#im slowly starting to like Vortex

[cosmique-oddity]

*cry because of too much feelings*

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

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

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

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

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Seven

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, strong language, more angst (IM SORRY IT'LL GET BETTER SOON I PROMISE).

Notes — Welcome to Oracle Red Bull Racing, Amelia Brown.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2020

The office was quiet in the way only offices designed for genius could be; not sterile, but reverent. Drafting boards and CAD monitors hummed quietly in the background, interrupted only by the soft tick of a mechanical clock that someone had insisted on keeping analogue.

Amelia sat stiffly in the chair opposite Adrian Newey.

He was perched on a stool beside a massive whiteboard, sleeves rolled up, fingers stained faintly with pen ink, as though he’d been sketching ideas directly into the fabric of his shirt. His presence was oddly... nerve-racking. 

Neither of them spoke for the first few minutes.

Amelia rolled her golf ball between her hands in her lap, trying not to bounce her knee. Adrian made a few marks on a fresh sheet of paper, muttering under his breath. It sounded like a stream of formulaic gibberish to anyone else. To her, it was almost a lullaby.

He paused. Looked at her. “Do you have any thoughts?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear them.”

Adrian hummed, and then there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I will always listen. I will also always tell you when you are wrong.”

She swallowed, then nodded. Then she gestured to his paper pad. “You’re already sketching the '21 nosecone?”

“Yes. The frontal vortex targets under the new regs are… absolutely maddening. They’ll make cooling a nightmare.” He muttered. 

She shifted forward, almost involuntarily. “Mm. Not if you separate the low-pressure bleed early and feed it into the underside of the side-pod. It could trick the wake into thinking it’s interacting with a full-body airflow.”

He went very still. 

“Interesting,” he said slowly, standing and crossing to the nearest drafting board. He didn’t ask her to explain it again. He just started drawing. She stood too, walking around the conference table in order to stand at his side. Without looking at her, he handed her a pen. 

She made a face at it. “I like red.” 

He didn’t say anything. Just took the black pen back and found her a red one. 

By the time lunchtime rolled around, they had filled three boards, made seven sketches, and the early formation of a concept that wouldn’t just survive under the 2021 regs; it would thrive.

They hadn’t spoken much, not conversationally. Just fragments.

“This doesn’t breathe well at speed.”

“What if we taper the upper control arm here instead?”

“Why does this remind me of the '98 car?”

But somehow, it worked.

By mid-afternoon, Adrian glanced up at her from the schematic they were both hunched over.

“You think in shapes,” he said.

She blinked at him. “You think in sound.”

He smiled, and it was full of promise. “We will make a wonderful pair, Miss Brown.”

She let out a quiet breath. “Oh. Good. I was afraid that you would regret spending three million pounds on me.”

He stared at her for a long moment before laughing shortly. “No regret, Miss Brown. Not a single one.” 

For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel anxious. Or lonely. Or burning with the guilt of abandoning McLaren, the team that was synonymous with her family name. 

She tucked the golf ball back into her pocket. “I’ll draw up a more formal aero flow map tonight.”

“Don’t bother,” he said, flipping to a new page. “We’ll build it first. Then reverse-engineer the explanation.”

She grinned, sharp and fast and excited. “We can do that?”

“We can do anything we want.” He told her. 

— 

Christian pushed open the door to the technical office with the kind of hesitant curiosity reserved for someone who was pretty sure they’d told everyone to go home six hours ago.

The light was still on.

At first, he thought maybe the cleaners had left it by mistake. But as he stepped inside, the faint scratch of pencil on paper, the rustle of blueprints, and the hum of two very intense brains in quiet dialogue stopped him dead in his tracks.

Adrian was barefoot now, barefoot, perched on a wheeled chair with one leg pulled up under him like some kind of engineering gremlin, holding a scale model in one hand and gesturing toward it with the other, mid-monologue.

Amelia was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a yellow golf ball tucked beneath her heel, grease-smudged notebook balanced on her knee, jotting notes at lightning speed while murmuring confirmations like, “Yeah, but the boundary layer separation’s going to collapse here—unless we change the outwash angle…”

Neither of them noticed Christian standing in the doorway.

The room was covered in paper. The whiteboards had no white left. Someone, probably Adrian, had scrawled equations on the glass wall. There was a half-eaten croissant on the radiator. Half of the work was done in black ink. The other half was done in red. 

He took one silent step backward.

Paused.

Then slowly, quietly, pulled the door closed behind him.

From inside, he could just barely hear Adrian’s voice, “Did I ever tell you about the time I built a full wind tunnel model out of my wife’s hairdryer and a vacuum tube?”

Amelia sucked in a breath. “Did it work?”

“It blew the roof off my shed.”

She laughed, genuinely, full of lightness.

Christian exhaled and reached for his phone.

—

iMessage — 00:45am

Christian Horner

We are going to become world champions. 

Helmut Marko

How can you know?

Christian Horner

Newey is barefoot. His intern is laughing. 

Helmut Marko

Mein Gott.

— 

The drive home from Milton Keynes had been quiet; just the low hiss of the car heater and the soft murmur of the radio.

It had been her first week working at Red Bull Racing. She’d stayed in Max’s flat, the one he kept in Milton Keynes but only used when he was in town for sim sessions. 

The high of her first week was still humming under her skin; the buzz of purpose, of being understood, but underneath that, exhaustion tugged at her bones. She felt stretched thin. Too much stimulus, too many new faces. 

But the moment she stepped through the front door, into the warm, lemon-honey air of the house she’d grown up in, none of that mattered.

Her mum was in the kitchen, back turned, humming softly to the radio.

Amelia didn’t say anything.

She dropped her bag quietly, kicked off her shoes, walked straight over and folded herself into her mother’s arms from behind, pressing her forehead between her shoulder blades, breathing her in.

Tracy stilled. Just for a moment. Then she reached back, tugging Amelia around until she could hold her properly; one hand at the back of her head, the other wrapped around her shoulders, thumb rubbing slow circles into her jumper.

“Hello, darling,” she whispered. “I missed you.”

Amelia pressed closer, her cheek against her mum’s collarbone. “I missed you too.”

They stood there like that for a long time, the hum of the radio filling the silence between them, a wooden spoon tapping gently against the edge of a pan.

“I saw the article,” Tracy said eventually, voice soft. “And the photos.”

Amelia tensed.

Another piece had gone live, following the Motorsport.com exclusive. Red Bull had shared her official announcement — complete with photographs of her in team gear, standing in the middle of Max and Alex. 

Tracy didn’t let her pull away. “You looked very professional. And happy.” 

“I am,” she said, too fast. Then again, slower. “I am. I just… I’m wishing that he wouldn’t make it so hard.”

Tracy sighed into her hair. “Your father’s not angry with you, love. Not really. He’s angry with himself. He had no idea that you were even receiving offers, let alone considering any.”

Amelia swallowed. Shrugged. “He didn’t want me at McLaren. He never offered. I gave him every chance to.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Tracy pulled back just far enough to look her in the eye. “And you were right not to wait forever. You did the brave thing. You put yourself first. I’m proud of you.”

Amelia blinked fast. “I’m not used to that,” she admitted. “Putting myself first. It feels… selfish.”

Tracy brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. “No. Not selfish. It’s how you grow. You’re building race cars with Adrian bloody Newey. That’s something to be incredibly proud of.”

Amelia smiled, weakly. “They call me Mini Newey. All of the engineers. Christian. Max thinks that it’s funny.”

Tracy chuckled, pulling her into a tight squeeze again. “They should call you Better Newey.”

That pulled a real laugh out of her, small and sore and soft.

“Now,” Tracy said, letting her go, “go change into your favourite pyjamas and let me feed you. I bet you haven’t eaten a real meal all week.”

“I’ve been living on machine coffee and stale pastries,” Amelia admitted, already peeling off her jumper. 

Tracy shuddered. “Criminal behaviour. Go on, love. I’ll have dinner on the table in ten.”

As Amelia padded toward the stairs, warmth blooming in her chest, she heard her mum call gently after her. “He’ll come around. He loves you too much not to.”

She didn’t answer, but she nodded once, before disappearing up the stairs.

— 

iMessage — 01:43am

Lando Norris did u leave bc of me like. mclaren it’s okay if u did i just. i just need to know feels like maybe u did and idk. i feel shit also this is prob a bad time. i had like 5 beers and a shot of smth blue was v blue. tasted like acid

Amelia Brown No. Not because of you. You don’t matter to me that much.

Lando Norris ouch ok but like partly bc of me?

Amelia Brown Not everything is about you, Lando.

Lando Norris but some things are

Amelia Brown You started ignoring me. For no reason. Then I got a job designing a future championship-winning car. Those two things are unrelated.

Lando Norris when did u become so meannnn :(

Amelia Brown I’m not being mean. You’re just used to me being quiet when people treat me badly.

Lando Norris i didn’t mean to treat u badly i just panicked everything was getting weird and real and i didn’t know what to say

Amelia Brown So you said nothing. That’s still a choice.

Lando Norris yeah. i know. i’m sorry i miss u sometimes just thought u should know that

Amelia Brown That doesn’t change anything.

Lando Norris yeah i figured ok

Amelia Brown Go home. You are going to feel terrible tomorrow morning. 

Lando Norris already do thanks i guess goodnight mini newey 

Amelia Brown Don’t call me that 

— 

Amelia sat cross-legged on the floor with her laptop open in front of her, the Red Bull Racing CAD interface glowing on the screen. Max was half-stretched out on the couch behind her, a bowl of strawberries balanced on his stomach and a bottle of Heineken in hand.

“Okay,” Amelia said, tapping the trackpad. “Front wing redesign is about eighty percent locked. We’re still playing with DRS and airflow under braking, but I think what we’ve got is going to make the car ridiculously sharp into corners.”

Max took a sip of his beer, watching her over the rim. “Ridiculously sharp sounds nice.” He noted. 

“It’ll bite if you get lazy,” she warned him.

He shrugged. “So, just like you.”

Amelia didn’t even look up at him. Over the past few weeks of working with him, she’d learned how to decipher his tones — he was teasing her. “I’m not lazy. You’d die without me.”

He tossed a strawberry at her. She caught it and took a bite.

She turned back to her laptop, sighed, and opened up the email thread that she and Adrian had going. 

Max cleared his throat. “Ah, have you talked to your dad yet?”

Amelia’s fingers froze over the trackpad. “No.”

Max nodded. “He’s still not talking to you?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’. 

“Your mom?” He questioned. 

“She’s trying. He’s just… stubborn. You know what he’s like.” Amelia exhaled. “He thinks I betrayed him.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know that now.” She rubbed her temple, leaned her head back against the couch. “But I also think I became inconvenient. It was easier when I was just the kid who wanted to build toy cars in the corner. Now I’m—”

“Mini Newey,” Max offered, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She groaned. “Max, stop.”

He rolled his eyes. “You are, though. And you’re building my car, so I’m not complaining.” A pause. “Have you talked to Norris?”

Amelia blinked slowly, then shut her laptop with a quiet snap. “He messaged me two weeks ago. Drunk. Asked if I left McLaren because of him.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Of course not.” She scoffed. What a ridiculous idea. “He just… doesn’t get it. He thinks that everything is about him.”

Max laughed. “He’s nineteen. His brain is still soft.”

“I’m also nineteen,” she muttered, tipping her head back against the couch to look up at him. “I think he’s just emotionally illiterate.”

Max blinked, then grinned. “Tell him that to his face. I’d pay to see it.”

“You’re not a world champion yet,” she shot back. “You don’t get to make demands like that.”

He leaned in, until their faces were almost level. “I will be. And when I am, I’ll buy you a stupidly expensive watch for every podium we get.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You say that now.”

“Mark my words,” he said, puffing his chest in mock pride.

They sat there for a while — not quite friends, not just colleagues. Something in-between. Teammates in the truest sense. Bound by a shared obsession: a championship. A car so fast it betrayed the law of physics.

“I miss him,” she said quietly.

Max exhaled through his nose, slow and even. “He’s a nice boy. Stupid, but nice.”

“I know.” Her voice was barely a breath.

— 

iMessage — 18:15

Fernando Alonso How has your first month at RB been? Do I need to make any angry phone calls?

Amelia Brown It’s been great. Everything’s going better than I could’ve imagined. I’m already making progress. Adrian and I work really well together.

Fernando Alonso I told you so, did I not? You two are very alike!

Amelia Brown It’s a perfect fit, actually. I feel like I’m finally being heard.

Fernando Alonso Good, good. I knew it. You made the right choice. And now, you’re three million pounds richer. That helps too.

Amelia Brown Haha, yes. Very much. I would've probably taken £5, so, thank you for handling the negotiation for me.

Fernando Alonso Mi Nina, for your talents, they would have paid three billion.

Amelia Brown I miss you so much. When are you coming to visit?

Fernando Alonso Soon. I’ve got some meetings in London next month.

Amelia Brown Anything exciting?

Fernando Alonso You’ll be the first to know if there is.

Amelia Brown :)

— 

Lando stood with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders hunched, posture defensive. Across the polished meeting table, Zak leaned back in his chair, arms folded tightly over his chest, eyes fixed on the floor like it might offer him an answer he hadn’t already lost.

The silence had stretched too long. 

“She’s really gone, huh?” Lando finally muttered.

Zak didn’t look up. “Yes.”

Lando blinked hard. He wasn’t sure what he expected; some kind of denial, maybe. Some reassurance that there was still a version of this where she came back. That maybe Red Bull was just a phase. A test. Something to prove a point.

“She left a hole here,” Zak said eventually. “Not just in the team. In the culture. She was…” he paused, trying to find a word that wouldn’t sound too sentimental. “I didn’t realise how important she was to the team. How much she was involved in.”

Lando didn’t answer right away. His jaw was tight. “We all let her down.”

Zak looked at him then. Really looked at him. “You liked her.”

It wasn’t a question. Not judgment, either. Just a fact. Like pointing out a flat tire or a burning building.

Lando flinched. “Yeah. I really liked her.”

“You shouldn’t have listened to us,” Zak said quietly. “Any of us. You should’ve fought for her.”

“I couldn’t.” Lando’s voice was sharp, brittle. “I was scared. And stupid.”

Zak let out a rough, humourless laugh. “And I was selfish. I never gave her the recognition she deserved.” He paused. “She was the brain behind the Mercedes deal.”

Lando’s head jerked up, eyes wide.

Zak’s voice dropped, heavy with something close to guilt. “She pulled it all together, handed it to me in a file with start-to-finish instruction. Never asked for credit. I knew she wanted more, deserved more, but I didn’t give it to her. Not because she wasn’t ready. Because I wasn’t brave enough.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“I didn’t want to be the one who gave her a shot, because I knew what people would say. Nepotism. Favouritism. They’d talk about her name before they ever looked at her work. And I thought I was protecting her from that.” He shook his head. “But I wasn’t. I was just holding her back.”

Lando stared at him. Silent.

There it was.

The ugly truth of it all.

Lando swallowed thickly. “She was never going to stay.”

“No,” Zak said. “No. I don’t think so.” 

Lando ran a hand over his face. 

She had belonged here once. She had. And they’d both let her feel like she didn’t.

Now she was designing the future with the enemy.

And they just had to sit back and watch it happen.

— 

The paddock buzzed with the usual pre-season chaos; the rhythmic whirr of engines, the sharp sound of tires scraping against the asphalt, and the chatter of team members huddled in tight circles. 

Amelia stood near the Red Bull garage, her posture stiff but her eyes alert, scanning the familiar sea of cars and faces.

It was the start of the 2020 season, and everything felt both familiar and brand new. The sharp smell of fuel lingered in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of freshly waxed cars. But this time, she wasn’t in McLaren orange or one of her father’s old team shirts; this time, she was in Red Bull team gear. Black and dark blue with that iconic bull on her chest, the Red Bull Racing logo proud on her back.

And tucked around her neck, a pair of navy blue Red Bull ear defenders. 

She glanced to her left. Max was chatting animatedly with Christian, the two of them gesturing towards the car as the crew worked around it. Adrian was nearby, bent over a laptop, his face creased in concentration. Amelia would soon be next to him, diving into the data and throwing out her ideas. But for a moment, she lingered at the edge of the paddock, trying to ease herself into this new, new, new. 

Amelia’s gaze drifted toward the McLaren garage, even though she knew she shouldn’t be looking. There was Lando, standing with her dad, his usual smile present but different. Amelia tried not to flinch.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her ear defenders, the cool plastic grounding her, just a little. She had left her golf ball in her office, determined not to need it. 

Her eyes flicked back to the Red Bull car, sleek and aggressive in its design. It was more than just metal and carbon fiber. It was partly her work, her heart and soul poured into something tangible. 

And then, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a camera crew approaching her.

Her stomach dropped. 

The journalist’s voice reached her first, though she barely registered the words. “Amelia, first season with Red Bull Racing. You’ve been working behind the scenes for a while, but now you're here, in the paddock, in full Red Bull gear. How does it feel to be wearing navy blue now, after spending so much time with your father’s team, McLaren?”

Before she could formulate any kind of response, a familiar presence appeared beside her. Max.

He stepped in without hesitation, his body language calm and protective as he leaned slightly into her space. His gaze shifted to the interviewer, who looked briefly excited at the new addition. 

"Need an out?" Max asked her, his voice low enough only for her to hear. His stance was relaxed, but there was something in the way he held himself; a quiet assurance that, if she needed him to, he would get her away. 

The camera crew hovered expectantly, but Max didn’t flinch. He didn’t let the pressure reach her. He stayed right there, like a grounding force beside her.

"Amelia?" The interviewer prompted, waiting for her response.

Max’s eyes softened as he glanced at her. “Say whatever feels right,” he murmured, offering her a smile that was small but understanding. “You don’t owe them anything.”

For a moment, Amelia felt the tension drain from her. This wasn’t a performance. She didn’t have to give them the perfect soundbite. She could speak her truth, on her own terms.

She took a deep breath and, feeling Max still there, solid and supportive beside her, looked directly at the interviewer.

“It feels powerful,” she said simply, her voice steady but soft. It was the truth. For the first time, it felt like she was owning her decisions, not just navigating them. Powerful because this was her journey now. Because, despite everything, she was in total control.

The interviewer didn’t push for more, probably sensing the finality in her words. But the moment lingered for a second longer, like they were all collectively taking a breath.

Max gave her a subtle nod of approval, his lips twitching into a smirk. 

And, just as quickly, the two of them turned and started walking away, the cameras still rolling behind them, but it didn’t matter. Amelia’s shoulders relaxed, a weight lifting, and her feet carried her toward the garage.

