric dampening field with a retrogressive arc inversion."

"Alright Donna!" Rose laughed.

The Vault opened its doors to let more Daleks in. Renata raised her hands, taking aim, and prompted Gabby to do the same.

"Bring it," Gabby flexed her fingers. The energy around her was amazing. She wasn't in pain and even though she couldn't control it all so well, she just knew that this could be used for good, not murdering as the new Doctor had said. Plus, she was thinking differently too and she didn't know what that meant! It was as if her brain had opened to new ideas, to new possibilities - different angles to look from!

"I got it, ladies!" Donna called from her spot and somehow powered down the Daleks' blaster-guns. "Weapons non-functional!" She smirked at everyone's confused stares. "What? Macrotransmission of a K-filter wavelength blocking Dalek weaponry in a self-replicating energy blindfold matrix?"

The Doctor's mouth had fallen open in honest, thorough, shock. "How did you work that out? You…"

"Time Lord. Part Time Lord," the new Doctor said a d for a brief moment they shared a silent, knowing look between them.

Donna didn't notice it. Why would she? She was having the time of her life saving the world - worlds! "Part Human! Oh, yes! That was a two-way biological metacrisis. Half Doctor... half Donna!"

"The Doctor-Donna…" Renata realized, thinking back to the Old planet they visited a while ago. "It was just like the Ood said." She turned her head at the Doctor, her Doctor. "It came true." He knew what she was trying to say: if they got that bit right then her prediction was going to come true as well.

He shook his head. Never.

"Holding cells deactivated!" Donna cheered for herself as the holding cells disappeared.

As soon as he was free, the Doctor dashed for Renata. He was about to hold her - or attempt to hug, whichever one felt better - when her wings flapped menacingly.

"Don't touch me," she warned him.

"Ren-"

"-the job is not done. More are coming," Renata turned away from him, head tilting towards the closed doors at the end.

"Ren?" Martha was back on her feet thanks to Jack. She cautiously approached Renata but the Doctor barred her from getting too close. There was something else in Renata's face that he couldn't figure out yet. "Renata? It's me, Martha. I-I can't say I understand very well what all that-" she made a gesture at Renata's wings, "-is but you're not okay. You must be exhausted. You should let me take you into the TARDIS."

"No," Renata said flatly. "I want to put an end to them, all of them."

Gabby wobbled on her feet, for the first time feeling a bit weak from the energy she'd suddenly garnered. "Maybe...it wouldn't be a bad idea…"

"Oi! Doctor!" Donna called to the original from the control panel. "Could use some help!" She already had the metacrisis Doctor with her, but a third set of hands would end things much quicker.

"Stop them!" Davros ordered the remaining Daleks inside.

Donna had other ideas. She clicked a button on the panel. "And spin!"

The Daleks advance.

Renata turned her head at the spinning Daleks, revealing a fury she'd been hiding. The energy was making her let it go. "No spin, just die!" she screamed and fired upon the closest, spinning Daleks.

"Renata!" Martha tried reaching for her but the Doctor was faster and yanked them both back.

"You can't touch her! That's the Time Vortex around her!" he nodded to the dancing, golden flames around Renata's body.

Renata desisted with the measly Daleks spinning around them. She set eyes on the biggest threat of them all: Davros. She stalked towards him, leaving her footprints in Vortex power on the floor. "YOU!"

Martha didn't waste time and shoved the Doctor after her. "Stop her before she gets killed!"

The Doctor quickly glanced at Donna and saw she was busily working with his metacrisis copy then glanced at the others to see them coming out with their own weapons against the Daleks. Gabby was the only one unattended, but Martha practically read his thoughts.

"I've got her!" she rushed for Gabby but remembered she couldn't touch her. Although the more Martha studied the girl, the quicker she realized Gabby's power wasn't as strong as Renata's. Her purple glow came and went, almost as if it were trying to face but Gabby was clinging to it. "Gabby? Gabby, you need to put that energy away!"

"I can't!" Gabby clutched her head. "I-I thought this new mind was great but now I feel like a computer that's overloading. The power... it's a lot."

Martha could only imagine. "Listen, you just have to stop-"

"-I can't! I need to help Renata! It's beyond me, it's an instinct!"

"You're connected," Martha blinked and quickly glanced at Renata. Renata was hell bent on getting Daleks, and now Davros, and it seemed she had a pull on Gabby too. The butterflies were connected in some way.

Near the TARDIS, Jack had gone in to collect his and Rose's guns in case they ended up needing them when they escaped. The others, including Rose, took to pushing away any spinning Daleks that managed to get too close to Donna and the TARDIS. Donna had the metacrisis Doctor working like mad to get all the planets home.

"Activate magnetron!" she ordered.

"Stop it at once!" Davros attempted to go for Donna when Renata struck just in front of him.

She moved to stand right in front with one hand extended forwards, bathed in Vortex energy that was waiting to be released. "You stay right where you are."

"The Vortex Butterfly will murder on her first day?" Davros seemed more bemused than afraid.

"I'd be doing the world a favor," Renata balled her fist, finally letting the rage out that she'd bottled up for years. "No one would miss you."

The Doctor was horrified to hear that logic and much more that it was coming from Renata. He was helpless as he looked between her, Gabby and Donna working madly to get the planets back in place. All three of his companions were changed because of him. He'd ruined them just like everyone before them. And it broke his hearts all over again. They were weapons, just like the Daleks told him. It was his curse and they had to live with it while he could only watch.

Not Renata. He couldn't bear watching her betray her own morals. She was always so sweet, so protective, even when she harbored deep secrets it never changed who she was at her core. "Renée! You can't do this!"

There was a sour smile on Renata's face. "Why not? Really, Doctor, who would give a damn? They're the ones who ruined our world. They murdered everyone. But now I have the power to end them, to pay them back with the same coin."

"Renata, I know where you're coming from. I've been there," the Doctor promised her. He thought of the first Dalek he met right after the Time War. The first Dalek that might have changed. In that time he could care less if it was a safe Dalek, if it had become best friends with Rose and gotten a new perspective on life. He wanted to see it dead, just like all the other Daleks. But Rose reminded him that even though everything was gone, he was still there and deserved a chance to live.

"Renata, you always said that you wanted to go home, that-that you would do anything to go home…" he started again but it was difficult to get out when he could see how each word of his punctured Renata's hearts. "But this isn't it. This won't get you home and it won't bring home back. Renata I'm sorry but... it's gone." Renata's face scrunched harder the more he drilled it into her head, drilled reality into her head. "Gallifrey is dead and going on a murder spree won't do anything to change that. But listen, you have people here too. You have Martha, you have Donna, you have me and you have a young girl who looks up to you. And right now, she's in pain because she's trying to help you."

Renata blinked, for a second coming out of her dark moment, and slightly glanced in the Doctor's way. He was desperately trying to show her a struggling Gabby who was barely able to stay on her feet. Martha and Mickey were trying to bring her towards the TARDIS but the girl refused, saying things about helping her.

"You see?" the Doctor caught onto her temporary moment of lucidness to finish making his point. "I think you're temporary connected and she feels like she has to help you."

Renata returned her attention to her threatening hand. Davros wasn't close to her anymore but all it took was one shot, one shot, and it would be enough to end him.

"It breaks my hearts that I can't bring your family back. Because I would, if there was any way that I could I really would." The Doctor tried stepping closing to her, hoping that he was getting through to her once and for all. "They're gone. Everyone's gone."

Renata started to shake and sniff until it turned into gentle a cry. The golden energy around her body died within seconds. She lowered her threatening hand and brought it against her mouth to cover her sobs. "Oh God, what am I doing?"

When the Doctor knew it was safe, he pulled her into a hug and let her shake and sob for a few minutes. She needed it.

By the control panel, Donna and the metacrisis Doctor were almost done working.

"We got it, Doctor! Ha!" Donna laughed as she watched each planet return to their rightful place.

Rose and Jack came by to see their progress, though Rose's gaze often fell on the original Doctor with Renata.

"Is anyone gonna tell us what's going on?" Jack asked them.

"The Doctor - the original - poured all his regeneration energy into his spare hand," Donna explained rather fast, sounding a lot like the Doctor, "I touched the hand and he-" she nodded to the metacrisis Doctor, "-grew out of that, but that fed back into me. But, it just stayed dormant in my head 'til the synapses got that little extra spark, kicking them into life. Thank you, Davros! Part Human...part Time Lord. And I got the best bit of the Doctor. I got his mind!"

"So there's three of you?" Sarah Jane wandered over at the explanation.

Even Rose was wearing the same face of surprise. "Three Doctors?"

"I can't tell you what I'm thinking right now!" Jack looked away for the same reason. It was then that he saw the original Doctor and Renata finally making their way to them. "Doc! Donna just explained how there's three of you now!"

"Great," the Doctor was walking slowly with Renata. He checked behind him to see Martha and Mickey were able to bring Gabby along.

"Donna, you were so unique that the timelines were converging on you," Renata managed to smile, though it was a tired one. "Human Being with a Time Lord brain."

"Very special," Gabby added. She was looking better too now that her link with Renata was lowering because the Time Lady's murderous endeavors stopped.

"But you promised me, Dalek Caan. Why did you not forsee this?" Davros turned his chair to Dalek Caan in new flourished anger.

Dalek Caan giggled knowingly.

"Oh, I think he did," the Doctor said when he figured it out. "Something's been manipulating the timelines for ages... getting Donna Noble to the right place at the right time."

"This would always have happened. I only helped, Doctor."

Davros didn't want to believe that his entire plan had failed and much more that it was always going to fail. "You...betrayed the Daleks?"

"I saw the Daleks. What we have done throughout time and space. I saw the truth of us, Creator, and I decreed 'no more'."

"Dalek...on our side?" Renata would act more surprised if her facial features would allow it.

"Heads up!" Jack called when he saw the Vault doors opening up.

The Supreme Dalek had descended to the room. "Davros, you have betrayed us."

"It was Dalek Caan!"

"The Vault will be purged! You will all be exterminated!" the Supreme Dalek sent a death ray towards a central column, causing sparks to fly.

Jack had another thing to say. "Like I was saying, feel this!" He blasted the Dalek to smithereens with his large gun.

"No!" the metacrisis Doctor exclaimed when he saw the central column had been destroyed with the Supreme Dalek's ray. "We've lost the magnatron! And there's only one planet left!"

"And let me guess," the original Doctor began, "It's Earth?" both the metacrisis Doctor and Donna nodded their heads. "We can use the TARDIS. I'll do it." He brought Renata into the TARDIS and Martha and Mickey came in shortly afterwards with Gabby. "Renée, don't move! Got it?"

Renata had been sat in the Captain's chair and this time she didn't argue with him. She nodded her head instead. "I think the Butterfly is done."

The Doctor cocked his head to the side, disliking her choice of words but time was short. He ran to Gabby next. "Gabby? How we doin'?"

"Better, thanks," she smiled much more easily than Renata. "I think...I think I got a little less than Ren. I-I touched Donna when she touched your, uh, your hand…"

The Doctor paused to think about it for a second. "You must have activated your power via the metacrisis, but you didn't intake the same amount of Donna. It kitck-started the dormant energy of the Block Matrix from Zhe's gallery."

"But why am I not affected like Renata?"

"Renata's mutation was kick-started by Dorothy Bell and her Osiran powers. Plus, every Time Lord carries a bit of the Time Vortex inside them, you don't. You're human. You just have the Block Transfer connection."

"Oh, is that it?" Gabby sarcastically quipped.

"But you'll be fine - you and Renata will both be fine," the Doctor promised then ran for the console. He would get them sorted once they finished sorting this first. Everything would be just fine, just fine, because-

There was a strange commotion coming from the outside, it sounded like screaming. He hurried back outside and saw the shrieking, exploding Daleks from the screen Davros originally had for them.

"What've you done?!" he shouted in horror at his counterpart.

The new Doctor didn't seem that perturbed with the fact he had just slaughtered millions of Daleks in one go. "Fulfilling the prophecy." There was a wildness in his eyes that genuinely scared the original Doctor. "Do you know what you've done? Now, get in the TARDIS!" he roared and pointed the man for the blue box.

The metacrisis Doctor did so but he knew there was nothing more to do. It was already done. The Crucible would explode in minutes.

"Everyone! All of you inside, run! In, in, in, in, in!" the Doctor hurried along the remaining companions into the TARDIS. The Vault went up in flames but despite that, the Doctor knew Davros was still around. If he didn't come, he'd explode as well. "Davros? Come with me! I promise I can save you!"

"Never forget, Doctor - you did this!" Davros voice echoed through the room. "I name you, forever, you are the Destroyer of Worlds!"

The Doctor stayed in his spot for a minute, frozen as he concluded that everything was right. He was a destroyer.

"Doctor!" someone called to him from inside the TARDIS. It snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him right in.

The console was actually crowded - a strange sight for someone who usually travelled alone or at least light - with all his companions trying to gather sense of what they'd just gone through.

"And! Off we go!" he went for the console, starting the TARDIS up. Soon as he did, the group rocked to a side.

"But what about the Earth? It's stuck in the wrong part of space!" Sarah Jane said as if anyone would forget that small detail.

"I'm on it!" the Doctor promised as he worked the console. He got in contact with Torchwood as fast as he could. "I want you to open up that Rift Manipulator - send all the power to me!"

Afterwards, he called up Sarah Jane so that they could get in contact with her son, Luke, and her advanced computer Mr. Smith. He gave them another instruction and once it was set in motion, he rushed around giving each of his companions a control to work on the console. It would be a many-people drive!

Renata could see everybody crowded over the console with the same gleeful smiles on their faces. Her hearts warmed at the sight of all those people who were able to gather together because of the Doctor. She only knew two of them but she only needed to know the Doctor to know that every single one of them were amazing. She closed her eyes and took in a quiet breath. It almost looked like she was taking in her last breath, which was immediately pulled the Doctor towards her.

"Renata!" he scurried up to her seat with such a pale face that Renata would've laughed if she could.

"I'm okay," she said in a frail voice. "I'm just...so tired."

"I know, I know, I'm going to bring you to the medbay and-and we'll do all the testing and-"

Renata brought a hand up to his mouth, quieting him down in a second. Her kind, tired eyes told him she'd already made a decision. "I think I know where I need to go."

The Doctor was puzzled with her. Where could she want to go that wasn't the TARDIS? It hurt just to imagine her not around.

She seemed to have read his mind, or at least part of it anyways. She drew her hand away from his mouth and smiled rather sadly. "You'll be fine. You'll have someone back." Her eyes flickered past him so he followed it to Rose.

He wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

~ 0 ~

Landing back on Earth - that'd been brought back to its rightful spot - felt like a dream for the humans. Sarah Jane couldn't wait and ran out first. She laughed at such normality of the park they were in. It didn't even look like there'd been a massive Dalek invasion 10 minutes ago.

The Doctor came peeking out a few seconds later, but not without Gabby shoving him to the side afterwards.

"We're back on Earth! We're back!" she cheered excitedly. Sarah Jane and the Doctor shared a small laugh as the girl spun around.

