#is this what its like to send a kid to college? I feel like I'm sending my kid out to sea and I have to wait on the shore til they come bac

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

The Mermaid

Dhawan!Master x Fem!Reader

A/N: This started out as an archetype character study. And now, a year and three months later, its one of the best stories I've ever written, with some of the best smut I've put to the page. Oh how the turn tables. Vibes: Mermaids and Cassandra by Florence + the Machine, and Abstract (Psychopomp) and DeSelby (Part 2) by Hozier Also, I want to give a huge shout out to @insane-brit for beta reading this for me! She was the biggest support as I was writing this story and I can't thank her enough for her feedback!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: You and the Master are visiting a human colony far, far in the future. But there’s a species native to this planet which plagues the small ocean-front village. Mermaids they’re called. After the old Earth myths. When the villagers attempt to separate you and the Master, they realize all too late the mistake they've made. When a storm rolls in and and an eerie shape crawls up the shore, the village shuts it's doors and you and the Master must face the consequences of their actions. Will you and the Master reunite? Or will the Mermaids take a bite out of the old Timelord's hearts?

Warnings: 18+, No Minors, Explicit Sexual Content✨if you’re younger than 18 or have no age in your bio, I will not hesitate to block you.✨ Sexual Warnings: Porn With Plot, Sex + Telepathy = Needy Whiny Timelord, So Much Kissing, Dry Humping, Clothed Sex (sorta), Thigh Worship, Licking, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, So Much Praise, Switching/Undefined Power Dynamics, Eventually Service Dom Master, Fingering, Nipple Play, Unprotected PIV Sex, The Most Reverent Smut I’ve Ever Written, Post-Sex Cuddles Warnings Unrelated to Smut: imagery of drowning/character nearly drowning; storms, thunder and lightning; alien possession; blood/bloody imagery/mild gore; minor character death; the reader is described as having hair, though length isn’t specified; the reader is described with a certain eye color, but that’s the result of an *ehem* temporary condition and isn’t meant to be the reader’s real eye color; characters considering their death; pining; angst with a happy ending; this man is whipped for you. I think that's all, but let me know if anything else needs added!

Word Count: 17.1k

Masterlist!

His fingertips barely brushed yours. It was enough to feel your touch, but not enough to take hold of your hand before the village men dragged you out of his reach.

The Master’s hearts plummeted, adrenaline raged through his veins as he tried to run after you. He jolted hard to break the grip of his captors, but the village men held strong, keeping him in place as the others dragged you to the edge of a nearby cliff.

The Master cried out your name, still trying to pull himself free from the hands digging into his shoulders and sides. His hearts were racing, he couldn’t breathe, images of you falling into the sea played over and over and over again, jolting through his mind in a blind panic.

“Throw me over instead! Throw me to the Mermaids! Do anything you want with me! Just let her go!” He demanded of the villagers.

“Hush, heathen!” One of the men admonished, slapping the Master across the face. “The Mermaids are hungry and the woman is unimportant! You are all we need tonight!” The man approached the Master, his hot breath dragging across the timelord’s face, “And believe me alien, were it not for the request of our gods, you would both be over the cliff tonight! There is no place for your godless practice in this settlement!”

The villager’s face contorted with the deepest, most seething rage he could muster. His face reddened, eyes wild and mad, and his fists clenched white. And yet it paled in comparison to the budding fury searing hot across the Master’s face. This growing, heaving anger blooming in his chest would squash the villager’s life force like the tiny, insignificant insect it was.

But then he heard your voice, your scared, strained voice, crying out for him and it all died in an instant — his rage fizzling out until only concern remained.

The Master’s eyes snapped to you, but it was too late. He only got a glimpse of your terrified eyes before you were thrown over the cliff side, crying to the gray foaming ocean below.

“No!” The Master yelled, trying once more to pull himself to the edge. He managed to break the villagers’ hold on him for a second, budging a few inches closer to the cliff. He wanted to see you. He had to see you. Certainly you’d caught a rock on the cliff side, or you were able to hang onto the edge somehow. You just—you had to. You had to have survived. You couldn’t leave him. Not now. Not when—

–he heard the splash of your body landing in the cold waves below. He froze. His mind went blank and all the seaside fell silent. There was no more hungry wailing. No more pleas for help. Even the drums were quiet for a moment.

Pain shot up his knees when they hit the ground. The grass beneath him was cold and hard. The Master’s eyes were still fixed on the edge of the cliff as a massive, heaving weight settled in his hearts. Even the dusky sky, with all its cloudless stars, couldn't console him. The comfort he usually found in the endless night sky was hollow and empty as tears pooled in his eyes. He didn’t fight when the villagers started to drag him away, staining his billowing linen shirt with the dirt you’d been standing on. He just kept staring at the spot, hoping mindlessly, begging for you to reappear or for him to wake up from whatever nightmare this was.

But nothing happened.

And the only thing he felt was the gravel beneath his feet as the men dragged him away.

The water hit you hard. The cold cut through your clothes, your skin, your muscles, all the way down to the bone until you were sure you’d never move again. Your eyes burned in the saltwater. The sky was blurred beneath the waves. Even the brightest stars didn’t make it through the blinding waters.

You felt somewhere between life and death. The waving, lapping surface above slowly disappeared as you sank into the deep blue vignette below. You wanted to swim to the surface - every synapse fired, jolts of electricity begging you to reach out, to grasp at the water until you found air, but your limbs wouldn’t move. They hung at your side like lead, dragging you down toward the sea floor. The water was cold and pain screamed throughout your body and you just kept sinking.  

And sinking 

And sinking

Until something brushed against your leg, trailing behind it a melodic hum.

You jolted - your body awakened from its frozen stun. Your lungs burned and your body ached, but despite that, you fumbled with your floating linen dress to find the knife you’d strapped to your thigh. 

In a matter of moments, you were swarmed by ravenous, hungry beings — native aliens if you remembered what the Master had said. Their huge eyes shined shades of blue and silver in the shallow water, their gray bodies slim and gaunt with hunger. Their thick, long tails glittered when they got close enough to the surface and—

The Master!

What—what had happened to him? What did they do to him after you fell? You remembered hearing him cry your name as you fell, but after that, there was only the cold, wet sea. You didn’t know where he was. Your heart was racing, beating out of your chest as if trying to beat its way to the surface. You had to get back to him. You had to find him. You—

You jolted as a searing, stinging pain stabbed through your shoulder, waking you again from your panicked recollection. 

You shook your head and swung the dagger, slashing blindly at the aliens around you. The blade slashed something - one of their tails if you guessed - and a dark, thick substance bled into the water.  

The melodic humming wrenched into screeches, scraping dissonance in your ears. It hurt. You wanted to run away, far away, and never hear that awful screaming again. But the water was so thick and you were so tired and your shoulder hurt. The pain was still coursing down your arm, thick and burning in your blood.

The mermaids still swarmed, biding time to see if you were prey they could ravage for their hungry, bloody mouths to feast upon. They swam around you like a frenzied beast made of so many hungry, bloodthirsty things. They moved in some undulating shape surrounding you, growing ever closer, still screeching into the waters. 

You lashed out again, slashing what felt like one of their gray, lifeless faces with your small knife. For once, you were glad the Master had insisted you take some sort of defense with you. The thick, bloody substance was warm against your hand, distracting you from the wailing uproar.

With one last slash, the mermaids broke apart their frenzy and dove to the deep, leaving you to float among their blood. Perhaps they were too weak to fight for their food, or they saw you as too much of a danger to hunt. You didn’t care. 

Your shoulder burned, but at least it was keeping you awake. You did your best to right yourself in the ocean and tread the darkening water. The cold night air nearly took the breath from your lungs once you broke the surface, but that didn’t matter. You could see the shore. You weren’t too far off. You just had to make it to the sand, then you could rest. Then you could breathe. 

You tried to swim. Despite your shoulder and your aching muscles and the ever-biting cold, you tried, but with every move you felt that horrid pain seep through your blood again. It burned worse and worse with every movement until everything felt ablaze. Your throat, your fingertips, your ears, even your skin felt like it was seizing with white-hot pain. You did your best to stay awake, but by now you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even breathe. You only felt the raging, convulsing pain twitch through your body before you succumbed to it and the dark waves surrounding you.

The grainy sand was rough against your face.  

The sand?

When had you…?

You blinked. The breeze was cold. Icy waves stung your body as they rolled onto shore. You shivered as you tried to lift yourself off your stomach. Your whole body ached from…from what?  

The Mermaids. Right. You’d been thrown into the ocean and they swarmed you. You fought them off with a knife and then…

Your shoulder burned and you were quick to press your hand to it, trying to remember why it hurt so much.

Night had fallen since you blacked out, the jeweled sky winked and blinked down at you. The moon shone beautiful and alluring in the corner of your eye. It reminded you of someone.

Who…who was it? Who did it remind you of? It was right there on the tip of your tongue. He was your friend….Your best friend…someone you—

You felt something change - something tick, and suddenly, blooming hot across your chest was a seething, thundering, rage. 

And then the rain began to fall.

The villagers didn’t worry about the rain. They lived by the shore. Storms were common; even more so at this time of the year. 

But some who lived closer to the shore noticed a shape crawling its way up the sand towards the village. It pulled itself from the water like it was made of the water, dripping muddy sand and salt from its long, clawed fingertips.  

As the creature drew closer to the village, the more curious residents tried to get a better look, and those with a strong will to live drew themselves and their children back into their white, wooden, thatched houses.   

As the shape drew closer, those curious few noticed, as it stood, that its silhouette was vaguely human-shaped. It seemed like…but no, it couldn’t have been…but anyone who saw the shape approaching, they could tell you: it looked like a woman. Like a human woman. She wore a linen dress, stained by the ocean water and what looked like blood. Her floating gait dragged her up the shore, closer and closer to the cast-iron gateway that separated the village from the sea. But there was no way a person could come from the sea like that. This small village was the only human settlement for miles in any direction. Any islands off the coast were too far to swim from. This woman’s circumstance should be impossible. There was no feasible way unless… 

Some who were watching turned their eyes to the cliffs, then to the sea, then to her, and a shiver ran down their backs. The moonlight seemed to haunt the cliff side and gleam off the waters, and when it refracted off the sea, every beam of light seemed to point to her. Just steps away from the gate, she stepped into the full moonlight, bearing to anyone watching what happened when their ritual went wrong. The woman glowed in the cool light, and something petrifying, something terrifying seemed to roll off her with every rise of her chest, as though every breath she took was stolen from the lungs of those watching her. 

The whole village saw her. From their windows they watched her trudge through their home in some otherworldly, inhuman, alien fashion. Parents covered their children’s eyes for fear of her. Others shuttered their windows. Yet there was some beauty about her. Something alluring, tempting, despite the trail of blood down the back of her dress and the long claws overgrowing the ends of her fingers. Even as the rain muddled her shape and she stepped further and further up the hill, the villagers continued watching as though they couldn’t stop.

One villager, enchanted by her sublime beauty, did not hide as the others had. He stared from his front door as she walked up the cobble road to stand beneath the village’s arched gateway. Her skin was dappled with scales glinting silver in the moonlight. Frilled fins peeked through her wet hair, dripping a halo of droplets to her shoulders. She stopped beneath the archway, closing her eyes and turning her head to the bleak sky. She smelled the air, looking for something, or someone. After a second, after listening to the breeze, she seemed to find what she wanted, turning her head to the church at the end of the road, atop a hill.

The villager was drawn to her, and when he took a step down the stairs of his porch, the stairs creaked – a whining cry for the shining storm ahead.

Her eyes snapped to him, and the villager met the piercing, glowing color of cresting waves and sea foam. Her gaze was made of the sea - just as cold and empty and inhuman as the waters on the horizon. When she looked at him, lightning cracked across the sky, pinning him where he stood. 

He stumbled back up the steps and scrambled his way through the door of his home, trembling as his hand gripped the doorknob. Part of him longed to step back outside and run to her, but the fear with which she had bewitched him trembled in his heart and he settled on watching her through his window. He sent a prayer to his gods in the hope she might pass through their village and cause no harm. Or that the gods might smite her before she could ruin the ritual.

Either way, while she was here, in his line of sight, he would watch her shape disappear through the village, dripping saltwater and seaweed in her wake. He would admire her beauty, and dream of falling to her feet with the rain.The rain itself healed at the tips of her toes. A wall of it as far as the eye can see all falling in line with her every step. She was walking rage, making her way up the main road, prowling to the church like a funeral procession. Her glowing gaze cast only to the stark white steeple. To him.

There was a landing on the way up the hill; A small plaza decorated with white flower garland and a mosaic tiled floor. And on that plaza, there were guards meant to protect those in the church this night. They were little more than regular villagers with guns and spears. Still, they blocked the path to the stark, white building.