— 

iMessage — 19:51

Lando Norris I’m sorry. I know that’s not good enough but I am I’m really sorry. And I want you to know that I’m happy for you. I’m not being sarcastic. You looked beautiful on camera. I’m glad Max was there with you. I wish it had been me.

Amelia Brown Congratulations on the podium finish, Lando.

— 

The morning sun was bright over the circuit as Max and Amelia walked into the F3 paddock. Amelia was wearing a denim dress. Max, in his typical laid-back skinny jeans and plain shirt, had his hands in his pockets and a baseball cap perched low over his eyes. He was always eager to watch the younger drivers, always curious about who might be the next big thing in motorsport.

She was more used to the engineering side of things, but she’d been a fan of motorsport in general since she was a child. The thrill of being here just to watch was amazing. 

They settled into the VIP viewing platform. The race kicked off with an energy that seemed to buzz in the air. Engines roared and the young drivers raced past, navigating the tight turns and high-speed straights with a determination that made Amelia feel the thrill of the sport she’d always loved.

As the race unfolded, Amelia’s eyes were drawn to car 81; Oscar Piastri. The young Australian was carving through the field with an almost eerie calm, moving up with a precision that belied his years. He raced like someone who had been here for ages, his every move instinctive yet calculated, as though he had been born for this.

Amelia felt that familiar pull. It was the same feeling she had gotten watching Lando in Formula Renault all those years ago — a sense that she was witnessing something special. Piastri surged ahead, eventually crossing the line first, claiming the win in the season opener.

“Damn,” Max muttered, impressed. “Kid’s fast.”

Amelia leaned in closer to the barrier, watching as Piastri celebrated with his team, their joy radiating from every hug and high-five. She turned to Max, who was watching her closely, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Don’t get too attached,” he teased. “He’s not yours to claim yet.”

“I’m not trying to claim him,” she replied, her tone steady, though there was an undeniable certainty in her voice. “But I will. When the time comes. And I think...” She trailed off, watching Piastri for a moment longer. “It will come for him very soon.”

Max grinned, shaking his head fondly. “Always thinking ahead, kleine zus.”

Amelia’s eyes remained on the Australian driver, a quiet feeling settling deep in her chest. She couldn’t quite place it.

“His manager?” she asked, her gaze still on Oscar as he laughed with his team, the world around him seeming to pause for a moment.

“Mark Webber,” Max replied, his voice neutral, but his expression unreadable.

“Ah.” Amelia’s lips tipped upward into an amused smile. Mark Webber, who had been central to Red Bull's rise in the sport. She glanced sideways at Max, then back at Oscar. “Mark Webber,” she repeated, her voice soft. “It’s strange, isn't it? Fernando and Mark; rivals. And now, I’m working at Red Bull thanks to Fernando, and Oscar is under Mark’s wing.” She looked at Max, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Formula One is a funny place.”

Max grinned, clearly entertained by the thought. “You can make connections out of anything, can’t you?”

Amelia let out a soft laugh, her gaze returning to the young driver in the distance. “I guess I do,” she said, her voice quieter now, a subtle sense of realisation setting in. “And somehow, they always seem to circle back to Red Bull.”

It was funny how Formula 1 worked that way: legacies, rivalries, and new beginnings always intertwined.

—

iMessage — 00:42am

Amelia Brown

Are you in Woking?

Lando Norris

Yes…?

Amelia Brown

I’m home alone. Come over. I am still angry at you, but I’m ready to talk to you now.

Lando Norris

Ok im omw like right now

NEXT CHAPTER

[giiyus]

the tornado by owl city is c!tubbo's song and c!tubbo's only (or in other words im bored so let's analyze the tornado in a c!tubbo lense)

—

It was just startin' to drizzle as I walked out the door

But I've delivered papers in the rain like that before

3:30 in the morning, I was happy as a lark

As I grabbed my bike and rode into the dark

i think of this as him first arriving to the dsmp as his innocent, bubbly self. the phrase "happy as a lark" showing that he's overjoyed to be there and that he is carefree and unaware of the grimmer realities about to take place ("rode into the dark")

I pedaled through the neighborhood, the weather on my mind

The wind was pickin' up and howlin' louder all the time

The sky churned like a cauldron and the distant thunder roared

And I knew that I was in for quite a storm

this is the early dsmp arc, before the lmanburg war for independence. tubbo is getting into some small conflicts, including the disc war, and wondering what's happening in the caravan with wilbur and tommy. he doesn't know it yet, but both the disc war and wilbur/tommys caravan shit would get him into so much future trouble that is soon approaching hence the "the distant thunder roared".

i see the lyric "and i knew that i was in for quite a storm" as me reflecting on tubbo's story because even though in some extent he knew that it wasn't going to be easy to declare independence from dream, he did not know how big that conflict and the following conflicts would be and affect him, but i do (and he was most definitely in for quite a big horrific storm)

A little rain never hurt no one, so I kept pressin' on

And I tried to tell myself it's always darkest before the dawn

shit is starting to get real in the lmanburg war

Lighting struck an oak tree as I leapt off my bike

The sirens started wailing, but there was no good place to hide

I knew without a doubt there was a twister touchin' down

So I crawled into a culvert to wait it out

enter schlatt and his administration/tubbo acting as a spy

culvert = his tunnels from schlatt to pogtopia

The little bit of courage I had left was almost gone

But I tried to tell myself it's always darkest before the dawn

execution, he still tries to see the good in everyone though

And then the nightmare started, it got deafeningly loud

Every fiber in me screamed out, but I couldn't make a sound

The whirling of a vortex, a violent carousel

It sounded like a freight train was draggin' me to hell

lmanburg destroyed first time leading into c!tubbo exiling tommy, "deafeningly loud" = tnt raining on the city, fireworks hitting everywhere (trauma alert)

And this was my prayer

"Save me from this terrible nightmare"

he is utterly alone, everyone calls him schlatt and a villain, he was this happy go lucky guy turned traumatic devastating teenager

That was when I saw my family with my eyes shut real tight

Would they know how much I loved them if this was how I died?

No, I vowed I'd not be murdered by a monster in the sky that night

c!tubbo doesn't end everything?? lmanburg destroyed AGAIN (seriously they love exploding that shit)

"murdered by a monster in the sky that night" referring to the tnt raining down on lmanburg

But if I went home to heaven, at least that's where I'd belong

Yeah, I tried to tell myself it's always darkest before the dawn

So I kept hangin' on

I kept hangin' on

he keeps persevering, the creation of snowchester (his new supposed safe haven) is made

The shadows slowly melted as I was hunkered down

'Til at last the worst was over, the storm was dyin' out

I crept out of that culvert and I went weak in the knees

'Cause what I saw was a somber sight to see

they start the finale disc war, there's fighting. "somber sight" being the place where dream was going to kill tubbo (the prison)

There was nothin' but destruction and wreckage in that town

Cars were upside down and houses leveled to the ground

A twisted trampoline was hangin' from the power lines

I blinked a tear back 'cause I felt lucky to be alive

finale disc war, dream didn't kill him. i think that even though he was passively suicidal in this, he felt a sliver of hope that things would look up. "a twisted trampoline " part relating to c!dream losing two canon lives and being stuck in the prison for (supposedly) forever

And that was how I learned to live when you can run, but you can't hide

How to feel trapped in a tunnel but come out the other side

'Cause with all the stormy weather in the world, you learn to take life one storm at a time

You don't have to be afraid

And now when there's bad weather on the way, I stay calm

more snow chester healing arc + cabinetduo drama but instead of being afraid and silent, tubbo sticks up for what he wants/believes in and won't let quackity push him around

And I keep hangin' on because it's always darkest before the dawn

And I keep hangin' on

I keep hangin' on

i see this as tubbo telling micheal about some of his story as a life lesson to be taught (watered down ofc he's still a kid) and living happily with c!ranboo

i see this as a nice ending to the dsmp in my mind so thats the point in the lore where i stop :)

[rallentando1011]

Risetober 2023: Day 9 - Cat

“Woah-hoh, Mikey! That was amazing!” Leo gave his little brother a congratulatory knuckle bump.

“Oh, that old trick?” Mikey strutted confidently off the skate ramp in the center of the lair’s atrium. The box turtle played it off coolly before grinning. “I’ve been working on it.”

“I can tell,” Leo smiled before quirking a brow ridge. “Speaking of working, where’s Raph? I thought he said he would join us after finishing his workout or whatever.”

Mikey contemplated momentarily. “Hmm, I think I saw him walk in there earlier.” He proceeded to point at the dim, drippy drainage tunnel situated at the north end of the lair.

“Waitwaitwait, Raph wandered off alone? Into the dark, mazelike sewers? No one’s freaking out about this?” Leo questioned. Did nobody remember the last time Raph went out alone and got so freaked he almost hurt his brothers and tried to eat villains?

Mikey seemed to have a similar epiphany. “Oh, this is bad. This is real bad.”

“Fret not, hermano,” Leo placed a hand on Mikey’s shoulder to walk him up to the tunnel. “We’re gonna get ‘im.”

Mikey cautiously stepped in first, the grime and dampness of the grid beneath him leaving him indifferent, having spent as much time in the sewers as he had. But something felt off.

Sloshing sludge rushed underneath him through the tunnel, forming a vortex of an unnerving wind leading down the hall. It dually felt all too loud and hushed. Mikey had a feeling of unease, an apprehension about what would await him. 

A glance back at Leo showed the red-eared slider had a similar nervousness, but the face man quickly tried to cover it.

Leo gulped and forced a smile before taking the lead.

The farther they advanced, the darker their path became. The rush of green beneath them only faintly irradiated the concrete walls around them, forcing the brothers to squint in front of them to make out the ground in front of them.

All they could see was grid panel after grid panel and then silhouette.

Leo took a double take before stopping Mikey. It took Mikey a second before he also saw the shadowy figure laying across the walkway. Based on size alone, it was Raph. Just sitting there. Unmoving. Not unsettling at all.

“Hey Raph,” Leo hesitantly called and took another step forward. “Hey big guy. Sun’s gettin’ real low.”

The eldest snapped his head around to his brother before promptly shushing him. “Leo!” Raph whisper-shouted. “Quit yapping! You’ll scare ‘em!”

Leo and Mikey both blinked, exchanged a confused look, blinked again. If Raph was having a freakout, he was a lot more coherent than normal.

“Scare who?” Mikey whispered slowly, hoping it wasn’t another set of villains in peril like last time Raph was alone.

“These little fellas!” Raph gestured in front of him. His brothers could scarcely discern two smaller contours in front of him.

“What are th-”

Leo’s question was cut off by a small mew from one of the figures, and all three turtle mutants simultaneously “awe”d.

Convinced his brother was probably not going to try to kill him, Mikey laid down beside Raph on the steel wires of the floor to get a better look at the cats.

Both had short, black fur, although one of them had little brown specks along its back and a shorter tail.

They were both so mind-numbingly cute that Mikey just wanted to scoop them up and squish them, but he restrained himself out of courtesy. So, he just beamed at them brightly.

Leo, on the other hand, was still weary of the status of Raph’s psyche. He tentatively laid beside Raph but was still ready for an attack. “Raph, are you alright? We know how you get when you’re alo-” - Leo caught himself before he could trigger something - “I mean, the a-word.”

“Well, I heard these guys when Raph was working out, so I followed the sound down the tunnel. Raph started panicking at first, but then I saw these cuties,” Raph softened when referring to the cats before him.

“Huh.” It was weird that not only these cats weren’t actively tearing Raph apart like any other animal he came into proximity with, but Raph was also calmed down by them. But Leo didn’t want to look too far into it. He was convinced enough, so Leo turned his attention back to the cats.

The one closest to Mikey had its ears facing down as it carefully groomed its paw, and the one nearest him stretched and let out the cutest little yawn any of the brothers had heard in their life.

All three of them stared admiringly at the absolute abundance of delightfulness that was those two cats. Leo may or may not have cried; who’s to say?

Some people might consider black cats some superstitious symbol of malfeasance or bad luck, but these turtles were positively enamored by them.

(@sariphantom holy moly it’s already been nine days of October? woo!)

[baeshijima]

Sophieee happy lantern rite!!

Done with the first quest of the event just as the second one is out, but I'll be doing that later cause— story time!

I was close to 5* pity on the chronicled wish, and me being me, thought that "oh Baizhu's really pretty— ahem, I mean he works great with Furina!" which is good because my best teams are dendro related (my bias is showing again—) and I was like "dope, I'll pull, and hope I get either Baizhu, or perhaps Shenhe for my Ganyu and future Wriothesley!"

...I was still in the process of leveling up Mavuika, and slowly Sethos too, but Baizhu snatched up first priority— HE CAME HOMEE!!!!

Yes, so now I'm indecisive between spending resin on the exp books for Mavuika or Baizhu, and leveling up Baizhu's weapon talents plus his ascension too haha...

Well, at least he's home and he really goes heal a lot, I get the fanfare stacks so quickly stacked I'm actually quite impressed!!

And I also played the Natlan AQ and... and... omg... (I suppose I'll be vague in case you haven't played it yet, so no worries for spoilers!)

I've seen a lot of people complaining about it— and the rest going on about "capitano please be playable!" (the latter being so relatable—), so I was actually kinda confused with the mixed reactions, and so stayed away from spoilers as much as I could (although little tid-bits here and there were unavoidable), but I'd say I was pretty much on the edge of my seat for the cutscenes because— they're great?! I mean, I kinda understand some people's points that we didn't really connect with the Natlan playable characters, for example the way we did in Fontaine— but imo I think I do quite like the Natlan cast and the nation too, so I'm kinda confused with the whole thing, but anyways— I had fun! I hope you do/did too!!

Speaking of which, the 5.4 livestream!! Wriothesley's back after being locked away in hoyo's cryo jail!!! Which means I'm not pulling for Arlecchino anymore... so that means Xiangling can continue enjoying the fancy polearm... (And speaking of fancy polearm, side eyes alt account where the vortex vanquisher is being passed around as the underleveled polearm characters as they decide what to do with it...)

Oh this ask got kinda long oopies hehe— anyways, January is coming to a close already... wow time really does fly (I won't say when you're having fun because I was studying for my bio exam which actually went really well but that does nothing to soothe my worries because— gets bonked for overthinking.)

Hope January has been pleasant and that the other coming months will be loads more enjoyable!!

(ps: lantern rite first quest teensy spoiler/references— (I was giggling through the quest almost entirely because in the first half I was thinking of the spiderman pointing at each other meme when I took baizhu into bubu pharmacy, and then the whole conversation with zhongli was ironic because tea master liu su not knowing that rex lapis was right. there. beside him— and zhongli with the coin is a sight to behold lmao— and paimon's dialogue she'd be easier convinced that rex lapis was a slime when zhongli was right there— I love paimon omg))

🍀

HAPPY LANTERN RITE CLOVER NONNIE !! YAHOO FELLOW BAIZHU HAVERS ARISE 😩😩 hehe im glad u managed to get him !! stacking all the hp on him so he never dies <33

and i still havent done any of the new genshin quests 😭 since its lantern rite i will definitely at least do that but maybe its bc so much is happening (cough uni crushing me with the assignments and research cough) that i barely have the energy to sit through them ;w; once i actually start the quest i should be fine tho <//3 but i can see ur point abt natlan !! i think the main issue ppl really have is that natlan as a whole didnt live up to their expectations of what the region would represent, and on top of that the harbinger everyone liked having... that happen to him... but it really is just each to their own bc we all have our own preferences

AND I SAW LIKE ??? HELLO ??????? WRIOTHESLEY REAL??????? first shenhe (kinda) rerun and now wrio rerun right after.... welcome back king u were mia for so long i was starting to think u were a fever dream..... (NOT THE ACC WITH VORTEX 😭)

stop... zhongli being the Normal Guy™ that he totally is a must in lantern rite and im so excited to see him fool absolutely no one that he isnt some divine being yet again 😭

[shigarakisslutbag]

Hey, im a new follower and wondering if you can make another Shigaraki smut omg i love those!♡♡ pleaseee

So im in a yandere ish mood. Dw this isnt noncon because ikd how you, the reqyester feels about it SO. Tomura is gonna be a skight yandere who's just super obsessive when fucking his sweetheart <3

I probably have a lot of typos but oh well . Its late and i wrote this on a whim

Theres so many things shigaraki feels when it comes to you. Especially your body. Theres so many things this boy does when it comes to acting, thinking, and even breathing around you . You and shigaraki had been together for about a year now and you love him with your whole heart, but shigaraki loves you even more and he doesnt mind one bit. He'd been giving all the love in the relationship just so thats one kess thing you have to do.

Shigaraki had been obsessed with you for ages before you two were even together. Thinking the most obscene nasty thoughts about your body. You moved so eloquently and talked with love in the tone of your voice and it sucked him in like a vortex. He'd especially been wanting to fuck you long before you two were together. Thinking about how your puffy doughy little cunt would fit so snug around his tbrobbing cock. All he wanting to see was your tongue sticking out of your perfect lips as he fucked you senseless and your eyes rolled to the back of your head; it was as if you were searching for a heaven that he was already giving you.

He worshipped you like the greeks worshipped the greek gods . You were so powerful and entrancing to him. The way your puffy nipples felt on his tongue as he flicked it up and down the sensitive bud felt so i toxicqting and he wanting to ingest it into his very being.

He loves touching you so much and handling you like he hates you. He loves grabbing fistfulls of the meat of your hips/ass while fucking your cunt and pulling you to take his cock even deeper. Which is the position youre in now almost

Your head is buried in his neck whilst you lay ontop of him with hsi dick buried in your sore pussy . Hes got you trapped in his arms squezzing you so you cant escape the intense pleasure he gifts you.

"Who makes you feel this good sweetheart? Be a good fucking girl and tell me who's making you feel this good ."

"You.. you.. you!"

He gives slap to your ass and says, " say it properly like my good slut."

"Yes sir. Its you sir, who makes my pussy feel so good!"

He starts moving his hips up and his cock slowly disappears into the folds of your pussy.

"So you like when i fuck you like this? Slow," he presses in further, "and deep"

Youre almost sobbing at this point, but muster up the words to tell him that its the best thing youve ever felt.

Shigaraki begins to pick up his pace and sloppily fucks your wet, sweet hole. The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of skin hitting skin and you yelp everytime he hits your gspot

"You like being fucked like my toy? Because thats all you are. My. Fucking toy. And youll only be mine, because i only want you to make me feel this way "

The thrusts get even quicker and soon hes cumming in your cunt. Its so much that is spilling out of your hole but he fucks it right back into you as a way of saying your his little cumslut. Forever.