"Looks like your doing a lot better," the Doctor noted with a relieved smile.

Gabby was about to nod when a spree of purple butterflies sprang from the top of her head. It made her freeze mid-spin with wide eyes.

Once more, there was a small laughter between the two on-lookers.

"We'll need to work on that," the Doctor said.

Gabby decided to start laying low for now and returned to them. "I...did not mean to do that."

"I still don't understand that," Sarah Jane chuckled behind a hand. "But I imagine this will not be the last time we see each other." She glanced at the Doctor with a biggened smile. "You know... you act like such a lonely man. But look at you! You've got the biggest family on Earth! And you even managed to find yourself another Time Lord - lady. I'm so happy for you." She hugged him and missed the sad smile on the Doctor's face. "Gotta go now!" she pulled away with new excitement. "He's only fourteen! It's a long story. And thank you!"

"I like her," Gabby announced when Sarah Jane ran off.

"Yeah…"

Gabby brought a hand to her chest suddenly, making a face like something was bothering her. When the Doctor noticed it, she explained, "It's really weird. I go back and forth with this. One moment I'm okay and then the next I feel so heavy, like-like I just have to release, you know?"

"Like Renata," the Doctor nodded quietly. He presumed it was the same situation as Renata, only Gabby's energy amount was less than what Renata had.

"I-I should go see how she's doing," Gabby said after she'd managed to get through her small moment. She walked into the TARDIS at the same time both Mickey and Jack emerged.

"Ren, you should sit," Martha was in the middle of saying when Gabby joined them.

"I'm not a baby, Martha Jones. I'm quite older than you," Renata spoke ever-so-calmly and - Gabby had no idea how in such a bad moment - gracefully too. Renata had finally gotten up from her chair and was attempting to walk a couple steps.

Martha rolled her eyes and followed after Renata, arms ready to catch her in case she fell. "You just expelled some weird butterfly powers."

"Time Vortex, thank you very much," Renata turned around slowly to face Martha.

"How did that even happen?"

"A series of events, I'm afraid. We visited an art gallery that used a Quantum Sphere for Block Transfer Computation and infected me and Gabby."

Martha blinked and quickly looked at Gabby, but the girl raised her hands. "I didn't get the worst," she said and Martha sighed. That much she could tell.

"I was further infected - contaminated - by a different alien race, the Osirans," Renata went on. "And my body just never healed."

"And she wouldn't let the Doctor keep running tests on her," Donna came over with a long gaze on Renata.

"Surprise, surprise," Martha folded her arms and gave her best friend a disapproving look.

"Oh don't start, none of you," Renata pointed a finger at each and every one of them. "I don't want to hear it."

"Ren, will you be okay?" Martha's question did make Renata stop just as she was continuing to walk. "Like...like will you…?"

Renata turned back again and softened at Martha's concern. "I don't know," Renata admitted. She didn't want to lie to Martha. "But I need to go somewhere to figure out what I want."

Martha's stomach churned because , knowing Renata, knowing what had just happened, there was no telling what Renata would 'want'. Without saying a word, she walked up to Renata and hugged her really tight. She didn't say it but Renata knew. Just in case...Martha wanted to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry for how we got to know each other," Martha pulled away with a teary face. "I'm sorry I read your diary-"

"-forget about it," Renata nodded. "I burned that thing a long time ago. You were right. I couldn't live in the past. Elek is gone…" she exhaled a shaky breath, "The Assessor is gone, my family...everyone's gone. Maybe living in the past is the reason why I've never been happy." It was why she would rather end things now then keep living like that. She just didn't know how to do either.

"I know you can be happy," Martha smiled her best one. "You have to want it." And that was the thing: Renata didn't know what she wanted.

"See you around, Martha," Renata smiled warmly.

"...yeah," Martha knew that was still up in the air. Still, there was nothing left to do but leave.

"Martha," Renata called just as the woman reached the door, "If you could do one thing for me...get rid of that Osterhagen key, please? I understand why the humans would create something like but it would just break the Doctor's hearts if it continued to exist. Do that for him, will you?"

Martha knew that by extension, she'd be doing Renata her last wish too. "Of course," she promised and walked out.

"Uh, Renata?" Rose gently called to the Time Lady after Martha left.

Renata saw the woman was a bit feeble, almost afraid. Still, Renata felt like whatever Rose was going to say, it would be better if the Doctor was there too. She had a hunch about what it was and Renata didn't want Rose to have to repeat herself.

"Let's just wait a moment, okay?"

Rose nodded but she was biting her lower lip nervously. She needed to get something off her chest now.

~0~

Bad Wolf Bay.

The next stop for the TARDIS was a breezy, cloudy beach.

Jackie was disgusted of the place as soon as she recognized it. "Ugh, fat lot of good this is! Back of beyond, bloody Norway! I'm gonna have to phone your father. He's on the nursery run."

"You have a baby?" Gabby had come out after her and the metacrisis Doctor.

Jackie nodded proudly. "Had a baby boy!"

"Ah, brilliant! What did you call him?" the metacrisis Doctor asked.

"Doctor."

That made the man stop in his Sandy tracks. "...really?"

"No, you plum. He's called Tony!"

Gabby laughed while the Doctor frowned. Jackie Tyler was too funny!

As soon as Rose stepped into the familiar beach, she was puzzled. She didn't understand what she was doing there again. "Hold on, this is the parallel universe, right?" she asked just as the rest followed out of the TARDIS.

"You're back home," the original Doctor said.

"And the walls of the world are closing again...now that the Reality Bomb never happened. It's dimension retroclosure." Donna smiled proudly of herself. "See, I really get that stuff now."

Rose didn't understand - well, she might. Her teary eyes flickered between the Doctor and Renata. "Is this my punishment? For letting the Daleks through the cracks?"

"Of course not," Renata said softly. She was honestly surprised just like Rose. She didn't think the Doctor would actually choose to bring Rose back to her own world, but once Renata figured out the extent of his plans...she couldn't say that she disagreed. "And I'm sorry I put that idea into your head. This was not your fault, Rose. You had a good heart and the Daleks took advantage of that. This is not a punishment."

"Never," the Doctor agreed. "I would never do that to you.

"But you still want me to stay here! After all that time I spent trying to find you! I'm not going back now!" Rose was in full blown tears that were a mix of frustration and confusion.

The Doctor stepped towards her, hoping to catch her down so she could truly listen to what he needed from her. She always listened, after all. She was very good at that. And it did him so well. That's why only she could do what he needed her to do. "But you've got to. Because we saved the universe, but at a cost. And the cost is him." Offence slipped out of the metacrisis Doctor as soon as the gazes turned on him. "He destroyed the Daleks. He committed genocide. He's too dangerous to be left on his own."

"You made me!"

"Exactly, you were born in battle - full of blood and anger and revenge." The original Doctor turned his attention back to Rose. "Remind you of someone?" Rose would not entertain that answer.

"Yeah, her!" the metacrisis Doctor spat and pointed at Renata. The Time Lady was shocked but, after a few seconds she realized he was absolutely right.

"No, leave her alone!" the original Doctor snapped so aggressively that, without his notice, Rose came to her own conclusions.

"He's right," Renata put a hand on the Doctor's arm, calming him. "I murdered Daleks and I would've nearly had Davros if you hadn't stopped me." She swallowed hard and withdrew her hand from his arm. "I always said I was a terrible person. This just solidifies it."

"Absolutely not," the original Doctor insisted that they were both wrong. "You were on your own for 56 years after the Time War. You never got the chance to heal...not like I had someone." He looked at Rose with a new sense of urgent plead. The blonde had cleaned up her tears but others were still pooling in her eyes. "She and him are me when we first met and you, Rose, made me better. Now you can do the same for him."

"And you for her," Rose whispered, eyes catching Renata's shameful lowering gaze. She could understand that, but it didn't mean she was happy about it, not when she realized the truth. It was the truth she'd been blinding herself to ever since she got to their world. The gentle touches, the ferocity to protect each other, the whispers between them…

"You love her," she whispered, crestfallen.

Both the Doctor and Renata froze. They wouldn't look at each other but neither could say that their hearts hadn't stopped for a second.

"Rose, I need you to do this for me," the Doctor said, going on as if nothing had been said. "You're the only one I trust."

Rose wasn't shaking her head, but she couldn't nod either. "He's not you."

"He needs you. That's very me."

"If I may?" Donna cleared her throat and raised a finger. "He's trying to give you something as well. Because you're right, these two-" she spared the Doctor and Renata a soft smile, "-have something complicated but something nonetheless, whether they want to admit or not." The pair's flushed faces confirmed each of Donna's words. "But him…" Donna nodded over to the metacrisis Doctor, "He's from before - the hand? - he's from your time."

Rose side-glanced the metacrisis Doctor, looking him over to see if Donna was telling the truth.

"I look like him and I think like him... same memories, same thoughts, same everything," the metacrisis Doctor stepped towards her. "All from our time together. The only difference is that I've only got one heart."

Rose seemed to stumble back a few steps. "Which means?"

"I'm part Human. Specifically the aging part. I'll grow old and never regenerate. I've only got one life...Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you. If you want."

"You'll grow- grow old at the same time as me?"

"Together."

Rose placed a hand to his chest to confirm what he was saying. One heart.

She glanced back at Renata and the Doctor.

"One of us should be happy," Renata smiled lightly, albeit a bit sad herself.

The TARDIS made an odd noise, pulling everyone's attention for a moment. Time was running out.

"We've gotta go. This reality's sealing itself off," the Doctor said. Renata nodded in agreement. "Forever."

"But it's still not right," Rose wanted to insist but there was something inside her telling her that this was already over. It just hurt to accept it.

"I think we should say one more thing," Renata stopped the Doctor beside her from turning away. "Thank you. Doctor, did you ever say that to her? Because she did a wonder on you."

The Doctor couldn't help playfully roll her eyes, even Rose was smiling just a tiny bit.

Renata drew in another shaky breath. "You have a healing ability, Rose, that no one else has. I would've liked that for me after I got out of the Time War. He's right," she crossed gazes with the metacrisis Doctor, "I'm just as bad. And having both of us in the same world will do no one any good. But if he stays here, you can help him. And Rose, you can be happy. Happy...something not everyone can be. Take this opportunity and be happy."

Rose stared at Renata for what felt like the longest minute for the latter. She had tilted her head, truly studying the Time Lady. "You're not bad. You're just hurting." And as she said those words she realized that the two were right. She was like the Doctor and if that was true then so was the metacrisis Doctor. "And you need help…" she drew in a breath, letting reality finally come to them. "I understand. But I just...I just have to know one thing, just one. When I last stood on this beach on the worst day of my life... what was the last thing you said to me?"

The Doctor gave a small nod, but it was too hard to go back to that time full of pain. He didn't want to add on more, more heartbreak. "I think...I can let him answer that. After all, it was my answer too."

Renata tried turning for the TARDIS, but in doing so she nearly fell. The Doctor grabbed her by the waist and decided it was best to keep a hold around her. And he concluded that he would much rather hold her right now, making sure that she was okay. Still, he wanted to look back one more time at Rose for goodbyes. She seemed to know his intentions and gave a nod.

"Goodbye," she managed to say through tears.

"Goodbye," he returned. He gently pulled Renata towards the TARDIS and do Donna brought Gabby along as well.

Rose despondently watched the TARDIS disappear, that is...until she felt the metacrisis Doctor slip his hand through hers. He watched her with such fondness that, whether or not she wanted to, a smile worked its way across her face. She couldn't say that all was lost this time.

~0~

"There you go," the Doctor brought Renata straight for the Captain's chair again while Donna piloted the TARDIS (her skills were mighty better as well, it appeared). "Let's try to sit for a while, okay?"

"No," she said, already attempting to get back up. "I want to...be there…"she purposely looked past him to Donna.

He became silent. He knew what she meant.

"You know," Donna was saying to Gabby, "I thought we could try the planet Felspoon. After Renata is better of course. Just 'cos. What a good name, 'Felspoon', you know? Apparently it's got mountains that sway in the breeze. Mountains that move. Can you imagine?"

Gabby shook her head. "Nope! But I'd love to see! Actually, I'd like to stop by and see my family first. See how they're doing after all this.

"Oh yeah! Sure! Course we can do that!" Donna chuckled and moved the controls to get them to New York. "You know, Doctor, you could fix that chameleon circuit if you just try and hotbind in the fragment links and superseding the binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary..."

Gabby blinked in shock at the sudden repetition. She looked quickly to the Doctor and Renata but neither of them seemed that surprised, or worried. In fact, it almost seemed like they knew. But knew what?

"Binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary-" Donna sucked in a huge breath to stop herself. "I'm fine!" she laughed it off. "Nah, never-mind Felspoon. You know who I'd like to meet? Charlie Chaplin. I've heard he's great, Charlie Chaplin. Shall we do that? Shall we go and see Charlie Chaplin?" she grabbed the console phone, going fast for some reason. "Shall we? Charlie Chaplin? Charlie Chester, Charlie Brown. No, he's fiction, friction, fiction, fixen, mixen, rixten, brixton-" she doubled over in pain and so the Doctor hurried to help her.

"What's happening?" Gabby stared at Donna, full of concern. Donna was holding her head like something was throbbing.

"Donna, do you know what's happening?" Renata gently called. She was moving to stand up and since there was no point in arguing, Gabby decided to help her.

Donna looked at Renata then the Doctor, knowing exactly what they meant but she just didn't want to admit it.

"There's never been a Human-Time Lord metacrisis before now. And you know why," the Doctor hated to see Donna close to tears, especially when she'd been so ecstatic minutes ago.

"Because there can't be," Donna barely managed to say the words without crying. She gently moved away from the Doctor's hold, as if doing that made it not real. "I want to stay…"

Gabby's eyes widened. Why would Donna say something like that? Why wouldn't she able to stay?

"Donna, look at me," the Doctor said but she wouldn't. "Donna, look at me."

Donna finally looked at him but it was with a certain defiance in her eyes. "I was gonna be with you... forever."

"I know…"

"The rest of my life...travelling... in the TARDIS. The Doctor-Donna. With Renata, and Gabby…"

"Donna," Renata moved towards them with Gabby's help but the moment Donna realized what would come next she backtracked in horror.

"No. Oh, my God! I can't go back! Don't make me go back!"

Gabby blinked away tears at how terrified Donna was. She didn't understand a lot but she did know that Donna was nearing the end of her life in the TARDIS.

"Doctor... please. Please, don't make me go back!" Donna resorted to begging. She couldn't leave everything behind to be that simple, non-important Donna again.

The Doctor neared her whether she wanted him or not. "Donna. Oh, Donna Noble. I am so, so sorry. But we had the best of times. The best."

"No! No!"

"Donna, I'm sorry but thank you," Renata took her turn, feeling tears in her eyes as well. "Thank you so much."

"Donna I'm sorry, I'm…" Gabby couldn't put her words together, but she was sure that Donna knew what she wanted to say. She knew what they all wanted to say: goodbye.

No one was listening to her!

"I am entitled to my choice!" she cried.