The flower garland was heavy, drooping under the weight of the rain, and still it drooped further. With every step she took, the rain fell harder, smattering against the mosaic floor in a sheet of palpable rage. Rainwater puddled in the grout, spilling up and over the tiles until it flooded the plaza. Roaring thunder made the ground tremble. Lightning wailed across the sky. Her eyes flashed silver upon her prey, breathing heavy like some feral creature, hunting, hungry, licking her teeth, yearning for the taste of sweet blood.

One guard, someone she recognized from before, came to stand in her way, blocking her path to the church. He raised his rifle, something threatening in his eyes despite his trembling hands.

“You will not pass us, girl! The ceremony must go uninterrupted! It is the will of our g—“

She ripped her claws through his soft belly, snarling as his eyes widened and slowly glazed over. His throat bubbled with a painful groan, and blood seeped from his lips before he slumped and fell off her claws to the wet mosaic floor. 

The rest of the guards were too scared to move. They stared as she tasted the warm blood from her claws and heard her pleased hum as a twisted smile curled onto her face.

One of the guards whispered, quiet as he could, to the other beside him while the creature was distracted, “This must be one of the mermaids come to shore. I’m sure of it.”

“No,” the other guard refuted, “This is the woman we threw over the cliff! The mermaids must have changed her.” 

“But how?” 

“I don’t know. Though, rumors say only a bite—“ 

Thunder cracked above them, lightning flashing as she pinned the guards with a wrathful glare, her claws licked nearly clean. Any other remaining guards had run off as soon as they snapped out of their shock, leaving these two to the woman. 

They looked to one another and backed away, turning and running and almost tripping over themselves to get away from her. They didn’t even look back to see if she was following them.

She wasn’t. She didn’t care about them. Instead, she wiped any remaining blood from her claws on the dead man’s coat and turned toward the church. Up the hill, she could see faint light shining through the windows and the warm glow from the lamps that hung just outside the front doors like beacons.  

She went to them. Her eyes never left the shuddering old door or the warm halo of light from the oil lamps as she stepped over grass and gravel to reach the church. The rain grew heavier and heavier - a near whiteout by the time she reached the worn, wooden doors. It pummeled her shoulders and thumped angrily against the church’s roof.

With a crack of thunder that shook the small building, she slammed the door open and lightning struck behind her, flashing the small chapel in white-hot light - her warning to all in the small room. 

Through the group of men who had turned to gawk, she saw him – someone…familiar. Someone she knew…someone she—

“We know not what you are, woman,” one of the villagers spat, “but you will not stop the ceremony! The gods have demanded he—“

Once again, she ripped through this villager’s belly, grabbing at his throat to watch him die before dropping his body to the ground.

Some men ran. The others died. She rent their bellies to ribbons, spilling blood from their throats, breaking delicate skin, biting with sharpened fangs, all until the villagers were motionless puddles of blood and viscera, their weapons strewn across the ground, glinting at her feet like seawater.

When all was still, she breathed in and let out a calm, relaxed breath, looking down at her blood-soaked hands and the smatterings on her dress. Rain still pattered on the roof.

A quiet voice called her name. Her name?…She’d forgotten she had a name.  

How do you forget a thing like that? 

She turned to find the voice’s owner tied to a post, shoved down to his knees on the dirty wooden floor. His pants were dusty and stained from the ground. He was looking at her. For a brief second, she smiled at the sight of him. She didn’t know why, so she shook the expression from her face. What was he doing to her? Why had she come for him in the first place?

She knew him. It bothered her. Something about him was familiar to her…somewhere, hidden deep within her, she knew he was important, but despite the feeling of familiarity that bloomed warm and soft when she met his charming, brown eyes, she didn’t know why. Some other part of her mind urged her to kill him like the others, but the only thing she could focus on was the red stain across the chest of his linen shirt. A stain she hadn’t caused.

He called out her name once more.

Her eyes snapped, piercing and unnatural, to his. His voice was honey-smooth and just the sound of it sent waves of calm across her body. With apprehension, she approached him, slowly stepping towards this familiar man. His eyes were wide, staring into her own with something like disbelief in them. Something pulled her to him. Something inside her. Something fond, and happy. Something like–

She couldn’t kill this man. Never him. 

She kneeled in front of him and reached one of her bloodied hands out to hold his face. With the other, she grazed his shirt’s bloody, torn fabric.  

She didn’t know why she reached out to hold this man. Her hands moved on their own. The skin she felt through the ripped linen was cold and cut, but the wound was warm - wet with spilled and still-spilling blood. He was still bleeding. She looked into his eyes for a moment more, then they drifted and followed the dried tear stains on his face down to the wound across his chest.

The Master shuddered. Your hands were cold, touching his skin in ways you never would. You were lifeless behind the glowing eyes that bore into his own - their unnatural shade so unlike your own. Every move you made was stiff, every time you blinked he felt a moment of relief. You were not you. He knew right away. And any time you looked at him, he felt a shiver of the cold ocean ripple down his back. And yet, he still felt the tiniest second of relief when you’d slammed open the church door. Not all was lost. At least not yet.

“Darling, what's happened to you?” He whispered once more, something fearful shaking in his voice. 

Without a word, she rounded the post and cut his ties.

The Master’s arms fell to his side and he took a second to stretch them, touching the burns the ropes had left behind. His eyes never left her though, and he noted the long, talon-like claws that you’d used to cut his ties.

You rounded the post again to face him and offered a bloodied hand to help him up.

He hesitated, but took your outstretched hand, standing as you turned and led him out the chapel door.

There was no other option, really. He never would have left you. Though he hesitated in taking your hand, there was no universe in which he didn’t. You were his companion and you’d been by his side through so much. Even now, you still came to get him. Even when you weren’t entirely yourself. Even when he’d failed you. 

It made him shiver - just the thought of it. He’d failed you. Not even the cold, needle-prick rain falling against his face could shake the thought from his mind. He had watched you fall over the cliff and done nothing to stop it. His mind replayed the splash over and over and over and over and— 

The blood on his face was still warm. It was an odd turn of thought, but a breeze kicked up and he felt the chill of it drying on his cheek. Your bloodied hands were an image he couldn’t get out of his head either. He remembered the faces of the men you’d killed - their surprise, their lifelessness. And with their faces came the same thought:  He’d failed you. Hell, he could hardly get you to carry more than a pocket knife with you - you weren’t a  killer. And yet, because of his failure, you had slaughtered those men in a fashion too similar to his own - all blood and guts and ribbons of unrecognizable flesh. Even now, as you guided him along the cobble path, down to the plaza, he could see the gutted body of another you’d killed and the bloody footsteps you left in your wake. For once, the sight of death and destruction made him nauseous.   

He had imagined dying here. Another odd turn of thought as he followed you down the hill. He would have let it happen. The villagers could have finished their ritual and his body would waste away to nothing under the sandy soil. In Time, even his bones would rot away and feed its ever-churning, ever-ravenous appetite. Or perhaps he would have rested with your body, in the sea - torn apart and eaten by the Mermaids. All in all, dying to the sound of the rain after all these years? It would be an okay way to go. And if you were gone, he was fine with dying. There wasn’t much of a point in traveling without you. You’d changed so much in his life, and all for the better. He was happier now. He saw new beauty in the universe. And you, by the stars, you, were like some sort of…beacon for him. Someone that reminded him what it was like to enjoy life again. You centered him. Grounded him. Even something as simple as your shoes at the TARDIS door were enough to calm him. He couldn’t bear it if you were gone. Those little reminders of your absence – your shoes, your sweater in the library, your favorite book. They would remind him how he failed you; how he never told you he loved you. He couldn’t face it again without you.

He shook away those thoughts. He had something to live for right in front of him. You’d saved him and he had to return the favor. You had smiled when you first saw him - when he said your name. It was just a tiny thing, but it was there for a fraction of a second. That meant you were still alive in there. You had to be. He knew that if you were still alive, you were fighting tooth and nail against whatever was in your head. He knew you wouldn’t give up, so he wouldn’t give up. And goddamnit, he would not fail you again.

The sound of a creaking porch pulled the Master from his thoughts. He felt the villagers’ eyes watching. He saw quick movements in his peripheral - people hastily shutting window blinds and slamming front doors shut. He saw recognition in their eyes. They were practically broadcasting their fear. You must have come this way before. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what the villagers thought of you. You weren’t a monster. You could never be a monster in the Master’s eyes. But all these people knew of you was what the Mermaid had wrought upon you. He was tempted by the thought of setting the place ablaze. It was the villagers’ fault that you ended up like this. Why not make them pay for what they’d done to you?

He knows why though. You would hate it. And then you’d give him that look that punches a hole through his hearts and he’d never be able to recover from that. 

So he had to find another way to make it up to you. 

But how?  

He considered for a moment whether you might remember something about it. He hadn’t considered asking you until now. You hadn’t said anything to him since finding him in the church. He didn’t even know if you could talk. But anything was worth a shot right now. He’d take any idea or scrap of information he could get.

So he asked you, squeezing your hand like he usually did when he wanted your attention.

“Darling?” 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t acknowledge that he’d said anything. You didn’t squeeze his hand back like you usually did. You just kept walking. The villagers, in their homes, kept staring through their peep-hole curtains, following the two of you with haunted, fearful eyes.

“Love, can you tell me what happened to you? Do you remember anything?” The Master pleaded.

Nothing once again. Just the sound of the ocean and your dress dragging along the pathway. The Master was beginning to wonder how much of you was left, or if there was anything left of you at all.

He could feel the tiniest sting of rage bloom in his chest. It urged him to fight – to kick, scream, and claw at you until he figured out what was wrong. He wanted to rip the mermaid from your mind and salvage what was left of you.  

But he never would. He could destroy civilizations, he’d burn this village to save you, but in the face of potentially hurting you, he deflated. Any thought of rage fizzled out and he was left with a heavy weighted sorrow lodged in his chest.

“Please darling.” As quiet as his voice was, there was no mistaking that the Master was pleading with you.  

At some point, a few steps beyond the white cast-iron gate, the Master stopped asking questions. He’d wait to see where you were leading him. He couldn’t take your silence. The weight of your hand, still holding his, was heavy enough.  

The tide was high, lapping hungrily at the sandy beach and the bitterly familiar cliff face on the shore. The rain had started to lighten up, but it still drizzled down onto the shore, still healing at your feet like a loyal dog. From where he was, just beyond the gate, stepping into the sand, the Master heard something from far off the shore. It drifted up into the air, harmonies building and mounting on one another as they glide across the breeze, right to the Master’s ears. The melody tempted him toward the water, bright, alluring,  hypnotic. 

And you were walking straight toward it, as if there was nothing in the world that could stop you.

The wind picked up, whipping your frilled fins and hair in every direction. The howling breeze grew stronger and stronger as the Mermaids’ song grew louder and louder. More harmonies, and a mounting dissonance clawing through the tone, and in a moment, the Master found the answer to all the questions he’d been asking.   

“They bit you.” He stopped dead in his tracks and didn’t move when you continued to pull on him. His voice was quiet. Beneath it though, at the sight of the puncture wounds and the red trail of blood down the back of your dress, was the same heating anger from before, urging him to loose his rage upon the alien inside of you. 

The Master quelled his bristling anger. This wasn’t the time. He had to focus on the problem at hand: you. You didn’t stop. You kept trying to pull him to the sea, uninterested in his observation or in stopping. 

You stared at the ocean with glazed eyes, listening to the mermaids’ harmonies. You couldn’t tear your eyes away if you wanted to, as if there was something magnetic in the alluring tones. You started walking again, and this time, the Master followed until you’d nearly reached the lapping tide.

“That’s not the direction of the TARDIS, love.” The Master whispered, pulling on your wrist to keep you from stepping into the sea.

Something about that clicks and you turn to him, slowly and hesitantly. The Master sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. 

Nearly your entire face is blank and emotionless. Nearly. It's your eyes that are different. Your strange, alien eyes are brimming with tears. They’re wide and scared and lined with the trails of tears already shed. The Master could see you in those eyes. They weren’t the right color. They weren’t human. But within them, beyond their seafoam color and unnatural glow, he saw  you. He saw fear, he saw fight, he saw the eyes of his companion, doing her best to fight for her life, even as she was trapped in her own mind.

You’re still alive.

The Master slowly approaches, testing the waters. He holds your face in one of his hands, the other coming to rest along your neck. When you don’t react, save for looking into his eyes with something deep and pleading, he lowers his head and touches his forehead to yours, releasing a  deep, shuddering breath before letting his hands slide from your cheeks to your temples.

In your head, he hears you crying out for help – your pleading voice screaming out for him to hear you.

“--Please! Please Master! I can't stop it! It's gonna drag me into the ocean! It’s going to turn me into a mermaid! I don’t want to become one of them! I wanna go back home to the TARDIS! I wanna go back home with you!!! Please Master! Save me!”  