[juyeoniemyhoney]

can this morning never end

Namjoon is the most beautiful human being to ever walk the earth. It is natural that you have a crush on him. You expect that eventually, your feelings will die out but then, you find yourself squealing uncontrollably outside of the library that you and Namjoon had agreed to meet at for your pair-work assignment. You have always watched Namjoon from afar. It surprises you when you find out that Namjoon has been observing you too. Well, there’s a first for everything. 

-pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

-genre: FLUFF, a lil bit of angst, high school/secondary school au (where i live high school is called secondary school;-;)

-warnings: vulgarities, pretty self-depreciating writing if im gonna be honest so be weary, Namjoon is a little bit of a simp for oc in this one, the ending is lowkey shit rip im sorry

-word count: 3208 words

-A/N: hi hi im back, this time with a Namjoon fic. i havent been writing a lot because im so preoccupied with my exams. in all honesty, i shouldnt be writing at all but i have absolutely no sense of self control, so i wrote this. it’s not my best but i really like how joon’s so soft in this so i decided to post it anyway. don’t be afraid to tell me how you liked (or didnt like) this imagine! and requests are open! hope you enjoy this one:)

--------

As you approach the entrance of the library, your heart starts beating a mile a minute.

You stall outside the automatic sliding doors, mind racing with a million scenarios. You freak out a little and silently squeal, earning you disapproving frowns and judging eyes from passers-by. But you don't care. You've waited a whole week for today.

A week ago, during English class, you were busy writing instead of paying attention, as usual, when your teacher had given the class the assignment to write a scenario, of any genre but it had to contain the writer's techniques she had taught in class. And she made the whole class pair up. You, too lost in the world of fanfiction, had not been listening and frankly, you didn't really care, passing her words off as just more homework.

The next thing you knew, Kim Namjoon had turned around in his chair, calling your name in that deep, gravelly voice. At the sound of his voice, your head immediately shot up, eyes wide in surprise.

"Do you want to partner up?" he had asked, lips slinging into an easy grin, eyes curling up and that goddamned dimple making itself made known on his left cheek. He patiently waited for your answer, eyes periodically glancing down to your desk that was in disarray, pieces of paper containing your words messily covering every corner of your desk. You pray that he didn't catch a peep of your (admittedly) cringeworthy fanfic as you tried to subtly gather the papers before he could read too much.

"Um, partner up for what?" you questioned, confused, head tilting ever so slightly to the right in question, brows furrowed in misunderstanding. He mirrored your actions and your heart had unwontedly skipped a beat. A beat of silence passed, "For the assignment?"

Before you could ask what assignment?, your teacher had interrupted your conversation with a satisfied clap and a smile. "Alright, I assume you have all found your partners. I'll give you time to work on your assignment right now. Remember that planning is the most important stage of writing. Do approach me if you have any questions."

Namjoon had turned back to you with a wry grin that looked a tad bit awkward, saying, "Well, I guess we're partners now."

Which is how you find yourself freaking the fuck out in front of a library on a Saturday morning, mind racing with different, absurd scenarios and outcomes of this meeting. You decide to take another minute to compose yourself.

You wouldn't say that you like Namjoon per se. You just think he is the most handsome man to walk on this godforsaken planet. But seriously, that man is far too beautiful to be real. From the first time you met him til now, you have no doubt that that man is a celestial being, gifted to the world from the gods, purely to cleanse the eyes of us, mere mortals. To make matters worse, he is smart too; of a wisdom thousands of years beyond his age. You still can't believe you've had the god-given opportunity to meet someone like him.

Okay so, maybe you kind of like him a lot, more than you let on, but you're not really sure if you like him because he's Namjoon or if it's because you are lovelorn, touch deprived, or both.

You reckon it has taken more than a minute to compose yourself because by the time you snap out of your daze, you are five minutes late when you had actually arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed timing. You sigh and finally walk through the doors that welcome you into the cooling library, cold blasts from the air conditioning cooling down the fierce blush that had taken refuge on your cheeks.

You immediately proceed to find a seat but Namjoon texts you, telling you that he's already a step ahead of you, having secured a seat in a room with tables on the second floor.

When you reach the second floor, and make your way towards the rooms, you can see Namjoon through the glass walls, sitting down and silently reading a book as he waits for you. The closer you draw to the room, the faster your heart pounds in your chest. The sound is deafening and distracting and you don't even realise how fast you had walked until you are finally knocking on the glass door, sending Namjoon a small smile when he looks up at you.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets, smile widening into a grin so wide that it hides his eyes. Your heart stops but you hide it with a small smile as you settle down your things and yourself opposite him.

"So, what genre did you want to write about," he asks as you take a pen and a piece of paper out from your bag. You freeze when your brain registers his sentence. "The assignment is to write a story?"

Namjoon stares at you wordlessly for a while, speechless that it's been a week and you still don't know what the fucking assignment is. You, however, have no idea that he is thinking about how stupid you are and happily stare back at him, taking in his mono lidded, almond-shaped eyes and the dark brown of his irises. His nose bridge is straight and the tip of his nose is a little flat, like a koala. You have never wanted to boop a nose so bad in your entire life.

"Yeah, that's the assignment," he responds patiently, giving you a gentle smile. You can't help but feel that it seems a little tight and forced, like he is regretting asking you be his partner, and regretting that he didn't have enough time to reconsider. You ignore the feeling of dejection that slowly bubbles up inside of you.

"I thought that it'd be easiest to write romance since you're so well versed in that.". You freeze. Time seems to have stopped and your ears refuse to register the rest of what Namjoon is saying, tuning everything out but your deafening thoughts. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

"You know that I write?" you interrupt Namjoon. He stops and fixes you a look of confusion, like it is so obvious that you write. It's not that you've been trying to keep it a secret. The thing is, for most of your stories, Namjoon is the main male character. In most of your stories, you have described every single part of him in excruciating detail, his eyes and lips especially. When your friends had first read your stories with Namjoon as the male protagonist, they had caught on quickly, almost immediately asking you if you were describing Namjoon because of how well you had described him. A bad feeling washes over you.

"Yeah, you're always scribbling away during English so I got curious and asked a few of your classmates," he responds, flashing you another lopsided smile. If this were any other situation, your heart would have been absolutely eliminated because of that smile but in this situation, all you can think about is if he's read any of your work. Because if he has, you're done for.

"What did my classmates say?" you question hesitantly, still deciding if you want to know his answer.

"Well they said that you've been writing since forever. They also said that a lot of people know that you write. Oh, and they also said that you had some published works so I went to check them out—" Namjoon's voice fades out as he continues to talk.

This is it.

It's the end of your social life. Namjoon is going to tell his loud ass group of friends that you write stalker-esque stories about him and then one of his friends is going to accidentally tell their girlfriend and then the girlfriend is going to spread it across the school and you'll be known as the loser who writes creepy stalker stories about Namjoon—

"It was amazing," you hear Namjoon say in between your mild quarter-life crisis. You pause and look him square in the eye. You want to come off as serious but you falter slightly when Namjoon stares back at you, irises a whirlpool of dark brown and glittering fascination, a swirling vortex that draws you in with a vicious intent of drowning.

"Yes?" Namjoon questions you after a beat of silence passes. You want to ask him if he knows that he is reading about himself but you stop yourself. "You like my stories?" you ask instead, feeling a tad bit shy now that you've realised that Namjoon likes what you write about him.

He lets out a small laugh, "Is it that hard to believe that I like what you write?"

"I was just surprised." He flashes you another wide grin and there it is, those cursed dimples show themselves again, grinning tauntingly at you and your heart commits the highest act of treason when it starts to beat faster. You gulp.

"You shouldn't be surprised. It was really good. I really liked it when you described the male character. It felt like I was looking at him myself. That's why I asked you to be my partner. I'm sure with your talents, we can get a really good mark on this assignment."

Your heart thuds a little faster when Namjoon tells you that his favourite part was reading about how you described him. But it falls to your stomach when he tells you that he picked you solely for your supposed talents. You don't know why, but a part of you had thought that maybe Namjoon wanted to get to know you better, and was using this assignment as an excuse. You thought that it was finally happening, someone you like has finally noticed you. But it looks like you thought wrong.

"Thank you," you say meekly, flashing him a half-hearted smile that you're sure he notices from the way he stiffens. "So, you said that you thought that romance would be a good genre, but what do you want to write about?"

Namjoon is silent for a while, lips pursed in ponder. You wait patiently for his answer.

"Well, I thought that I'd wanted to write romance too," he answers flashing you an awkward smile. The silence that follows is palpable and suddenly, you feel so very exhausted. "Well then, that's settled. Now we just have to think of a situation."

"How about this one?" Namjoon asks immediately after you finish your sentence. He says it rather suddenly and it startles you a little. You can't help but hear a certain extent of desperation in this voice. He wants to get this over with, you tell yourself.

"How do you mean?"

"Kinda like us now," he starts but stops to think about what to say next. You remain silent. "We should just write about us but make it a love story. For example, the two main characters are supposed to do a project together so they meet at a library," he pauses to gesture to the shelves surrounding the both of you.

"Then they start working on the project and they start talking. Then, somehow, the boy confesses to her. And the girl tells him she's always felt the same way. We can come up with how he confesses since I myself haven't come up with that yet," he continues, softening the last part of his sentence into a mumble that you barely hear, but still do. You pause. What the fuck?

"What did you say? I didn't hear you," you ask against your better judgement, curiosity getting the best of you. "Huh? Oh, it was nothing."

A furious blush begins to spread on the apples of Namjoon's cheeks, and for some reason, your body begins to mirror him, heart pumping hot blood to the blood vessels that lay beneath the skin of your cheeks. Namjoon shyly directs his gaze to his lap, dark brown bangs, the colour of his eyes, coming down in luxurious curls and waves to hide his eyes. You can't help but think that you like to see Namjoon like this; soft and shy and vulnerable because he is usually so confident and suave. It feels like he is showing a new side of himself to you, like he is peeling back the layers of masks and personas he has built until he is left raw and natural, allowing you to see everything that he is. The thought of that leaves you feeling winded because it is exactly what you want. And suddenly, you don't feel bashful or shy because of his words. Instead, you are determined, hellbent on making something out of this and you hope with your whole being that it is a relationship.

You are about to say something, to question him, bombard him until he is spilling his feelings in fumbled words and sentences of desperation and want, clawing at you until you too, are raw and vulnerable. But he beats you to it, speaking in a soft, hushed tone, as if you are a stern silence that he is afraid of interrupting.

"I think you're amazing, Y/N. What do you think of me?"

He stares meekly at his lap, too afraid to even spare you a glance. You remain silent, building his desperation like you are some professional flirt. In all honesty, you really just want to tell him you like him too but you're just so scared. The evidence that he at least feels something for you is right in front of you and yet your brain rejects it like a vending machine rejects a bill, walls built far too high and thick that words are no longer enough to convince you. He has to show you. And you think he knows that too.

Namjoon's head shoots up to stare you in the eyes, a new found determination and confidence burning in his eyes. The way the light finds his dark brown irises makes your heart do a million somersaults. They light up and turn into a golden brown you can't help but compare to a sweet, caramel syrup that coats your tongue in golden, sugary gratification. You swallow so hard, you feel the sides of your throat rub together painfully. 

"I think you're freaking amazing, Y/N. Every time I look at you, I always want to make myself better. For you. I want to become the best version of myself in hopes that it'll satisfy you and garner your attention. And I really like that you do what makes you happy. I absolutely love it when you write in English because you're always so focused and serious, plus, you make that really cute face when you're concentrating and it always makes my heart beat a little faster and it makes me hate that I sit in front of you because I have to keep finding stupid reasons to turn around just to look at you and I just think you're the most amazing, admirable, lovable person ever," Namjoon lets out. His words are rushed and desperate and you melt like goddamn candle wax.

"I'm— Wow, I'm— thank you, Namjoon. That really means a lot to me," you stutter, not really knowing what to say at first but finding your words soon enough. "Oh, and I feel the same way," you add, somehow missing the main point of your response. It doesn't matter anyway. He knows now. That's all that matters.

"Wait, really?"

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, Namjoon. Is it that hard to believe that I like you too?" you reply, a homage to your previous conversation.

Namjoon smiles a small smile, then it widens, and widens, and widens, until he is flashing you a blinding grin that could outright beat the glare of sunlight. "You said that you like me," he points out, eyes shining.

It is your turn to blush in embarrassment, cheeks feeling hot as you begin to sink into yourself, hair falling from behind your shoulders to hopefully make itself useful as a curtain to shield your red face from Namjoon. Something in Namjoon's chest begins to splinter at the sight. He is so very tempted to pull out his phone and snap a picture of you but he holds himself back at the thought that he is positive he has many more chances to do so. His ribs nearly break in half because of how hard his heart beats.

"It's a good thing that I like you too," he says gently, smile now gentle instead of blinding. "Also, we have a plot now!" he exclaims in excitement as he slides the pen and paper closer to himself, ready to start on your assignment.

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"So, we're, are we? You know... Um, dating now?"

Namjoon's eyes widen in horror and he deflates himself, a disappointed frown pulling his eyebrows together at the centre and turning the corners of his lips down. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't ask— I just assumed—" he cuts himself off, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks. Somehow, he still feels nervous even though he knows that you answer is a resounding, "Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Namjoon lets out the breath he didn't even know he was holding and it comes out in a relieved sigh. "Thank God because if not our story would have a horrible ending," Namjoon comments, picking the pen back up and clicking it open.

"Let's write that," you cut in before he can say anything else. "Write a sad love story?"

Namjoon is going to tell you no, to completely disapprove of your idea because writing a sad love story is one thing but writing a sad love story that will be handed up to your teacher for her to grade is another thing. But then, he sees your eyes glisten in determination and he dispels his thoughts immediately, folding into himself like a goddamn lawn chair. He can't believe he was just about to say no to you. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Please? I'm better at writing angst. Plus, we have a happy ending and that's all that matters," you press, trying to convince him. You don't have a real reason other than the fact that you write angst better. You also don't really know why you want to write angst right now when you feel as if you could fly. But it doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. Namjoon is your's now. 

Namjoon flashes you a dimpled smile, eyes curling up and glittering with mirth and unadulterated belief in you. You can't help but think that you want him to never stop smiling like that, looking at you like you are some sort of celestial being, hailed from the sky solely to bring him every sort of merriment known to mankind and the heavens. The thought of him thinking of you like that scares you, because you are always afraid of not being enough. But Namjoon diminishes all of your worries with a short sentence, manhandling them by the throat and shoving them off a cliff.

"Okay, I believe in you."

[chocolatequeennk]

Forever Timeless, 1/23

Summary: Two months after the Dalek Crucible, the Doctor and Rose are getting used to having the biggest family on Earth. As they visit Leadworth in 1996, Victorian England, a mysterious desert planet, and Elizabethan England, those family and friends often help in unexpected ways. But no matter where they go or who they're with, it's always the Doctor in the TARDIS with RoseTyler--just as it should be.

Ten x Rose, Donna x Lee

Betaed by @saecookie, @rudennotgingr, @pellaaearien, and @jabber-who-key

Part 7 of Being to Timelessness

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Chapter One: Family Time

Rose leaned back into the drop cloth-covered couch and looked around the room. Her mum and Pete had purchased a house in Cardiff, and she and the Doctor had spent all day painting and cleaning. After two months spent monitoring the lingering effects of the Reality Bomb, the domesticity was jarring.

A sharp pain hit Rose between her shoulder blades, and she grimaced and rolled her shoulders. Every muscle in her body ached. She was in good shape, but she didn’t usually spend hours holding a paint roller over her head.

A moment later, familiar hands settled on her shoulders and started massaging the tension away. Rose sighed and leaned forward so the Doctor could get that spot in the middle of her back.

She enjoyed the massage for a few minutes, then reached for his hand and tugged, asking him silently to sit down with her. He collapsed beside her, looking every bit as tired as she felt. He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek and his hair stuck straight up.

“What have you and Pete been up to?”

“Putting together the furniture for Tony’s room.” The Doctor rubbed a hand over his face, smudging the dirt even more. “I need to create a setting on the sonic for Allen keys. Those belong on a list of forbidden torture devices.”

Jackie’s snort interrupted Rose’s teasing response. “And here I thought you were some kind of superior alien,” she said as she entered the room, carrying two tall glasses of water. “How the mighty have fallen—defeated by an Ikea flat pack.”

Rose listened to the Doctor’s internal debate, weighing the merits of defending himself against the likelihood that Jackie would dump the glass of water over his head. In the end, he only rolled his eyes and said, “Thankfully, the fate of the universe has never rested on my ability to put together furniture named after obscure Scandinavian locales.”

Jackie handed them the water and sat down on a folding chair. “Speaking of strange places, we haven’t seen Jenny and Donna lately. Where are they at now?”

Rose blinked. “You’ve seen them?”

Her mum raised an eyebrow. “You would have seen them too if you hadn’t been off to Neptune doing whatever,” she retorted. “They stopped by a few weeks ago before catching a plane to New York.”

Rose sipped at her water to cover up the urge to sigh. The trip to Paris had whetted Jenny’s interest in seeing more of the Earth. By airplane, she’d insisted, because that was how humans did it.

Donna had been happy to travel the world with her. Rose suspected the trip was a way for her to keep her mind off the fact that they still hadn’t found Lee. Four months had passed since the Library, and the TARDIS still hadn’t picked up even a trace of him.

Rose abruptly realised her mum was staring at her expectantly. It only took her a second to remember what they’d been talking about.

“They’re in Sydney,” she said. “They’ll be back for your big housewarming party, but they really wanted to see Australia before coming home.”

“Hah!” Jackie wagged her finger at Rose. “Now you know what it’s like, having your only child go off travelling by herself.”

Rose pursed her lips. “It’s not that,” she argued. “Well, not only that,” she amended. “It’s fun having other people on the TARDIS with us. I miss it.”  

“What do you miss?” Pete asked. He pulled a second folding chair over and sat down beside Jackie.

“Having friends travel with us.”

“Apparently I’m not enough company,” the Doctor added, earning a poke in the side from Rose and a snort from Jackie.

“More like you’re a bit too much,” Jackie countered. “Can’t imagine being married to an alien.”

“No, you just married a man from a parallel universe,” Pete interjected.

Jackie rolled her eyes, then looked at Rose. Rose groaned at the look in her eye. Interrogation time, she warned the Doctor.

“Speaking of marrying an alien…” Jackie raised an eyebrow and looked at Rose, then at the Doctor, and back again. “You mentioned something about weird alien rituals.”

Rose opened her mouth, but before she could start explaining the bond, her mother started rambling.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe you had to wear funny hats? Or defeat someone in armed combat?” She pointed at the Doctor. “Maybe Rose had to go back in time to ask your family for your hand in marriage.”