"Donna if we don't you'll die!" the Doctor almost snapped. "And I have lost too many people to add you to the list. The world cannot live without Donna Noble. But I promise you, I swear, that things will not be the same. You will not forget that confidence. You will know your worth. Goodbye."

"No. No, please! Please! No, NO! No!" Donna's pleads were silenced the moment the Doctor put his fingers against her temples. Everything she lived went into rewind, all the way until the first moment she met the Doctor…

And it all disappeared.

~0~

With tears, the group brought Donna back home for the final time. They'd placed her in her room then went into the living room to explain to Wilf and Sylvia what happened to Donna.

"She took my mind into her own head. But that's a Time Lord consciousness," the Doctor was explaining. "All that knowledge - it was killing her."

"But she'll get better, now?" Wilf asked hopefully. He was relieved to see both the Doctor and Renata nod together.

"I had to wipe her mind, completely. Every trace of us or the TARDIS... everything we did together, anywhere we went... had to go," the Doctor said grimly.

"All those wonderful things she did…"

"I know. But that version of Donna is dead. Because if she remembers, just for a second, she'll burn up. You can never tell her. You can't mention us, or any of it... for the rest of her life."

Sylvia found it impossible. "But the whole world's talking about it. We traveled across space!"

"It'll just be a story. One of those Donna Noble stories, where she missed it all again," the Doctor managed to smile with nostalgia. Donna Noble, missing a story, would be the theme of her life.

"But she was better with you," Wild tried to argue when Sylvia cut in.

"Don't say that-"

"No, she was!"

"You should be proud of her, though," Renata spoke for the first time since arriving. Both Wilf and Sylvia had noticed the woman's pale complexion. "There are worlds out there, safe in the sky, because of her. There are people living in the light, singing songs of Donna Noble, a thousand million light-years away…and they will never forget her. While she can never remember." It wasn't the ending that Donna deserved at all. Just thinking about it brought fresh new tears to her eyes.

"And for one moment... one shining moment... she was the most important woman in the whole wide universe," the Doctor sighed lightly.

"She still is," Sylvia responded curtly. "She's my daughter."

"Well then maybe you should tell her that once in a while," Gabby quipped. She knew first-hand what it was like feeling worthless in the eyes of your family. She'd worked endlessly at her parent's restaurant and the laundromat, letting life slip away. But when her parents finally told her to do what she always wanted to do, just like she always dreamed of, it brought an indescribable feeling. Everyone needed that, to know they were worth something

Sylvia lowered her gaze and didn't say more. A few seconds later, they heard Donna coming down the stairs. The trio of travelers stiffened when she came in, completely oblivious to their presence.

"I was asleep, on my bed, in my clothes, like a flippin' kid!" she exclaimed with her phone in hand. "What did you let me do that for?!" It hurt more when she spared them the tiniest glances. They were no longer important to her. "Don't mind me. Donna."

"John Smith," the Doctor rose from the couch, prompting Renata and Gabby to do the same.

"Ren," Renata left it short just in case.

"Fernanda," Gabby said and earned herself a brief glance from Renata and the Doctor. Did she forget to mention to them that she had a middle name?

Donna shook each of their hands but almost out of sheer politeness.

"They were just leaving," Sylvia said, eyeing them with a 'you better do it' look.

"My phone's gone mad! Thirty-two texts, Veena's gone barmy, she's saying planets in the sky - what have I missed now?" Donna shouted and turned to leave, but not without a vague "Nice to meet you".

"Like I said, you should go," Sylvia sternly told the trio.

"We will," Renata stumbled to walk up to the woman and she swatted the Doctor's and Gabby's helping hands. "But you mark my words: you better not undo the confidence Donna has built up. The Doctor made sure to leave that part of her intact. Because Donna at least deserved that. She may not be able to see us but we will be keeping an eye on this house, on Donna and if I find out that you are belittling her again I will come straight for you!" Golden flames briefly sprouted from her body, finishing the job of terrifying Sylvia.

The Doctor gingerly brought her back beside him, but he silently applauded Renata. A good scare oughta put Sylvia in her place.

~0~

The trio found that it'd began to rain outside, coming along with thunder to finish the grim night.

"Ah... you'll have quite a bit of this. Atmospheric disturbance. Still, it'll pass," the Doctor explained to Wilf who'd accompanied them to the doorstep. "Everything does…" he turned to Wilf and shook a hand with him. "Bye then, Wilfred."

"Goodbye," Renata went next then Gabby.

"I'll watch out for you," Wilf promised but ended up worrying the Doctor.

"You can't ever tell her!"

"No, no, no. But every night, Doctor... when it gets dark... and the stars come out... I'll look up. On her behalf. I'll look up at the sky and think of you all."

The Doctor was touched of such a thing. "Thank you." He brought Renata down the front porch step and walked slowly with her, despite it being pouring.

Gabby took the lead with a sprint and opened the TARDIS doors for them. The pair came in eventually, now soaking wet. Gabby watched them slowly make it to the Captain's chair and she followed them but there was something she wanted to say that she didn't know how to word well.

She didn't know when it was appropriate to talk after... everything. Donna's forced departure was sure to be something that no one would be getting over soon. Donna had been a part of their small space family. Plus, Donna had been like a confidant for Gabby about all their space travels and what that did to them sometimes. Gabby realized that now there would be no other human - someone like her - to remember those memories. Donna had come first to the TARDIS but it seemed like Gabby would be the one to stay until the end.

"Um, Doctor? Renata?" she began with a soft call. The Doctor had pulled the TARDIS into the Vortex, making the box give a gentle shake. "I, uh, I... I'd really like to see my family. Just for a bit…"

"-of course, Gabby," Renata smiled at the girl. It was natural for her to want to see her family after what happened.

"If you want to stay for a while, that'd be fine too," the Doctor added.

"I don't want to stop!" Gabby exclaimed, wanting to leave that loud and clear. "I don't want to stop anytime soon! I just...I'd like to explain to them what it is I'm really doing. I want to be honest with them."

"Sounds good," Renata smiled but barely contained a groan. Her hand moved to her stomach.

Gabby watched sadly as the Doctor hurried to Renata's side. "Are you going to be okay, Renata?" she asked, sighing.

"Well, no regeneration energy right now so...not dying...for now," Renata scrunched her face. "I don't really know if I'll make it out of the woods, as you humans say. But I think I know where I have to go." She looked specifically at the Doctor for that bit, knowing that it was something he'd been trying to avoid ever since she brought it up earlier. "And I have to stay there for a while."

~0~

Zhe's gallery remained exactly the same as when the travelers first left it. No one was allowed up in her private moon but this time but this time, Zhe herself was down in the gallery when the travelers arrived. She came to greet them as soon as someone alerted her of the wheezing box. However, she knew instantly that something had happened for the Doctor was grim as he and Gabby helped Renata walk out of the blue box.

"What has happened?" she inquired as soon as they were face to face.

"Long story, could I please get a chair?" Renata smiled as politely as ever despite the pain that was rippling through her.

Once Zhe brought them into her office, where Renata could rest on a whole couch to herself, the Doctor began to explain everything. He started with the contamination that began the last time they visited the gallery, and how Renata was further infected with foreign nanonites from Dorothy Bell and the Osirans, then finished it with the Vortex Butterfly bit. He threw in Gabby's own manifested powers.

To say Zhe was in shock would be an understatement, but she wouldn't let that derail her from helping in any way that she could. "I'm sorry my Quantum Sphere did that to you - to both of you," she looked between Renata and Gabby. "I-I thought they would've just faded away."

"It's not your fault," Gabby said. "If anything, it's on me. If I hadn't let your apprentice touch me then neither me nor Renata would've been infected in the first place."

"Hey - no!" Renata was quick to interject. "No one is to blame, except myself. Let's be honest, this is just my punishment for the things I've done in the past. But Zhe, the reason I'm here is because I need to ask for a favor."

Zhe nodded, already agreeing no matter what. "Anything."

"I don't know why but...I feel like this place is the only place where I can be at peace for a while. I need to expel more of this energy, learn to control if I'm not going to die. Your art gallery - your private moon - there's no danger there if I unexpectedly combust. Can I stay, please?"

Zhe's eyes flickered to the Doctor and took note of the deep pain on the man's face. He wasn't at all for this idea but he was doing it for Renata because she wanted it. "Of course, Renata. You are as welcomed here as the Doctor is. You can stay for as long as you need to."

"Thank you," Renata nodded. She glanced at the Doctor as well and figured they might as well get it over with. "Can I just speak to the Doctor alone for a moment?"

"Yes, of course," Zhe nodded. She gestured for Gabby to follow her out. "We'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thank you," Renata watched them leave and when they were gone she finally let herself sigh as deep as an ocean was. She was so tired and if she didn't get to close her eyes in the next five minutes perhaps death would come for her then.

"Renata, you don't have to leave," the Doctor approached her on the couch. "If it's because of what happened before all the Daleks...I would never make you leave."

"It's not just that, Doctor," Renata shifted a bit to better face him. "I meant what I said about this energy thing. If I'm not going to die anytime soon, then I need to learn how to control this and can you imagine if I let it all out inside the TARDIS? All that extra vortex energy will not be good. And you know that, don't you?" the Doctor didn't say anything but his lowered gaze answered for him. "Besides, can you honestly look at me and not feel just a tad of anger for what I did?"

As if to test her theory, he gazed up and looked into her eyes. He wanted to say 'of course not' so badly, but then he remembered her lies...and her so many lies. He didn't want her to leave, nor did he want anything to happen to her, but he was a bit upset too. He was rightfully upset.

Renata smiled so warmly at him, just like Zuriah would. When she reached to touch his face, the Doctor instantly felt the same warmth he used to feel back in their early days. It finally made sense to him why she was so familiar to him, why he so easily fell for her as John Smith. It was why it was incredibly easy to make a choice between her and Rose.

"I love you, Gala," the words just slipped from his mouth before he could even think of it. There was a flutter of Renata's hearts when she heard her true name come from his lips. It'd been one of the most sacred rules they had broken by learning each other's names without being married. But she had loved the way her name sounded on his lips, even now the feelings stayed the same with the same level of love. "Meeting you all those centuries ago was the best thing that happened to me."

"Even though it led to so much heartbreak?" she tilted her head, fresh tears coming to her eyes.

"I would rather go through all that than to have never met you." He took her hand off his face and held it between his two hands. He gave her palm a soft kiss then looked at her again, needing her to understand that he was being 100% honest with her. Yes, he could trade that all in and spare himself the pain he felt losing her and learning that she had been travelling with him all this time. All this he would take just to see her again. That was what Martha had been trying to get him to understand before all the mess happened. "Getting the community service was the beginning of everything. I met the sweetest, kindest girl on that first day. It was the beginning of my greatest adventure - my riskiest - and it was the end of any hope of a life without her. She yelled a lot-" Renata chuckled with her blushing cheeks, "-but she had the best hearts on Gallifrey. Renata, you have a golden soul."

"I don't think I do," Renata's smile became a sad one. "I've done very bad stuff."

"So have I."

"But there's no darkness inside of you. You have always been a golden soul and I don't think that's ever going to change. So please listen to me when I say that despite everything that's happened, I don't want to lose you a third time." The Doctor took a seat next to her, never letting go of her hand. "I lost you once when you said no to running away, and then I lost you again after the Time War. I am not interested in losing you this time around."

"You would really want to...to be with me?" Renata blinked fairly fast out of genuine surprise but also because of the tears that wanted to stroll down from her eyes.

"My sweet Gala, of course. But I know that you're not ready, and perhaps neither am I just yet, so you take your time here. Rest, train, relax. And I will work hard to try to find a cure or something to help you. I'll come around every day to make sure you're okay." He'd much rather stay with her on the planet but he knew well that she wanted to be alone. "And when time passes, maybe you and I...we could, you know…" he trailed off with high hopes that she would nod her head at him.

She chuckled. "I'd...I'd like that." Martha's first words to her, after discovering who Renata truly was, came back to her mind. It was time to move on from her husband. "I mean, to be honest, I don't really know how to...be happy, in a sense. But maybe I can learn with you."

A great big grin came to the Doctor's face. He kissed her hand again then pulled her into a tight hug. Renata welcomed it fast and hugged him as tight as possible.

"Take care of Gabriella for me, okay?" she mumbled after a moment. "I don't want anything to happen to her, nothing like Donna."

The Doctor agreed when he drew away from her. "Nothing. I'll be over-protective to the point she'll want to vent to you about me. But I swear that no one will touch a hair on her head."

"I trust you," Renata smiled.

"Well, alright then…" he awkwardly looked around once he realized the time to go was now. "I'll, um...be on my way, then." Renata nodded. "Here." He pulled out Martha's cellphone from his inside pocket. "I'll answer anytime you need me, I promise." He stood up from the couch and backtracked to the door. "I'll be back, Renata."

"I know," she nodded. "And I'll...be here, working on myself." The Doctor smiled one more time before heading out and when he did, Renata once again had to exhale like she'd been holding in her breath.

A few seconds later, Zhe came in. "The Doctor and Gabby are on their way out."

"Yes, I know," Renata wearily blinked.

Zhe came around the couch and bent down in front of her. "Can I offer you something?"

"Some advice wouldn't be bad."

"Well, alright then. What do you need advice for?"

Renata pursed her lips together and let herself think about everything in her lives that she'd regretted, the unhappiness that came with it - the pain - and she turned her head to the side. "What do you do when you love someone so much but...you just don't know how to be happy?" Zhe blinked in confusion. "Why is that even though I have a wonderful man waiting for me, I still want to...die?"

Zhe went into shock and after a few minutes of processing, she became worried.

"I want to die," Renata's whisper was the last noise to be made in the room for a good while.

#ocappreciation #dailyreblogs #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who fics #10th doctor fics #dw imagines #10th doctor imagines #doctor who imagines #10th doctor fanfics #oc: Renata Cartwright #gabby gonzalez #fic: the beginning of everything

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riddikuluslypotter · 5 years

Text

If Life Was a Movie

Word count: 794 Summary: Sirius realises he’s gay. Just a short wolfstar fic :)

“Was Freddie Mercury really gay?” Peter asked, looking around the room. He sat in a circle with his dorm mates, the marauders, as well as the girls in their year. Lily, Marlene, Dorcas and Alice had crashed their dorm after hearing that Sirius had smuggled a stash of sweets from Honeyduke’s into the room. A few hours later and the conversation had led to muggle celebrities and their sexuality. Few wizarding celebrities were out, and the ‘purebloods’ in the room were amazed at the differences in muggle culture.

“Of course Pete, he’s renowned for being openly gay. Did you really not know that?” Remus asked laughingly, as Peter cluelessly shook his head.

“Mate, Mercury was gayer than Sirius!” James cackled, only pausing when he realised that no one else was laughing with him.

“What?” He asked, looking around at the slightly confused faces before landing on Sirius’.

“Prongs, I’m not gay.” Sirius stated, looking more than a little confused at James’ clear confidence of Sirius’ sexuality.

“Of course you are!” James exclaimed, met immediately with Sirius’ adamant denial. The two went back and forth for a few minutes, while their classmates watched on in a combination of confusion and amusement.