The Master pulls away from you in shock - his hearts plummeting to the gritty sand.  Had you been screaming in your head like this the whole time? Guilt shot through his hearts and if it weren’t for his desperate need to protect you, he might’ve died on the spot. He presses his forehead to yours once more, fingers to your temples, and in a matter of seconds your sleeping body drops into his arms. The Master clutches your limp body close to his to keep you from falling to the sand as endless waves of relief and guilt and heartbreak flush through him. He kisses your forehead and as soon as he stands with you, he’s off like a shot, sprinting to his TARDIS as fast as his legs will carry him. Never mind the Mermaids’ melody turning to ravenous screeching. Never mind the village’s hunting party gathering together to avenge their dead. Never mind the painful whip of tree branches as he ran to the bordering forest. The Master had to save you, and nothing in all the universe could stop him. 

The first thing you notice is the weight of something cool in your hand. Cool and smooth. When your eyes crack open, the world is blurry and you can’t quite tell where you are. The room you’re in is warm. The ceiling is white.

And next to you is the Master, resting his head on your lap, his cool hand in yours. His usual purple jacket is thrown over his shoulders, barely hanging onto his back with how he’s lying now. He’s snoring softly, and he’s thrown an arm over your legs as if he’s protecting you. It’s odd to see him sleep. In all your time traveling with him, you’ve only ever known him to sleep when he absolutely had to, and never while you were traveling with him. Getting to see him look so peaceful is a treat - one you intend to savor.

You want to kiss him.

The thought comes out of nowhere, but you don’t deny it. It's been a tempting image for months now - the first thing on your mind for weeks. You’re not surprised that it pops into your head.

You shift, wincing at the soreness that weighs down your whole body. You notice that you’re no longer wearing your ruined linen dress. Instead, you are wearing your pajamas, and your personal pillow is supporting your head. Your head hurts a little and you hope that readjusting will help ease the pain. 

It doesn’t. All it does is shift the Master and jostle him awake. He startles a little and sits up, but the moment he lays eyes on you he relaxes and smiles, “Ah. There are those beautiful eyes. Back to normal, as they should be. How are you feeling?”

You struggle a little to sit up, pulling the blanket up with you as a comfort. You don’t fail to notice that although you’re in the med bay, you aren’t lying under the scratchy blankets that usually covered the beds here. Instead, the Master had brought your favorite blanket and draped it over you. Your favorite book was lying on the table beside your bed too, next to a book about the planet you had visited. You smile when you notice the Master’s sweet gesture. 

The moment sours a little though, when you try to think of why you were lying in the med bay. You shift a little, turning to look at the Master for answers. 

“I’m feeling alright, but what happened? I remember standing on the beach screaming in my head, and the next thing I know, I’m here, in the TARDIS med bay. What happened to me? What happened to the Mermaid?”   

The Master tenses, not sure how to explain in any casual way that he’d rushed you back to the TARDIS at inhuman speeds because he was afraid he was going to lose the only person in the universe he actually loved anymore. That was too much to explain right now, so he decided to stick with the facts. Taking his hand from yours, he started to wring his hands together, trying to figure out where to start.

“Well, after you saved me from the church, you uh—you blacked out on the beach and I brought you back to the TARDIS. The Mermaid was a more complicated affair. I had to reach inside your mind to get rid of it. It was a nasty fight, but it was well worth it. You’re you again, and you’re safe now.”

You nod once again, doing your best to connect what you remember to what the Master was telling you. 

“How long did it take?” 

“Hmm?”  

“Getting rid of the Mermaid? How long did it take? It feels like I slept for years.”  

The Master hesitates again. There was more weight behind that question than you could ever imagine. Of course, he would never mention how hard of a fight it had really been. He’d never tell you how he had gone blind with rage, burning the mermaid until its crisp ashes faded away from your neurons. He’d never tell you how delicate he’d had to be, or how fragile your mind was afterward. And he would certainly never tell you how scared he really was when he saw the extent of the mermaid’s attachment. He didn’t care how long it had taken, not noticing or caring about the hours he’d spent burning the Mermaid from your mind. He was determined to keep going until the Mermaid was gone, his own exhaustion be damned.

He also couldn’t begin to explain the fervency with which he’d tried to remind you of yourself. He brought in your blanket and pillow and read your favorite book to you – the whole thing, even the annotations and drawings you’d left in the margins. He spent hours telling you stories of your travels - the ones that hadn’t gone terribly wrong of course. He had done everything in his power to make sure you survived. He’d even sat beside your bed and outright begged you to remember who you were when you woke up. But he’d never be able to tell you that.

And yet, when you reach out and run your thumb under his eyes, no doubt soothing the heavy bags that were bound to be there, he had a feeling that somehow you knew. He didn’t have to say anything, and he could admit that right now he didn’t really want to. He just wanted to sit in this moment and bask in the warmth radiating from your hand and the comfort it brought to have you touch him.

After a moment though, the Master startles away from your touch. He had leaned too far into it, starting to lose himself in the feel of your hand on his face, and he very well might have kissed you if he hadn’t stopped himself. He stood quickly and stepped away to pace around the med bay. 

You were startled by his reaction, but nevertheless brought your hand back to your side and changed the subject. “Thank you for bringing my book and blanket. They make it more bearable in here. Do I need to stay in the med bay or am I good to leave?”

“No, you’re clear to leave, but you’re welcome to stay here until you feel comfortable getting up. The Mermaid was a force inside your head. And quite a powerful one at that. You might be dizzy for a little while, but that’s all. Any physical effects - your scales, fins, etc – dissolved while I was taking the Mermaid apart. It didn’t leave anything physical except for the bite wound, but I was able to heal that up. Your book and your blanket were meant to help kick you back into gear - remind you who you are and all that.”

A small smile crosses your face and your eyes light up a bit. “Does that mean you read to me while I was passed out?” 

The Master gave you a look. “Shut up.”  

Your smile shifts - far more mischievous now than before. “Never.”  

There you are. Back to teasing him and being a general pain in his ass. An endearing pain in his ass, but a pain in his ass nonetheless. 

The Master leaned against the counter opposite you, feeling a little bit better after seeing you return, for the most part, to your normal self.

“I will admit, seeing you let go, letting the rage inside you loose, getting to see you rip your enemies apart - that was something beautiful. Something awe-inspiring, really. I’ve seen stars collapse with less fury than was in your eyes. Truly inspiring.” The Master lied, hoping you wouldn’t notice, hoping he sounded like his normal self and not like he’d been horrified, worried beyond belief, and physically exhausted for hours on end. If you were back to normal, teasing and laughing at him, then he could play normal too. 

But of course that backfired, and it seemed you believed his lie a little too well. Your face fell, and then your brow quirked up.

“Then why did you change me back?”

His reply is instant.

“Because you asked me to. I would do anything you asked me to do.” 

The Master pauses - it only takes a second to realize what he had said. Your wide eyes suggest you are doing the same. He hadn’t thought before he spoke and the words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. For a moment, the Master had let his hearts do the talking for him.

He takes a deep breath.

“I would have changed you back regardless. That thing - the Mermaid that was possessing you - wasn’t you. I’d rather travel with you and all your boring human morals than watch some alien walk off to destroy worlds with your body. I never would have let that thing take you. Really I should go back and kill the lot of them. Every last one of those things should die a slow, painful, death, drying out in the dead grass above them for what they did to you.” He was offended that you’d so much as considered him leaving you to the Mermaid’s whims.

You just look at him for a moment before uttering a quiet “Thank you.”   

The Master nods, a sincere look glinting in his eye before he lets the matter rest. There is silence for a moment. A heavy silence. You play with a loose thread on the blanket’s stitching, and the Master watches you. Despite answering your questions, the Master felt like there was still something left unsaid. The room is still tense and you seem lost in thought. 

There’s something you have been avoiding, he could tell. Something is lingering in your mind and he figures he knows what it is. The Master steps towards you, stopping beside your bed. You still don’t look up at him. He sits in his chair and takes your hands in his.

“Darling, how much do you remember?” The Master asks, taking a tentative step to understanding your experience in all this. 

You hesitate before answering and find yourself unable to meet the Master’s eyes.

“All of it.” You pause, swallowing nervously. “I killed people.”

The Master hears the guilt heavy in your voice and completely abandons his chair, shifting to sit next to you on your bed, squeezing your hands tighter than before.

“No, No. Remember Love, that wasn’t you. The Mermaid was using you. Feeding on any little emotion that would give it an excuse to kill. It took your wants, your anger, and twisted it for its own. It was hungry and it used your body to hunt.” 

You’re quiet, stewing in guilt for another short moment. You gnaw on the inside of your lip and  stare at the Master’s hand holding yours. 

“I remember wanting them gone - the villagers and the guards.” Your voice cuts through the silence, something heavy weighing in your tone.

The Master’s eyes bore into you, “Why?” 

You finally look up and let your eyes meet his.

“They were blocking the path to you.”  

A beat passed. Time slowed, or maybe it stopped altogether. The Master’s eyes lock with yours and you’re not sure what you see swirling in them.

And then before you know it, he’s kissing you. Full body, hands cradling your face, pressing as much of himself against you as he can kissing you. His lips almost bruise yours, you can’t kiss back for a few seconds he comes on so hard —

— but he pulls away for a second, breathes heavily, and stares at you. There’s a millisecond between you – only the sound of your heaving breaths in the air. You look at him and give a small nod and he dives for you, leaning over the bed, ramming your back into the sheets, all but climbing on top of you. You kiss him with the same fervor as he had before, hands slipping to his back to pull him even closer until you can feel his body against every part of yours. His hands pull at your waist and rake up your sides and he shivers when you moan against his lips. His whole body can feel it rumbling, his mind can feel it, it’s stronger than the drums and he’s addicted. He needs to feel it again. 

His kisses slip from your lips down your cheek to the column of your neck. They’re sloppy and desperate, penning his ages of yearning along your skin. The hitches in your breath are like prayers to an old god and he’s reveling in the worship. Your hands in his hair fire pleasure down his spine and it curls hot in his stomach. He grows more and more desperate, more and more ravenous as he kisses you faster and faster, making his way back to your lips like a man starved. He cradles your head in his hands and pulls away with a low growl.

“Darling.“ He pants hard, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He feels you catch your breath, the thump of your one heartbeat echoing in his ear again. Your breathing becomes smooth, steady, and it soothes something within the Master.

You start to leave little kisses in his hair and a couple on the shell of his ear and he feels like melting right into your lap. You’re so soft with him in this moment. He nuzzles into your neck and wraps his hands around your waist. The Master stays there for a minute, content to let you press soft kisses to his hair and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. 

Eventually, though, he has an idea. You know he does because his head whips up fast and he looks you dead in the eye. There’s something soft in his eyes though, and his gaze warms as it settles on you. He brings his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and gently nuzzling his nose against yours, “Let me in?”  

It’s a question, not a demand, whispered to the vulnerable space between you.  

“I know you’ve been through a lot lately. The Mermaid was in your head, and then I dug around in your mind for hours. It's okay if you don’t want to let me in.” His voice is the gentlest whisper, and he leaves the gentlest kiss on the corner of your mouth. 

You don’t answer with words, but he can feel you opening your mind. He’s flooded with a wall of hot, heady lust at first, but it ebbs into something gentle and soft and so, so warm. He felt safe - your safety, and your confidence in him to keep you safe. He feels the way your heart tugs you toward him at every moment, and there’s a heavy, weighty, yearning want that curls around him and settles in his hearts. The wave of it crashes over him and he has to pull away for a second, the force of it overwhelming his senses. He leans his head on your shoulder once more, biting the skin there to keep from whimpering. Even then, he still lets a quiet whine slip through his teeth as he shudders against you. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, leaning down to look him in the eye. You can’t remember another time you’ve seen the Master like this. He looks at you, transfixed in your eyes for a moment before responding.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s…it’s just…,” He pauses, looking off to the side like something long past is lingering in the corner of his eye. After a moment, he meets your eyes again and his voice shudders a small bit, “I-I can’t remember the last time someone  wanted me like this.”  

You give him the kind of look that would normally annoy him. There’s something pitiful and sympathetic in your bright eyes, and he can feel your oncoming heartache. Heartache for him. For the years he spent alone. For every moment he spent trying to show someone he was worth the effort. That look was one he would generally turn away from, but in this moment with you, he didn’t say anything. He just fell further into your arms and pressed his forehead to yours again, yearning to feel your mind wash over him again.

“Oh, Master.” You whisper in the crack of space between you before cradling his face and bringing your lips to his again.  

Your kiss is warm and comforting, encompassing the Master in a feeling that’s entirely you. He felt your warmth and the absence of it between kisses, and realized he never wanted to be without it. It drew him in, roped and tied his soul to yours, and he never wanted to be free of it. He clung to you. His kisses grew frenzied, frantic as his hands grappled at every curve of your body, trying to pull you closer, closer, closer to him. You couldn’t be close enough, he could never pull you close enough.    