“Nothing like that, Mum,” Rose said quickly before Jackie could continue on that train of thought and bring back painful memories of Gallifrey.

“Well, what was it then?” She narrowed her eyes. “You better not have been naked for this wedding.”

“No! We were fully clothed.” The Doctor felt his neck heat up.  

Help!

Rose took his hand and he let out a slow breath. “Leave ‘im be, Mum,” she scolded. “It was mostly just like a wedding. I wore a beautiful dress and we exchanged vows and rings and everything.”

“Well that doesn’t sound too weird.”

“Yeah…” Rose squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, agreeing with her sudden decision. “I was mostly teasing when I said that.”

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest. “So your wedding was completely normal?” she asked, dubious.

Rose bit her lip. “Well, we were alone in the TARDIS,” she said slowly. “And we did a handfasting because that’s part of the Doctor’s tradition.”

“Hmmm…” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

Rose knew she didn’t believe her, but explaining the bond was a far longer conversation than she wanted to have right now. Some day she’d try, but not today.

“It was perfect,” she said, wanting to move away from the alienness of their wedding.

As she thought about that day, something occurred to her. “And our wedding anniversary is only two weeks away,” she added.

The Doctor blinked, and she was glad she wasn’t the only one who’d lost track of time. “We’ll have to go someplace to celebrate.”

“Mind if I plan this trip?”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over her wrist. “I’d love it.”

“Rose?”

The childish voice drew everyone’s attention, and they all looked over at Tony, standing in the doorway.

“Yes, Tony?”

He shuffled forward, a book in his hand. “Will you and the Doctor read to me?”

The Doctor scooted over and patted the cushion in between himself and Rose. “You bet!”

The little boy grinned, then darted across the room and jumped up onto the couch. Rose grabbed the book from him before he could stab himself in the eye with it or something.

“Under the Deep Blue Sea.”

As Rose turned to the first page, she suddenly knew exactly where she wanted to take the Doctor for their anniversary.

oOoOo

The Doctor followed Rose as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd waiting at Heathrow. “The board says their flight landed half an hour ago,” she told him. “They should be almost through customs by now.”

When the first passengers started trickling in a few minutes later, the Doctor gave Rose one end of the sign they’d made. Around them, other people likewise held up their signs—Limousine for Mr. Arbuckle, etc.

The trickle turned into a solid wave of people. “Can you see them, Doctor?” Rose asked as she strained to look through the crowd.

“No… Wait! Yes! Hold the sign up, Rose.”

They waved it madly, and a moment later they were rewarded by familiar laughter. Rose leaned sideways and saw Jenny and Donna walking towards them, wheelie bags in tow.

“TARDIS for Miss Noble and Miss Tyler?” Donna rolled her eyes.

The Doctor turned the sign around and studied it. “Well, we wouldn’t want anyone else to think they could get a free ride.”

“We told you we’d take the train to Cardiff, though,” Jenny said.

Donna nudged her gently with her elbow. “You owe me ten quid, Jenny. I told you they wouldn’t be able to resist surprising us.”

The Doctor’s mouth fell open, and when he looked over at Rose he was thankful to see that at least she was as surprised as he was.

Jenny hitched her backpack up on her shoulders. “I still say giving them the flight information was cheating.”

“I didn’t realise we were so predictable,” the Doctor muttered.

Donna smirked and turned her suitcase so he could take the handle. “We just know you too well.”

Rose shook her head and grabbed Jenny’s suitcase. “Come on, we should get out of the way. The TARDIS is just a short bus ride away.”

Thirty minutes later, the Doctor unlocked the door and held it open while Rose, Donna, and Jenny walked inside. He heard Donna and Jenny sigh in unison, and raised his eyebrows at them.

“Glad you don’t have to take a train after travelling for over twenty-four hours?” he guessed.

“Definitely,” Donna said fervently.

“And glad we can hop into the Vortex and get some sleep without Gran knowing we didn’t go straight to Cardiff,” Jenny added.

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance, then Rose gave Donna and Jenny a sly smile. “About that… Are you set on going to Cardiff?”

Donna crossed her arms over her chest. “The housewarming party is next week. I’ve only met your mum a few times, but I have a pretty good idea of what will happen if you miss it.”

The Doctor grimaced and rubbed at his cheek, making everyone laugh.

Rose chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, you’re right about that. But our anniversary is the day after tomorrow, so we’re going on a short holiday before the big shindig. We can drop you in Cardiff for the week, or—”

“Or,” Donna said before Rose could continue.

Jenny nodded eagerly. “You mean you’ll drop us off on another planet, yeah?”

“If you want,” Rose said.

Jenny and Donna exchanged a look, then broke out in matching grins. “Yes!”

Rose hugged Donna and kissed Jenny on the cheek, then gently pushed them both towards the corridor. “Go lie down. We’ll drop you off in the morning after you’ve slept off some of the jet lag.” She leaned against a strut and watched them go, while the Doctor sent them into the Vortex just like Jenny had asked.

He slid the dematerialisation lever into place, and the time rotor quietly chugged up and down. The transition into the Vortex was so smooth that Rose hardly felt it.

A soft mental tug caught her attention, and she looked over at the Doctor. He’d sat down on the jump seat, and now he patted the seat beside him.

Rose pushed off from the strut and walked around the console, hopping up to sit beside the Doctor like she’d done a thousand times. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

“What are you thinking?”

“This life,” she said, talking slowly so she could put the words together as they came to her. “It’s… so much more than I thought it would be.”

She paused, and the Doctor left the silence empty so she could think.

“I thought I’d lost this at Canary Wharf,” she said finally.

“Lost what?”

“Just… human things,” she said, testing the words as she went. “Helping family move. Meeting them at the airport.”

She tilted her head back so she could look at the Doctor. “I love our life, traveling through time and space. And if I could never have anything else, this is what I’d choose. Every time.”

“But we get to have more,” he supplied, understanding what she was trying to get at. “Our life in the TARDIS, and a family on Earth.”

“Yeah. Time and space… and family.”

[how-masterful]

Your Highness

Dhawan!master x reader

Summary: The Master turns to a night of comfort after returning back to the tardis with you, aiming to show his tired human some well deserved affection and care.

Notes: oh boy, here we go! All aboard the smutty express! Big thanks to @plethora-of-imagines for the help on this one, check out their blog for some incredible fics! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! ❤

Warnings: lemon!!!

It had been a long day for sure. You'd stolen the crowns of the snobbish royal leaders of Anpavir, leading their disgruntled servants into an uprising and burning their palace to the ground. You'd raced back to the TARDIS with no time to spare, the pair of you exhausted as the Master sent the TARDIS spiralling into the time vortex- you'd helped push a button here and pull a lever there, the flying lessons he'd indulged you with paying off as you helped guide the ship through cosmic turbulence.

The Master quickly crept around the console as you focused on familiarising yourself with the dials, grabbing your waist and spinning you in his arms as you squealed with glee. He reluctantly put you down after a while and grinned as you turned yourself to face him, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a gentle kiss. You sighed contently as you parted- gaze transfixed on his warm brown eyes, and cheekily fixed the stupidly ornate crown that was sat crooked on his head, brushing his hair to the side. You looked almost proud at the red lipstick smudge on his mouth.

You both looked slightly worse for wear, clothes lightly singed and covered in a layer of soot. Your faces were dusted with ash and the occasional black smudge, but he still looked positively radient to you- even with the slightly rough appearance.

The rugged look suits you, you thought, knowing he may have heard.

"Your highness has never looked more dashing" you teased, watching him smirk as he straightened up his shoulders, bowing his head.

"One has never seen such a fairer sight than thou, your majesty" he returned, making you giggle as you curtseyed in response.

The Master pulled your hips closer and playfully kissed you again, eyes full of wonder- you looked fit to rule in that crown on your head. "You suit that crown a whole lot more then that stuck up queen ever did" he said, brushing your hair over your shoulder and smiling at your blush.

"With a crown like that, I should be calling you king, not Master." The Master smirked at your teasing tone and pulled you closer to his chest, breath hot on your neck as his beard tickled the sensitive skin, making you shiver.

"Crown or no crown, i'll always be your Master" he purred, placing gentle kisses over your collarbone and pressing his fingertips lightly into your hips.

You let yourself go loose in his touch, nestling into his chest and humming in delight. You rolled your neck back and bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut as the master moved to hold your back, head tilting. He could tell you were tired by the way you simply melted into his arms, your eyes struggling to stay open as he placed a trail of kisses down your neck. He gingerly coaxed you back from your stupor with a peck on the lips, hand snaking into your scalp and massaging your hair.

You instinctively shivvered at his touch. Your eyes opened and met his gaze, a blush on your cheeks. "Come along, love. It seems her royal highness needs her beauty sleep."

You pawed at the Masters chest and shook your head, a whine of protest escaping your lips. "Hey hey, easy tiger." the Master teased, catching your hands and peppering kisses on their backs. "M' just worn out, thats all" you offered, expression gentle. "Running around burning palaces can tire a girl out."

The Master smiled down at you warmly, brushing a stray hair from your face. "Fine, at least let me run you a warm bath. You know I love a dirty girl but this is-" the Master started, making you giggle as he gestured to your rather messy attire.

You nodded at his plan- a bath sounded wonderful, your body sore from running and filling you with a dull ache. The Master suddenly scooped you up in his arms and held you to his chest, and you instinctively flung your arms around his neck. He'd never let you fall, of course, the Master placing a soft kiss to your temple as he carried you out of the console room and into the maze of winding corridors.

Being in his arms just felt so right. You could hardly remember life before the Master, life on earth, it had been so long and so perfect you hadn't thought to ever look back. You wouldnt give up your life with the Master for anything, not that he would ever let you go- you were madly in love not only with the lifestyle, but him. The universes most wanted criminal, who was currently whispering sweet nothings in your ear and carrying you bridal style to the large TARDIS bathroom, had stolen not only your life on earth but your heart.

"And dont ever ask me to give it back" the Master replied, grinning down at you as you hid your face in his chest, proud of his telepathy. Of course he heard you, you thought to yourself. "Im sure if you tried, it would break" you replied sheepishly. You gently scratched at his stubble with your fingertips, caressing over his jawline. He hummed in acknowledgement and met your gaze.

"How do you think I feel darling? I've got two on the line." His tone was teasing, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

The Master finally set you down as you arrived at the bathroom. A warm hand found its way to the small of your back as he moved you to sit on the side of the tub, the water running in a cascade as his attention turned back to you. You'd already started pulling off your jacket when the Master took your hands, a frown upon his features. "I do believe thats my job" he purred, taking the jacket from your hands and slowly moving it to the floor. Every touch was tender, fingertips gliding over your bare skin, his gaze never breaking from yours.

A careful hand brushed your hair over your shoulders, a shivver running up your arms as the Master knelt down on one knee before you. His hands menovered over your shoes as he pulled the boots off your feet, your socks soon to follow. You struggled for breath as his fingertips walked up your calves, hands caressing up your thighs and gingerly taking ahold of your pants button and zipper. He was purposely moving slow, teasing you, making sure you felt every touch and movement.

You pushed down on the edge of the tub as the Master gripped the waist of your jeans, pulling them over your hips as you raised off the lip of the bath. It was excruciating, his gaze fixated on your slowly appearing skin, fingertips brushing against the sensitive flesh. The Master slowly peeled the jeans off your legs, leaving your bottom half almost fully exposed. He almost looked as if he were salivating.

His warm hands moved to your thighs as he carefully spread your legs apart, exposing your underwear as he slotted himself in the now vacant space. You knew your eyes were wide, face flush and lip bitten as his gaze met yours, dark browns staring up at you intently. His lips moved to trail slow kisses against the soft flesh of your stomach, his gaze never faultering as you let out a desperate moan.

"Stand for me" the Master whispered, hands sneaking up to hold your hips. You nodded your head and let the Master guide you to the center of the room, hands snaking over the hem of your shirt. You could feel his breath on your neck, beard tickling your skin as he pulled the fabric up your torso at a painfully slow pace. The wait was agonizing.

You stood obediantly as the Master made his way up to your chest, lips moving to your ear as you let out a shaky breath. "Arms up, love" he ordered, and you instinctively lifted your arms. "Good girl" he praised, kissing your jaw as he pulled the shirt up over your chest, moving the material over your head and arms, leaving your shoulders bare.

He threw the top to the side, pulling your back closer against his chest. You hummed in pleasure and leant your head back on his shoulder, greedily moving his hands to your underwear and grinding up desperately against his palms. You needed him to touch you.

A low growl emerged and a hand quickly wound itself around your throat, fingers digging into the skin where his mouth once was, his lips close on your ear as you sucked in a struggled breath. "You move when Master tells you to, got it?" He hissed in the shell of your ear, a whimper passing your lips as you nod guiltily. "Now what do we say? Use our words, love" he teased, hand squeezing tighter on your throat.

"Yes Master, i'm sorry Master" you panted, feeling the hand leave your throat and stroke down your jaw- you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. "See, we do know how to behave, don't we?" He asked, his voice low as his thumb caressed over your bottom lip. You hummed in response. "Yes master, i'll be a good girl." The Master groaned lowly, slowly moving away from your body to face your front, marvelling at your figure with hungry eyes.

"So beautiful" he whispered, tilting your chin with his finger. His words made you visibly shiver, the Master grinning proudly as he moved closer, taking your jaw in his hand. "You love when Master compliments you, dont you?" He questioned, your eyes fixated on his lips. He followed your gaze and chuckled lowly, and moved his lips to meet your own, indulging you with a tender kiss that instantly sent you spiralling. There you were, stood in your underwear and a crown as you lost yourself in the masters hold, the running of the water the only sound beside the deafening thump of your heart.

"Let me" you whispered, fingers tucking into his belt loops when he broke for air. Your fingers moved to push his jacket off his shoulders, his chest rising and falling as the garment fell from his shoulder and hit the floor. Your hands danced over his soft stomach, undoing every button on his waistcoat eagerly, savering the touch as the masters breath hitched with a whisper "You're so good for me, so good." You eventually freed him from his waistcoat, shrugging it from his shoulders as you did the same to his shirt.

The Master stood there, breathless, your eyes rapidly engulfing the sight of his bare chest, lips smeared with bright red smudges. "You know what to do." The Masters voice was low and thick with lust, his hearts pounding at a rapid pace. You met his gaze and practically purred as your hands explored his warm chest, your lips placing kisses in a trail down each torso. Your lipstick left a trail of red in its wake, the sight making the Master groan and throw his head back, steadying his hands on your lowering shoulders.

"Yes" he hissed at the sensation, pride making your heart flutter. He was enjoying this as much as you were. You got down on your knees and undid the button on his trousers, hooded gaze meeting his ravenous eyes. Slowly, you bit down on the metal zipper, ensuring the time lord was watching, pulling it down its tracks with your teeth. The Master growled dangerously low as you teased him, pulling his trousers down to ankles, hands travelling over his thighs as you left kisses on the sensitive skin. You quickly pulled off his shoes and those damn purple socks, before removing his trousers from his ankles.

A hand crept into your hair. You gasped at the sensation of a gentle tug, the feeling of his fingertips on the nape of your neck making you whine.

"Master..." You moaned, hands clamoring at his hips. "Please...Master..." The Master stared down at you with blown pupils, lips parted in almost shock at the sight.

"You have no idea just how beautiful you look right now" he breathed, voice low and desperate. You blushed profusely as he guided you to stand, your hands brushing over the lipstick remenents on his skin. "You've really left your mark, havent you love?" He teased quietly, causing your ever present blush to deepen.

Before you could respond he pulled you in for a kiss, lips desperate on your own as a hand stroked up your spine, unclasping your bra. You pushed it off your shoulders and threw it in the pile with the rest of your clothes, pressing your now bare chest against his own. The constant rumble of two hearts beating a comforting drum beat, your lips attacking his own as his hand trailed down over your ass, causing you to gasp. You sighed contently.

"I think the bath's ready" you murmered against his lips, hand stretching out to turn the tap. The Master pulled you back to his chest and grinned, kissing you once again.

"You should see yourself" you giggled, his lipstick smeared grin matching your own.

"I'm too busy looking at you" he replied, a low chuckle acompanying his compliment. You playfully smacked his chest and smiled, the Master kissing your forehead before guiding you to the water.

You grasped ahold of his wrists and met his gaze. The Master looked confused for a moment, pondering your next move, until his eyes followed where you were guiding his hands. His grin became wolfish as he ran his finger under the lace edge of your underwear, an innocent smile gracing your lips as you kept ahold of his hands.

"Help me, Master?" You asked, lips pursed as the Master let out a struggled growl. "Always." He slowly guided your underwear off your hips and down your legs, perching yourself on the edge of the tub as his hands caressed down your legs again.

His touch was electric, sending shockwaves through your body as he stripped you fully naked. The last thing left was the heavy crown on your head, and the Master stepped back to marvel at you, hand scratching at his beard as you blushed. "I'll be back in a moment love, make yourself comfortable."

You gave a little wave as he left, turning your body towards the water. You dipped your toes into the warm, bubble covered water and groaned at the sensation- the warmth against your aching bones settling you down immensely. You leant back into the water and sighed contently- all that was missing now was your timelord, God knows where he'd gone off to. It was far too quiet with him gone.

The TARDIS seemed to read your thoughts, the warm glow of the room being acompanied by the soft sounds of vinyl echoing through the room. "Thanks, dear" you mused, the ship returning with a greatful hum. The tardis had taken an instant liking to you the moment you'd stepped aboard- perhaps she'd already known how happy you'd make her pilot. She was privy to the history of everything, past and present after all.

The Master soon reappeared, and you had to double take at the sight. There he was, leaning on the doorframe with a plate of strawberries, two wine glasses, and a bottle of something dark you were half sure wasnt wine. He still wore the ornate crown atop his head, his ash covered form highlighted by the miriam of lipstick kisses across his body. You couldn't help but smile.

He was positively breathtaking.

"Wow" you whispered, the Master chuckling as he made his way to the bathtub. "You humans, always easy to impress."

He set the plate and the glasses on the side table, pouring out the red bottle and handing you the glass. You took a sip as the Master quickly stripped off his underwear, sliding into behind you and situating you on his lap.

You instantly nestled yourself against his chest, his arm wrapped around your middle. Your bodies melded together perfectly, as if you were purposely made to fit in his arms. "You just fit there so perfectly, dont you?" He charmed, making you blush again. You gently pecked his lips as you took another sip, raising your glass.