“You really don’t think you’re gay?” James asked, still holding onto the faint belief that Sirius might be joking.

“I think I would bloody know!”

“Alright then, who’s the hottest person in this room?” James asked, refusing to believe Sirius. After all, James knew Sirius as well as anyone, probably better.

“Remus.” Sirius stated matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious. The remainder of the room stared back at him in confusion (with the exception of James, who looked triumphant), and Remus was sent into a coughing fit. He, unfortunately, had been sipping a glass of water when Sirius answered.

Sirius himself began to look a little confused after noticing the sudden silence in the room, before his eyes widened as he realised the implications of his answer.

“That doesn’t mean I’m gay! It’s just that none of the girls here are particularly attractive – no offence.”

“None taken.” Lily replied, her smug expression making it clear that she now sided with James (a rare occurrence). “But do you think that perhaps, Sirius, the real reason you don’t consider any of us girls attractive is because you aren’t attracted to females? After all, Marlene has been offered a modelling job before.”

“Well of course all of you are attractive, but I guess you’re just not my type.”

“Are any of the girls in our year your type?” Lily asked cautiously, knowing the answer but hoping to get Sirius to realise it. His face had become increasingly confused in response to her statement, before realisation dawned.

“Oh my god.” He whispered, gears clearly turning in his head as he put the pieces together.

“Shit, I’m gay!” Sirius exclaimed, looking at the people around him in excitement, before his face fell slightly. Concern and fear quickly clouded his expression, and he swore under his breath before quickly leaving the dorm.

The room was left in a stunned silence.

“Is this a good time to come out?” All eyes now turned to Remus, who looked unperturbed at his statement that had left the rest of the room in mild shock.

“Good a time as any. Do you like Sirius?” James asked, immediately accepting his mate’s declaration in a distinctly James-like fashion, and already plotting to get his friends together.

“I think so,” Remus said, the statement sounding more like a question. “I never really thought about it. But yeah, I think I do!”

James grinned, briefly shooting Lily an ‘I told you so’ look before turning his attention back to Remus.

“Perfect. Go tell Sirius then!”

“Why did he leave? He seemed upset.” Remus asked, looking to his mate for advice.

“Look Moony, Pads has been told since he was a kid that it’s wrong to be gay. It’ll take time to overcome beliefs so heavily ingrained in him since he was a child. Probably not much, Sirius never exactly looked up to his parents, but he’s only just started.” James reasoned, knowing that his best mate would never truly have a problem with homosexuality. If anything, he would take absolute joy in the realisation that he had disappointed his parents again.

Right on cue, Sirius burst through the door, grinning.

“I’m freaking gay!” He yelled.

“Well that’s a relief.” Remus laughed, before grabbing his mate by the shirt and kissing him.

Needless to say, Sirius and Remus became the power couple of Hogwarts. As Sirius would often say to Remus (after watching far too many muggle teen romances with his boyfriend), ‘If life was a movie, babe, we’d be the goddamn homecoming kings.’

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #hp fics #hp fanfiction #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fanfiction #coming out #sirius x remus #remus x sirius

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green-spear-of-causality · 5 years

Note

For the OTP Drabbles Ask thing. 21- Proto-Cu and Robin Hood

- And so it begins.

I hope you enjoy, @oddnub!

21. "Jinx, you owe me a coke." *Can't speak until they buy the other a soda*

Proto Cú's Luck was as abysmal as ever.

First, he woke up and fell off the bed. After untangling himself from his blankets, he padded towards Chaldea's mess hall only to accidentally bump into Gilgamesh -- yes, the one from his older self's Grail War. The Gold Archer then proceeded to mock him, pointing out his messy hair (that was hastily put into its ponytail, give him a break it's his day off - ) as well as his clumsy footing while laughing in that condescending way of his. Proto Cú hurried around him to grab a bite to eat, only to slip in the remnants of last night's Food War and fall face-first into a pile of molding cheese. Gilgamesh howled with laughter, and Proto Cú felt his cheeks burn as he stood up and went to the sink to wash his face off.

He didn't think it could get any worse than this.

"Yo."

Proto Cú whipped his head around to see Robin Hood wave to him, the Green Archer situating himself on one of the very few untouched seats. All the others had some form of ketchup, eggs, or relish on them (Nobu knew how to utterly vandalize a place).

"Yo..." Proto Cú sighed out, wiping his face off on a dish towel. Robin's mouth quirked in amusement at seeing the Lancer's miserable face, eyebrow raised in concern.

"You look awful. What happened?"

"Goldie happened."

"Ah." Robin tilted his head towards him in sympathy, and Proto Cú felt a wave of gratitude for the Archer. Ever since they met, they hit it off almost instantly. It was similar to how his and Emiya's friendship worked, actually; the main difference was that he apparently shared a single brain cell with Robin, considering the amount of memes they casually throw at each other.

Another thing they shared was their love of pranks. Proto Cú had waited until he felt that their friendship was on a more secure level to hide Robin's cloak (it...actually smelled pretty nice) underneath Alter's mattress. He did it with permission from the Berserker, of course; he didn't have a death wish. He then got to watch with amusement as Robin sent him a withering glare for the rest of the first day, the May King scurrying around Chaldea and asking numerous Servants if they've seen his cloak. The Archer eventually found it a week later, looking like he fought four lions to get to it and flipping Proto Cú the bird once they saw each other again.

"I won't forget this," He had declared. Proto Cú remembered waving him off, too busy wheezing as he took pictures of Robin for future blackmail to really consider the implications.

And now, he wishes that he had. Proto Cú wasn't an idiot; he'd get his due eventually from him. The questions were when, and how.

Actually... Proto Cú frowned. "What are you doing up this early? You're usually walking around in another hour or so."

"Can't a Servant change their schedule up a bit?" Robin said innocuously, and immediately warning bells were ringing in Proto Cú's head. Robin prided himself on the amount of sleep he got; while Proto Cú rose with the sun, the May King waited until it was nearly all the way up in the sky to even consider moving.

Crimson eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh."

Robin snorted in laughter at his suspicion. "Nevermind that; let's eat some breakfast!"

"Like what?" Proto Cú asked as he grabbed some dish soap and a sponge, wiping down the seat next to Robin and drying it off before sitting down.

Robin looked around, stopping his search as his eyes landed on something. "Well, we'll just ask the Red Archer himself."

Proto Cú followed Robin's line of sight to the dual-wielding Archer, who scrunched his nose up at the sight of the destroyed mess hall. The Lancer lifted his hand and waved to him, calling out. "Yo, Archer! Do you know what's for breakfast?"

"I was going to try my hand at a Western-styled dish," The Counter Guardian began, making his way over to them, "But it seems that it will have to wait until a new shipment arrives. The only thing left should be the leftovers from yesterday..."

The Red Archer stepped into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a plate of dumplings. Robin and Proto Cú stared; they knew that it was enough food to fill one Servant, not two.

Silence. Then,

"Gimme that bitch!"

"You better STOP! STOOOOP!!"

Emiya grunted as the two Servants pushed each other out of the way to reach for the plate, the taller Archer holding it over his head as they jumped for it. They were arguing all the while, and slowly he was developing a headache because of it.

"Let me at least set down the goddamn plate first or so help me I'll - "

He didn't finish. He didn't need to; Robin and Proto Cú stilled, drawing back and looking at him.

They spoke in perfect unison, seeming to sing the two words. "...You're angry."

Emiya blinked. The duo locked eyes with each other, shouting in tandem. "JINX! DOUBLE JINX!"

Robin then kicked Proto Cú's shin hard, making the blue-haired Servant double over in pain. He grabbed the plate of dumplings, Emiya letting him with a sigh as he dropped back into his seat to eat.

Proto Cú could hear the smugness in his voice. "Triple jinx. You owe me a coke."

"Son of a bitch!" Proto Cú cried out, Emiya sending him The Look as Jack and Nursery Rhyme chose that time to enter the mess hall themselves. The Lancer couldn't believe that he fell for it; Robin was known for playing dirty when it was required, and he's seen him do it numerous times to their enemies.

"You know the rules." Robin sing-songed, and Proto Cú gritted his teeth. He then mimed drinking a bottle, favoring his injured shin as he all but ran out of the room.

Emiya turned to Robin, anger forgotten as curiosity took over. "Mind explaining that?"

"He's jinxed." Robin stated matter-of-factly, taking a bite out of another dumpling and humming in content. Emiya didn't even know that he liked cold dumplings. "He can't talk until he gets me a soda. Specifically, Coca-Cola."

An ominous smile stretched across his face. "Little does he know that I've hidden all of the Coca-Cola Chaldea has in the last place he'd ever think to look."

Emiya blanched. He then paled in horror, eyes wide with disbelief. "...You didn't."

Robin cackled. "I did."

"But - That's - "

"Suicide?" Robin poked a dumpling absentmindedly. "Well...he should've thought about that before stealing my cloak and putting it in Alter's room."

"This is an entirely different manner of beast we're discussing here, Robin." Emiya stressed, resting his hands on the (thankfully clean) counter. "You know what she can do, especially considering it's him - "

"He'll be fine." Robin said, a little bit too forcefully, and Emiya could see that he was trying to reassure himself. The May King grimaced, no longer finding the situation as amusing as he had beforehand.

"...He has to be."

--------

Goddamn smug Archer with his goddamn kicks - ! Proto Cú seethed, unable to voice his frustrations out loud as he made his way over to Da Vinci's Workshop. He couldn't believe that he fell for the oldest trick in the book; hell, he should've expected it!

He threw the door open, startling Da Vinci. The genius let out a breath, body sagging in relief.

"Oh, it's just you, Proto...I thought you were Romani for a second. What can I do for you?"

Where can I get some damn Coca-Cola? Proto Cú almost said that out loud, but he remembered Robin's smug look as he jinxed him.

He grimaced. He mimed drinking something, drawing a C in midair before Da Vinci got it.

"Oh, Coca-Cola? So Robin finally got you, didn't he?"

HE PLANNED FOR THIS?! Proto Cú wanted to scream, instead settling for throwing his hands into the air while his face contorted into some form of angered exasperation. I should've known that it was payback for the cloak...

Da Vinci giggled at his antics, looking over her work with a knowing smile. "Sorry, but I don't have any Cola here. You can wait for the new shipment to come in, if you want to; it'll come in...oh, about three months."

THAT'S THREE MONTHS TOO MANY!! Proto Cú silently groaned, burying his face in his hands. Da Vinci hummed.

"Well, try asking Romani. He's the one who keeps an eye on the shipments coming into Chaldea, and also keeps track of inventory. If anyone would know where to find some Cola, it'd be him."

Proto Cú bowed in gratitude, taking off down the hallway towards the Doctor. In his haste he almost ran over Arthur, scaring the Saber.

"Lancer! Why are you in such a rush?"

Proto Cú waved his hands around wildly, mind in disarray. Can't talk gotta go find Roman so he can tell me where the Cola is because for some reason it's gone from Da Vinci's Workshop and this is turning into some Grand Adventure -

Arthur held up a hand, making him pause. "Is this about a bet between you and Robin Hood? If it helps, I heard him in the West Wing a couple of days ago in the dead of night. I was visiting Mordred at the time, and it was late, so I was surprised to see him out and about."

The West Wing. That was where the female Servants resided, and if Robin was there, then -

Oh no. A voice, one that sounded very much like Ozpin when Hazel found him reverberated within his reference-addled mind. Robin had to have hidden the Cola as payback; that much, he was sure of.

If he was in the West Wing, then that left two options: Scáthach, or -

Don't think about the Devil lest she appear.

Proto Cú nodded his thanks, Arthur wishing him luck with a smile and a wave as he took off. He'd go to his mentor's room first; that way, if he had to die at least it'd be an honorable death. He straightened himself as he approached her door, knocking thrice.

The answer was immediate. "Come in."

Proto opened the door. His mentor sat cross-legged on her bed, braiding Fran's hair as a soft tune played in the background. The Berserker hummed along brokenly with it, a smile on her face, and Proto felt as if he was intruding on a serene moment.

Scáthach side-eyed him. "State your business."

Proto Cú inwardly sighed. Was he really prepared to embarrass himself in front of his mentor? ...It was too late to back out, anyhow. He outlined an invisible drink, spelling out C-O-L-A with his hands before stepping back and waiting for a response.

Scáthach paused in her actions, Fran continuing to hum happily. "If this is about that Green Archer, then I don't have anything of value to you. I heard him speak to Medb three days ago, though, in the dead of night."

...

It really was the Worst-Case-Scenario.

Proto Cú nodded his thanks, and turned to go. Scáthach stopped him, her words giving him pause.

"Good luck, my student. You know what you must do."

Aye. He thought miserably, gently closing the door behind him so as to not further disrupt the serenity. He had two options: either wait for the next shipment to come in, or to brave the horrors of Medb's room.

He didn't think he could stay mute for three months.

Robin's lucky that I'm not going to eviscerate him with my spear. Proto Cú manifested it just in case, tip toeing towards the Rider's room. Then again, this whole mess is my fault in the first place. I've learned my lesson.

He sucked in a breath and knocked.

Silence. He waited with bated breath, deciding to knock again. No response. He almost knocked a third time before noticing that the door was unlocked. Just as he was about to open it, movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

A dust cloud was seen in the distance, seeming to grow larger with each passing second. A high pitched sound made itself known to him, becoming louder as he turned to face it.

...The hell?

He peered closer. It...actually looked like a person was running -

"CÚÚÚÚÚÚÚÚ!!!!!"

Medb.

Oh shit.

RUN!!!

Proto Cú let the fear kick his legs into overdrive, turning tail and running back the way he came. He could hear the Rider's footsteps growing closer; was she..actually catching up to him?

If you stop, you're dead. His mind helpfully supplied, making him almost let loose a string of curses. No matter how many turns he took, she was right there behind him. It was like she had a Cú Detector on hand.

I need to lose her somehow!

He was in the East Wing. Think...Think! His older Lancer counterpart yawned as he stepped out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Perfect.

Proto Cú slapped his fellow Lancer's back as he ran by, diving behind the couch as the other stumbled. "What the - ?"

"YAYYY THERE'S ANOTHER CÚ!!" Medb's voice made the counterpart yelp and start running, leaving Proto Cú alone as he emerged from his hiding spot. He dusted himself off, sending a silent apology to his older self as he ran towards Medb's room.

It was time to end this nightmare.

--------

He'll be fine. He has to be. Robin paced back and forth in one of the break rooms, Emiya watching him out of the corner of his eye with a knowing smirk.

"Worried?"

"Shut up." He retorted, mentally berating himself for not telling Medb to go easy on him. This is the last time I let my anger get the best of me.

The door burst open. Robin's head whipped up to see Cú - not Proto, but the other Lancer version - throw himself into the room and slam the door shut behind him, locking it.

Crimson met steel. "Hide me."

"Pardon?" Emiya asked, confused. Cú gave him no time to respond; the Lancer moved around behind him and peeked over his shoulder, eyes trained on the door. Robin noticed his messy hair, strands sticking this way and that, and figured that the blue-haired Servant just woke up.