Your mind tingled on the edge of his, sending shivers through him. For a second he’d forgotten you had let him in, and now you were pushing yourself against him in the most intimate of ways.

He could hardly describe the soft way your mind flooded into his own, caressing every corner, passing every locked door, loving every winding turn– 

Loving?

You loved him?

He could feel it in your mind – that strong, gentle pull. He could feel it when you embraced the parts of his mind he bared to you, and when you passed by the things he hid without a word. He could feel it in the way your hands held him, the way they drifted over his body and touched him with reverence. He could feel it in the little moans you made when he kissed you, like a dam of yearning, of pining, being released between the two of you. It sent jolts of electricity down his body and straight between his legs.

It was all too much for him.

“I love you.” The Master all but sobs into your ear, “I love you. I love you. I love you. By the stars, Darling, I love you.”  

“I love you too, Master – love you so much.” You whimper into his neck, biting down on the skin there to ground yourself. 

The Master groans, climbing on top of you, pinning your body further to the bed. He kicks his shoes to the floor and pushes your blanket aside so that no part of you is hidden from him. He presses his body against you and you can’t help but moan when you feel his hard cock pressing against your hips, lightly grinding, begging for some sort of friction between you.

“Darling, you have no idea what that does to me.” The Master’s voice is ragged, his breathing heavy as he drags his cock against your hips rougher than he had before, “You can’t just bite a man like that.”

“What if I want to find out what it does to you?” 

The Master pauses all movement for a moment and meets your heavy, half-lidded eyes. He feels his whole body warm at your implication, the temptation in your eyes pulling him closer and closer to you.

“You're sure you want that love?” He whispers against your lips.

You nod enthusiastically, wrapping your arms around the Master’s neck to pull him closer to you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Master.”

He shudders at the way you say his name, then nods, pulling himself off of you before helping you sit up.

“C’mere,” The Master picks you up off the medbay bed and wraps your legs around his waist, “Let’s take this somewhere more appropriate.” 

The Master had every intent of taking you straight to his bed and ravishing you on the deep purple sheets, but as he passed through the console room, he saw the briefest image flicker up from your mind. It was a positively wicked idea, and he loved it. He felt the wave of lust that bloomed through you as the image appeared and, with a grin, he changed directions.

“Master? Aren’t we going to your room? What are you doing?” You ask, pulling away from his lips as he sets you on the center console.

“What you want.”  

He leans close, kissing you again before pressing his hips to yours. His hands wander as they please and it’s only after a few moments that you feel the Master softly grinding against you. You pull away from his lips with a small gasp. 

“H-How did you–”   

“I can see it in your head dear. I could feel how much you wanted it.” The Master smiled, shifting you so you’re comfy on the console. “Why not treat you? Who am I to deny you?”

And there he was. The Master. Your cocky, confident, tease of a traveling companion. He smirked at you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. His breath fans across your skin, and he’s delighted by the little shiver that shudders through you. 

“Do you like that love? Hm? Feeling me? Feeling what you do to me – what you’ve done to me for months aboard this ship?” He kisses you again, groaning against your lips with every new kiss. He grinds his hips against yours and you revel in the feeling of his cock, heavy between your legs. “Do you have any idea how many fucking times I had to fuck my hand and pretend it was you? You lean over the console and I can’t think! You hug me and there’s this stupid warmth that blooms from my gut to my hearts and I just want to kiss your face—Fuck, I can feel how much you want me…Is this why you haven’t let me in before? Afraid I’d see all these secrets you’ve been keeping from me?” 

The Master’s questions didn’t even process. You were too lost in the feeling of his body against you, the way he grinds himself against your cunt, the way he makes you melt into the console, letting yourself feel the waves of arousal from both your minds wash over you - tingling every one of your nerves until all you felt was sweet, sweet pleasure coursing over every part of you. 

Until that pleasure stops, and you feel the Master’s cool breath against your ear.

“I need an answer dear.” 

Your eyes widen and you pull back to look at him, surprise written clear on your face. He’s got a stupid, smug look on his face and you hate how much it turns you on. 

You keep staring for a second. You can’t make yourself speak, so caught off guard by the loss of sensation and the frustration that follows that words are impossible. So instead, you claw at the Master’s shoulder and tug him back against you, locking him in place with your legs around his hips. He lets out a surprised sound, catching himself on the console.  

You all but growl, fisting a handful of the Master’s hair to pull him up to look at you. You delight in the moan that tumbles from his lips and pull him close to you so you can growl in his ear.

“I want you. Now.” You demand. You tighten your legs around him and start to grind yourself against him on your own, his plans be damned. 

The Master breathes hard - a laugh breaking through as he catches his breath. Tipping your chin up with a finger, he looks at you with such hunger, “Oh Love, I didn’t think I could be any more attracted to you, but look at what you’ve done to me…how can one person be so, damn, enticing?”

Each word came with short, heavy thrusts against your sex. The Master was starting to breathe heavier and heavier, and with every drag against your clothes, he felt himself melting further against you. He felt heavy with the way he yearned for you; the warmth between your legs lured him closer and closer to you until nearly all of his body was pressed against yours. Every movement, every thrust, every touch of your skin against his sent sweet pleasure tumbling through his body, begging for more, more, more. And he lost himself in you. Nothing mattered in this moment besides the bliss that bloomed through him every time he dragged himself against you. His body sang for you, and you sang back in sweet, dulcet whimpers against his neck, your fingers digging into his sides, pulling him ever-closer until he was barely standing anymore.  

It’s not long before his weight is leaned on you almost entirely. His eyes close, his head falls to your shoulder, and the Master moans- a deep, yearning thing – before whimpering into your ear, “You’re so warm, Love. So so warm.” 

You can’t even think about replying. The cool touch of his lips against your neck, and the warm, fuzzy pleasure between your legs leaves you feeling brainless. And with every wave of arousal through your mind, the Master lets out moans and whines that grow more and more pitiful as he continues to grind against you. His noises are irresistible. Your body is all but limp against the console and the only thing that grounds you to the world is the feeling of the Master’s hair in your hands. 

Your mind is intoxicating. The Master can’t tell where he ends and you begin anymore. Everything is so blurred and connected and warm and soft. You are soft, and he wants to stay here forever, melting into your body, feeling your kisses against his neck, until the only feeling he knows anymore is you. 

It’s not enough though. He can feel you yearning for more even if you aren’t saying it. He feels the sharp want for more on the edges of your mind and the Master growls. It isn’t enough.

You gasp when the pleasure stops again, whining as you feel the Master’s hair slip from your grasp. You’re going to protest until you hear a thump on the floor and a blinding, beautiful, tingling sensation races from your clit to the tips of your limbs.

The Master drops to his knees, knocking himself against your own knees as he scrambles to shove himself between your legs. He nuzzles his nose against your cunt, and drags his tongue flat against the fabric of your sleep shorts, digging his nails into the skin of your thighs. The feeling of his wet tongue through the fabric is like heaven. Finally getting direct attention to your clit after all this build-up is like breaking a dam inside of you and you’re greedy, keening, back arching off the console to press your weeping cunt harder against his face. 

The Master groans, clawing at your sleep shorts as he continues laving his tongue over them. He’s starving for you and anything he can get he’ll take with greedy abandon. He’s waited so long; he  needs to worship you, needs to taste you, needs to please you, and his impatience is getting the better of him. 

He leaves your pussy for only a moment to rip your shorts from your body, dragging your underwear away with them and throwing them somewhere behind him. 

His first thought was to dive right back into your waiting, weeping pussy, but he had just enough clarity left to wait and play with you.  

He instead takes hold of your calf, gingerly lifting your leg so he could place a kiss on your knee. Then another. Then he licked a stripe up the side of your thigh, delighting in the surprised gasp that flew from your lips.  

He did it again and again, dragging his tongue up and down your thigh until the skin was wet and you were squirming above him.

Your hand in his hair pulls him from his worship, distracting him with your half-lidded, pleading eyes.

“Please Master.” You whine, tightening your grip on his hair. 

“Please what, dear?” He responds with a renewed air of mischief in his voice.

You couldn’t answer, unable to find words for what you want. You whine at him, hoping he would get the idea. Instead, he gives you a devilish smile and a downright cruel look in his eye.

“I’m not sure what that means darling.” 

Before you can reply the Master leans down to your other knee, giving it the same attention he had given your first thigh, dragging his face up and up, leaving kisses and licking stripes until the skin was slick and wet. 

You whine again, keening, in hopes that the Master will have mercy on you and give you what you want. You know he knows and it’s frustrating you to no end that he won’t just give in and give it to you. 

Instead, the Master laughs and bites down on the meat of your thigh, leaving an imprint of his teeth in the soft flesh. Your sharp yelp sends a shockwave of pleasure through his body right down to his aching cock.

“I need you to use words, love. I don’t know what you want unless you use your words.” He rasped against the skin of your thigh.

You groaned, “Touch me.” 

“What? Like this?” The Master brought his hand up to your sopping pussy and ran his fingers through your folds, dragging them ever so slowly from your hole to your clit. 

You shook your head, meeting his eyes with something desperate and feral. 

The Master, however, remains infuriatingly calm, toying with you with such ease it makes you want to slap that cruel smile right off his face. 

“What is it you want dear?” 

You huffed, frustration fuming from your lips.

“Your mouth. Use your mouth.” You beg, finally voicing your desire to the Master. 

He grins, dragging his hand away from your pussy, turning to soothe his bite mark with his tongue. 

“See, wasn’t that easy love?” 

The Master places a delicate kiss on your clit before ravaging your pussy, licking and lapping like he had been when your shorts were still on.  

You gasp, heaving in a breath as the Master drags his wet tongue through your folds. You’re so sensitive after all his teasing that you tremble at even the lightest touch. The feeling of his cool tongue between your thighs is overwhelming, drawing coils in your guts and dragging you closer and closer to the edge.  

The cherry on top of it all comes when you look down through hazy half-lidded eyes. The Master’s eyes are closed, his hands grasping the meat of your thighs like they’re a lifeline. He’s razor-focused on memorizing the taste of you. You can feel his focus in your mind, and the slow way it melts into nothing but sweet pleasure. The feeling bleeds between your minds and for a moment it feels like a hazy high - your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your head falling back against the console as the Master fucks you with his tongue. Moans tumble from your mouth as he builds a steady rhythm, and you can feel the Master preening from your praising noises. 

But then you hear the Master whine into your pussy and a new, stronger wave of pleasure overtakes you. It washes through you over and over again; pleasure mounting on pleasure until the feeling is nearly unbearable.  

You crack your eyes open to take a peek and what you see sends a hot flood of arousal through you.

The Master had slipped one of his hands between his legs and was now furiously grinding his weeping cock against the heel of his palm. He all but melts into his own hand, his moans rumbling through you, his tongue pushing further into you than ever before. Through the connection you could feel his own pleasure growing - the same coiling heat in his body that you felt in yours.

“Master.” You call out breathlessly.

The Master kept lapping at you. Your arousal flickers through the connection, flooding his mind in a tidal wave and he can’t stop himself. He needs more.

“Master, dear.”  You call again.

The Master’s moans slip into whines, his hips roll hard into his hand. His whole body is tensing, wrapped and tied in the bliss he feels from the both of you. It builds and builds until he’s right there on the edge, his body begging for sweet release. Just a few more strokes and—

“Master.”

Your voice cuts through his haze and it takes every ounce of self-control the Master has ever had to stop.

“Yes love?” His answer is a ragged moan, betraying his displeasure as he pulls away from your pussy. His face is sopping wet and his eyes are heavy-lidded.

You smile at the sight of him and his fucked-out eyes.

“Are you gonna make it to the bed dear?” You whisper in his ear, a husky, sultry rasp edging the low tones of your voice. 

The Master breathes heavily and considers your question for a moment.

“Fuck.”  

He stands and yanks you up off the console, onto his hips and rushes down the hall, carrying you through the twisting, winding halls to his bedroom.

The Master’s room was elusive. In all your time on the TARDIS, you’d found a library, a swimming pool, a billiards hall, an observatory, and countless other unique rooms, but you’d never stumbled upon the Master’s room. Naturally, you were curious, and to tell the truth, you’d gone looking for the room a few times before, but by now you figured that the room was hidden in some deep, far-away corner of the TARDIS, never to be found by simple exploration.

Which is why it came as such a surprise to you how fast the Master found his room and threw open the door. Not even a minute after hoisting you onto his hips, the Master dashes into his room, closes the door, and slams you against it. You barely get a second to see the room over his shoulder before his lips are on yours, kissing you with new fervor.  

“You’ve got me weak in the knees darling. I can barely stand.” The Master mumbles against your throat as he plots fevered kisses down your neck.  

“Maybe we should move to the bed then, dear. Get you off your feet.” You gasp out through a moan. 

“Mmmmm I like that idea.” 