"Cheers" you smiled as the Master clinked his glass against your own. "Cheers indeed"

You sat together in a comfortable silence for what felt like hours as the vinyl played on, the Master pliantly feeding you strawberries as you nestled closer to his chest. You couldnt help but ask how you got so lucky- the most dangerous renegade in the universe, a time lord of all races, was treating you like a queen. He'd stolen you a crown.

You'd managed to pry yourself into every part of his hearts. A human, of all things, managed to tame the deadliest enemy of the doctor, the wildest beast of the universe. He was legend, his crimes dating back millenia, his reputation rolling out a blood soaked red carpet. And you had him in the palm of your hand.

"I never want to leave your arms" you sighed contently, breaking the silence. "Its my favorite place in the universe" The Master grinned, taking another sip from his glass. He pulled you tighter to his body and drew circles with his thumb on your hips. "You're so warm, you smell so damn good..." The Master laughed at that, causing you to giggle with him. Your gazes interlocked, the Masters gaze held a tenderness reserved for you and you alone. His pulse was a steady thump against your back, the four beats of the timelords hearts grounding you in the perfect moment. You needed to be there, you were destined to be in his arms.

"You've bewitched me, love" the Master took another strawberry from the plate, bringing it to your lips. They gently parted as you bit down on the sweet fruit, the timelord catching the running juice with his thumb. You gingerly licked the juice from his fingertips, placing kisses in your wake as he placed the leaves back on the plate.

"And I don't plan on letting you go easily, I never thought i'd find you to begin with." You leant closer to his chest, contently letting your head rest on his shoulder.

"But here you are, and you just fit so perfectly, as if you were made for me. Like Frankensteins monster and his beautiful bride." you smiled warmly, taking another sip of your glass and licking your lips.

"But the bride was horrified by the monster in the film, and in the book she was destroyed before she was even finished- because the universe decided the creature didnt understand love enough to deserve her." You supplied. The master hummed in response, tilting his head in thought. You turned to face him and reached for his cheek, thumb caressing over his warm skin, glass discarded on the side table.

"And you're no monster, Master. Not to me you're not."

The master smiled charmingly, eyes suddenly lit with something inherently devilish. You gasped lowly as you suddenly felt his fingertips snaking across your thigh, trailing slowly to the inside and tentatively stroking against your clit.

"Oh really, love?" He teased, teasing your entrance as your teeth bit hard on your bottom lip. "Because to me, Y/N, monsters and I have always had the same desire. Do you want to know what it is?"

You scrunched your face, head falling back as his fingers slowly began dancing around the outside of your hole. You bucked your hips in the water, sending waves splashing against the sides of the tub as the masters other hand teasingly stroked up your torso. He was taking it slow, easing his fingers over your entrance, teasing every part of you. Your breath was shaking in anticipation, the Masters chuckle as thunder on your skin as he delicately dragged his thumb over your nipples, grinning at the reaction that caused.

"What...what Master?" You choked out, voice strangled against the oncoming moan pulling from your throat. The Master laughed dangerously low in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and grinning with absolute delight.

"The desire to make you scream." he growled, before plunging two of his fingers deep into your core.

You let out a desperate cry of pleasure, eyes squeezing shut tight as you bucked your hips once more. His fingers were deliberate, thrusting in and out at a steady speed as you writhed in the tempesting water. You could feel his hearts thumping against your back, head thrown back onto his shoulder, the Masters breath shallow and ragged as you chanted his name. His other hand was taking hold of your breasts, actively teasing your nipples with his thumb and rubbing up and down your torso. The combination of the sensations was driving you wild.

His gaze was heavy with hunger, devouring your form as your walls clenched around his thrusting fingers. Your moans were scattered and gutteral, crown still perched on your headhead as the timelord continued to thrust steadily, all the while teasing your clit with his thumb. Hands flung to clutch onto the sides of the bath, fingers grasping hold of the edge to ground yourself against his constant motion. The Masters name fell so easy from your lips, his mouth hot on your neck as he bit across the tender skin, leaving a fierce trail of bitemarks in his wake.

"Please, Master please" you groaned, arching your neck as the timelord hungrily knawed at your skin between his kisses. He began to spread his fingers inside of you, curling his digits and pumping steadily, sending another shockwave of desperate pleasure through your form. The bath water had begun to slosh over the sides, your own wetness spilling out into the bubbles as the Master began to growl against your skin. The sensations were deliciously overwhelming. His other hand spread itself under your chest, groping and grabbing in rhythm all the while you moaned in desperation.

The Master was chanting deep into the crook of your neck, teeth bared on soft flesh. It was all becoming too much, the tension building in your abdomen as your walls clenched tighter around his fingers. Your neck was red raw from his lips, nails digging into the edge of the tub, water still flying over the sides as you ground your hips against his touch. The timelord could tell you were reaching your climax, digits scissoring inside you and releasing another howling scream of delight from your lips.

"Such a good girl, holding on until I say so. 'Cause you want to cum, don't you?" His voice was rough and tone commanding, your heart pounding at the thrill.

A groan of agreement pulled itself from your throat, bottom lip bleeding from the pressure of your teeth. The Master snarled, quickening his pace and thrusting his fingers harder inside your hole. The heightened friction sent your hips bucking wildly. "Yes! Yes, Master yes" you cried out, throwing your head back further and pushing grasping onto his arm. His fingertips crept up your chest to your neck, grazing over your throat as you choked out a babbling flow of moans and screams. You were falling apart in his arms, lips parted in a desperate 'O' as he grasped hold of your neck.

"One more time love, say it out strong- do you want to cum?" He demanded, curling his fingers deeper inside you and steadying his rhythm as you writhed your hips up. You whined audibly, body trembling with anticipation as his grip squoze tight on your throat. A desperate gasp escaped you- your eyes squeezing tighter shut as you proclaimed out for all to hear.

"Yes! Master, please yes!"

The timelord leant up to your ear, breathing heavy against the side of your face. He placed a kiss to your temple and hummed against the drenched skin, your body shaking desperately.

"Cum for me." He ordered.

The release was almost instant.

You felt yourself fall over the edge, a tidalwave of bliss submerging you as you released onto the masters fingers, orgasm spilling out into the lapping water. Your whole body sank, arching hips crashing down into the waves as a gutteral cry of cathartic satisfaction ripped itself from your lungs. Legs shaking, chest rising and falling at rapid pace, your eyes fluttering open with a lazy huff. The Masters fingers still inside you, you buried your face in his neck, the hand clasped around your throat relenquishing its grasp.

You took a while to gather yourself, thighs rubbing together as the timelord tenderly retracted his fingers from your hole. You were completely and utterly spent, laying weak in the Masters arms, lips parted, the Masters hands guiding you down as a gentle touch caressed over your hip. There was merely silence, the distant echo of the ever playing vinyl melting into the white noise of the steadying water, the Masters hearts racing in his chest.

His gaze fell on your fluttering lashes, a tender hand reaching to hold the side of your cheek as he chuckled almost proudly. "I must confess love, that was quite the scream."

You nodded weakly, a small smile playing on your lips. If you werent exhausted before, you were positively sleep deprived now.

"You did so well for Master, you're such a good girl." His words were much needed comfort, the adrenaline still coarsing through your system. You nuzzled yourself deeper into his hold, struggling to keep your eyes open as the threat of sleep ever loomed. The Master could tell, a smug grin on his features as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "Look at you, Y/N. Now what did I say earlier? I knew you were tired."

You couldnt bring yourself to deny it, humming against his neck and allowing your limp body to submit to his hold. The master tilted his head and scrunched his nose adoringly, a gentle kiss finding its way to your forehead, the crown still firmly perched atop your head making him smile tenderly.

"Come along, Sleeping Beauty, up you get. Time to renounce your throne for the night."

The world faded in and out of view from your heavy lashes, your body numb to the outside world as you let the Master guide you out of the tub and carry you to the bedroom, drying you off gently limb by limb. Soon your dried off body collided with the warmth of your bedsheets, the crown that sat atop your head tentatively placed upon the bedside table, loving fingers sifting through your hair as you buried your face deep into the pillow.

"Master?.." You called into the darkness, words slurred and voice croaking. Warm arms curled around your waist, pulling your back to the comfort of a bare chest, fingers drawing circles over your bruised hips as you settled into their comforting hold.

"I'm here, love." The master pressed his face into your shoulder, peppering slow kisses over the delicate flesh. You let out a gentle sigh, sinking deeper into the bed.

"G'night...love you Master..."

The master hummed comfortingly in reply, his embrace allowing you to slip into the calling slumber with ease. He smiled into your skin as he felt you fall asleep in his arms, the timelord drawing mindless symbols as he pondered in thought. Once he was sure you were truly asleep, he allowed himself to shut his eyes. He didnt need sleep, not tonight anyway, but the passing comfort of shutting his eyes was too good to resist.

"Love you too, your highness." He promised into the dark, the words echoing through his mind as they dissipated into the walls of your bedroom.

The Master smiled knowingly. He knew one day he'd be able to say it back to your face, to say it to you when you were awake to hear it. But, as your gentle breathing fluttered out into the night, he decided the comfort of the midnight dark would suffice. For now, at least.

You'll hear it one day, he told himself, a smirk playing on his lips. But as you curled yourself tighter into his embrace he was sure, in some way, that you already knew.

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

[ace-does-stuff]

emotional scars

distracted by the somewhat shrill sound of his phone ringing, boyfriend begrudgingly turned his attention from girlfriend to his phone, checking the number seeing it was... someone he hadnt seen in a while, the picture that came up was one he couldve sworn he deleted and the caller id made him feel sick to the stomach.

"i love you gf, but this might be important." boyfriend as he got up, grabbing his green sweater.

"come on, we where this close to getting it on..." girlfriend whined as she leaned back a little bit.

"i wont take to long." boyfriend said as he left the room.

"you better not take to long." girlfriend said with a disappointed sigh.

"this better be good." boyfriend sighed before answering the call, holding the phone to his ear as he took a seat at the table.

"hi." he said over the phone, somewhat gingerly.

"i thought i deleted your number." boyfriend began with not even bothering with a simple hey.

"guess you didnt, anyways-" he tried saying being cut off by boyfriend.

"i thought i told you to never speak with me again during our last meetup." boyfriend growled.

"you did, but i thought you might want to hear my voice again." he said somewhat cockily.

"why would i ever want to hear your voice again?" boyfriend countered with.

"i dont know, just thought i would make sure your slut is treating you good." he said with a slight chuckle.

"shes treating me fine, but why did you call me?" boyfriend answered with a sigh.

"nothing better to do..." he said.

"look, you already know what you did to me, so please leave me alone now." boyfriend said with a sigh.

"this is the first time weve spoke with each other in years." he explained.

"what do you want from me, pico? youve already taken so much from me, i dont see what more you could possibly want." boyfriend said, a little bit teary eyed.

"i was wondering if we could meet up at the DQ we used to go to tomorrow for a blizzard and chat." pico said giving light, nervous chuckle.

"fine, your going to keep bugging me if i dont say yes." boyfriend said with a sigh.

"alright see you tomorrow then." pico said.

"bye, i have to attend to some... things." boyfriend said before hanging up, not even giving pico a chance to make a snarky remark.

"you almost done?" girlfriend asked over the house.

"yeah, im coming." boyfriend said as he walked back, mood dampened only slightly.

boyfriends dreams seemed to be working against him tonight, not in a hellish, deformed, mutated, post apocalyptic, everyone you loved died kind of nightmare, just bittersweet memories flashing through the void of his innermost psyche, tormenting him, screams stuck in his throat as tears slowly rolled down his face dropping into the void as each and every single memory he had with pico flashed by, as real as the day it happened, swirling around him like a vortex in the empty null realm.

he snapped awake with a start, slowly taking in his surroundings and having the fact he was safe and none of it was real slowly sink in, he sighed in relief at the fact before getting up and putting on his signature t shirt and the green sweater, pulling on some jeans and deeming himself ready for whatever fates about to throw at him even it means a foot of snow.

"fuck." boyfriend groaned under his breath, sloppily writing a note for girlfriend before putting on his snow boots and making his way down the streets of the city in the general direction of the DQ.

"he better be paying for those blizzards..." he uttered under his breath, rubbing his arms for extra warmth, breath fogging a bit in clouds of steam whenever he took a deep breath to steady himself for whatever was going to happen, his internal mental stability slowly collapsing in on itself as he made his way closer to the DQ, tears starting to gather at the corner of his eyes mere seconds before he recognized pico in the small crowd of people, looking like the fallen angel he fell in love with so many years ago.

"nope, i cant do this... i cant..." he muttered to himself before going to turn around stopped by the sound of pico calling him over, having no choice but to just walk over and eat a blizzard.

"your blizzard." pico said handing the minty blizzard to boyfriend who had to repress a mental breakdown, only shaking slightly. "im assuming you still like mint, if not you can have mine." pico offered placing a hand on boyfriends shoulder near instantly removing it, remembering that touching him in this state was not a good idea.

"no, its fine i still like mint blizzards, been a long time since i had one though." boyfriend said as he took a small spoonful of the frozen treat being barraged with the taste, normally like heaven bringing more memories from the depths of his mind causing him to flinch at the taste.

"i kind of wanted to talk with you." pico said a little bit sheepishly as he led the two of them to the red bench near the water fountain at the side of the building, taking a seat after wiping away some of the snow.

"you told me last night over the phone." boyfriend said as he took a seat placing the blizzard at his side.

"i just wanted to say im sorry, for everything." pico said as he took another bite of his blizzard.

"yeah, and you should be." boyfriend said huffing a bit, unamused at what pico claimed.

"i shouldntve done what i did, i admit shooting that bastard wasnt my best move, but i wouldntve continued to do so if i wasnt given a fat stack of cash, i just, im sorry, boyfriend." pico said with a light sigh.

"anything else?" boyfriend asked, knowing their was so much more pico had to try and apologize for, but most of it couldnt even be put it into words at this point, the memories blurred and slightly cracked.

"i fucked up big time when i went to that club, and when i accidently did the mom thing where they clip you in the back of the head hitting weaker than a punch in the gut but hurting more, and when i grazed your shoulder with a bullet." pico said, few tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, he felt extreme remorse for his actions, hating himself for it on more than one occasion, he had been deficient in serotonin for who knows how long since then.

"i dont forgive you for it, but, i can accept the apology." boyfriend said as he took a few more deep breaths.

"good enough for me." pico said as he leaned against the side of the building with a satisfied sigh, a weight from his shoulders having been lifted.

"here." boyfriend said as he pulled off the sweater. "i never returned it to you." he said handing it off to pico.

"how often do you wear this rag, youve had it for years by now." pico said as he grabbed the sweater.

"its my go to sweater, but thats beside the point, just take it back before you have to lose it to me again." boyfriend said.

"your chick will look at your weird if all of the sudden your go to sweater is missing, so you can have this one." pico said as he yanked off his sweater handing it over before putting on the other one.

"thanks i guess, i should probably get going though." boyfriend said as he slid on the green sweater.

"dont get hurt." pico said before taking his leave in the opposite direction of boyfriend.

"i guess he isnt that bad... he still smells comforting..." boyfriend said as he took a deep inhale of the potent yet comforting scent, his gait faltering, slightly losing himself in it, memories flooding back, a bit more sweet than bitter unlike his nightmares.

....................................................................................................................

[idk-my-aesthetic]

Ok I already made a kinda similar post but I feel like I wanna re-articulate/add to my point

So, Steven wanting be seen as an adult isn’t a problem at all bc like.... he is. Basically. Maturity and experience wise, he has more than passed what qualifies as becoming an adult like.... years ago

But the part of snow day that concerns me is how he pushes away all the things that have been shown to make him happy, without really showing any new things

(Also the gems behavior of suddenly treating Steven like he’s 12 again (which he’s rightfully annoyed by) seems like a big jump, but I’ll explain that in a minute)

Like it’s perfectly healthy for ppl to grow out of little kid stuff and into adult stuff, if they actually grow into adult stuff! Bc Steven like.... doesn’t. He exchanges together breakfast for protein shakes, but that’s it. Everything else is replaced by work

Also his refusal to rely on the gems in anyway (for food, to let garnet pack his bag, etc) could be seen as just like a part of trying to establish his independence, if it wasn’t part of an increasingly concerning pattern of refusing to rely on anyone for anything

And tbh? I think both things are very much connected to what happened with spinel and in the movie

Like in the very beginning/in here we are in the future we see him acting A lot closer to 14 yr old Steven. He’s obviously matured, but he shows actual interest in stuff (the rock show) acts more goofy (rolling down the stairs, jumping through Lars’s hair) and relays on the others a lot more (letting garnet & amethyst catch him)

Obvi the rest of the movie is super stressful and the gems don’t know him so we don’t really get many more things like that. But those actions are prominent and show us 2 important things 1) even though he’s definitely grown he still likes to act kinda silly, and 2) he’s still close with the gems

So what happened?