"A crazy bitch is after me." Cú whispered, eyes wide yet unmoving. "I don't care what I have to do to make it up to you; just hide me."

Emiya glanced down at him. To Robin's amazement, his face morphed into a strange expression for a split second before going back to its default. "There's a side room tucked away in the back right. Stay in there until I say otherwise."

"You are a lifesaver!" Cú breathed a sigh of relief as he went through the side door, shutting it softly behind him.

Robin stared at Emiya.

"Don't say it."

Robin stared.

"...It was spur of the moment."

Stare.

Emiya flushed in embarrassment. "It's not - "

The doorknob jiggled.

The two Archers zeroed in on it, falling silent as it rumbled more violently. The readied themselves for a battle they'd rather not have, drawing their weapons -

The knob broke as Proto Cú burst into the room, scouring it for .4 seconds before chucking something at Robin. The Green Archer yelped as the offending object hit his head, falling into his lap innocuously and resting there.

"There's your motherfuckin' Cola." Proto Cú said in exhaustion, closing the door behind him and dropping to the ground. Emiya lowered his weapons, letting them dematerialize as he let out a puff of air to relax his suddenly tense muscles.

Robin opened the Cola, taking a sip. "You're alive." He noted.

Proto Cú bristled. "Yeah, no thanks to you! I can't believe you've done this!"

The British accent made Robin chuckle. "I know, I know. Bringing in Medb was a bit much."

"A bit? A BIT?!" As Proto Cú began his (unnecessarily long) rant, Emiya gave the two a small smile. They really did act like an old married couple, didn't they?

All's well ends well, I suppose.

-------- OMAKE! --------

Fsn Cú: ...Is it safe to come out yet?

Fsn Cú: Oi! Guys? Helloooo?

Robin: Just come out of the fucking closet already

Robin: We all know you're gay for Emiya

Fsn Cú, opening the door: Okay, thanks -

Fsn Cú:

Fsn Cú: Wait -

Fsn Cú: WHAT -

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fallintosanity · 5 years

Text

that’s enough chocobros angsting in pajamas, time for some completely different pajama angst between (sort of) mortal enemies

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

immersed in mako, green poison choking him

strapped to a table, needles sliding into his arms and scalpels slicing into his skin

he failed, someone says, make him do it again. and he’s plunging back into the tanks, his skin burning, his lungs seizing as mako closes over his head

men in lab coats standing over him, holding clipboards and taking notes, ignoring his pleas for help, for release, for an end to the agony

please don’t make me do this again please

an electric whine in his ears, rising to a shriek. a flash of white. jump

nausea, pain rattling his bones, falling to the floor

failure, hojo says, cackling. his eyes aren’t glowing. make him do it again.

please don’t make me do this again

an electric whine in his ears, rising to a shriek. a flash of white. jump

nausea, pain rattling his bones, falling to the floor

failure, hojo says, cackling. his eyes aren’t glowing. make him do it again.

please don’t

an electric whine in his ears, rising to a shriek. a flash of white. jump

nausea, pain rattling his bones, falling to the floor

failure, hojo says, cackling. his eyes aren’t glowing. make him—

please

plunging into the tanks again and that’s no relief, it’s worse

no please stop it please

Zack floating in the other tank, hands pressed against the glass, his mouth forming words: Cloud, hold on, please hold on, Cloud, c’mon, Cloud—

“Cloud, wake up.”

He snapped awake, adrenaline and terror pounding through him. Saw pale skin, silver hair, glowing green eyes above him, and reacted without thinking, flailing free of the blankets and scrambling away. But the bunk was narrow and he banged into the wall, trapped, eyes darting around for his sword, for any weapon—

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said again, sharper. “Calm down.”

The words didn't make sense at first. There was no calm when Sephiroth was around. But slowly Cloud began to process other things than his enemy’s presence. The fact that he was in his ShinRa apartment, in the past. That the Sephiroth in front of him wore the same ShinRa-issue pajama pants as Cloud did, rather than his armor, and his hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. That he didn't hold Masamune. In fact, his arms were crossed over his bare chest, and instead of his usual expression of faint smugness, he mostly looked tired.

It took several more minutes for Cloud to find his voice, and it still came out tight and strangled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Sephiroth said, as though Cloud wasn't acutely aware of that fact. As though Sephiroth himself wasn't a main feature in many of Cloud's nightmares.

Cloud scowled. “Get out.”

“No.”

“...what?”

Sephiroth sighed. “If I leave, you’ll go back to sleep.”

“So?”

“So,” Sephiroth said with exaggerated patience, “I have three very important meetings with the president and several of his directors tomorrow. I need to be rested.”

Cloud glared at him. “What does that have to do with me sleeping?”

Green eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I can't sleep through your nightmares.”

It took a minute for the implication to process, and when it did, Cloud's blood ran cold. “You… you see my nightmares?!”

“Yes,” Sephiroth said, like it was obvious. At Cloud’s horrified stare, he frowned. “You... didn't realize?”

“No!” Cloud hissed. “No, why the hell would I have any reason to think you can see my nightmares?!” He wanted to back away further, but the wall behind him hemmed him in, and the room was too small for him to get around Sephiroth to escape out the door. He pressed his shoulders against the wall anyway, hard enough that the plaster creaked. ...Maybe if he pushed hard enough he could break through the wall and escape that way.

Sephiroth sighed again, then - thank Gaia - stepped back from the side of the bed to lean on Cloud’s desk. It was only a foot or two of additional distance, but even that little bit of space was enough that Cloud could make himself stop trying to back straight through the wall. Sephiroth waited, silent and patient; finally Cloud burst out, “How long?”

“Since you joined ShinRa,” Sephiroth answered calmly. “Though it wasn’t until shortly before we retrieved you from Nibelheim that I realized where they were coming from.”

That was well over a year’s worth of nightmares. Cloud shivered, pulling his knees to his chest and curling around them. The thought that Sephiroth of all people had been a witness to his nightmares all this time… He wanted to puke, and had to swallow a few times before he could trust his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Sephiroth said. Cloud stared at him incredulously for a second before realizing he meant it as a joke, and then kept staring at him because he couldn’t quite figure out how to deal with Sephiroth joking about anything, much less this.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, an intensely human gesture that made Cloud think more of Genesis than of the deadly madman who’d nearly destroyed the Planet. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t realize you weren’t aware.” He hesitated, his body language suddenly conveying uncertainty - another human emotion bizarre to see on him - then added, “You don’t see my dreams?”

“No,” Cloud said immediately, then paused. “I don’t think so.”

Sephiroth chuckled dryly. “I suppose my average dream is considerably less… memorable… than yours.”

Cloud shivered. As horrible as the thought was of Sephiroth seeing his nightmares, the thought of him seeing Sephiroth’s nightmares was almost worse. He didn’t want to know what the son of Calamity dreamed about. And he definitely didn’t want him spending the night in Cloud’s room. “Go away.”

“I need to rest,” Sephiroth said.

“You aren’t going to get any sleep standing in my room,” Cloud pointed out.

“No,” Sephiroth agreed, “but it’s still more restful to stand here than it is to suffer through your nightmares.” Another hesitation, though this time it seemed more cautious than unsure. Finally he said carefully, “They… seemed worse than usual tonight.”

Cloud crossed his arms. He knew the tenor of his nightmares well enough by now to know this batch had been sparked by the discussion of Noctis Lucis Caelum’s SOLDIER treatments earlier that afternoon, but he wasn’t about to discuss any of that with Sephiroth.

After a few minutes of silence, Sephiroth seemed to realize Cloud wasn’t going to say anything. He shifted against the desk, absently flipping his hair out of the way and re-folding his arms, clearly settling in for the long haul. Cloud glared at him, but it wasn’t as though he could do anything about it. If Cloud left the room, Sephiroth would just follow him. No, he was stuck here for the rest of the night. Scowling, he crossed his legs and leaned against the wall, glaring at Sephiroth.

It was going to be a long, long night.

#final fantasy vii #ffvii #fanfiction #final fantasy xv #ffxv #the fifth act #sanity's final fantasy crossover fic

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mittensmorgul · 6 years

Note

I recently read a fic on ao3 and it was funny and great and then I thought of a few major changes that would make it even more hilarious. Problem is, I don't know the etiquette here. Should I just go ahead and write my own version? Add a link to the original story and credit it as inspiration? It was based on a prompt so the idea isn't exclusively the author's I suppose. Anyway I'll only be borrowing the start scenario (which is the prompt) and there will be no other similarities. Please help

Hello there. I’m gonna start what I expect will be kind of a long essay by saying there is an awful lot to unpack here… Starting with the fact that there is a chasm of difference between taking inspiration from a prompt fill fic and imagining an entirely different scenario, and starting that from a mentality of “I can do better than you.” The first is at the root of all of human creativity. We all bounce off one another and take inspiration from each other, and the entire history of human storytelling is essentially one long conversation. But the second part of this historically leads to fisticuffs. No, really. Google “famous literary feuds” for all the reasons why.

It’s not so much a difference in practical terms, but in your approach and understanding here.

So this is why I saw this ask in my inbox late last night and decided I needed to go to sleep rather than trying to answer you right away. But now I have coffee, so let’s give this a try. :P

I’d start by asking what the source of the prompt was. Was it a tumblr post? A prompt from a prompt list? Even one of those “pick a pairing and a prompt and I’ll write a short ficlet” posts? If so, you’re probably free to use the prompt by going back to the original fic prompt list. People publish those as jumping off points to write fic, and they actively WANT people to use them this way.

If the prompt, however, was given to a specific author by someone, you might want to at least ask that author if it would be okay for you to write something of your own based on the prompt. And at least try not to frame it as “I can write something better than you did” when you ask. That’s just rude and demoralizing for the author who’s already published a fic for that prompt, you know?

I get fic ideas all the time from random places, but there’s a different etiquette for each of them.

Sometimes a random tumblr post will give me an idea, and I’ll go talk to the OP privately, both because it’s FUN to talk about someone’s wild headcanon with them, and because you’re approaching the person who had the initial idea with courtesy and in the spirit of collaboration, rather than from this place of “stealing their idea.” The first builds good fandom feelings, while the second tends to do the opposite. I have a couple of experiences here that will hopefully illustrate the difference.

A few years back, when Lizbob was running the Great Meta Scavenger Hunt during s12, it led to the creation of the Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt. The theory behind it was that any number of authors could take the same fic prompt based on a single trope paired with a single distinctive character trait and the results would all be entirely unique stories. The intent was to prove that just because an idea had been written before, it becomes a new story when written by someone else, you know? And it was TRUE.

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/the-great-fic-writer-scavenger-hunt/chrono

We had DOZENS of authors participate, and despite all writing “the same story” every week, NONE of the resulting stories were even remotely the same.

On the other hand, I posted an insomnia-inspired headcanon a few months ago, and within five minutes after posting it, my insomnia brain– with an assist from a more rational point of view thanks to lizbob– had taken that little notion and spun it out into long fic in my head. I went back to my original post to laugh at myself in a reblog, announcing that I was gonna write long fic of the thing and for people to stay tuned for more, but other folks had already reblogged the original with comments to the effect of, “Someone should write this fic!” The worst thing was that other authors were tagged into it. As if my highly specific headcanon was suddenly communal property. Because the implication behind it– whether it was the truth or not– felt like “I like this headcanon, but have decided that I don’t want the OP to actually write this story because I like XYZ author’s writing better.”

And I know that was not the intent of the folks who added those comments to my post, but as someone who actively writes fic for this fandom, it felt like a slap in the face.

Now if those same people had replied, “OP please write more of this!” or “What a cool idea!” or even if they’d come to me privately and said, “Hey this is a cool idea, do you mind if I use it to write a longer fic?” I would’ve been HAPPY about it.

Can you see the difference here, anon?

The result was a rather frustrating back and forth where I was told that because I posted the idea in public it was effectively free real estate for anyone else to squat on. I mean, isn’t that what we’re all doing with the source material we base all our fan creations on anyway? We don’t ask the Supernatural writers for permission to use their characters, their settings, their intellectual property to create our own stories and art, right?

But the difference here is apparently too subtle for some folks to grasp. The Supernatural writers aren’t part of our fandom community. And the culture within fandom operates on different rules. Fandom creators are not source creators, and yes we all collectively “steal” from the same source, but it sort of defies the underlying premise that fandom creators as a whole are operating on the same level to suggest that “stealing” from another fandom creator is the same thing.

From my understanding, the entire point of fandom creators doing what they do is to build a community together around the thing we all love. There is a way to do that in good faith, through collaboration and the free sharing of ideas and creations.

I hope this makes sense.

The result of all of that was that I set aside another project I’d been wanting to write and instead began spite writing my own headcanon post. It was like pulling teeth at first, because there was so much Bad Fandom Feeling attached to the concept that the words just didn’t want to come. It’s FINALLY flowing now, though (after several months of the aforementioned teeth-pulling), and is nearing 18k words. I’m hoping it’ll be done and ready to post by the end of March, so I can FINALLY go back to writing the thing I’d originally wanted to work on before this nonsense blew up.

I’ve also unfortunately been one of the authors tagged in on someone else’s headcanon post in the past. I know the folks who do this think it’s flattering, and they’re just excited about an idea and want to read more of it, but the correct etiquette is ALWAYS to approach the OP in PRIVATE before taking their idea and writing it yourself, or pointing another author in the direction of the post and suggesting they write it for you.

I can guarantee you that 99 times out of 100, the OP will actually be flattered you enjoyed their idea so much you want to read more of it if you frame it from a place of appreciation and excitement, rather than from a place of selfish entitlement or superiority.

I’ve talked about this before, but this is how I have always approached fic writing. I got my first idea for a long fic from the Valentine’s Day Collab fic that Winjennster ran back in 2015. I told her I had an idea based on her prompt that I wanted to write as a much longer fic than would fit into the 3k limit for the collab, and she told me to go forth and be fruitful with my words. Actually, I think her exact words were more like “HELL YES! YOU DO THAT!” or something, but the spirit was the same. :P

The next fic I wrote (Project Beyonce) was inspired by a series of tumblr crack posts about “what sort of tumblr blogs would each member of TFW run?” And I reblogged them with commentary about how this would make a hilarious fic, because they were that sort of “conversational thread” of crack headcanons where that sort of addition was more than welcome. Not to mention I was already on friendly terms with the other participants in the thread, so it wasn’t strange for me to zoom in out of the blue and announce I was writing fic inspired by those posts. Even though my fic was set in an AU, and the only commonality was the fact that Dean and Cas were on tumblr. Nothing else about my fic was even remotely similar to the canon crack headcanons from those posts, and I don’t think that anyone involved in the original threads was upset that I’d written fic based on Dean being Cas’s favorite tumblr anon…

My first DCBB (Revenge of the Subtext) was inspired by a crack post made by @nicelimabean. One single sentence about Jensen and Jared walking into a con dressed like Sam and Dean and covered in dirt and blood, and suddenly I had 80k of fic running through my head. I sat there and stared at her post for like five minutes and then went immediately to the chat bubbles to ask– nay, beg– to use her post as a fic prompt for the DCBB. We talked it over for a good long while, both of us growing more excited as the ideas spun out, and long story short, not only did I make a wonderful fandom friend, she ended up beta reading for me and being an ongoing source of encouragement and support in fandom. We even met in person at a con (!) and spent the weekend cackling about how everything felt like a reference to RotS (since at the time we were the only two people on the planet who’d read the fic or even knew what it was about, because DCBB rules of secrecy).