Without giving you time to think, the Master pulls you off the door and throws you onto his bed. Literally throws you. The little ‘oof’ you let out as you land makes him laugh a little. 

But in the space of a second, in the movement, you were no longer in the warm, safe confines of the Master’s oversized bed. Instead, you were landing in the ocean. Your back stings. Pain shoots through you to every nerve end and in an instant, you’re shivering. Freezing. You don’t dare move until you see movement in the corner of your eye. It takes a moment for your vision to focus, but once it does you see the Master hovering over you, calling your name. His hands hold your face, delicate and centering. The purple drapes above his bed remind you of where you are, and you’re finally able to take a deep breath.

You shake your head and come back to reality, putting on a smile to brush off the whole episode. “Sorry, I just…landing on my back–it reminded me of landing in the ocean and the Mermaid, and I just…” 

The Master can feel the fear rushing through you as your sentence fades off. It’s bolting behind your eyes even if you say you’re okay. Without a second thought, the Master pulls you to his chest and cradles you in his arms. His breathing is a bit heavier, and his arms are tight around you. When he speaks, it’s a whisper in the shell of your ear - something fervent and sincere.

“Never again. Never again, love. I promise I’ll keep you safe. You’ll never have to feel that scared again.”

You nod into his shoulder, letting yourself curl into him for a moment. The comfort of his arms does wonders to ground you and bring you fully back into the present. As he holds you, he nuzzles his nose against your neck and softly kneads your body’s curves. He breathes against your skin for a moment, enjoying the feel of you in his arms. 

After a moment, he pulls back to look at you.

“We can stop for tonight if you want. We can rest. I’ll watch over you while you sleep.” 

“No. I want this. I want you.” You insist, fiddling with a corner of his shirt collar. “I just needed a second. Please keep kissing me.” 

He nods with a warm smile. “As you wish, love.”

As the Master kisses you, your hands wander from the back of his neck down to the buttons of his clean shirt. You fiddle with a button and eventually get it undone, letting your fingers slip just under his shirt to feel his cool skin. You’re rewarded with a stunted breath and the Master’s hands gripping your body tighter against him. 

You slowly work at the buttons until his shirt is completely undone, hanging off his shoulders, framing his chest in a way that tempts your hands to roam across the new expanse of skin. But as your hands wander, you pause, pulling away from the Master with furrowed brows.

“You had a cut on your chest. I remember, in the church; I could feel the blood on your shirt. I saw the cut.” 

The Master takes your hand in his and presses it to his chest right over the place he had been cut.

“It’s okay love. I used the same medicine to heal this wound that I used to heal your bite. Fixed me right up. I’m okay. I promise.”  

You nod, taking a minute to admire the Master’s chest while you have the chance. And damn, the medicine worked. There wasn’t any trace of the cut. No scars, no lumps, no faint line to trace. Just his smooth skin, glowing under the room’s warm lamplight. Instead, you trace the lines of his muscles, from his pecs up to his collarbones, over to his shoulders to push his shirt off his back. 

“Like what you see there, love?” The Master coos, shrugging his shirt the rest of the way off. 

“Mmhm.” You hum, leaning forward to kiss along the Master’s collarbone, “I’m excited to see the rest.” 

The Master doesn’t get the chance to respond. Try as he might, the light laugh in his throat dies when he feels your fingers slip beneath the waistline of his pants. 

“Can I see the rest?” You ask in the small space between you.

The Master swallows hard. For once he’s at a loss for words. He’s too preoccupied by the tingling sensation left in your fingers’ wake to speak. He nods and suppresses a shudder.  

His eyes close as you continue to kiss his collarbones. He basks in the feeling of your soft lips peppering kisses from his shoulder up to his neck, and he startles a little when he feels your warm, wet tongue lick a stripe up his neck. You seem to pay no mind, contentedly kissing him and licking him.  

He tracks the movement of your hand, lazy though it is, as you slip further into his pants. Curiosity teeters in your mind as you wonder just how far you can go and, as you place a kiss just under the curve of the Master’s jaw, your hand slips below his pants to cup his cock through his boxers. The Master lights up with pleasure, and the noise he lets out as you grind the heel of your palm against his cock is decadent. You look up at him for a moment, admiring the way his face scrunches up as if he’s overwhelmed by the feeling. You watch him for a moment, appreciating how beautiful he looks before a sinister idea pops into your head. 

The Master feels you shift, turning yourself and him so you can lay him down against the countless pillows at the head of his bed with nothing but a gentle push to his chest. You pull your hand from his bulge and begin to wrestle with his boxers’ elastic waistband. His body jolts when a rush of cool air meets his skin, and his body tingles as you pull his cock from his boxers. It springs free and all that aching pressure from before releases like a deep breath. The cool air in his room is a nice wake up call, but what really gets him going is the look in your eye as your gaze settles on him.

“Darling, what are you—“

“—You’re so pretty…” you trail off in hypnotic admiration, dipping your head to kiss the soft tip of his cock, giving him a little suckle. 

The Master keens. He outright whines and fists his sheets in his hands as you continue to kiss and suck at his tip. Feeling adventurous, you take his head into your mouth, dragging your tongue slowly over his slit. 

And this is the day you learn that the Master, at least this version, can’t keep quiet when your mouth is on him. The moment your tongue traces his slit he moans, and he moans loud. He’s a mess of whines and whimpers and delectable throaty noises. You’ve completely disassembled him and left only the malleable, vulnerable parts of him on this bed. All with a couple licks of your tongue. 

But there’s something at the edge of the Master’s mind that keeps him from falling into the dreamlike haze he’s so close to. Something that’s been on the edge of his mind since he threw you on the bed. Something that’s eating away at him from the inside out. 

You almost died.  

There’s a slight tremor in your arms as you’re holding yourself above him. You’re exerting more effort to do so than you should, and in that instant, any trace of a haze snaps away and the Master resolves to himself that he’s going to take care of you tonight. After everything you’ve been through, it’s the least you deserve.

The Master reaches a hand down to your shoulder, gently squeezing to grab your attention. You pull off his cock with a questioning look. 

“Darling, as much as I love feeling your lips around me, you need rest, and I can’t wait to fuck you. Save that for another night. Come up here and kiss me.”

You have half a mind to protest and insist that you’re fine, but your muscles are aching and you know your body is tired even if your mind is racing, so you place one final kiss on the Master’s cock before crawling up his body. 

When you’re level with the Master you nuzzle your nose against his.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hi.” He smiles back.

You let out a chuckle and dip your head down to kiss him. Your free hand tangles itself in his hair and his hands roam your back and sides. He takes a mental note of the spot you flinched at - seems he’s found a ticklish spot. Could be useful in the future. 

You, on the other hand, are fighting the urge to jolt away from the Master’s ticklish touch while trying to admire the man - the alien - beneath you. You still can’t believe that you’re here, in bed with an impossible man who just so happened to tolerate you out of everyone on earth. After so many months of yearning, you’re here. Spiced honey and the smell of cloves drift up to your nose and you feel the Master breathing beneath you. It’s almost too much for you to take, so you lean forward and slam your lips to his.  

He makes a surprised noise but quickly falls into the kiss, letting your flood of emotion rush through your connection. He moans as the feeling wades through his mind and sends aching want through every muscle in his body. 

The feeling deepens when you drag your tongue along his bottom lip and nip a little at the wet skin. He keens and opens his mouth, reaching out to meet yours. You gasp the moment your tongues meet and for what feels like ages, it’s a dance of your tongues licking into each other's mouths - kissing and sucking and little bites on one another’s lips, all the while your calming weight rests on the Master’s hips and his hands rest on your sides and the both of you are lost in the feel of one another as it flows through your mental connection. 

You’re the one to break off first. You take deep, heaving breaths and you close your eyes for a moment, just trying to focus on getting air back in your lungs. When you open your eyes, you see the Master watching you. He looks at you like you’re the last star left burning in the universe. 

And for another moment you sit like that. You catch your breath and the Master plays with the hem of your sleepshirt.

“Love?” 

“Hmm?” You recognize the gleam of an idea in his eye.

“Let's get this shirt off of you.”

You nod with a smile, holding your arms up so the Master could drag your shirt over your head and off your arms. He throws it to the side and helps you out of your bra, adding that to the pile of clothes at the end of the bed. 

When you’re finally undressed, the Master lets his hand rest on your hip and rubs his thumb in soothing circles. He takes in your naked body and admires the sight before him. He drinks in the sight of your skin in the warm light and the way the gold reflects in the color of your eyes.

“You’re beautiful love.”

You feel your cheeks warm and there’s something about the way the Master looks at you that floods molten heat between your legs. 

You lean back down to kiss him - feel his cock twitch against your ass when your lips meet and you let that molten heat between your legs do the thinking for you. 

You start to grind your hips against him, slowly inching back until you’re grinding against his cock.  

You start to get lost in the feeling, letting go of your inhibitions to focus solely on your pleasure and the Master’s, but just as you’re starting to fall into a haze, the Master’s voice reels you back to reality.

“Darling?” 

“Hmm?”

“Guess what?”

“What?” You’re genuinely confused - completely clueless at the edge of your haze.

But soon you’re letting out a surprised yelp as the Master rolls, flipping you under him with a joyful laugh. The sound of your laugh rings through the room soon after, and the Master swears he’s never heard anything so beautiful. 

“I guess I should have seen that coming.” You say, adjusting to be a little more comfortable under the Master. 

“Probably, but you’ve had a long day, so I’ll let it slide.” 

You both chuckle a little and the Master leans back down to kiss you. He’s sweet and soft and there’s no place in the universe more comfortable than this.

As the Master kisses you, he sneaks a hand down his body and starts to work his pants down his legs, taking his boxers with them as he goes. 

“Won’t be needing these now will I?” 

“Certainly not.” You reply with a light laugh.

His pants and underwear end up in the pile at the end of the bed, and when he climbs back up to you, he’s caught off guard by the look you’re giving him. It’s warm and happy. You’re admiring him.

The Master hovers over you and watches as your eyes and hand trail over his chest and abdomen, “You look so pretty,” you whisper up to him, “Where have you been hiding all this, hmm?”

There’s a sharp inhale and the Master feels something deep within him ache. Something good. Something long neglected. And like letting go of the deepest breath, his next words flowed from him.

“Oh darling, I love you.” 

The Master presses his body against yours as he comes down for a searing kiss, nearly losing himself in the comfort of feeling his skin on yours; in the ambient heat that radiates from you. It doesn’t last long though, as the Master quickly refocuses on his goal - nay, his job - this evening: making you cum. He pulls away from you, running his nails along your scalp and delighting in the happy noise you make.

“It’s about time you got your reward huh, love?” The Master prompts.

“My reward?” .

“Mhm.” His nails continue to rake across your scalp. 

“What for?” 

“Oh you know,” he starts, feigning nonchalance. “surviving a freezing cold ocean and an alien possession, saving my life, being the most beautiful woman in the universe. Seems deserving of a reward to me, don’t you think?”

You look surprised for a moment, but eventually agree, a bashful warmth heating your cheeks as hot arousal floods your pussy again. “I’d like that.” 

“A reward it is then.” The Master smiles. 

He wastes no time shuffling down the bed until he’s between your legs. He lets his hands glide over the tops of your thighs before gently coaxing your legs further apart. He settles there and admires your pussy, running his thumb along your inner thigh, just off to the side of where you really want it. You’re not entirely certain, but you think you hear a breathy “beautiful” slip under the Master’s breath.

“Do you want me to touch you love?” The Master teases, letting the edge of his nail ghost along your folds.

He delights in your shiver and the eager, “yes” that barely makes it past your lips. He considers teasing you further, but what kind of reward would that be? You’ve worked hard enough for it as is.

“As you wish, darling.” 

The Master delves a finger between your folds, feeling the leaking pool of arousal that’s been flooding your pussy since he sat you down on the console. His cock throbs as he smears your arousal all over your cunt.

He’s a little greedy. He can’t help himself. He gathers some of your arousal on the tips of his fingers and brings them to his mouth, tasting you once again. Your taste sends a jolt right through his cock and he moans loud around his fingers.

“Mm, I’ve missed that taste.” The Master groans, “So tempting. So sweet.” 

Your own moan brings the Master back to you and your hips as they start to cant against the empty air.

“Oh I’m sorry love, got a little lost there. I’ll give you what you want.” 

The Master runs his fingers through your folds and your body lights up, every nerve crying, begging for more as he teases the edge of your hole. 

His fingers run up the length of your pussy until he finds that sweet, beautiful bundle of nerves that makes you cry out for him. He rubs circles on your clit, adjusting his technique until he finds the perfect rhythm to make you whimper and buck up against his fingers. His hand sends sparks through your body - quick laps of pleasure along your skin so good they almost sting. His other hand is running up and down your thigh, slow enough so his fingernails leave tingling trails in their wake that make you writhe. Your hands grapple at the Master’s sheets, needing something to ground you in the moment.