Well, at the end he says to spinel “there’s no such thing as happily ever after. My work will never be done” and like... I think that’s a much more important line than anyone is giving it credit for

I think spinel’s attack was something much bigger that affected him a lot more than ppl realized. It made him realize that like this shit will affect him for the rest of his life

And tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if that led to a subconscious thought process of “I always need to be vigilant and ready to help” to “I know I’m not a threat, so my problems should be pushed aside to help others” to “I need to try and stop problems before they happen” to “I can’t Ever think about my problems bc I need to find any others and fix them instead”

So now he doesn’t wanna think about his own issues for 2 reasons a) bc it’s hard and b) bc he thinks it’s more important to make sure everyone else in the galaxy is ok then it is to make sure he’s ok. Which is only gonna make his problems worse x 2

And it’s showing in how he acts in future vs the beginning of the movie, though it’s most evident in snow day

Like in the movie there is no indication that any of the gems are babying him in any way. At one point I was literally annoyed cause I was like they’re letting him do too much. But they’re def not babying him, they obvi show concern but they still let him continue after he collapses, interact w/ spinel (probably assuming he went to fight her) on his own, and face her on his own at the very end. All things they would never let him do in say s1, which is how they’re treating him

And in earlier episodes they’re like... letting blue bird chill which is another thing they wouldn’t do if they were really babying him lol

But we know that there’s a decent time skip between those eps and snow day and the other eps, bc of how Steven’s discussing the third quarter when little homeschool seemed to be just opening at first, and the weather change

So like what I think is happening is that after spinel’s whole thing Steven starts to distance himself a bit. He still spends time with the gems, but he doesn’t really let himself rely on them for anything anymore

As time goes on and he a) finds out he has distructive powers b) is struggling more to keeps his emotions in check and c) relizes he’s even less safe than he thought after bluebird, he starts distancing himself even more, as well as throwing himself into work more to avoid having to face his own problems

The gems slowly start to notice, and attempt to reconnect with him. There’s nothing he really likes now, and any changes he has made they don’t know about bc he’s distancing himself. So they fall back on stuff they know he used to like, and start treating him like when he was a little kid and wanted to spend time with them really desperately

So in the process of trying to get closer to him they actually hurt him by romanticizing a person he just.... isn’t anymore. He’s dealt with a lot of shit since season one and he’s a completely different person, and treating him like the little kid he hasn’t been in years is both super insulting and hurtful

So they end up in this sort of paradoxical vortex. Steven is isolating himself/abandoning the stuff that makes him happy/throwing himself into his work to avoid dealing with his emotions, hurting both him and the gems. The gems try to fix it, but accidentally make it worse, hurtling both him and themselves. Until it finally cumulates in snow day and them having a chat

But

Their conversation only solves 2 of the 5 main problems Steven has that are shown/referenced in the episode

The gems babying him

Distancing himself from his family

Abandoning/not having anything that makes him happy besides work

Refusing to rely on others in anyway

Throwing himself way too much into work

(Plus theres the other 2 big ones that aren’t really in this ep but still important

How he feels about his mom

How he’s pushing his own emotions aside in favor of helping others)

So... yeah. Obvi all that stuff is gonna be handled later on, I’m just a bit worried about my boi ;-;

Edit: hhhhh he’s using his hotdog duffel in bluebird

Just like,,,, more evidence for everything im saying since he was ok with using it b4 the bigger shift. He probably started separating more after bluebird bc he’s scared of relying on the gems too much

Also!! Check the comments pls a lot of them are real good and smart but I can’t rb them and don’t wanna screen shot em

[ghostsray]

Danny Zombie chapter 2

(remember this fic? here’s the second chapter. tbh i dont even have a plot in mind, im just writing whatever bs pops in my head. based on @burning-clutch‘s prompt: an au where the ghosts are humans and the humans are ghosts)

.

Walker trudged into the cemetary. It was the dead of night, pun unintended, and he carried a flashlight to provide him better light than the dim full moon. He had received complaints from the surrounding residents about a strange occurence here: a flash of light, a sudden storm. To him, that sounded like a load of crap, but more than one person had witnessed it, so he had no choice but to investigate.

The flashlight's beam caught a group of teenagers up the hill, standing among a row of graves. As soon as they noticed him, they began to flee--two at first, then another pair trailing after. "Hey!" Walker called and picked up his pace, but he was too late. The four troublemakers had already made it to the opposite wall by the time he reached the grave they were ransacking.

Walker stopped and turned his flashlight down over the grave. He let out a disapproving tsk at what he saw. Whoever those teens were, (and he had an idea; he was familiar with all the troublemakers in town,) they had undoubtedly robbed the grave. A deep hole was dug in the mound, almost as if somebody had climbed out from inside the grave. Walker chuckled at that image. As if zombies were real.

The cop shone his flashlight down the hole. At first, he was met with nothingness, which was odd. Surely the graverobbers couldnt have taken the whole corpse with them, could they? Then, something stirred. Walker nearly dropped his flashlight in surprise, but he caught it and kneeled over the open grave to get a better look.

Nothing.

Walker exhaled. He was not a superstitious man, but this place gave him the creeps. He stood up, and as he did, his foot knocked against something. He looked down and grinned. A guitar--and a familiar one at that. He was sure the owner's parents would enjoy a nice chat with him.

He bent down to pick up the instrument, and that was when it happened. Toxic green light gradually grew from the grave and intensified until everything was shed in chartreuse. Walker momentarily forgot about the guitar, whipping his head back to face the grave.

It wasn't so empty anymore. When he peeked inside again, a swirling vortex of green...something...had filled it up. The light it produced was so bright it painted the soil a sickly green. Walker's jaw hung loose as he gawked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Just then, something rose out of the vortex--or rather, someone.

He was a tall man in a white suit and sunglasses hiding his eyes, but what really caught Walker's attention was the fact that he was glowing. If one stared at him hard enough, his skin appeared transparent, and Walker thought he saw his skull underneath his face. Oh, yeah, and he was floating in the middle of the air above the portal he had come through.

The man, whatever he was, looked down at Walker, and goosebumps broke out on his flesh. He picked up his jaw long enough to ask, "Who...What are--"

He couldn't finish his sentence before the creature lunged at him. Walker held his arms up to protect himself, but it didn't do anything, because he wasn't attacked. Instead, the man--the ghost--had entered his body.

Walker's entire body shuddered. He felt his mind being pushed into nothingness as whatever was inside him wrested control. He desperately tried to cling to his consciousness, but it was no use. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't Walker anymore.

Operative's eyes glowed red. He flexed his borrowed neck and smiled.

.

Sidney woke up on 6 AM, like he did everyday. The alarm clock was ringing by his bedside, and he rolled in bed and slammed the top until it quieted. His eyes fluttered open. Blue eyes stared at him.

"Jiminy Cricket!" he blurted and fell off his bed.

"Jiminy Cricket?" Danny echoed. "What year were you born in?"

Sidney glared up at him from his spot upside down on the floor. The halfa was standing in Sidney's bedroom, wearing his borrowed clothes after Sidney had insisted he take a shower last night to remove all that creepy dirt on his body. He looked more alive than he had yesterday, almost normal even, though he was still pale.

"Says the guy who died forty years ago," Sidney grumbled and righted himself. He glanced at the halfa again and asked, "Didn't sleep?"

Danny slowly shook his head. "Dreams...are scary."

Sidney raised an eyebrow. Now that he looked at those blue eyes again, he noticed they seemed pretty bloodshot. "Not all dreams are scary," he said. "For example, I was just having a wonderful dream about standing up to Aragon."

"Who's Aragon?"

"This bully in school," Sidney said, and the way he mentioned the word "bully" made it sound like the worst insult possible. "His real name is Aaron, but he thinks calling himself Aragon is edgier or whatever. He thinks that just because he's rich, he's so much better than everyone else." He shook his head and added, "What about you? What dream is so scary you couldn't sleep?"

Danny didn't reply. He averted his eyes and focused on a corner.

Sidney sighed. Once again, he wondered why he was even letting him stay at his house. Curse that Ember for dropping him here. Hey, Poindexter! Here's this undead guy I found in the middle of the cemetary. I'll just drop him in your house and then leave!

He can't say he doesn't understand her reasoning, though. Ember's parents would never let her sneak a boy in her house, but Sidney's grandmother was barely aware of what was going on around her. One time he managed to keep a cat inside for an entire month, and she had no idea. (The cat's name was Gene Kelly, and he escaped when Sidney left the window open one day.)

"Well, you're a human now, and humans need to sleep," Sidney told him. "Eight hours a day. Then again, you are only part human, so I'm not sure if you need that much...um, what are you doing?"

Danny had lost interest in whatever Sidney was saying and had started rummaging around his room. Sidney got up and stopped him before he could pull open his underwear drawer. "Hey, just because I'm letting you stay over in my room doesn't mean you're free to search through my stuff! What are you searching for, anyway?"

"I told you yesterday," Danny said. "I need to make a call."

"The phone is right there, in case you haven't noticed," Sidney retorted and pointed at the telephone on his desk. But Danny shook his head.

"Phones can't contact the dead. Don't you have a ouija board? A crystal ball?"

Sidney's eyebrows rose to his scalp. "No? I'm not really into witchcraft. Maybe Desiree might have that stuff."

"Who's she?"

"A neighbor. But I'm not taking you to see her."

"Why not?"

"Because," Sidney said, "I need to go to school, and I don't trust you enough to let you roam around town unsupervised. How do I know you won't eat anyone's brains or anything?"

Danny huffed. "Why does everyone keep mistaking me for a zombie? I'm a ghost."

"You're a walking dead person who crawled out of his grave, that's why. Now can you just...stay put while I get ready for school?"

"School?" Danny asked, sounding interested.

Sidney rolled his eyes. "Yes, school. You know, where you learn stuff? I'm pretty sure those existed around your time."

"Of course I know what a school is," Danny replied, then hesitantly added, "Can I come?"

Sidney blinked. "You...want to come to school?"

Danny shrugged. "I'm curious about what new stuff students are learning since I was gone."

Despite himself, Sidney grinned. "I didn't know you were a fellow nerd."

"I'm not a nerd," Danny said, blushing. Sidney laughed and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, buddy. Being a nerd is actually pretty cool these days."

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope. Dungeons and Dragons is hot. Star Trek is mainstream. You have a lot to catch up on."

Danny didn't look like he believed him, which only made Sidney laugh more. "Come on, I'll bring you to school."

.

Casper High hadn't changed much in forty years, although the student body did grow. Some of the students cast curious glances at Danny as Sidney led him through the crowded hallways, but they didn't say anything. Well, except for one.

"Who do we have here?" a voice purred. Sidney groaned and turned to face the speaker.

"Hey, Aragon," he greeted with a strained smile.

Aragon looked...not as intimidating as Danny expected. He was thin, with a pimple-ridden face and greasy hair, but his sneer was enough to signify that he was a bad guy.

Aragon sized up Danny and said, "I haven't seen you around."

"This is Danny, my, uh...cousin," Sidney lied. "He's..."

"Homeschooled," Danny supplied. "But I'm curious about what regular schools are like, so Sidney offered to show me around his school." He lied so effortlessly that Sidney wondered if he had practiced it beforehand.

Aragon snickered. "Homeschooled? That's probably because you're too wimpy to be around other kids. Hey, Poindexter, why don't you join your cousin at home? It's not like anyone will miss you."

Sidney bristled. He thought of numerous insults he could throw at the bully, and he almost might have said one out loud, but then Danny spoke up and said, "You're not scary."

Aragon blinked. "Excuse me? My dad can probably buy your dad's company."

"I doubt that," Danny muttered.

Aragon bristled and almost said something back, but then a girl came and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Leave them alone, Aaron," she told him.

Sidney smiled when he saw it was Dora. He loved Dora--she was basically the anti-Aragon, kind to everyone. She caught his eyes and smiled back.

Aragon shrugged her hand away and scowled. "Fuck off, Dora. I'm pretty sure that guy just insulted me."

"He just said you aren't scary," Dora said, "which is true."

Sidney snorted. Aragon turned on him, but before he could speak, his condescending posture dissolved at the sight of a woman coming up to them. "Miss Pandora!" he said, suddenly sounding polite.

The tallest human Danny had ever seen stood over them with her hands on her hips. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Aragon told her, and he actually wrapped his arm amiably around Danny's shoulders and said with a smile, "We were just greeting Sidney's cousin here."

She raised her eyebrow and noticed Danny. "Cousin, eh?"

"He's homeschooled," Sidney said helpfully.

"Well, then! It's very nice of you to show him around." The teacher smiled at Aragon, and it took Sidney considerable effort not to roll his eyes. Pandora added, "Maybe you can let him take a lesson with you. Class is just about to start, you know."

"Yes, ma'am," Aragon said with a white-toothed smile and saluted her. Pandora passed them, and as soon as she turned a corner and left, Aragon pushed Danny away from him.

"Have fun at school, fuckhead," he said and laughed. He left, and Dora turned to him with a grimace.

"I'm sorry about my brother," she apologized.

Danny shrugged. "He's...interesting."

"What the fuck!"

The three teens turned to see Johnny standing in the hallway, glaring at Danny with his jaw agape. He strode to him, then jabbed a finger at his chest and demanded, "What are you doing in my school?"

"Stop that," Dora said. "Why is everyone intent on bullying the visitor?"

Johnny stared at her with disbelief written all over his face. "You don't know what he is, do you?"

Dora looked confused, but Danny just smiled and said, "Hey, Johnny. Thanks for helping me last night."

Johnny scoffed. "I didn't help you. That was all Ember."

"True, but at least you didn't stop her."

"I'm sorry, what's happening?" Dora asked, glancing between them.

Johnny scowled and said, "He's a zombie."

"Ghost, actually," Danny corrected.

Dora stared at them for a moment, and then she burst with laughter. Johnny raised his eyebrows and saw her with a hand over her mouth, eyes crinkled humorously. "Ghost! Ha ha."

Johnny frowned and said, "It's not--"

"It's a very funny joke!" Sidney interrupted. "I bet he even crawled out his grave."

He smirked at Dora as he said this, and Dora laughed harder. Sidney felt Johnny's eyes boring into him, but thankfully, the school bell chose that moment to ring. Dora wiped tears from her eyes and said to Danny, "Have a nice day, ghost boy."

"Will do," Danny replied with a toothy grin.

Dora left, but Johnny stuck behind. He sent a glare at Danny and stated, "I don't trust the undead." Then he turned to Sidney and added, "You shouldn't, either."

The way his eyes bore into him made goosebumps break out on Sindney's skin. Finally, Johnny turned and left, his shadow trailing behind him.

"What a great guy," Danny said after he was gone. Sidney tried to study his expression, but Danny was wearing an unreadably simple smile, and his hands were in his pockets. Danny's blue eyes met Sidney. "So, where's your class?"

.

Fuck, Ember thought as she sped down the hallway. She was late for class and Ms. Pandora was gonna kill her. She turned a corner, then stopped so suddenly she almost slipped on the linoleum floor.

The man in front of her turned around. He was wearing sunglasses indoors for some reason. On his chest sat a sherrif badge, and in his hand was her guitar. She had no idea what was with the glasses, but it obviously wasn't enough to stop her from recognizing him, nor quell her anxiety at his presence.

"You," he grunted, which erased any chance she had of escaping unnoticed.

Ember gulped and waved nervously. "Heyyy, Sheriff Walker. What are you doing here?"

Walker held forward her guitar. "Is this yours?"

Oh boy. Ember began to explain, "I swear, I didn't rob that grave. Heck, why would I even be in the graveyard? I don't know how this got there, you must have seen someone else--"

Walker ignored her and shoved the guitar at her. Then, to her surprise, he said, "Take it. I have no interest in it."

Walker? Letting someone go when he had a chance to arrest them? Ember eyed him and asked, "Who are you and what have you done to Walker?"

She had meant it as a joke, but the way he stiffened made her reconsider the truth of her statement. He said, "I don't care what happens to you, human," which Ember thought was a strange choice of words, "I only wish to know where the escapee is."

"The what?"

Walker (if that even was him) turned his attention away from her and focused on the hallway behind her. Now that Ember listened, she heard footsteps approach. She turned around and saw Sidney and...was that Danny? What was he doing in school?

Danny seemed to freeze up at the sight of Walker. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she saw his breath turn to mist as it escaped his mouth, which shouldn't have been possible because it wasn't cold enough inside the building. His eyes widened.

When she looked back at who may or may not have been Walker, she saw his face stretched in an unnerving grin. He walked around her and strode toward Danny, who somehow got stiffer the closer Walker got to him.

Ember didn't understand what was going on, but she knew enough to be able to tell that this not-Walker was bad news (yes, even worse than the real Walker) and that Danny seemed to be, for whatever reason, in danger. She shoved herself between not-Walker and Danny and said, "So, Sheriff, how's life?"

Not-Walker growled and shoved her away. Yep, that definitely was not Walker. Danny saw that he wasn't stopping and began to run away, but not-Walker grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

It didn't feel right, seeing the undead guy look so scared. Ember barely thought about her next action. She looked down at her guitar, remembered how good a weapon it made when she whacked Danny in the head last night, and swung it at the back of not-Walker's head. Not-Walker grunted and let go of Danny. His glasses fell to the floor, and when he turned around to glare at her, she froze--because his eyes were as red as blood. Ember was fairly certain that Walker's eyes were supposed to be green.

"Ember, get away! He's a ghost!" Danny warned.

Ember stared wide-eyed at Danny, and that was long enough for not-Walker's fist to connect with her gut and send her toppling backward. He didn't just punch her--he also sent a strange beam of green light that made her body buzz with electricity and sent her skidding across the hallway. She fell over and clutched her stomach, wheezing. She weakly raised her head enough to watch not-Walker grab Danny again and lift him up by his neck. Sidney was next to them, but he looked too paralyzed to help, and Ember was in too much pain to get up.

"Danny Phantom--" Danny Phantom? "--I see you're alive," not-Walker said with a sneer.

Danny quit struggling in not-Walker's grip long enough to gulp. "Alive? Nah. I'm just overshadowing someone, like you are."

"You think you can lie to me? I know what overshadowing senses like. You're alive." His cheeks looked like they were pulled back by invisible strings into a cruel smirk, and he added, "But if you're really only borrowing this body, then I suppose killing it won't do anything to you, would it?"

His grip around Danny's neck tightened, and Danny's struggling became strained. Why couldn't he just go intangible? Sidney looked like he finally snapped out of his paralysis, and he ran forward to help Danny with a yell of, "Let him go!" Unfortunately, he was quickly pushed back by the same weird light that attacked Ember.

"You're mortals," not-Walker growled. "You don't understand the laws that govern ghosts. The dead stay dead. Ressurecting oneself is a major crime--against the laws of the Ghost Zone and the laws of nature."

Cool, so it wasn't Walker, but he sure as hell was equally obsessed with arresting people. Or, well...executing them was more like it, if he continued to squeeze Danny's throat any longer. (Re-executing? What would happen if you die a second time?)

Ember gritted her teeth and pushed herself up. She may have only known Danny for less than a day, but there was no way she was letting the weirdest friend she'd had disappear so soon after she met him.

Without a second thought, she ran up to not-Walker, ignoring the pain in her gut, and shouted, "Hey, dipstick!" Not-Walker turned around but did not have time to prepare when her boot swung up and connected with his crotch.

Not-Walker cringed. Ember wasn't sure if the ghost was able to feel pain from inside Walker's body (probably not, because she was confident in the power of her kick) but the shock of being kicked in the private part was enough to loosen his grip on Danny. Danny, now able to breathe, took this opportunity to thrust his hand into not-Walker's face, and before she could blink, a bright burst of green light not unlike not-Walker's own attacks was released from his palm and roasted Walker's face.

Apparently, the ghost did feel pain from that, because he yowled and let go of Danny. Danny didn't waste any time after he landed before grabbing Ember and Sidney by the arms and sprinting down the hallway and around a corner, away from not-Walker's sight.

Danny kept running, pulling the two humans behind him. She didn't know how long they went--lockers and windows passed by in a blur--before he apparently thought they were far enough from the ghost possessing Walker and let go of their arms to slump on the floor and pant.

"Okay, what was that?" Sidney demanded.

"Yeah, and why did that guy call you Danny Phantom?" Ember added.

Danny didn't answer them at first, still catching his breath. Finally, he gulped and said, "So, that was the ghost police."