Since then, I’ve gotten ideas for fic from tumblr (and always asked the OP for permission to write their idea– like for fic such as Plotbunny which was based on the combination of ideas from @bluestar86 on a WONDERFUL way to confirm Dean’s bisexuality in canon and Lizbob’s long desire for an Easter Bunny episode, combined with the fact that Easter fell on April Fool’s Day last year… to ideas for The Terminal Job based on chats with @truebluecas about an airport AU WHICH I AM SO SORRY STROB I STILL HAVE IT ON MY LIST TO WRITE AND I SWEAR I WILL WRITE IT EVENTUALLY D:

I’ve also had the reverse happen, where someone read one of my fics and was inspired to write their own fic based on Revenge of the Subtext. They approached me in private with the idea and asked for my blessing to write it. Honestly, I was FLOORED that anyone would be inspired by my words like that, and eagerly encouraged them to write their idea. I’ve also had people give me fic ideas in comments on AO3, in chats both on tumblr and Discord, which turned into longer conversations and eventually more fic (or at the very least to ideas on my To Be Written list). But I always ALWAYS ask permission from the other person or people before writing their ideas. And I have NEVER been told that I was not permitted. People are usually PLEASED that their ideas are deemed worthy by another writer, you know? It’s exciting!

This also goes for art inspired by fic, but in a slightly different way. If someone (anyone!) was inspired to draw something based on something I wrote, I will UNIVERSALLY BE THRILLED that my words inspired someone’s creativity in a different medium. But the key here is it’s a different medium. Nobody ever has to ask permission to art my fic. But that’s not the same as wanting to rewrite my fic into a different story, you know?

Not to mention, collaborating and asking permission and sharing the enthusiasm for an idea or a story like this with others has the potential to boost ALL of your creations. You could build resentment in fandom from other creators, or you can all lift each other up. Starting from the standpoint of communal excitement can result in mutual promotion of each other’s works, you know? Do you want a built-in cheerleader for your work, to build connections in fandom that will eventually support ALL of your works? Then your approach to sharing ideas this way is the key that could potentially unlock that door, or conversely lock it behind you. Your choice, really.

Wait, what was I talking about again? OH right. The whole entire point of fandom. We’re all of us in this same boat, sailing the seas of our chosen Source Material together. You can use your creative abilities for Good, to build communities up, or you can be That Asshole who tries to build themselves up while effectively shading or demoralizing other fandom creators in the process.

So what I’m saying here isn’t necessarily about your desire to write something based on someone else’s idea, but more about the approach you take to it. It costs zero dollars to be polite about it and approach it from a direction of good will and joy in creating for the thing we all love together, you know?

#fandom problems #writing is hard #Anonymous

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fallen029 · 5 years

Text

Crush.1

"I need your help, boss."

"You can help yourself to the door," was all Laxus grumbled as he continued to glare down at his beer. "I'm busy."

Bickslow frowned, staring hard at the man. "Busy doing what?"

"Contemplating how hard it would be to shove your head in this glass and drown ya."

"W-Well, pretty hard, I'd think, considering the my head is bigger than the-"

"Piss off, Bickslow," the slayer growled that time, looking up with a heavy glare. "I'm warnin' ya."

"But I need help." And, with the lack of caution only a complete moron could have, the seith took his seat at the table with the man. "It's important, yeah?"

"What?" So long as his eyes were up anyways, Laxus took a good look around, taking stock of the fact that Mirajane Strauss was, at the moment, only tables away from his when she'd no doubt be around to ask if he needed anything. He wanted the seith long gone by that time. "Make it quick."

"It's advice, actually, the deep intellectual kind that only you and I could have together, you know? Freed and Ever, they don't get us. Me and you. Dark knights. Cast aside! In a world of-"

"I don't have time for this."

"Neither do I!" Bickslow was glad they were on the same page. As his dolls, used to his tricks of misdirection, began cackling, the seith only continued. "That's why I thought it was time, you know? That I found something else to be. A new, fresher backstory. A new year is upon us, boss. It's time for a new Bickslow. A fresher Bickslow. Or what? What's that? More return to form? No, not this form. My first form. Just how many forms do I have? I don't know, boss. I just don't-"

"Hi, Laxus. Bickslow. Do you guys need anything?"

"Actually, yes, Mirajane," the latter man began as she appeared then, at the side of their table, a serving tray tucked under one arm. "I need you to be more courteous of others. I was in the middle of a monologue, here, with the boss, and you just trampled all over- Ow! Laxus, what the fuck? Why did you-"

"Shut up, Bickslow," the slayer growled truly then at his faithful follower. Beneath the table, he'd kicked the man so hard in the shins that Bickslow thought about defecting from the cult of Laxus. The abuse was growing rampant. New year, new idol, the way things were heading.

Mira only stood there, titling her head slightly at the two men. They were acting erratically in a normal setting, but in the confines of Fairy Tail's guildhall, they hardly seemed out of sorts. Giggling some, she only remarked, "Well, if you don't need anything- Well, other than not to be interrupted-"

"He was joking." Laxus, who's eyes had become transfixed on the woman, turned hard and cold back to one of his closest of buddies. "Tell her that you were joking, Bickslow. Now."

"I was joking!" His voice even jumped an octave or so, it seemed, cracking just a bit as the seith desperately wanted to save his other shin from being fractured. "Mira. Interrupt all you want!"

The woman only shook her head a bit though as she remarked, "I'm almost done for the day, actually. Lisanna'll take over for me."

"I know."

Both Bickslow and Mira frowned as that happened out of the slayer's mouth. Even he frowned, once it was out, before turning to glare back down at his beer once more. He coughed. Once. Twice. Three times.

Then Mira lost interest in whatever game the two had going on and went back to finishing up with her tables. Bickslow watched her walk away, but Laxus only went back to glaring at his beer and refused to look up.

"Boss, what the fuck was that, huh?" The seith whistled then, his babies immediately attempting the same feat. "You got a hard on for Mirajane or something?"

"Shut up, idiot."

"Is that why you've been hanging around the guild so much recently? Hoping to get it in with the she-devil, eh?" Bickslow couldn't help it then. The whole thing was so entertaining to him that he just about choked on his tongue as his snickers lead to near convulsions. "How filthy, boss. How disgusting. How much like something I would definitely do. Had the same thoughts, actually, boss. In fact, do you think after you, uh, finally get it in and all, I can- Ow, boss! That was my last good shin!"

He glared, the slayer did, across the table at the seith. So heavily that Bickslow was fearful for more than two bruised shins by the time their little meeting was over.

"Keep," Laxus growled at him, "your filthy thoughts to yourself."

"I's only messin' around, boss. I mean, it's alright, yeah? I dunno if you noticed, but most everyone around here wants to fuck Mirajane. You're not exactly special or nothin'. Nothin' to get all bashful about."

"Listen, you half-wit." And he was rising then, from his seat, the slayer was. "If I hear even so much as a peep outta ya for the rest of the day, or just one in general, about all this, ever again, I'll give ya a new identity alright. How easy will it be, eh? Bickslow? To be a new person when I rearrange your face into an all new one?"

"Pretty easy, I'd guess, boss."

"Was that a peep?"

"Ah, no, boss, leave me alone!"

He ran then, Bickslow did, fled though Laxus didn't give chase. His own problems of loss of new persona was gone though as the man rested with his back up against one of the walls of the guildhalls front, heartbeat jumping out of his chest. Clearly, the man hadn't liked his teasing. At all. Which could only mean that, well, that the slayer wanted to bone the demon.

A perfectly good choice.

Gosh, Laxus sure knew how to pick 'em.

Under a normal circumstance, Bickslow probably wouldda just slunk on back to he and Freed's apartment, bitched and moaned about how the boss was mad at him and new year, new him, so he would just defect, from their cult, and then Freed would inform him not only is it not a cult, but if he was itching for someone to beg him to stay, he was barking up the wrong tree.

But this was no ordinary fight he and his idol had just had. No. This was something much deeper. A problem, even, that Bickslow could solve for the man! A perfect way to skip all that bitchin' and moanin'. The boss was crushin', hard, on the Strauss woman and, well, it just so happened that Bickslow had an in with the Strausses.

"I do not have an...in with the Strausses, Bickslow, and I resent the implication."

"Ever, I can see him, right there, behind you," the seith griped a bit as he stood in the doorway of Evergreen's apartment. The door was only opened a crack though and she was not allowing him to see the very obvious overgrown Strauss sibling snoozing on her living room couch. "You're not hiding it very well."

"Piss off, Bickslow."

Well, fine. He didn't have an in with the Strausses then.

"Fancy meetin' ya here, Lisanna."

"Well, I mean, I'm working right now, at my normal shift, so I don't know, really, how surprising that can be."

Bickslow beamed though as the woman bent over a table, busing it. It was right before the dinner rush and, while Kinana manned the bar, Lisanna wanted to get the place back in order before that happened. Just so everyone could screw the place up all over again. She really didn't understand how her older sister loved it so much, the utter chaos that happened up at the hall. Well, she did understand, because she liked it too, when she was on the side of the chaotic. But when she was one of the ones having to clean up after, suddenly, the antics of her friends were a lot less fun and a lot more obnoxious.

Still, the seith was undeterred with her obvious lack of enthusiasm over, literally, just seeing him. A normal guild mate.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Does it involve actually tipping me? Because if not- Ow! Bickslow, what was that?"

"A coin." He'd nicked her right in the ear. "A tip. For your troubles."

"You know what-"

"Oi, I don't got time for this, kid."

"Well, I don't have time for you either, right now, so unless you're placing an order-"

"It's got to do with your sister, yeah?" He glanced about then, the seith did, but it was the middle of the afternoon and most everyone who wasn't a drunk or job avoider was out until dinner time. "And the boss."

"Master Makarov?"

"Not your boss. My boss. The boss?"

"I don't know what that means."

"You know, Lisanna, I'm really itchin' to throw another coin at ya."

"You're the one bothering me!"

Oh, yeah, right. Heh.

"Lisanna," his dolls began to complain then as she was quickly moving on to the next table. "Help Papa!"

"With," she griped, actually speaking to his dolls and oh, wow, Bickslow was honored, "what?"

"I got a super secret plan, yeah?" He glanced all about once more. "Well, and idea, actually, instead. No plan. Yet. But I need an insider to help out with whatever it is. And, you know, actually come up with the plan for me. And who's more of an insider to your sister than you, Lisanna? Well," he stopped to snicker, "hopefully the boss after all this, but-"

"Who," she griped as she finally slammed down her busing tray just to turn and face him, "is the boss? Bickslow? And what are you going on about?"

He took steps forwards then, towards her, and though she wanted to run, Lisanna stood still as he leaned down to whisper in her ear a few things. As her eyes could only widen, the woman took to nodding as he eventually withdrew, standing before her with a serious look.

"I'm in," she said with a grin. "This- Oh man, yeah, I'm in."

"'cause you want the boss to be happy. Great! A new cultist. Word to the wise, watch out for Evergreen. She ain't too keen on other women."

"No," she said slowly with a shake of his head. "I really don't care about La- The boss." She caught herself, just in case of listening ears. Drunks and job avoiders they might be, but to keep them from being plan ruiners was the most important task Lisanna and Bickslow had at the moment. "Or his happiness."

"Then the happiness your sister will get from being with the greatest mage to ever walk the planet. Ah. Nice thinking. If I had a sister, I'd offer her up to the boss."

"That's a pretty weird thing to say."

"I'm a pretty weird guy."

She had to give him that.

"I don't really care about that either though," Lisanna said as she held her head higher, refusing to look at him. "I'll keep my secrets and you keep yours."

"I have none. I just want the boss to be happy. And I get to bone a lotta the women he's tossed aside, all used up and broken. I'm really bankin' on that one."

She narrowed her eyes that time and, from behind his visor, Bickslow did the same. They studied one another and he thought, maybe, he'd finally gone too far. She'd go runnin' off to her sister or the boss and that was that. A wrap.

Instead, she only held out a hand, which he easily returned, gripping hers tightly as he shook it erratically.

"Partners?" he asked with a tongue wag as his babies began to float about both their heads.

"Partners," she agreed to the cheer of the dolls and the smirk of the seith.

Next Chapter

#Bixanna #Miraxus #Bickslow #Lisanna #Lisanna Strauss #Mirajane #Mirajane Strauss #Laxus #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction #1 of 5

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arzuera · 6 years

Text

No one is going to hurt you pt 1 (Prince Sidon x Reader)

These are getting longer and longer... why can’t i write short things?

Oh this was bad. This was very very bad.

Arrows flew by your head as the sound of horns blared a warning to all creatures in a ten mile radius. The monsters were in pursuit and they did not want to be disturbed. Though the bokoblin were not alone. If it had just been the stupid goblin-like monsters then you would have gotten away already. No. They were teamed up with a band of corrupt Hylians that were keeping the chase going with their intellect when it would have been called off the moment you were out of sight.

Your lungs burned as your feet hit the ground. The poor horse you had caught and tamed years ago laid dead in the plains from the countless arrows it had been struck with. Leaving you to try and escape the group of thugs and monsters on foot. A losing battle. It was only a matter of time before they caught up.

Despite your body’s protests, you ran to the left in an attempt to distract. A large mountain looming above but it didn’t intimidate you. It’s large mass looked like salvation. Horses didn’t like steep cliffs so the bandits would be hard pressed to keep going on their steeds. This was your chance.

You booked it up the mountain as fast as your adrenaline filled body would allow. Ducking behind trees and rocks to keep any stray arrows from hitting their mark. They had already been successful a few times. More monsters joined in on the chase. Chu chus fell out of the trees and you pivoted in a different direction so that you didn’t run into them. All the while you kept climbing higher. You may have been running yourself into a corner but at least you couldn’t hear the thundering steps of the horses anymore. That was a plus.

Rain began to fall from the gray clouds above as you neared the top of the mountain. Making the terrain slick and you almost fell back towards your pursuers on more than one occasion. You reached the top. Running to the edge, your stomach plummeted. All that was below you was a large river with two guard posts connecting to a bridge. A bridge you wouldn’t be able to reach without dying from the fall.

“There she is! She’s got nowhere to go!” The bandits cackled behind and you heard the bokoblins blare their horns again as if to signify that their hunt was successful.

You turned around to face them with your mouth set into a grim line. The men and monsters filled the opposite side of the mountain top. Effectively preventing any means of escape from their side. There was no way you would be able to run by them without being grabbed and you didn’t want to know what they were going to do with you if you were caught. It wasn’t going to be good.