“Master, please—“ you beg as his fingers continue to work your clit. 

“Yes love?” He waits for your response with a knowing smile.

“Fuck me.” you gasp out, “I don’t wanna wait any longer. I want you.”

The Master huffs a laugh and gives you a warm look, “As you wish, love.”

He pulls your legs up and wrestles a soft pillow under your butt, making sure you’re good and comfy before settling between your legs. He takes a moment to drag himself between your folds and listen to your needy moans as his tip rubs against your clit. He doesn’t play around too long though. He’s determined to give you everything you want tonight, so he notches his cock at your entrance and slowly starts to work himself into your weeping hole.

“By the stars love, you’re so tight - hugging me so tight I can barely move.” The Master groans as he starts to gently thrust into you.“Look at the way you gush over me. You’re getting me all wet darling.” 

You can only whimper in response, too distracted by the stretch of his cock and the wonderfully full feeling to form proper words.  That’s not a problem for the Master though. He can feel it all flowing freely through your mind to his and it washes over him like a shower of compliments. 

He practically preens, feeling your pleasure and satisfaction wave over him like high tide - licking at every nerve, every exposed inch of skin until he feels hot. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you. Your hands are clutching the bedsheets for dear life as you writhe under the Master’s body. You hear a groan from him and something else unintelligible before he pounces on you.

“Stars, you’re so fucking hot.” The Master growls.

He leaps forward, slamming his lips to yours in a searing kiss as he begins to thrust his cock into your needy pussy. You moan against his lips and press your body against his - one of your hands tangles in his hair and tugs. He thrusts at a brutal pace, toying with that sensitive spot inside you. 

The Master breaks away from the kiss to trail countless wet, sloppy kisses down your throat. His tongue laps at your skin, leaving cool, wet trails in his wake. He works his way down to your breasts, punctuating every kiss with a thrust of his cock. 

He gives an experimental lick to one of your nipples and the breathless moan he gets from you is enough to quell his curiosity. He takes your nipple in his mouth and runs his tongue over it, paying close attention to the way your body shivers in response.

He cradles your other breast in his hand and toys with your other nipple - tracing around it with his nail until you whine - a breathy “please” falling from your lips. He rewards you with a pinch and works your two nipples until you’re writhing beneath him, thrusting your hips up to meet his own. 

The air shifts a little. You can feel something heavier and weightier starting to bleed through the Master’s mind into yours. You can’t place a name on the emotion, but you think it has to do with the Mermaid and everything that happened before you woke up in the TARDIS med bay.

 The Master pulls away from your breast to rest his chin on your chest. His hips slow. He holds one of your hands in his.

“Look at me love. Let me see your beautiful eyes.” He smiles when you look at him with bright, gleaming eyes. His voice is adoring when he speaks to you: “That was the Mermaid’s worst crime: changing your eyes. Changing you.” 

The Master starts to lay reverent kisses on your chest as he slowly grinds into you, letting your pleasure build subtle and slow.

“Look at you. So strong. So beautiful.” The Master murmurs, “You deserve this love. You’ve done so good today.” 

He seems like he can’t stop. All his emotions from earlier today are pouring from him like some stampede of thought.

“You saved me. In more ways than one. More than just today.” The Master admits against your warm skin, “How did you do that? How did you save a thing like me?” 

You don’t have a response; the answer is as much a mystery to you as it is to him. But you can move your hand down from his hair to hold his jaw and run a thumb over his cheek to acknowledge him. You can smile up at him and draw him in for a kiss, and let all your emotions flood through his mind until all he feels is the depth of your love for him.

The Master moans and pulls himself up from your chest. His hips pick up pace again, grinding into you harder and faster until he builds a steady rhythm.

“You’re perfect y���know that?” He groans out with a renewed vigor, “Absolutely perfect.”

He listens to your moans and feels your body’s reaction. He adjusts his thrusts until you’re a writhing mess beneath him, whimpering and whining as you listen to his ceaseless praise. 

“You beat the odds and bent that fucking Mermaid to your will. You brought it up the hill. You slammed that church door open. You’re the reason I’m still alive, love.” The Master has to pause, fighting off his release. The sight of you practically glowing in the lamplight below him is too much. All your soft warmth and quiet strength is overwhelming. He’s so proud of you that it overflows both of your minds and cascades through your bodies. It’s too much all at once. 

“You saved me.” He whispers against your lips.

“And you saved me.” You respond, leaning up to kiss him.

It’s like a switch is flipped, and now the Master is frantically kissing you and thrusting into you like an animal, desperate to give you everything you want and more. 

“I’m yours, darling. Entirely yours.” He pants into your ear. “The universe is yours if you so wish.”

Your moans are music to him; every thrust he gives is punctuated by your sultry, fucked-out voice and he’s convinced it’s the only sound that matters anymore. That is, until you card a hand through his hair and groan into his ear.

“Master, I’m close…” 

He groans, and takes that as a challenge of sorts. He won’t finish until you do, but he’s so damn close it’s getting hard to hold on. 

You notice his erratic thrusts; his shaking arms; the way he holds his breath and does everything he can to stave off his own release until you’re satisfied.

In an effort to help you, he reaches a hand down to play with your clit like he had before, drawing the most beautiful gasps and moans from your lips as your pleasure mounts - building into something tight and unbearable. 

It only takes a couple more thrusts and one last  circle on your clit to—

“Master! Don’t—don’t stop, I—please don’t stop! I—I’m—“

Your vision whites out. Your body writhes beneath the Master and wave after wave of pleasure slams through you until all that’s left is a boneless lump on the Master’s bed. For a moment, you’re entirely wiped out. You’re unable to move or think. You’re vaguely aware of the wetness between your thighs and the Master shuddering above you, heaving his breaths as he recovers from his own release.

You come down slow, enjoying the light airy feeling and the hazy pleasure that lingers afterwards. You twitch as the Master pulls his cock from you and leaves a little kiss on your clit. He quickly crawls up the bed to check on you.

“You alright there, love?” He smiles down at your fucked-out face. He’s still breathing heavy and the sight is beautiful to you.

“Mmhm.” You nod and smile back up at him. 

“How are you feeling? Done for the night or do you want more?” He asks, wiping a stray drop of sweat from your face.

He can feel your slight hesitation and quickly tries to reassure you: “It’s okay, love. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”

You nod, pulling a pillow into your arms.

“I want more…” you admit into the pillow, a bashful tone overtaking your voice.

“And how do you want it?” 

You look up at the Master to see him smiling. You return that smile with wide, excited eyes. His question is enough to reassure you and you answer him with one hundred percent sincerity:

“Fuck me into this mattress, Master.”

His cock twitches and he takes a shuddering breath.

“As you wish, love.” The Master purrs.

A few rounds later, you feel very thoroughly fucked into the mattress. Your bones feel like they’ve dissolved into jelly, and you’re little more than a puddle of hazy, happy pleasure.

And then there’s something warm and wet between your legs, reeling you back into reality. 

The sheets are askew, the support pillow is halfway across the room, and you’re certain your nails left scratches all over the headboard. 

And then Master is there, between your legs, cleaning you up with a warm washcloth. 

“There you go, love. Comfy?” 

You nod lazily and make grabby hands at him with the most convincing pout you can muster. 

The Master laughs. “Alright, darling. I’ll be right there.” 

He sets the washcloth aside and returns to his bathroom for a short moment, coming back out with a couple glasses of water. 

“You don’t have to drink this now, but you’ll probably want it when we wake up.”

You look straight past the glasses on his bedside table, focusing on him, how he moves, and how he’s joining you in bed. 

You scramble under the soft purple duvet and hold up the other side, inviting the Master in. He chuckles and slides in bed to be immediately smothered by your clingy cuddles.

He cuddles you right back, tangling his legs with yours and holding your body close to his. He covers the both of you in his deep purple duvet and turns to tell you goodnight.

You’re already passed out though, clinging to the Master’s body and using his chest as a pillow.

He laughs to himself and turns off the bedside lamps, then settles himself in the bed and falls right asleep with you.

The Master wakes a few hours later to the feeling of your body moving. You’re still asleep, just adjusting a bit. The room is still dark. He can see you well enough though, and takes this time to admire you and everything you had done yesterday.

He’d meant every word he said last night. He was astounded by your strength. He was proud of you for surviving. For saving him. 

But there was still this little voice in his head telling him that none of it should have happened; that you shouldn’t have had to save him; that that’s not your job when you’re traveling with him.

It’s not long before guilt starts to settle in, ruining what sweet afterglow he could have had as he admired you.

A small rustle next to him reels him back to reality.

“G’mornin’” you yawn and stretch out against the Master’s body.

“Good morning, love.” The Master says as he turns away for a moment to switch on the bedside lamps.

He laughs a little when you scrunch your eyes closed, and fight to let your eyes adjust to the new light. He gives you a warm look, taking in the features of your face as you slowly open your eyes.

“Have I ever told you how much I love the color of your eyes?” He whispers.

“I think you’ve mentioned it a time or two.” You smile up at him before noticing that something is just a hair off in his expression, “What’s wrong?” 

“Hmm? Oh, nothing’s wrong. Just enjoying my view.” 

“No. You’ve got that look on your face. The one you wear when something’s wrong, but you don’t want to scare me so you pretend everything’s fine.” 

“You really do know me, don’t you, darling?” 

“That I do.” You give a little sassy nod and wait for the Master’s explanation.

“Fine. It’s the trip. Yesterday.”

“What are you thinking about?” You sit up, giving the Master all of your attention.

“I just…yesterday was supposed to be a fun, seaside trip. I wanted to take you to the ocean and watch your face light up when you saw the beach - you’re always talking about how much you love the beach - and I just wanted to make you happy. But instead, I got it wrong. I almost lost you.” The Master reaches out to hold your hand - like he’s making sure you’re still here.

“Master, that isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault.”  

His gaze focuses on your fingers as he quietly inspects them.

“Isn’t it? If I had got the date right, none of this would have happened. You would have stayed safe.”  

“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen. Even with a time machine and your Time Lord super powers, you couldn’t have known.” You insist.

“I should have turned us around the minute I felt suspicious–” 

“It’s not your fault, Master.”  

“–but you looked so happy when you rushed out the TARDIS doors–” 

“Master, it isn’t–”  

“–and the way your face lit up when you heard the sound of the waves? How could I ever say no to that face? I couldn’t, so–” 

“Master–” 

“–so I let you go. I let you explore and I–” 

“Master.” 

“I put you in danger. Like I always do.” 

The look on the Master’s face was a punch to your gut. You could see tears starting to well in his eyes and a look in them that said he was trying to fight them back. You wrap your arms around him, bringing his head to rest on your chest before any could fall. 

“It’s not your fault, Master. It’s not your fault.” 

“I–I could have done m-more to save you. To keep the villagers from harming you.” 

“But you did save me. I’m still here. I’m right here, holding you, running my fingers through your hair – the same old me it’s always been.” You pause to rake your fingers through the Master’s hair, “Neither of us could have known how the villagers would react to us. Neither of us were prepared for anything like it. But we survived. And I’m still alive because you saved me.”

He nods into your neck, hugging you closer to him as his body shudders.

After a moment, he looks back up at you, wiping his eyes and cheeks before you say anything. He just keeps staring into your eyes, looking at you to make sure you’re really still there - making sure he really had gotten all of the Mermaid out of your mind. 

You notice the bags under his eyes. They’re still there despite how long the two of you slept. It makes you wonder. 

“Master, how long did you spend removing the Mermaid from my head?” 

He hesitates a moment and a guilty look starts to overshadow his eyes. 

“Ten hours.”   

Your eyes widen - practically popping right out of your head.

“Ten hours? Straight?” 

The Master nods, solemn. 

You are silent. Dumbstruck. You give the Master a look that pleads for an explanation or some rationale to explain what he was thinking. Ten hours straight to remove the alien in your head?

“It was a delicate process. One wrong move could have killed you and there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. I thought I lost you once last night, nothing in the universe could have stopped me from trying to save you.” 

“Master I–” The Master isn’t done.  

“Losing you, love, for however brief a moment, shattered me. I thought you were dead. Really, truly, there’s-no-coming-back-from-this dead. I didn’t even fight the villagers when they dragged me to the church. Or when they restrained me. Or when they were setting up that stupid ritual. I could only see the terror in your eyes as you were pushed over, and I could only think about how I couldn’t save you. I didn’t try hard enough to save you. I got distracted and I—“

“Master.” Your gentle voice pulls him from his rambling. You pull him into a hug, hoping it will help ground him.

“I’m scared of losing you.” The Master admits in a whisper against your neck. “I’ve never been more scared than I was last night.”

You place a kiss on his cheek and cradle his neck in your hand. You know there isn’t anything to say in response.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually he sits back up and cradles your head in his hand.