"I kind of figured," Ember said, remembering the ghost's words. "Resurrecting yourself is illegal?"

"Of course it is," Sidney said, staring at Danny, and Ember thought she saw a hint of wildness in his eyes. "It's unnatural! You're supposed to be dead!"

Danny flinched. Ember bit her lip and placed a hand on Sidney's shoulder. "Hey, man. What's done is done. Danny's alive now."

Sidney kept huffing for a moment before he covered his face with a hand and sighed. "No. I know. It's just...I wasn't expecting to be a attacked by a ghost-possessed Walker today."

"I mean, you did bring Danny to school," Ember pointed out. "Why did you bring Danny to school?"

"I asked to come," Danny answered.

"Why would you want to come to school? Are you a nerd?"

Danny looked about to argue, but then Sidney spoke up, "That's not important. That ghost inside Walker is still around. How do we get rid of him?"

Danny hummed thoughtfully. "Usually, in the Ghost Zone, we just duke it out with ghost powers, but I don't think that would work when I'm part human."

It was then that Ember finally noticed the way Danny was cradling his hands tenderly. She looked at his palm and saw it filled with slightly greenish blisters. Danny caught her looking and covered his palms, but she had already seen them. Guess that ghostly light attack was too hot for a human body to handle.

"Then what do we do?" Sidney asked.

Danny shrugged. "Maybe...are there myths about ghost weaknesses? Usually those have a little truth in them."

"What, you mean like, sprinkle salt on him?" Ember said with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe," Danny said. "I--"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when a blur came through the wall behind them, grabbed Danny, and went through the opposite wall. Ember and Sidney both stared slack-jawed as they tried to make sense of what just happened.

"Ghost," Sidney said.

"Salt," Ember said. "I'll go to the cafeteria."

"I think I also have something that might help," Sidney said. "I'll go get that."

There was no time for Ember to ask what thing Sidney had that might work against a ghost. The two teens separated and ran down different directions, Ember to the school cafeteria. She arrived to find it empty apart from the lunch lady behind the counter.

The lunch lady was humming to herself as she cooked...whatever the fuck school lunches were supposed to be. Ember tried to crouch near the wall and sneak into the kitchen. If she was lucky, she could grab the salt and dash without any confrontation...but she had no suck luck.

The humming stopped, and Lunch Lady said, "What are you doing outside of class?"

Ember closed her eyes and silently muttered a few curses before standing up in front of Lunch Lady with a smile. "Sorry. I just wanted to grab some salt...for a lab experiment."

"Salt? We have salt," Lunch Lady said sweetly.

"Great! I'd love some, please."

Lunch Lady grabbed a salt container, and Ember reached out for it eagerly, but the woman held it back with a frown. "If it's for a science class, why were you trying to sneak past me?"

"Me? Sneaking? I would never," Ember said, her smile straining. "I just thought it would be quicker...you know...so I don't waste any class time."

"Of course your teachers wouldn't want you to waste class time. That's why they're supposed to bring their own materials for experiments. I talked to them about that last year."

Ember winced. "They...forgot?" When Lunch Lady seemed unconvinced, Ember brought her hands together in a pleading gesture and said, "Please, I just want some salt. It won't even be long. I'll give it back."

Lunch Lady narrowed her eyes, like she was considering Ember's words. "Salt is a very important part of food, you know. Salt and meat."

Ember quirked an eyebrow. "I thought too much salt is a bad thing. Same with too much fatty meat."

She probably should have kept quiet. Lunch Lady's expression turned into a scowl, and she all but screeched, "Are you questioning my nutritional knowledge?"

Ember had met ghosts, but somehow, this lunch lady was more terrifying. Ember faltered and stammered, "Um, uh..."

She was saved by the large dirt explosion outside. Lunch Lady jumped and leaned forward, trying to look out the window with wide eyes. The salt container in her hand was in reach.

Ember snatched the salt from her and darted. Lunch Lady yelled at her, but Ember was already running away...toward the explosion she heard come from the track field outside. Somehow, she had a feeling that had something to do with Danny and that other ghost.

She emerged outdoors, and sure enough, Danny lay in a crater in the ground, looking worse for wear. Then Ember looked up at the enemy ghost and did a double take. Walker's body must have been left back inside the school, because the ghost wasn't possessing him anymore, which meant she could see his true, ghostly form.

Being near him set her hairs on edge and filled her with dull dread. He was glowing. His edges were blurry, like an old photograph. His skin was bright green and translucent, showing his skull underneath. He wore a suit that looked like it should have been black but was bleached white, and white sunglasses covered his eyes, although Ember had a feeling they were the same red shade that possessed-Walker had.

The ghost hovered over Danny's bruised form. Danny weakly pushed himself on his elbows, wincing all the way, and said, "Can't we talk about this, Operative?"

The ghost, Operative, retorted, "Sure, once you're in jail."

He aimed a hand at Danny, and Ember could tell he was about to attack. She ran toward him, shouted, "Hey! Want some salt with that?" and swung the salt at him.

Operative flinched--then blinked when the salt went through him without any effect. Ember faltered. "So...salt doesn't work."

"Salt?" Operative smirked. "I've heard about that. It has to be blessed to work against ghosts. And it must be pure salt, not table salt."

"Well, fuck," Ember muttered.

She shrieked and ducked out of the way as Operative ghost-blasted the spot where she stood. While she hit the grass, the ghost turned back to Danny and held him up by the neck. Danny was too weak to even struggle in his grip.

Just as Ember was beginning to lose hope, she saw Sidney enter her field of vision. Ember scrambled to her feet and joined him in running toward the ghost. "What did you get?" she asked.

Sidney, poor non-athletic nerd that he was, was panting too much from the process of sprinting as fast as he could to really talk, but he didn't need to. He stopped a short distance away from Operative and held up the object he brought for everyone to see: a reflective silver mirror.

Operative turned his head away from Danny for a moment to look at the mirror. "What is that? Do you want me to see my reflection?"

Ember was wondering about his plan, too. A mirror didn't sound very useful against ghosts. Even Sidney looked uncertain of himself, his knees knocking together in terror.

To his credit, he bravely ignored his fear and ran screaming at the ghost, swinging his mirror right down at him. She thought she saw the ghost's eyes widen at the last moment before he disappeared right into the mirror, somehow sucked up by the silver. Danny fell on his butt as Operative was gone.

Ember picked up her jaw and asked, "What was that?!"

"I have no idea," Sidney admitted, still wide-eyed from the fact his plan worked. "I just remembered hearing some stories about silver working against werewolves and vampires and guessed it must do something about ghosts, too."

"That was brilliant," Danny said, smiling from his spot on the ground. He was bruised all over and had second degree burns on his palms, but other than that, he seemed fine.

Now that the big scary ghost was gone and Ember's heartbeat was settling, she crossed her arms at Danny and said, "You didn't answer my question from earlier. Danny Phantom?"

"Right," Danny said, reaching to rub his neck then stopping when that made him wince. "Ghosts don't usually use each others' real names. It's...personal, I guess. So everyone goes by a nickname."

"That's why you don't like us calling you Daniel Fenton," Ember said, remembering the way he flinched when he got called that in the graveyard and at Sidney's--the same way he flinched just now as she said that.

"Yeah," he said. "That ghost we just fought, Operative...well, he's lucky because no one even knows his real name. He worked with the government back when he was alive. Everyone just calls him by his title--or the Guy in White."

"That makes sense, considering how blindingly white his suit was."

Sidney suddenly yelped, and Ember turned toward him to see that he had dropped his mirror onto the ground. She looked down at it and understood why. A swirling fog appeared on its surface before it morphed into the Guy in White's face.

She jumped when the ghost brought a fist forward and at pounded at the mirror's surface--but the mirror didn't even vibrate, much less fracture. He continued to pound uselessly and growled, "You can't keep me in this relic forever. Just as you can't escape your punishment. You're upsetting the balance between life and death. You--"

Sidney crouched and flipped the mirror over so that its reflective surface was lying face down against the dirt. The Guy in White's voice was muffled.

Danny crawled to them and struggled to push himself up. Ember went to his side and helped him stand, and as soon as he did, she recoiled and asked, "Where did your bruises go?"

Most of them were gone, and she watched as the ones that did remain seemed to glow green before fading away. Ember stepped away from him, and he stayed stable on his feet. "Healing," he said. "Injuries aren't permanent to ghosts. I guess I kept that part of me when I got resurrected."

"You brought yourself back from the dead," Sidney said. Ember turned to him and saw him staring at the mirror he had just flipped over. "That ghost mentioned something about balance."

"Dude, the Guy in White is just ghost Walker," Ember said. "He probably comes up with any lame excuse to jail people."

"But maybe he has a point," Sidney argued, glaring at Ember--and at Danny. "What makes you special enough to get ressurected? Why not everyone else who died--like my parents?"

"Sid--"

"No, he's right," Danny said. He hung his head guiltily, gazing down at his hands. The burns on his palms seemed to take longer to heal. "This was a mistake. I thought I could get my parents' invention to work--and I did--but I didn't think about the consequences. Maybe they gave up on it for a reason."

Ember tilted her head. "So...what? You kill yourself again?"

Danny bit his lip and shrugged. "I...I don't know."

Ember glanced between him and Sidney, who was shuffling in place uncomfortably. She thinned her lips and stood straight. "Well, I'm not letting you do that," she said to Danny. "I don't care if you were dead before. You're alive now."

"Technically, I'm only half alive," Danny mumbled. "I still have some ghostly attributes, but..." He glanced uncertainly at Sidney.

Sidney fidgeted, then crossed his arms and sighed. "I guess...if you're human now...there's no point in going against that. You may as well enjoy your time back. I'll accept that. No need to kill yourself."

Danny's shoulders relaxed. Sidney still had his arms crossed, but he didn't look as angry anymore. The muffled voice of the Guy in White still came from the upside-down mirror on the ground.

Ember prodded the mirror with her foot. "So, what do we do with him?"

"Break the mirror?" Sidney suggested.

"No," Danny said. "Who knows if that would get rid of him. It might just release him again."

"I still don't get how he even got here," Sidney said.

Danny shrugged. "A portal? Though, it seems a little convenient that a natural portal would open up right after I got revived..."

"Or maybe he followed you back to the human world," Ember said.

"But he's not alive..." Danny's eyes widened. "Unless--"

He grabbed the mirror off the ground and began to run.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sidney shouted.

Danny turned back to face them. "My revival must have opened a permanent portal," he told them. "I'm going to send Operative back to the Ghost Zone, and I'm going to see my parents."

"A portal? But where?"

Danny met Ember's eyes, and he knew the same thought went through their heads. "My grave," he said. Then he turned around and kept running.

Sidney and Ember glanced at each other in bewilderment. Then Ember shouted, "Wait up!" and ran after Danny.

"Wait! But what about school!" Sidney shouted.

Fuck school, Ember thought. Ghosts, zombies, portals--ever since Danny entered her life, her days became exciting, and there was no way she was missing any second of this.

[blacksheep-alien]

Im gonna go ahead and make a long winded post about a edgy bh6 au that no one wants to read. Sorry but i dont know how to make this into a "read more". Here goes, tadashi dies as usual buuuut the rest of the gang slowly die in horrible ways too. Hiro burries them in the same plot as tadashi and 5 years later all he has is baymax and aunt cass. The villains do their thing and hiro is just so tired of everything. But once the villains manage to kill a handful of civilians, one of them being his aunt. The grief clouds his judgement. Builds a time machine or dimensional vortex (he doesnt care at this point)based of project soaring sparrow to just escape the pain. Once he realizes it worked (there was the obvious chance he could have died)and he's back a few months before the showcase with some of the tech he managed to bring with him (obviously he brought baymax's chip if not just all of baymax) and the armor on his back. He's basically the outcome of the worst timeline version of him. But he ain't gonna stop till (heres the kicker) he doesnt exist (assuming this is how time travel works) tadashi doesnt die but thats just the start. He has to make sure his friends all stay alive too. By. Any means. Necessary. He basically becomes an anti hero that kills everyone who ever managed to kill his friends in the future to get that over with. He's moraly grey and has different armor to throw suspicion off. Kind of looks like hardlight from the series but less pink. He can occasionally get carried away with the whole "I'll rip our happy ending out of the world's cruel cold hands even if it kills me" thing. But its all for the greater good ...right? He calls himself ...something cool I havent decided on yet like "cataclysm" or something cooler than "Hardlight" which is (lets be honest) freaking anything. Okay now that i got that all out of my system. Literally any fanart for this would be awesome but thats asking for a lot. Message me if you want to though!

[disbeautifulboy]

A Normal Christmas

That familiar metallic scraping sound, a grinding... and was that a flashing light, a beacon?

‘No,’ Barbara told herself. The noise came from behind her, the direction of the kitchen. The flash had been in front, outside, someone’s car headlights as they zoomed past much too fast on their usually quiet road.

“Only me with the turkey, sorry, Barbara!” came another recognisable sound, a source of comfort for so many long years.

Barbara sighed and gazed out at the desolate Christmas Day scene outside. No snow yet - it was much too unseasonably warm for that - but still a chill ran through her.

She had been having that dream again. The same recurring dream she had had for immeasurable years.

It always got worse at Christmas: the longing. Despite knowing it had been her choice, her will to leave that life behind her, Barbara knew she had never quite rationalised it. How could one even start to process the things she had seen, the wonders she had witnessed, the pain and suffering she had endured? Like a flood, visions of monsters and creatures appeared before her, in perfect detail even though the drudging passage of time had eroded her memories of that precious period.

“It’s still not right you know,” the voice behind her continued, footsteps careful and aware. “I think either the ovens on the blink again or I didn’t put it in early enough.”

Barbara turned slowly and remembered why she had decided to leave that life long behind her.

“Still, plenty of time for the bird to brown off!”

Ian, oh, wonderful, kind, normal Ian. Through her life at Coal Hill, through that strange and miraculous time with dear Susan and her mysterious, unknowable Grandfather, through her years of post traumatic stress and trying to deal with everything she had seen, he had been there. Never questioning, never pushing her more than she was capable of.

They had settled down into their routine quickly enough. Having been unceremoniously left in 1965, their positions at Coal Hill School still open, both Ian and Barbara had returned to teaching with a new fervour. Their sojourn to far flung galaxies, magical and wondrous planets and the depths of the universe had instilled them with a wonder for the simplest of things around them. But all too soon, the grey, uniform streets of London had zapped them of that imagination, that zest for life. Barbara had found she quickly grew tired of living still.

She felt his comforting, knowing arms wrapped around her, and sighed deeply. Another Christmas Day, and she was sure he would lay the table for four like always. That was how she liked it, for the feeling of hope that spread through her filled her with a loving warmth.

For she knew that somewhere out there, somewhere far, somewhere unknown, he would be zooming through the vortex of space in that tiny wooden box. He would be battling Daleks, visiting Aztecs or Romans, scurrying down a metallic corridor. Barbara smiled wide as she remembered the Doctor, her Doctor. She knew Ian would be thinking of him too, his white flowing hair squashed under his peaked hat, his cloak billowing, his cane tucked under his arm like a sword.

“I love you, Barbara,” Ian whispered.

“I love you too, Ian,” she replied, taking his hand in hers.

———————————————————

Im sorry it’s a bit rushed @lesbian-donna-noble I Hope you enjoy and once I get 10 minutes I’ll extend it I promise! :) have a great Christmas!

[pinesprings]

Aetea: Chapter 2

(Just give me a reason, why is it so hard to find one)

Chapter One

Summary: The can of worms is open but it's not the only thing that is. Hearts get poured out somewhere amidst the action and the aftermath

Notes: It's finally here! Took longer than I expected. This is twice as long as the 1st chapter due to.. personal reasons. Im treating you fluff today uwu. I certainly do hope it's better than my anxiety is telling me it is. Anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: child abuse, blood and violence, head injury, injuries, panic attacks I guess. In one word, angst.

Reading Time: 28 mins (3.5k words)

Or read here on ao3

***

It wasn't supposed to go this way. No, no. It was supposed to be fine.

This did not qualify as fine.

But like lives are not supposed to sail in the storm and the storm is not supposed to help death outrun their years by sinking them beneath the waves and foam, things don't always go as planned.

JJ's body wasn't supposed to look so broken and Kiara's hands weren't supposed to have blood on them. No, her fingers shouldn't have been dyed in this dark crimson of sin.

The remainder of tears stored in her decided to leave her eyes and dance with the blood in her hands, dance with the sin, try to wash it away.

She let out the weakest mumble of despair as realization had hit her. She might have killed someone. She might have-

Her eyes moved frantically between the two bodies slumped over each other, as full of life as all those inanimate objects littering the ground. They were both too still. She gasped at the sight, panic overwhelming her and her senses dimmed by the thought that plagued her brain.

That she had no damn idea what to do.

Kiara kneeled down and gathered all her strength to move the weight of the monster off of her friend. She gritted her teeth in a feckless attempt to free the blonde boy from being crushed by the man.

Even unconscious, he was still causing him pain.

She cursed under her breath before pushing again with all her might and managing first to shove the man to the side, then to get ahold of the boy, pulling him on top of the mess of tangled limbs.

"JJ! JJ can you hear me?" she practically yelled at his bruised face, her voice cracking under the pressure. Not getting an answer, she swallowed the throbbing pain wanting to escape her throat and tried to put some kind of order in her pounding head.

Heartbeat. She had to check his heartbeat.

She wiped her palms on her thighs to rid them of the sweat. A pointless action, since the fluid kept escaping through her pores, itching her skin as it fell down in thick droplets.

Taking a deep breath, Kiara placed her fingers on his neck and by the time thirty seconds had passed and she could calculate the rythm of his pulse, she was ready to faint.

It was fast, but steady.

A breath that she wasn't able to let out before evaded her lips, along with a relieved chuckle. His heart sounded just like any heart should. Still, his breathing was ragged. She figured it was because of the state of his ribs and nose. His entire body was covered in scrapes and the various bruises had already started dyeing purple patches of skin.

She was dreadfully sure she had heard something break, perhaps right before she had…

Right before she had potentially murdered someone in cold blood.

Oh god.

Sweat started showering her again, an insufferable heat urging her to try -and fail- to catch her breath. Drowning in vague but persistent ramblings racing through her brain, Kie felt like she could throw up any minute.

Should she call 911?

Should she check if the monster is still alive?

She should call.

But first check.

But what if..

…what if he's dead?

For a solid minute the single thing she felt capable of doing was pacing back and forth while frantically pulling at her hair, as if she was plucking the weed from the field of her mind, so that she could plant a sensible contemplation.

Resisting the ever growing urge to vomit she crouched next to the unconscious body of the man, reluctantly raising her hand above his nose. In a swift flare of his nostrils warm air blew against her palm.