“End of the line. That was some of the most fun I’ve had in a while in a chase. You’ve got some legs on ya, girlie.” One of the bandits stated as he took a few steps forward and you mirrored them back. A bokoblin blared it’s horn again in victory. It was checkmate. “Now come nicely or we ain’t going to be as nice when we get back.” He licked his lips and you shuddered at the implication. Your body feeling dirty from the way he was eyeing you alone. Without thinking, you took another step back only for your foot to slip on the wet rock beneath your feet. Gravity kicked in. You were falling.

Curling into a ball, you bounced off the edge of the rock face as your body plummeted towards the earth. Shouts of surprise were lost to the sky. The scream torn from your throat was deaf to your ears as the sound of roaring water drowned it out. It wasn’t long until you were suddenly enveloped in the rushing water of the river below. Your limbs flailing about in an attempt to right yourself and get to safety. The water carried your body effortlessly as you breached back up for air. Eyes blurry from the water and hair in your vision but somehow you were able to make note of a cave on the side of the river you were closest too.

Finally.

Somewhere to hide.

You pushed your tired limbs just a little more. Fighting against the current until you reached the shore. Hands grasping at anything so that you could pull yourself up and out of the water. The blind panic from the fall giving you the last adrenaline boost you needed to drag your battered body into the back of the cave. Huddling behind a rock so that you weren’t easily noticed.

Your chest heaved as you coughed up water and saliva. Mucus trailing down your upper lip while you sniffled. Blood seeped into your clothes from fresh wounds and spread due to your soaked state. However, you didn’t care. It was a good thing. The more on your skin meant that the pale glow your skin normally had was less noticeable.

With the imminent danger gone, the adrenaline began to leave your system. Leaving your body aching as the wounds it earned made themselves known. Your heart hammering in your chest from the marathon you had just endured.

Hopefully, those thugs would leave you alone. They didn’t seem like the type to search the entire river but then again they had chased you up a mountain from Hyrule Plains. You shivered. Why couldn’t they leave you alone? You didn’t have money. All of your belongings were on your dead horse. You didn’t have anything to give. Why go through all of this trouble? Was it because they knew you weren’t normal? That you had some sort of ability they could use to their advantage? Sure, you had powers but not ones they would benefit from.

Your head fell to rest on the rock that was hiding your body. A break. That was all you needed. Once you could move again, you were going to book it over to the next town and not exist for a few weeks. At least in a town you weren’t completely in danger.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?”

You immediately tensed up at the voice that echoed around in the cave. They had found you. They were going to catch you and then you were going to be used and then die when they were done. This was it. There was nowhere else for you to go.

While trying to make yourself as small as possible, your hands flew across the ground and your body. There had to be something you could use as a weapon. If you were going to be caught then you were going to give them a fight. The only thing you managed to find was the retractable ladle that you had bought from some inventor somewhere. Its handle going inside itself so that it was easier to carry. Oh well, it was better than nothing.

“Hello?” The voice was significantly closer and you readied your weapon. “I know someone is here. You left a trail from the river.”

A large shadow fell over your body as the figure made it’s way to the back of the cave and around to your rock. You shrunk back against the wall. Fear coursing through your veins. This was not one of the bandits that had been pursuing you. None of them had been this big. This was someone new.

The figure moved into the light your body naturally gave off as you brandished the ladle. “Ah! There you are. I was beginning to get worr-”

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” You practically screamed as your entire body shook from cold and fear. This was definitely not one of the men pursuing you. It was a Zora. A LARGE Zora. Red scales lined the top of his body molding into the white of his belly. Jewelry glistened in the light, catching it just right so that it was noticed but not overwhelming.

His golden eyes widened in surprise and he quickly brought his hands up in a submissive gesture. “Okay, okay. It’s alright. Here…” He took a couple steps back before crouching down opposite you in the cave. Enough space that he wasn’t towering above you but not enough for you to run out. Then again, you doubted you would be getting to far on foot so soon. “I heard the horns being blared and saw you fall from the mountain top. Are you okay? It looked like you took a couple hits on the way down.”

Bullshit. Your eyes narrowed at the male zora in front of you suspiciously. No one was this nice to you. They either wanted something or they were going to hurt you. That was how this always turned out. “I’m fine.” You rasped out at him, while not moving from your position.

The golden eyes roamed your body for a moment before he looked you right in the eye again. “All of that red on your clothes is telling me otherwise and I don’t think you are a Zora. So being two colors is probably bad.” He smiled softly at you and your eye twitched a small bit at the joke but you remained resolute. “I think we are getting off on the wrong foot here. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Sidon. Prince of the Zora. I was on Inogo Bridge with my guards when you fell. And you?”

You pursed your lips. “Why should I believe you?” A prince? Seriously? This was a new one.

“Ahah… yes, I can see why that would be suspicious due to what you just went through but I can assure you that it is true.” the small smile on Sidon’s face morphed into a full show-stopping grin that left you even more confused than before.

Your arms were getting tired, even the ladle you held was beginning to feel heavy in your grasp. Tears pricked your eyes. There was no way. This wasn’t happening. “You’re lying! You’re just waiting for me to let my guard down. Then you’ll hurt me too!” The ladle was now shaking in your hold from the effort to keep it pointed towards the Zora. Noted, it wouldn’t do much to him anyway. Why did this keep happening? Why couldn’t you live your life in peace? The tears crested and ran down your cheeks. Why were you always alone?

“Whoa whoa!” Before you could even react, you were being picked up and cradled to the white chest that had been across from you. Your initial instinct to fight kicking in as you struck the ladle weakly against any spot that you could. “Those men have been captured and the bokoblin are dead. You are safe. They will not harm you. Not anymore.” He caught the ladle and you dropped it because there really wasn’t any point in trying anymore. You were in his arms. You were caught. You were at his mercy. Tears continued to fall down your face and the glow in your skin dimmed even further. “I promise as Prince of the Zora, as long as you are in my domain, no one is going to hurt you.”

His voice was sincere. His face betrayed nothing but good intentions. He was trying. He was honestly trying. Sidon’s arms were big and nothing but muscle. If he wanted to hurt you right now then all he would have to do was squeeze. Instead, he held you as if you were the most fragile thing in Hyrule. What was with him? What did he gain from this?

You slumped against him. “How do I know you can keep that promise?” He shifted your body so he could hold you better and started making his way out of the cave.

“Mmm, I guess I’ll just have to prove myself to you. Now how about we see to your wounds?” The showstopping smile was back on his face and you opted to hide your face in his chest.

“Prince Sidon! You found them!”

“The bandits have been apprehended. What are your orders?”

“Take them to the palace for interrogation. There might be more hiding. For now let’s fall back to the domain. This one needs to be checked out.” The hammerhead Zora’s voice was nothing but authoritative and you heard the other two salute in agreement before leaving. Looks like he hadn’t been lying after all. Unless this was an elaborate scheme of some sort.

“Sorry but you’ll have to get wet again. It’ll be faster this way.”

You didn’t have to look at Sidon’s face to know that he was giving you an apologetic smile right now. With a huff, you looked back up and noticed he was about to enter the river. “(y/n).”

“What was that?”

“My name is (y/n).”

#prince sidon #fanfiction #botw #arzuera #drabble #they keep getting longer

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jujubeehan-blog · 7 years

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four times jaehee friendzoned MC and one time it came back to haunt her

honestly?? the entire jaehee route is an artistic representation of kristen stewart holding hands with that girl in paparazzi photos and the media labeling it her “hanging out with her gal pal!”

i love you very very much, sorry this took so long baby @moonlightvrs

♡ ship: jaehee x mc

♡ word count: 1.3k+

♡ warnings: not really angst, mostly just gay frustration; i swear once: half-nudity but no nsfw

five times jaehee kang put MC in the friendzone and one time it came back to haunt her

1. Lesbeans

On the café’s opening day, Jaehee was absolutely radiant. The carefree beam that danced across her features was enough to make MC’s heart feel as though it would shoot out of her chest with love. There was still so much work to be done, but the once perpetually strung-out woman was thriving on the high of cappuccinos and freedom.

The two worked side-by-side to tend to the influx of customers that were flooding in with a little help from some very aggressive advertising from the defender of justice and small businesses, and every once in a while they’d brush hips as they passed by each other, further injecting MC with heart palpitations.

As the last straggler of the day meandered out and Jaehee switched the sign to closed, she leaned against the store with a content sigh, her cheeks flush with hard work and excitement.

Overcome with a sudden bout of happiness, Jaehee surprised both herself and her business partner by throwing her arms around MC with a disbelieving laugh.

“That went better than I could have ever imagined!” she rambled, hugging her close, “It’s all thanks to you, MC.”

“It’s thanks to both of us, Jaehee,” MC managed to respond amidst dying of happiness at the contact, “This place is your baby, you brought it to life. I’m so proud of you.”

Spurred on by the unusual behavior Jaehee displayed, MC worked up the courage to place a chaste kiss on her left cheek.

Jahee’s eyes widened momentarily before she started giggling.

“Wow, I’ve never had such a close friendship before!”

“Friendship?” MC squeaked, “Right, yes, friendship. The friendliest friendship that ever did… friend.”

2. mr. steal yo girl

When Zen got the lead in a huge musical, his two biggest fangirls were, naturally, front and center at the very first show.

Of course, MC was a bigger fan of the serene smile that graced Jaehee’s lips when she watched the performances, but you didn’t hear that from me.

After the show ended, they went backstage to greet their friend and shower him in the compliments he thrived on.

In retrospect, perhaps MC had been laying it on a little thick by jumping into Zen’s arms and proclaiming him to be a musical savant and the face of their generation, but there was no quicker way to get the man she considered an older brother smiling.

Jaehee was much more reserved, as was the norm, but this time she seemed to be a little… put out.

As the two waited for Zen outside the theater while he changed, the chilly air matching Jaehee’s demeanor, MC shoved her hands into the pockets of the coat their silver-haired friend had insisted she put on awkwardly, sparing little glances at the brunette beside her.

Finally, Jaehee cleared her throat, adjusting her collar and turning to face MC.

“I know it’s not really any of my business, but if you and Zen are planning on getting together, I think you should reconsider,” Jaehee spoke concisely.

MC whipped her head to face Jaehee so fast she thought she was going to get whiplash.

Her intentions of immediately denying the implication died out and were replaced with curiosity and a dangerous, dangerous spark of hope.

“Yeah?” she tilted her head to the side, “Why would you say that? Are you… jealous?”

“Jealous?” Jaehee spluttered out, her cheeks turning red, “Of- of course not! It’s just, from one friend to another I can’t see it ending in any other way but heartbreak for yourself and damage to Zen’s career.”

MC bit her tongue so hard she thought she was going to bleed.

3. holly jolly jealousy

At the RFA Christmas party, MC stuffed her face with the HBC that Saeyoung had smuggled in amidst the way-too-fancy hors d’oeuvres and watched on grumpily as yet another man flirted with Jaehee.

The woman was growing comfortable with herself outside of the corporate world, inside and out, and people were starting to take notice. MC was pouting because she had noticed first and why did anyone else think it was okay to flirt with her Jaehee, damn it.

“What’s wrong MC?” Saeyoung snickered, “Girlfriend troubles?”

“Shut up, ugly ass fuckin tomato head,” she threw , before sighing, “if only I had girlfriend troubles.”

At this moment, a flustered looking Jaehee ambled over, looking at MC pleadingly.

“MC, thank God,” she sighed, “if another man flirts with me, can you pretend to be my girlfriend? I have no idea what’s going on, but I-,”

“Yep,” MC linked arms with her without any hesitation, startling Jaehee slightly.

“Thank you so much!” Jaehee smiled, “You’re such a good friend.”

MC discretely flipped off Saeyoung as he cackled wickedly behind them.

4. the great pajama incident

Exhausted from a long day’s work, Jaehee insisted that MC sleep over at her place since it was much closer.

MC set up the movie while Jaehee went to go change into her pajamas, pushing one of Zen’s musicals into the DVD player while popcorn popped in the microwave in the kitchen adjacent to the living room.

“Oh!” Jaehee called out, rushing into the room as the opening credits began to play, “I don’t want to miss the first scene.”

In her haste, she had yet to put on her pajama shirt and thus came out clutching it, only in pajama shorts and a modest bra.

MC started wheezing so hard she had a coughing fit, immediately turning around to face the opposite direction, her face a mess of red.

“What? Oh, sorry did that make you uncomfortable?” Jaehee shrugged on the shirt, a little embarrassed, “I just assumed you’d be fine with it, since we’re friends and all.”

“No problem,” MC squeaked out, barely breathing.

The two stood in awkward silence for a moment before Jaehee cleared her throat.

“Uh, MC?”

“Yep?”

“The popcorn’s burning.”

“Oh God.”

1. we finally made it

Jaehee looked up from cleaning the counter to observe MC laughing loudly with a man near the front of the café, and a pang of something resonated throughout her.

As the man leaned down to kiss MC – her MC – on the forehead, Jaehee scrubbed so hard at the countertop that the paint began to rub off slightly.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as her friend excused herself from the suspicious male and approached her.

“Hey,” MC gave her a cheerful smile, “Will you be alright if I head out for a few hours? I’ll be back before the evening rush.”

“Uh, we’re so busy though,” Jaehee’s voice came out a little squeaky.

MC frowned in confusion, turning around to scan the nearly-empty café.

“I mean, sure,” Jaehee sighed in resignation, “Go have fun.”

“Thanks Jaehee!” MC brightened, “You’re an awesome friend. I’ll pick up a shift on Monday to pay you back.”

Jaehee didn’t understand why that commented made her sick to her stomach as MC linked arms with the man and exited the premises.

In fact, she was so overcome with confusion that she accidentally spilled coffee all over one of their regulars.

“Gee,” the man grumbled, “Your girlfriend is a much better server.”

And just like that, realization crashed over her like a wave of gay.

Without so much as an apology to the man, she quickly untied her apron and tossed it behind the counter, racing out the doors.

It only took her a few minutes of running down the city blocks like a mad-woman to catch up with MC and her date, letting out a cry that caused the two to turn and look at her in shock.

“MC,” she panted slightly from the physical exertion, running a hand through her slightly grown-out hair, “I.. don’t want to be your friend.”

She winced slightly at how blunt it came across, but a look of utter jubilance graced MC’s features.

“Finally,” she mumbled, before crashing her lips to Jaehee’s.

Along the sidelines, MC’s cousin awkwardly looked away.

#may or may not have had to look up how to spell hors d'eourves #im broke guys #anyways I LOVE JAEHEE KANG #jaehee kang one shot #mystic messenger #jaehee kang imagine #rhubarb muffin

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pandabearlikes · 7 years

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Priceless

Characters: You x Baekhyun Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Fluff Music: `*•.♩ ♪ ♫ ♬♥ .¸.•*

My friend spends her fortunes collecting limited edition items, shelving her precious children into containers and containers that span the breadth of her entire room. I sit there, mesmerized by each and every object, her dedication…counting in my head how long it must have taken, counting with my fingers how much money she must have spent...to realize I don’t quite have that many fingers.

Money. Every one loves money, those who say they don’t probably never realized that in this society, everything costs something. A homeless woman shakes a plastic cup in my direction as I race to get onto the morning bus for work.