“Yknow, this whole traveling thing…I need you with me. It’s not worth it to travel the stars if you’re not here. If I had lost you last night…I’d–I’d lose myself. I don’t know what I’d become.”  

“You didn’t lose me, Master, you saved me. We saved each other.” 

The Master nods, pulling you back into his arms. He places a kiss just under your ear and nuzzles into your neck, taking a moment to appreciate how it feels to hold you.

You almost miss it, but right as you close your eyes, there’s a mumble against your ear.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Star and Mood Dividers By: @cafekitsune

Ocean Divider:

[clrasecretdiary]

Why does she give a damn about me? | Spencer Reid x Reader

cutesy, cheesy fluff

In wich Spencer thinks reader is out of his league but she could not be more into him.

Content: Garcia is a queen as always, sunshine!reader

Warnings: Maybe some light lack of self steem from spence, but nothing crazy!!

He was used to it at this point. Being the weird kid in high school and college, Spencer never really expected anyone to be into him and, after being rejected a couple of times, he had practically closed himself off in that sense. But then, you came into the picture.

You are one of those girls that everyone seemed to gravitate toward, not only because of your beauty but because of your essence. You were genuinely kind, smart and good with people in a way he wished he was, maybe that’s why he was so drawn to you, you had all the qualities he wished he had and being close to you made him feel complete.

Needless to say that he was in love with you, it had started as an admiration and when he realized he was thinking about you all the time, but he was sure you would never be into guys like him, he was sure you’d never see him as more than friends.

–

You had joined the team a few years ago, you were excited to finally be doing what you really wanted when you joined the BAU, going out in the field and being on cases instead of just working a desk job all the time. When you first met the team, everyone seemed very welcoming but you felt yourself especially drawn to Spencer out of all people, at first he seemed distant but with time you noticed how sweet he was and how much he cared for everyone around him and god that man was so funny, you loved his weird science jokes and his magic tricks. How were you supposed to not fall in love with him? You asked yourself that question every time he brought you coffee in the morning or went on his rambles about some random thing.

After a particularly intense inquiry from a very drunk Garcia in one of the girls' nights she organized at her home, you told her your feelings for Reid and she made you swear you would act on it.

“Garcia, I'm not confessing. He's not into me like that, i’ll just ruin our friendship”

“Oh honey, he practically kisses the floor you walk in, he follows you around the office like a lost puppy and practically kills any officer that dares to be the tiniest bit mean to you. There’s no way he’s not into you, at least try pretty please” She says, doing puppy eyes at you. Garcia took her job as a cupid very seriously and was not going to let this be her first fail.

“Alright, i’ll try but if he ends up hating me you’ll have to bake me cookies everyday until i die” You say rolling your eyes and finishing your glass of wine.

“Ohhh i’ll be cooking cookies for you guys wedding!”

–

So, here you are holding his favorite order from the local coffee shop and gathering the courage to press the button to the elevator

“Hey are you fine?” A familiar voice calls you, when you turn around its spencer.. Great, guess you’ll have to do this right now

“Oh hi yeah, I was just um… meditating”

“Did you know meditanting has been proven to increase your memory and is also great for reducing anxiety. I really should start doing it, what method do you use?” Spencer says while pressing the button to the elevator

“Ummm breath in, breath out i think” You say, unsure how to respond

“That's actually one of the best ways as it oxygenates your brain and helps it work better, it can also help you feel more calm since deep breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system that sends a signal to your brain to tell the anxious part that you're safe and don't need to use the fight, flight response” He says, doing the little smile and head nod thing he always does after info dumping.

You smile back at him, as you both enter the elevator and press the button to the BAU floor.

“I brought you something” You say, handing him the coffee shop bag

He opens it and smiles at you “I can’t believe you remembered my favorites, thank you so much” You love that smile so much, all you can think about is how perfect he is and how there’s no way you can continue on without dating this man.

“Actually, I need to tell you something spence… I was thinking, maybe we could go out together as like, a date or something” You say, already blushing from the embarrassment you felt and how scared you were that he did not reciprocate the feelings.

“Really? Of course i want, to be honest i’ve wanted to ask you to be honest but i thought you’d never see me like that”

“Are you kidding me spencer? I’ve had a crush on you since we first meet”

The elevator gets to the office, and you both walk in blushing and joking about how you two were so blind to each other's feelings. As you get in, garcia passes by you two stopping to stare

“There’s something happening here…” She says, pointing between you two and pressing her eyes together as if she’s profiling you two

“I asked him out”

“Oh my god finally, you see? I’m always right, I don’t even need to ask what he said, look at Reid, he’s glowing, ohh i’m so happy” She says, walking out to probably tell the news to everyone on the team.

[homestylehughes]

3 times nico wanted to kiss you and the 1 time he did.

pairing(s): nico hischier x fem!reader

summary: 3 times nico wanted to kiss you and the 1 time he did.

warning(s): absolutely none. pure sweet fluff :)

wc: 2.3k

an: hi loves! I'm so sorry for my lack of posting and staying on top of everything, life has been kinda kicking my ass recently BUT the show must go on! sooooo.. new nico fic! this is one of my favorite prompts of writing, so I hope you enjoy Nico's version! lmk if you'd like me to write anyone else to this! I loved writing this, and i hope you enjoy reading it! like and reblog if you do! I hope you all are healthy and well. much love as always<3

1.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nico swore as he kicked the front door of his apartment. Today wasn't his day, first the devils lost their game in a shootout, a game that they should have won. Having to sit through mindless, annoying media after, putting nico in an even more shitty mood. Then he got stuck in traffic on his way back home, his phone died halfway home, and just as he got out of his car it started pouring causing him to get completely soaked. Just to top it all off, if his day couldn't get any worse, he somehow left his keys inside his apartment. Which led to the three kicks Nico gave to his door before dropping his head against the cold wood. 

Nico, too busy trying to wrack his brain on how to get into his apartment, didn't hear the elevator door open, as someone began to walk down the hallway. 

“Nico, are you alright?” a sweet voice says from behind him.

turning his head slowly to see yn, his attractive, sweet as honey neighbor standing next to him in the hallway. 

“Uh hi” he rasps put

“Hi” she replies sweetly, “are you okay?” she asks again

“Um, not really. I haven't had the best day, and I happen to lock my keys in my apartment.” 

“Oh no, im sorry” she says, a genuine look of empathy running along her face 

“Its okay, i'm just going to stand here until it magically opens” nico chuckles out sadly to her 

“If you'd like you could come post up in my place until you can get back to yours? I don't want you to sit out here by yourself all night.” she says softly

“Oh no, i don't want to be a bother”

“Nico you won't be a bother, and i'm offering so please” she says to him with pleading eyes

“Okay, thank you so much. I'll be out of hair as soon as i can” he smiles to her

“Don't even worry about it, you're more than welcome over at any time.” She smiles at him, turning on her heel to the other side of the hall to open her door, Nico following behind her, shutting the door after him. 

“I see you've changed some things, since the last time i've been here” nico says as he looks around her apartment

“I have! Changing it up a bit for the different seasons. Do you like it” yn asks shyly

“I do, its very..you” he smiles to her

“Thank you Nico, that's very kind.” 

“Oh! You're soaking wet, let me see if I have anything you can wear. Follow me” she says, turning away to make her way to what nico thinks to be her bedroom as he follows her.

“Yn you don't have too” he says, feeling bad that she's doing all of this for him 

“Nico please stop apologizing it's okay, i promise” her hands rummaging through her dresser as she speaks 

“Here! I have there huge sweatpants and shirt from my college days hopefully this works for you” she smiles, holding out the clothes in front of her

“This is great thank you” he smiles back, taking them from her hands. His gaze lingering a little longer than it should over her face, taking in the soft color of her eyes, as well as her smile, drinking each bit of her features as he could. 

“The bathrooms right down the hall, feel free to shower if you'd like. I'm about to get started on dinner” 

“Okay great, thank you so much again” nico says for the 15th time he thinks tonight

“Of course nico, whatever you need im always here” sending him another sweet smile, that almost makes him drop to his knees

“Well i'm going to get changed, i'll be down in a little” 

“Of course! I'll be in the kitchen, let me know if you need anything’’

Nico nods in response before finding the door to the bathroom, entering before closing the door behind him. Looking at himself in the mirror at his wet dog appearance. Sighing before turning around, opening the shower, turning on the water to the highest setting. Peeling off his wet clothing before getting in, the hot water is doing wonders for his sore body. 

The loss of the game, or being locked out of his apartment weren't on his mind anymore. The only thing he could think about was you, and how kind and sweet you were to him and how much he wanted to kiss you. 

2. 

Nico stands outside your door after delivering 3 heavy knocks in hopes that you're home. Since the night he spent in your place, you and Nico have gotten closer, meeting each other for coffee at least once a week, talking to each other in the hallway whenever you see each other, along with constantly keeping incontact over text. 

Nico who had been gone on a week and a half roadie is finally home, after learning one day when he was gone that you've never been to a devils game he decided that he wanted to change that, which leads him to where he is now. Holding a jersey with his number on it, in hopes that you'll wear it and 3 tickets for you and any two friends you'd wish to invite. 

Your door opens signaling that your home, nico perking up instantly once he sees your face.

“Nico! You're home hi!” you say, quickly pulling him a hug, pulling back quickly sending him a smile.

“I am, and i have a gift for you” he says with a smile

“Nico..what did i tell you about gifts” yn says sending him a slight pout 

“Oh shush, you're going to like this, here” he says holding the jersey and envelope in front of her to grab

Opening the envelope and looking at the jersey silently, pausing before looking up at him. 

“Nico this is so sweet” she says before pulling him another hug

“I hope to see you there, if you aren't busy” 

“Luck for you, im off that day” 

“Good, i can't wait to see you in my jersey” he says with a slight smirk on his face 

“Me neither..captain” she says sending him a wink 

Nico can feel his chest and his pants tighten at the nickname that rolls so smoothly off your tongue. 

“Well i'll let you get back to your night” 

“Right, thank you for this again, can't wait to see you in action in person.” yn says with a giggle

“I'll play my best just for you” 

“You better..captain. Goodnight nico” yn says, sending him another hollywood famous smile

“goodnight, yn” sending her one last smile, before turning towards his door, hearing her door softly shut just as he opens his. 

Entering his apartment, shutting it behind him, dropping his head against it. The only thoughts running through his mind is how would your lips taste against his. 

3. 

It's the night of the game you're attending and Nico couldn't be more scared as he steps on the ice for warmups. The whole team was already picking on him before the game in the locker room, when they found out a girl Nico was interested in was coming to watch the game tonight, thanks to jack. 

Making his normal rounds on the ice, practicing a few goals, passing a few pucks to jack and luke as he tries to settle his nerves. He spent the last two minutes of the warm ups looking all over for you in the stands, unable to remember where your seats are at, he hopes that you're somewhere in the stands. 

The warmups end as the team now gets ready for the start of the national anthem, lining against the blueline as the song starts. dropping his head, closing his eyes letting the song relax his nerves before the game. Once the song ends. He begins to skate off the ice, but not before he sees your face. 

There you are standing, in the stands with the brightest smile he's ever seen on your face. Your hair falls perfectly as you laugh at something one of your friends said, before turning back towards the ice where you lock eyes with him. Sending him a wave and smile, Nico flashing the same in return. His eyes taking over your jersey covered body, his jersey, his number, he can't help but feel a sense of pride as he looks at you one last time before making his way to the bench. 

“I know that look” jack says beside him, sending him a light shoulder push, “she's here isn't she?” he asks, already knowing the answer 

“She is, and she looks beautiful”

“You gave her your jersey didnt you?” jack asks a teasing smile on his face 

“ i did” nico replies meeting jacks eyes, his face now holding a shit eating grin

“Awwww little Nico's in love!” jack laughs 

“Shut up.” 

“When are you going to ask her out?” he asks 

“Soon, i hope” he replies 

“You really like her huh?” 

“I really like her” 

Really liking her as nico called it would be an understatement. He would give her the moon, and anything in between, if it would make her happy. He wants to know what it's like to take her on dates, wake up next to her everyday, and most importantly what it's like to kiss her. 

+1 

“Dinner at my place at 7?” reads the text from yn as nico checks his phone after practice, a smile spreading across his face as he responds sending, “i'll be there at 7:)” before setting his phone down, to finish getting dressed. 

“What's the smile on your face cap?” Jack asks from beside him, as he picks up his gear. 

“What, can a guy not smile anymore?” he replies 

“We know who put a smile on your face cap” Jack snickers to him. “So when are you gonna grow a pair and ask her out?” he asks, as he and Nico make their way out of the locker room.

“I don't know, maybe tonight? She invited me over for dinner. Sometimes i can't tell if she likes me or not” nico sighs out

“Dude.” jack says as he turns to look at nico

“You actually can't be serious. She's definitely into you. She literally came to her first NHL game and wore your jersey, AND she invited you over for dinner randomly. She definitely likes you.” 