A sniffle escaped her as she withdrew her hand from the repulsive face.

She sat down, her head facing her bent knees. Another one. A tear followed.

Slowly tears were falling like currents destined to ford countries and forests of her cheeks to end up in the sea of her lap. She let each and every muscle in her body relax and fall down, mirroring that one wall that falls and lets the enemy breach.

Surrendered to the sensation of emerging from the moonlit waves and breathing in the midnight breeze.

Rich, chestnut waves a crown on her head as it arose to face the ceiling, or perhaps what laid beyond, and while the tears were still fresh carving their path down her skin, she started laughing.

Laughing so loud it almost sounded hysterical. Nothing made sense anymore so why should that matter?

"I'm not a bloody murderer" she announced in between laughs, the knot in her stomach starting to dissolve just an inch. Taking a deep, shuddering breath she whipped her phone out from the back pocket of her shorts and dialed those three numbers every soul knows by heart.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I--"

Kiara suddenly froze. She turned to look at JJ's broken form with guilt in her eyes. That was it. Questions would be asked and the answers required would simply birth more problems. The wolves had chased them and they had run, but now they had come all the way to the start of the cliff.

They would have to learn how climb down the rocks. To survive.

"Miss?"

Her attention shifted back to the ongoing call as she took a deep breath before spitting out those next sentences that would save her JJ, but could perhaps doom him.

"Two people are injured. Badly" she declared with an unnaturally casual tone. She flinched at how cruel and unfeeling she sounded after having been drained of the pearly tears. Numb, she ventured. Yeah, that should be the word.

After having shared their location and been told that a bus would probably arrive there in less than fifteen minutes, Kiara sat down on the edge of the couch with her gaze fixed on JJ's closed shut eyes. She pictured those wonderful blue eyes, captivating depths of the ocean, waves inviting, that could devour you in a heartbeat, bringing you down beneath the horizon, the warm rays bathing your salty skin in the sunlight like a faraway promise of safety. Like home.

She always felt secure with JJ. When she could smell his scent of carefree summer and admire his loose strands of hair flowing with the gentle wind like golden sand reshaping the desert hills, she felt untouchable. Clear dominance over her self, only she could dictate her destiny, in spite of any concept of fate. Ironically enough, it was not her will that demanded she quenched her thirst in the radiant oasis that were his eyes, amidst the fervor of his blazing smile.

I'm getting carried away, she reminded herself and dismissed the thoughts with a shake of her head.

She decided it would be best if she didn't attempt to wake him up. It would serve no purpose other than she'd have an easier time waiting, the knot in her stomach would have begun to untangle.

Her fingers absentmindedly toyed with her bracelets while her concerned glare lingered on JJ's limp form. Instinctively, her grip tightened on the bright colored beads when her eyes met with the purple patches of skin. They looked like a spiraling vortex, bizarre black holes embroidered on his soft epidermis.

Kiara was exhausted of witnessing the manifestation of his father's corruption on his body. She yearned to feel him in the safety of her lap, her breath caressing his ear with soft whispers of comfort. And when his wounds would heal she wished they never reappeared, no secret pain staining his teasing smirk after he had found yet another way to mess with her.

The ambulances arrived shortly indeed. Father and son were loaded inside the vehicles while paramedics tended to the most urgent wounds. Kiara played along the lines of being too shaken up to provide any answer to questions, which wasn't that far from reality. She reached her parents' car, loyally waiting parked a few feet away from the house and turned on the engine.

Following closely behind the vehicles as they rode to the hospital she utilized the few minutes to try and conjure a scenario that would explain what happened as painlessly as possible, but the thoughts kept slipping through her mind. Her grip was tight on the stirring wheel, the knuckles on her clammy hands assuming an almost deathly tint.

He's going to be alright, that was all she kept repeating in her brain like a poem.

Maybe if she said it enough she would believe it.

***

"Hey.. hey, you're awake"

JJ's eyelids drowsily fluttered open only to wince at the immense brightness his pupils were greeted with. He begrudgingly welcomed the cold, emotionless white light while his eyes adjusted to the silhouette looming over him only a breath's distance away.

Kie, he figured, if the soft voice and lovely smile were anything to go by.

JJ sighed in relief at the familiar presence lending her warmth to his waking body, estranged by his surroundings. Or perhaps that's what he would have done, had the air not caught on his chest and diminished into a spark of flame that burnt more and more as it licked his bones and climbed up his ribcage. The pain elicited a faint wheezing sound from his lips, the later which parted with a difficulty that could only indicate they had been sealed together only for a significant amount of time. He didn't release the breath before the inferno flaring inside his chest dissolved into a dull fit of throbs.

"What's wrong? JJ! Are you alright?" she whispered-shouted somewhat frantically, the undercurrent of panic mildly enhancing her as usual gentle voice.

JJ simply nodded, his teeth still grinding to help deal with the pain born from what he assumed was a broken rib.

A quick -although dizzy- glance around the room was enough to confirm that he was in fact in a hospital room, and soon the pale mechanical beeping of a machine perched behind Kiara shifted into his focus, enhancing the whole 'hospital aesthetic'.

" 'ey Kie…" JJ barely rasped out. His throat felt as dry as a sun-cooked raisin- a weird metaphor but it was the one that dared materialize into a thought. Nevertheless, his words were accompanied by a sleepy smile.

"miss m?"

A genuinely joyous grin was plastered on her features as soon as his breath tinged his vocal cords to produce the melody of speech. The exhale of air that left her body was long, perhaps releasing two breaths caught at once.

The skin around his nose was itching him but his limbs felt way too heavy to lift, so he let them stay warmly tucked beside his torso. The pleasant heat and smell of the freshly washed sheets spread across his body made it even harder to wish to move.

Kiara's face lit up with realization as her brain processed the way his voice was hoarse and rough, deducing that JJ's throat was most likely in need of hydration after that many hours of being asleep.

"Do you want anything? Water?" she offered, already pouring some of the transparent liquid in a spare cup from the stack on the bedside table. The sound was almost soothing but JJ willed himself awake. Making a huge effort to regain motion in his arm to press the button that tilted the bed so that he was no longer lying down, his fingers found his nose to scratch away the itch, only to be met with the rough feel of a cast.

Kiara practically shoved the cup into his hands.

"Here. Drink" she ordered and he complied, gulping down the liquid greedily. The pain awakened in almost every part of his body but he ignored it, instead reveling in the pleasant velvety coolness of the water.

"How are you feeling?" Kie asked him as she plucked the halfway empty cup from his fingers and placed it next to the telephone on the bed stand. Looking at her a bit better he could make out dark circles underneath her eyes. She looked overall tired and pale.

"Just peachy" he yawned. "What happened?"

"After…?"

"You know" he sighed bitterly

"He- You.. almost woke up a couple of times. Like, your eyes stirred a couple times, you probably don't remember. The doctors said you were lucky because you had no brain damage, but you still-"

JJ shook his head.

"I meant, how come he stopped using me as a piñata"

Kiara stopped and stared at him for a second -perhaps hurt by the choice of words- before her shoulders drooped and she leaned into the chair.

"I… I smashed a vase over his head"

"You did what?" JJ asked while a sly grin grew on his face. He chuckled incredulously, which he immediately regretted when the searing white pain rumbled in his chest.

"He's still alive" she said with pursed lips, almost as if she considered the outcome unfortunate.

He searched her eyes for as long as it took him to sober up again and for the severity of the situation to sink in again.

"Here?" he mumbled, dark shadows making his eyes misty.

Kiara simply nodded solemnly. Her brows remained firmly in a deep frown as they fell in a brief moment of uncomfortable hush. The thoughts neither of them was brave enough to voice were sure to invade every cell of his mind as he gazed groggily up at the IV leading nutrients and all that medical mumbo jumbo he didn't know to the catheter penetrating his forearm.

Just as he was about to ask for more details two swift knocks prompted both their heads to turn to the door. The ivory painted wood was shunted aside to reveal a woman dressed in the pearl white robe of a doctor over scrubs.

"Good morning mister Maybank."

JJ flinched at the name.

"I'm dr. Garcia, you're my patient for today" she said primly, uncrossing her arms from the chart balanced against her chest. "I see you've woken up! Don't worry, I'm just going to check a few things and change your casts"

"Whatever you need do, doc" he said with shallow fervor.

By the time traces of sweet cologne were all left in the room from dr. Garcia, any tension in the atmosphere between them had dissipated. JJ's thoughts were less blurry, his mind perhaps had awaken, but with it arose freshly painful memories and the loose ends they brought.

The previous evening kept repeating and playing in his brain much alike scratched vinyl, stuck to the same part of a song, condemned never to leave the nicked words behind. As his senses felt the terror all over only without the rage to numb the pain, his ears remembered a sound he wouldn't think he could forget, even for that short amount of time.

A million faces changed on his skin as he pondered and gathered the courage to bring the issue up, afraid phrasing would take the dream away and crush it like a flimsy piece of foil. The accelerated beeping of the machine mirroring the crazy thumping of his heart against his ribcage only betrayed him further.

"Hey, Princess?" he said cautiously, but to his ears it sounded like a desperate whimper. He gulped and plastered his best nonchalant expression on his features before resuming. "Do you remember when I decked him in the face, what you told me. Did you mean it?"

Even JJ himself could realise how pathetic of an attempt at his voice not shaking that was. The lump in his throat made it immensely more difficult to speak, combined with the throbbing pain in his chest that visited at every passage of air through him.

"What I said- Oh. "

She fixed her gaze on the ground, smiling sheepishly. Before she hid her face out of JJ's eyesight he managed to catch a glimpse of her furiously blushing cheeks. He didn't know what to make of it.

"Did you mean it?"

Kiara looked at him, fidgeting restlessly. She hugged her torso, brushing her blouse soothingly with her fingers. Whether she picked up at the way the machine beeped almost as persistently as a heart attack, she didn't show it.

One brief intake of breath that could have lasted for a decade. To say JJ had been hanging from her lips would be an understatement.

One inhale, and then the answer.

"Yes"

The blonde gawked at her, stunned.

"I meant it"

JJ shook his head, leering back a little.

"But what about Pope? I thought.."

The girl waved her hand dismissively.

"There's nothing between me and Pope. If anything we're more of siblings. I had this discussion with him too, I just" she paused, "I hadn't found an opportunity to tell you -well, until now"

She peered at him expectantly but JJ was malfunctioning.

She bit her lower lip.

"You know, after the entire gold fiasco.. John B's disa-.."

Her voice broke at the mention of their friend. The heel of her palm shot up to wipe at the welled up corner of her eye. "I needed.. something- someone to hold on to. Like an anchor"

"But I guess deep down even before then, I knew. I wanted you to be my anchor." she paused, smiling bitterly.

"I've known for a while. I like you, and a lot"

JJ was glitching like his cousin Kyle's relic of a laptop, perfectly mimicking a deer caught in front of headlights. His mouth opened and closed right back as he fumbled for words. He could practically sense a blush creeping in and painting all over his cheeks and underneath the cast.

Kiara giggled timidly, burying her face in her palms.

"You know what just forget it"

"-But I've made so many moves!" JJ finally blurted out, tone almost accusatory.

"What?"

Kiara sat back straight and stared at him, only traces of shame remaining in her eyes, for it gave way to bafflement.

"You always rejected me, so I accepted that nothing between us would ever happen" he frowned.

"JJ." she grinned as she caught on with his claims, "Joking about my ass doesn't count as a move"

"I-" he tried, looking mock-offended "It's a lovely ass!"

Kiara laughed and JJ loved it, cherished the sound melodious and calming like the gurgling of refreshing spring water.

His own burbling laughter blended with hers in perfect sync, in spite of his ribs protesting in ache.

"Seriously, I did. Numerous times" he mumbled somberly.

"Yeah, yeah, you sure did" she teased, raising her eyebrows smugly. "…so?"

"So.. you like me a lot, huh?" JJ teased loftily, gifting her a lopsided grin. His chest burned like a wildfire, and this time it wasn't due to the hurt.

The taunt earned him a scoff.

"Yeah?" Kie raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"Well I like you a lot too" he said simply. His smirk melted into a sincere smile filled with love and uncertainty.

He felt bare, naked.

Aflutter, the boy apprehensively regarded the girl, what now his heart was exposed and offered as a promise he was afraid would be refused to be made.

The girl looked at him almost fondly as he struggled not to cower in the comfort of the sheets. The heat almost felt unbearable all of a sudden and the skin beneath the gauze and casts felt damp and itchy.

"You sure I'm not dead?" he gulped, "Cause this feels a lot like-"

Whatever muffled words followed were drowned out as Kiara cautiously leaned in and planted her salty lips on his, tucking her loose strands of hair behind one ear. JJ simply stared with his not swollen eye open wide at the soft lips encompassing his skin in their warmth, before he gave in to the kiss.

-Heaven

It was tender, fragile, an intimate moment as they shared their love, in whatever form they knew love to be. Gently, carefully, like being afraid that the full strength of their passion would shatter the other with as much ease as a fire would crumple the edges of love poem-filled paper.

She took the offering.

Suddenly the two were one and a whole, like the notes of a harpism finding their place in the melody, only to be sung and forever treasured in the minty aftertaste of raindrops on twilit grass. Their flesh demanded to be melt in the heat of one another, and then the beads to be intertwined as they bloomed into smoldering flames.

Kiara pulled back but the memory of her taste was imprinted on JJ's lips, leaving him breathless.

"I love you"

They could be eachother's reason.

"Love you too, idiot"

For as long as it made sense.

[fart-gate]

SG1

Season 4 episode 6

"WINDOW OF OPPORTUNITY"

Notes by me

- lovely set for the beginning. Vast wasteland

- jack using double sunglasses to look at the sun

- archeologist!Daniel is my favorite Daniel

- who is this guy

- no explanation as to who he is??? Hes just there???

- daniel had the opportunity to hear Latin spoken aloud a year ago??? I have a terrible memory when did this happen

- ok cool so Daniel is shot and we're having a good time but??? Still no explanation for this random guy

- when they all duck to avoid the vortex. Sg1 in sync

- LIGHTENING GATE

- "I have no idea, sir" some random side character got daniels line

- zapped back to breakfast!! This is what you get for eating cereal without milk!

- obsessed with how Daniel thinks Jack is the type of person to fake a blackout to get out of a conversation

- P4X 639 is the vast wasteland

- tealc remembers!!! Bc he also grabbed the dude as well as Jack right?? Im right

- "maybe he read your report?..."

Daniel:

- jack and tealc just listing things that are gonna happen

- watching this show in semi darkness always bites me in the ass fraiser shining a flashlight into the camera just made me fall off my bed

- malaki is the name of the random dude! Thank you for the info after 10 MINUTES INTO THE EPISODE

- nerd Daniel is cute❤ when he chases Jack to talk to him about the ancients

- apparently siler needs better glasses so he doesnt walk right into ppl. Daniel dropped all his notes!

- jack seems like he just does not care about anything at all in this ep . maybe RDA was having a bad day

- "it did send us back to 1969"

"Good year"

- sam: talks sciencey science

Jack and me: ??????

- LIGHTENING GATE

- "what do you think?" TIME LOOPS ARE ONE OF MY FAV TROPES YEESSS

- wait I need to pause the ep to put socks on my feet are cold

- when Jack predicts sg12 and hes off by like 8 seconds

- GODAMMIT fraiser and her stupid flashlight blinded me again

- daniel wrote down everything Jack said when he had ancient database brain damage

- *Daniel gets knocked over by siler a second time* "oops"

- *referring to tealc* "is this the face of a crazy man????"

- I dont trust this malaki at all

- "what kind of archeologist carries a weapon?"

"I do"

"......bad example"

- daniel ranting *time loops back* daniel ranting

- Jack getting more mad with every loop

- I was ready for the flashlight this time

- "I ask you....what could POSSIBLY be in my eye that could explain this??"

- jack going to find Daniel before Daniel finds him ❤

- if I hadnt seen gifs of this ep, I would think sams plan would work. But since ive seen gifs of parts that havnt happened yet I assume it doesnt work.

- what could be stopping them from dialing out 🤔 I'm gonna solve the mystery before they do

- "thats just how I feel about it" what is Daniel talking about I want to know

- jack: my recording didnt work :(

Tealc: TOLD YOU SO

- them getting out of the loop rests on Jack and tealcs ability to listen to Daniel

- tealc getting wacked in the face every loop I'm cackling

- okay why does everyone in the sgc have glasses huh??? Bunch of nerds

- *spinning in chair* *juggling* *both juggling* this is just adhd

- "if we dont find a way out of this soon I'm gonna lose it.

Lose it.

It means go crazy.

Nuts.

Insane.

Bonzo.

No longer in possession of ones faculties.

3 fries short of a happy meal!

WACKO!"

- daniel giving them the idea that they can do whatever they want without consequences and mischievous music starting

- hes gonna seduce Sam pls I want it

- why is the first thing Jack does POTTERY????

- anything on the board and you go for pottery

- tealc cruising along with whatever Jack is doing

- ok so far its been pottery, biking thru the sgc , hitting golf balls thru the gate

- I was right ! HE DIPPED HER💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖🚨JACK AND SAM KISS JACK AND SAM KISS🚨

- she totally went along with it too. I have eyes i saw it

- "what are you smiling at?" He be knowin how them lips taste 💋

- ancients caused this. So far all they do is start shit

- ok they invented a "time machine" and it failed and looped time instead so they just shut it off and left it on a random planet for some poor sucker to activate??? Why didnt they destroy it??

- all they have to do is press some buttons omg all that time with Daniel was pointless

- tealc: walks into a force shield

Malaki: 😎

- Jack is ready to murder

- "so you can be king of groundhog day?"

- HIS WIFE

- tealc ready to go home to BED

- no glasses daniel🤓

- sorry ur wife died bro but other ppl are in this loop too. Dont be selfish

- "I can.....touch her face again. Talk to her. Hear her laugh."

Jack knows how you feel bro but still

- "I LOST MY SON!" :(

- it was 2 buttons??? All of that????? And it was 2 buttons???? Smdh

- they ve been stuck in this time loop for 3 months!!! Jack missed so many simpsons episodes!!!

- daniel: what crazy things did you do bc you knew no one would remember ??

Jack: *silently stares at sam and eats oatmeal*

Tealc whump: repeatedly hit in face with door (only shown twice), walks into force shield, passed out

Daniel: stunned, passed out, dragged

🎶listening to Keep Me Crazy by Sheppard🎶 for jack slowly going insane but still using the loop to kiss Sam

🤓no glasses!Daniel for less than 10 minutes at end of episode