-Deet- The machine beeps, invisibly withdrawing little bits of my blood and sweat. But I refuse to slave away like this for a manmade system...slave away for materials that will only dust over time. My friend says I’m not adapting, with the implication that one day even the slightest naivety in me will be tainted by the hunger for money, just as it has done with her.

A race. My friends tell me life is a race, a competition, a battle of who can pocket as much in the shortest amount of time with the shortest amount of effort.

“I want to train for a marathon,” I announce to a room of chuckles as they stare me from head to toe.

“Well, you still need money, lots of it even to sign up for the marathon,” they jeer.

I guess, that’s true. Everything costs something. Rolling my sore shoulders, I squeeze through the crowded bus to the exit located at the center of the bus. The little claustrophobic child in me thinks this way, I can escape reality when need be. With all my might, I cling onto the metal pole - an action of contradiction in itself. Escape reality, you say? Then why are you grabbing for dear life?

“Here, sit here,” a silvery voice offers as its owner stands up and invites me to sit down on the seat he once occupied.

I shake my head and turn away, closing myself off from the world that seemed so daunting and merciless. According to the philosophy, everything cost something so his kindness must cost something. And as a broke post college grad, emptied of anything remarkable enough to pay the riches, I settle to declining without a word.

The young man glances up at me, his lower lip protruding a bit, wondering why this strange girl seemed as though he had asked for her bank account number. But he shrugs, guides an elderly woman into the seat, and to my dismay takes the spot next to me. Unlike me, he nonchalantly crosses his arms over his chest and leans his back against the door. Out of reflex, I latch onto his collar and tug. The miscalculated force causes him to crash right into me. Wincing, I blink and peer up, right into his gorgeous puppy eyes. They’re soft but alluring. I’m not sure if I’m breathing anymore.

“It’s...It’s dan-dangerous to lean against the door,” I stutter in between allotted breathes.

Passengers push and pull, locking the two of us into an unfortunate cul-de-sac. The young man lifts an arm up, what he thinks is offering me a protective barrier at a comfortable distance. Instead, I misinterpret it as a flirtatious reenactment of the infamous kabedon move. He throws me a handsome smile and I immediately turn my back to face him. My heart fumbles between thundering out of fear and celebrating in joy to be in the presence of God’s most handsome child. Due to my lost trance, my grip on the metal bar had unknowingly loosened. I heave and fumble to latch on when the bus takes a sharp turn. Instantaneously, the nimble young man catches me by the waist.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he reassures, taking my hand and maneuvering it back onto the metal pole. His touch is gentle but firm. I get lost in admiration at the smoothness of his beautiful hands that seem to mock my heavily battered and chapped ones. Sensing my discomfort, he eases his hold and moves his hand to the space directly above mine. Without my knowledge, a frown graces my lips.

“What stop are you getting off on?” the gentleman asks.

To my better judgement, I answer with honesty. Immediately, I internally reprimand my carelessness. So all it took was a handsome testosterone-filled human to make me drop my guard.

“Oh, same,” he replies.

“Re-really?” I stutter.

“I’ll protect you until then,” he half-jokes.

“Wh-what?”

“I won’t let you fall,” he slates.

No. Of course, I will not fall. I haven’t fallen ever. And I will not let myself fall…because the price of falling is far too much.

Yet, my heart responds with a gracious smile.

“My name is Baekhyun,” he stops me in my tracks when I dash as soon as we reach my bus stop. Rummaging through his coat pockets, he takes out a business card, blows off invisible dust, and hands it to me.

“How much does it cost?” is the first thing that sips from my lips.

Chuckling, he replies, “Free.”

“Free?” I respond, a bit shock, though my brain has already signaled for my hands to accept it.

“Except…” Baekhyun rubs the back of his neck and nervously jokes, “Maybe your name and number.”

My body jerks and eyes widen; I’m seconds from shoving the business card back into his precious beautiful hands.

“Name,” he corrects, “Just a name will do,” he backtracks after sensing my discomfort.

Nodding, I pay him with my name for his hospitality on the bus…a trade that made me feel guilty because it seemed like a lacking payment. But the gentleman accepts, complimenting on how beautiful and unique my name is…and that he’d remember it the next time we meet. As we separate, from the corner of my eyes, I catch him racing to get onto the adjacent bus…

“Byun Baekhyun. Financial Advisor,” the business card read. I cackle a bit at my own naivety. Financial advisor, just the person I needed but didn’t want. Just the wit I needed to get pass this roadblock in my life, but just the reason I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be calculated and sly and cunning, like a fox.

Perhaps, I’m not adapting well.

I catch my fingers bending and unbending, counting away.

Or perhaps, I’m already becoming more calculated than I think I am…

“Hey!” Baekhyun greets, cheerfully gracing my name with much more worth than I thought I’d ever mean to anyone, much less a kind stranger.

“Hi, Baekhyun-ssi,” I shyly bow. Already, my cheeks flush, betraying my interest, which growing up, my mother taught, would surely cost me.

Grinning at my reply, the young man automatically positions himself as my personal bodyguard. Today, I hesitate before spinning around. It’s a quiet but calm bus ride, just as I’ve always wished. I could sense a few times that Baekhyun wanted to initiate conversation but feared scaring me. Internally, I cursed my anti-social personality.

“Thank you,” I bow in gratitude and voluntarily hand him a folded up piece of paper for his kind services.

Slightly amused and incredibly curious, he accepts my payment. I flee away before I could see his reaction. But the buzzing of my phone right after answers my curiosity. A silly emoticon greets me as soon as I open the device.

“Mornin’ :)” Baekhyun texts me the next day.

“Good morning,” I reply with professionalism.

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” he alerts.

“Okay,” I type back, rocking back and forth on my feet at the bus stop. Three minutes later, the bus arrives and to my dismay, my male companion hasn’t shown up yet. “The bus is here,” I message.

“Wait for me :(,” he replies.

“What do I get for waiting?” I automatically type. Instantly, I regret it, shoving my phone back into my pocket, because I realize I’ve really become more calculated than I had hoped. Slouching, I drag myself onto the bus. I’m midway through pushing through the crowd when I feel my phone vibrate against my thigh.

I fail to suppress a giggle when I open the message to a selfie of Byun Baekhyun’s handsome face. I spend too many moments longer admiring the photo that I forgot this is supposed to be the payment for my waiting. With a gasp, I dash to exit the bus but the floor beneath me had began to move. From the window, I catch a sprinting Baekhyun growing smaller and smaller until he is forced to give up in a fit of pants, huffing and puffing for air.

“:(,” he texts.

“Sorry,” I type back.

“Send me a picture of you,” he surprises me by requesting. Though hesitant, I figure it is to make things even. Since I failed to wait for him, despite his payment, I had to pay him back. Fixing my hair out of my face as best as possible, I snap a quick selfie and send it to him.

The next day, I arrive to a suave and yawning Byun Baekhyun at the bus station. At the sight of my arrival, he immediately straightens up, his entire stature beaming at my presence. Automatically, I bashfully turn away and out of habit, loop a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Mornin',” he chirps, rocking back and forth on his heels as if he’s just been gifted boxes of chocolate.

“Hey,” I reply back and make note, “You’re early today…”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to miss you— or I mean the bus again,” Baekhyun nervously chuckles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. A tinge of pink dusts his cheeks.

“I see,” I throw him a soft smile, oblivious to his stutter because I’m lost in a world of nerves, myself.

Naturally, we make our way to the doors near the center of the bus. He positions himself to stand guard over my smaller physique. Today, I surprise both of us by not turning away, though, I can’t seem to be brave enough for direct eye contact so I settle on fidgeting with the tassels of my coat and staring at his briefcase. Must be full of money or documents that easily exchanges for cash six times its thickness… I shake my head and frown.

“Hm?” Baekhyun dips his head to observe my expression. Instantly, my body jolts, my cheeks burn up at the close proximity. “Ah, the roads are a bit bumpier today, right?” he straightens himself and interprets. “The government needs to stop wasting money and drilling dayum holes everywhere,” he mumbles under his breath, which causes a giggle to escape from my lips. In turn, a grin spreads across Baekhyun’s face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” the gentleman requests at the point of separation.

“Mhmm,” I gift him a grin and nod. “What…what do I owe you today?”

“Hm?” he raises his brow, a little amused by the oddity of my calculations. Flattening his lips, he rolls his wrist and glances at his watch. “We both got here ten minutes earlier than normal. Care for some morning coffee to wake our brains up?” he suggests.

“Okay,” I nod in agreement. I tag along with him to the nearby coffee shop.

As soon as he made his order, I prance forth and almost shove the money in the cashier’s face. She blinks while Baekhyun attempts to push my hand away to pay with his credit card.

“I still owe you for today,” I remark.

Both his brows lifts and it takes him a few seconds to make sense of the situation. “You don’t owe me anything,” he answers, swiping his card through the machine. With his other hand, he personally retracts my outstretch palms and stuffs them and the contents back into my pocket. I blink and he throws me one of his cute puppy smiles.

“How much do I owe you for the coffee?” I question when he hands me one of the steaming espressos.

“Be careful, it’s hot,” he, instead, warns.

“Hi,” I beam. My little legs giddily kick back and forth at the sight of Byun Baekhyun.

“Morning,” he greets with a wink that causes my feet to almost lose balance.

“You’re such a good boyfriend,” an elderly lady compliments after observing Baekhyun holding his arm out to block a drunk man from collapsing over me.

The corner of his lip twitches. He turns away but from the bus door’s reflection, I catch his timid grin. I don’t know why I also don’t deny the misinformation.

A season passes by just like that. Then another. With students out from school, morning hours on the bus become less crowded. Taking my hand, Baekhyun guides me through the aisle and we settle down on a pair of seats near the center.

“You’re extra cute today,” he teases.

I stifle back a giggle and turn away.

It doesn’t occur to me that our hands remained interlocked through the bus ride, until it was time to leave and he easily guided me to the exit.

“Mornin’, Beautiful,” Baekhyun grins, toothily.

“Good Morning…um, Hand…” I rub my neck, “…Some…”

The self-proclaimed body guard almost chokes on his coffee. I try to make a run for it because that must have been the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever….but the bus arrives. Baekhyun grabs hold of my wrist, slips his fingers through mine, and tugs me onto the bus.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun questions, figuring out that I was troubled as soon as I showed up at the bus station with inadvertent sigh.

“Hm…nothing…” I try to dismiss as we get onto our ride.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he casually counters.

Today, the bus is abnormally crowded due to there being a fair at the downtown area. Baekhyun and I automatically head to our spot near the doors. Holding onto my backpack straps, I continue to sulk. Only the scent of Baekhyun’s cologne instills hope back into me.

“Hm, what’s up?” my male companion questions, tapping me lightly on the tip of my nose.

“It’s not a big deal,” I ponder, chewing on my inner cheeks.

“Well, it’s bothering my Little Sunshine so it’s a big deal,” he concludes. My chest bubbles and tummy flip flops to the nickname.

“Just…just student loans…I’ve been paying for a year and the numbers seem to never move,” I admit.

“Ahh, I see,” my crush nods in acknowledgement. Unknown to either of us, his hand had naturally found mine with a squeeze. “I’m the same,” he informs.

“What?” my eyes widen, baffled by his statement. “How? You’re a financial advisor. Aren’t you really good with these things?”

Baekhyun lets out a chuckle. “Well, not really. I just try my best to come up with plausible financial agendas for clients in different situations. I don’t see myself in any tight situation to need to worry about my student loans just yet.”

I blink.

“Do you have a plan?” he squeezes my hand again and questions.

I nod, “Yeah, I’ve been paying for it monthly.”

“Then what are you stressing about?”

“Just that, it seems most of my friends aren’t in debt anymore and I’m just —”

“Don’t think about it that way though. Some people have parents that pay for them. Some had scholarships, some were lucky enough to nail high paying jobs off the bat. As long as you have a plan that’s yours, you are fine,” he reassures, “Go at your own pace.”

The frown on my lips flip. “I guess, you’re right.”

“Honestly,” he chuckles, “I’m not even sure how much I still owe. I’m on auto payment.”

My eyes bulge, “For real? I thought people in your field would calculate their money down to the last penny.”

The remark causes the finance grad to fall to another fit of chuckles. “Money isn’t that important to me,” he notes. I stare at him like he grew a horn at the center of his forehead.

That day, I watched as he rushed to catch the adjacent bus after he had thought I entered my work building.

“Mornin’, Babe,” he sneaks in the label that causes both of us to flatten our lips in attempts at suppressing our foolish grins. Instead, I playfully smack him on his abdomen. “aHH, my nutella abs,” he jokes, rubbing his belly.

Covering my smile, I skip ahead and head onto the bus. With a chuckle, my handsome beau tags along, slipping into the seat next to mine…also, slyly slipping his hand through mine. I surprise both of us by turning around with my eyes narrowed into slits. Baekhyun blinks.

“What? We’ve been holding hands everyda—”

“Why do you always chase after the adjacent bus right after dropping me off?” I interrogate.

“Oh,” he nervously rubs his neck and laughs.

“I Google Mapped your work place and you’re supposed to get off one stop before mine,” I continue with raised brow.

“Oh…hah…about that…” Baekhyun awkwardly shuffles his feet. “…because I just want to accompany you longer…” Cheesepuff. You cheesepuff!!!

I eye him half suspicious and half in awe.

“So you take the bus back, everyday?”

“Yeah, just one stop. I could totally walk but I’m lazy,” he shrugs. More like it’s take-the-bus-and-make-it-on-the-dot or walk-and-be-late-to-work…but he’d never admit it.

“That’s wasting money,” I lecture.

“Well, it’s worth it for me,” Baekhyun responds, bringing our intertwined hands up to his lips. He plants a sweet kiss on the back of my hand, sending butterflies fluttering in frenzy within my heart. Out of shyness, I turn away to hide my cherry red cheeks.

Though I’d rather deny, all my life I had been calculating. Calculating how many days I had left to live from the day the doctor held me in his arms and shook his head, calculating how much I owed my mother because she kept a journal of every penny she spent on me, calculating what percent tile I must achieve on the next exam to receive an A on my report card, calculating how much I owed a friend for their kindness, because it always had to be more from my side or else it’s not fair...or else I’d drown in heedful guilt...calculating, calculating…forever calculating.

...when there’s nothing to count. Life didn’t work in numerals.

“Sometimes, the best things in life are priceless,” Baekhyun explains.

I spin my head around to respond. Our lips meet. A half gasps rid from my throat but I hold my breath and stay still as a statue. Grinning, Baekhyun closes his eyes and eases us into a deeper and more affectionate kiss. Like a broken record, the brain races to calculate, but my heart wins the marathon. Slowly, I begin to kiss him back.

“Like you,” he finishes, pressing his forehead against mine, “One of a kind and priceless.”

A/N: Dropping another one-shot ^-^ If you guys haven’t, go read Busy Nights ft. Sehun, the scenario I posted yesterday.

Hope you guys liked this scenario! Do you guys want more? Be sure to follow, like, comment, spam my inbox :)

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