“I hope so, i'll ask her tonight '' Nico says confidently, Jack's words finally knocking some sense into him. 

“You better, or I'll do it myself” Jack says with a smirk, Nico sending him a glare at his words causing Jack to let out a deep laugh as they make their way to their cars. 

“YOU BETTER DO IT!” jack says out his car window, as he pulls out 

“I WILL” Nico shouts back, sending him a thumbs up. 

As nick drives home the only thing on his mind is you, and how tonight he wouldn't back down, that tonight he'd ask you out, and maybe just maybe even kiss you. 

– 

Nicos hand slightly shakes as he goes to knock on your door, giving it a firm knock. His grasp on the bouquet of flowers tightens as he hears your footsteps on the other side of the door. 

“Hi” yn smiles at him as she opens her front door, stepping back quickly allowing nico to come in, closing the door behind them. 

“Hi, it smells wonderful in here. What's on the menu tonight chef?” nico asks as he follows yn into her kitchen 

“It's a surprise” she says, finally turning around to meet his eyes. Nico finally got a good look at her for the first time tonight. He can't help but stare at her, taking in all of her beautiful features, mesmerized by how effortlessly beautiful she is. 

“Nico?” yns sweet voice breaking him out his daydream

“Yeah?” 

“Are you okay? You kinda just stared at me for a sec” 

“Yeah yeah, I'm okay. Just got lost in thought. Oh! These are for you” he says trying to change the subject, holding the flowers out for her to take.

“Aw these are so cute! how'd you know these are my favorites?” yn asks, a bright smile on her face as she takes the flowers from him. 

“You told me” 

“Wasn't that like months ago?” 

“I try to remember everything about you. I know your favorite flower are tulips, and that you hate peas, how you only sleep on the left side of any bed." Nico cuts himself before he embarrasses himself anymore than he has. His face heats up with a deep shade of red as yn stands there staring at him wide eyed over his words.

“I'm sorry that was too much, and uncalled for.” he quickly says, in a miserable attempt to cover his tracks 

“No ones ever taken the time to ever know me like that before” yn says quietly  

“ I don't know why anyone would. Everything about you is perfect and beautiful” he says, finding her gaze. 

“Do you really mean that?” 

“I meant every word.” Nico says as  he continues to look at her. He can almost see the gears moving her head as she tries to find her words. Instead of speaking, Nico suddenly feels her soft lips against his. 

His body moving before his brain does, wrapping his hands around her face pulling her into his body, their lips moving in sync. 

“Wow” nico whispers, pulling away from her lips

“Why didn't we do that sooner?” yn says almost against nico lips, bringing her head up to look at nico whose hands are still around her face. 

“I don't know, but I think I want to do it again, '' Nico says before softly kissing her. 

[yangkitties]

Stray Kids as… your college boyfriends <3

pairing: ot8 x gn!reader || word count: 1.1k genre: 100% fluff 🫶 || warnings: none (except you will feel extremely single after reading this-), not proofread but i think it should be okay :D synopsis: how stray kids are as your college boyfriends :] note: !! it's here !!! my first post !! i'm excited, i hope you enjoy 😁🫶 (feel free to pop into my ask box to chat hehe)

Chan

let’s you steal his hoodies 

super late night study sessions together 

probably walks the entire campus just to pick you up from class 

soooo many cuddle sessions 

late night grocery runs

The room is mostly quiet, the silence punctuated by the click clack of computer keys and the lazy scribble of pens as you and Chan work side by side. A few more pages of notes and you’d be done for the day. 

The night grows, slowly but surely, yet the both of you stay by each other’s sides, working in harmony. The silence is broken finally by a barely stifled yawn, coming out of your mouth. 

‘You tired, darling?’ Chan asks, spinning in his chair to face you. 

‘Not really, just hungry.’ You reply, stretching your arms. 

A beat of silence passes before you make eye contact, his dark brown eyes filling your vision. You already knew what each of you were going to say, but it didn’t matter. 

‘Late night grocery run?’ You both giggle, already getting up to grab your jackets. 

Minho

loads of walks in the campus park while holding hands 

you guys get a small apartment together and adopt a cat 

lots of weekend trips away

cooks lunch for you and leaves cheesy notes in them >.<

likes to lovingly tease you at any given point of time 

Soft purring wakes you up from a nap, and you feel the scratch of soft fur beneath your chin the more conscious you become.  Your eyes are filled with the sight of a sheepish Minho, whose arms are full holding a writhing fur ball. 

‘Sorry, I tried not to let him wake you up.’ He apologises, a small kiss placed on the crown of your head. 

You smile, ‘It’s okay, its high time I woke up anyways.’ You pull the cat into your arms, gently petting his head. 

‘Well that’s right. If you spent anymore time sleeping, you’d end up becoming prettier than me.’ Minho rolls his eyes before joining you on the couch, his head soon finding solace on top of your shoulder. 

Changbin

holds your hand whenever he can

long drives to the beach or nearby towns >:( 

takes you out every weekend 

gets matching tattoos that are tiny so even if you break up you won’t forget him

SERENADES YOU ALL THE TIME !!!! Sitting together, doing nothing? Singing for you. Cooking? Singing for you. Loves the way you blush when he sings for you <3 

It’s a peaceful night, where the both of you are just chilling together. A comfortable silence wraps around the both of you as you do your own things. 

The silence is soon broken, as Changbin’s sweet voice fills your ears. Another pretty love song flows past his lips, causing a smile to break out onto your face. 

‘Why, thank you my Binnie baby.’ You giggle, reaching over and kissing him softly. 

‘Anything for you sweetheart.’ 

Hyunjin

FORCES you to steal his hoodies 

leaves cute little doodles all over ur things. enjoys sketching you <3

so. many. kisses. 

let’s you play with his hair when your stressed 

tries to help you study but ends up distracting you

A flash of a yellow sticky note catches your eyes as you arrange your textbook on your desk. When you flip it open you see a small doodle of a flower on it, with the message ‘a pretty flower for my pretty flower <3 - love hyune’ 

You quickly take a picture, sending a text out to Hyunjin. 

‘thank you baby <3’ 

It takes but a second for you to receive a reply. 

‘anything for you my love’ 

Jisung

soooo many movie nights 

endless cuddles 

takes you out to small impromptu dates ever so often

enjoys sharing clothes with you! more than you stealing his hoodies, he’s stealing your clothes, and occasionally accessories 

likes getting kisses from you

‘Hey honey, where’s that light green hoodie of yours? I bought some new pants and I want to see if they match,’ Jisung calls out as he claws through your wardrobe. 

‘Babe didn’t you wear it two days ago? It should be in the laundry then.’ You giggle as Jisung turns around with a pout. ‘Damn I really wanted to wear it…’

‘Well maybe you should consider buying your own one, instead of stealing all of mine.’ You joke, knowing full and well that he’d rather wear yours. 

Felix 

bakes you treats whenever your stressed (it’s stress relieving for him too) 

BACK HUGS WHENEVER HE SEES YOU 

picnic dates

holds your hand while walking to class 

makes matching bracelets for you both 

Two strong arms encircle your waist, immediately indicating that Felix had found you. You look up to see his endearing smile, dimples popping and eyes shining. 

‘Hello my lovely Lix.’ You coo at him before he could even say anything. 

‘Hi baby! I was just walking to class and I saw you waiting outside. Want me to walk you to your next lecture?’ Felix offers, now beside you, arms wrapped around your shoulder. 

‘I’d love that, thank you.’ You beam up at him as the both of you make your way over to your next class. 

Seungmin

kisses you allllll over your face, but especially loves ur nose

sings you to sleep when ur stressed 

so many goddamn library dates fr, just sitting in silence, studying together 

brings you your morning coffee everyday 

likes to take you shopping because he loves the way you smile when he says you look good <3 

‘How does this look?’ You twirled around once, showing off a simple jumper for Seungmin to judge. 

A soft smile takes over Seungmin’s lips, as his thumb brushed against your wrist. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous baby,’ he said. 

‘Thank you, my love.’ You smile at him before dipping into the trail room once more. 

Jeongin

the best boyfriend fr fr!! walks to class with you, holds your hand, actually helps you study

gets you so many matching items <3

is a shy baby when it comes to showing PDA

temple/forehead kisses 

likes to take you out on simple dates

‘Cmon just another second, don’t open your eyes yet!!!’ Jeongin pleaded as you rolled your closed eyes, huffing as your boyfriend struggled to surprise you. 

‘Okay, you can open them now!!’ In front of your eyes, Jeongin’s palm lays open with 2 silver necklaces in it. You picked one up and noticed that the heart pendant had your initials engraved in it. ‘Do you like it? The one with your initials is for me and the one with my initials is for you.’ Jeongin smiles expectantly, noticing the shine in your eyes.   

‘Oh baby, I love it… thank you.’ 

©️ yangkitties 2023 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

[seiwas]

sellie bee! for your game > touya + flicker?? (if you feel comfortable writing for him again, your touya from the shoto fic was so beloved to me) 💕

amber!! thanks for sending in a lil prompty 🥺 ofc i would write him again!! for you!! anything!!! 🥺 my touya from that fic is also so dear to me 🥺 i'm glad you like that little guy 🥺

help me get back into the writing groove! send me a character + any word and i'll write a short blurb about it!

contains: non-canon au, childhood friends

touya + flicker

there's a light by your bedside, one that flickers when its loose wire finds itself tangled around the leg of your bed frame. it doesn't happen all the time, but it's always bothered touya, ever since you were kids.

"fuyumi says that when lights go on and off like that they can go boom," he mimics an explosion with his hands, not quite knowing the term for it yet at 5.

(when you recall the memory, you realize that he must have meant a spark, not the flickering of lights.)

it bothers him so much that he figures out a way to fix it by age 10. he uses a small claw clip, a translucent gray plastic you've seen on his mother many times before. he clips the wire to your bed frame that way, keeping it in place.

it's a bandaid solution, because time creates cracks on the plastic, the metal spring falling apart despite being fused at the hinges.

(and again, looking back, you should have noticed that time had left its mark on touya the same way.)

the light flickers again.

"you'll have shitty eyes if you don't change it," he moves the wire aside until it stops. at 15, touya's become jaded. what once was a twinkling set of aquamarine is now a dull pair of teal, staring straight at you as he speaks.

you know it has something to do with his family, but you don't ask unless he talks about it.

(in hindsight, maybe you should've. because when touya runs away from home the following year, you only catch glimpses of him in the next ten years.)

he visits you at 17, taller and dressed darker than what you're used to. his hair is dyed a jet black, a few cuts and bruises scattering the expanse of his arms. he sees that your light is still flickering and fixes it like muscle memory, not once acknowledging the fact that it's been two years since he's seen you last.

"you can stay with me," you offer him, desperately.

he gives you a wry smile, "can i?"

and you know it's not really a question. you'll be heading off to college soon; there's no real place where you can keep him.

when you move into your dorm in the first year of uni, you leave your lamp behind but find that the lights in your shared bathroom flicker just as bad. it makes you think of him, in the lonely hours especially.

you're surprised when you bump into him at age 20, near campus, barely recognizing him at all. for a brief moment, you see the same shock mirrored on his face, but it disappears when you blink, and when you say his name, "touya—"

"dabi," he corrects you.

it's at 22, when you move into your own apartment and bring the same light from your childhood bedroom, that you find your thoughts floating back to him once more.

you offered right before graduating, the last time you saw him―told him you'd be moving into a new place and he could stay with you there. no one would know about it, no one would bother him.

but touya is a flight risk, appearing in and out of your life like the flickering of your bedside light. you outstretch your hand and he bats it away instinctively, withdrawing from you until he feels like you won't bring it up again.

you do though, every time. the next year, the year after that, when you're both 25. you look for him more consciously now, finding that he's always somehow nearby―by the potted flowers on your windowsill that remain alive despite week-long work trips; by paid for cups of coffee in cafes, the doors whooshing shut as you look for who it could possibly be from.

you've known touya for almost all of your life, and giving up on him isn't an option at all. your heart can't take it, the same way you can't bring yourself to fix your bedside light, its flickering an odd source of hope that he might one day be so fed up, he'll have to come and fix it himself.

and then he'd have to stay―to keep the flickering at bay. to keep the light working. one day.

[reginamillls]

I wanted to spread some good vibes in the fandom, so what are five cute headcanons you have about BuckTommy or Tommy? 🥰 And if you want to, send an ask like this to someone else.

OH THIS IS CUTE ty for sending this to me

1. I AM A CAT DAD TOMMY TRUTHER

so obviously he has one in the future but I'm imaging a much smaller, younger Tommy who would sneak out and feed the stray cat in his yard

who coaxed the cat to trusting him and who found the cat a home when his father wouldn't allow it

for a little while he had something soft in his life who loved him just for him

2. Tommy is the kind of guy who is aware that he's a big guy you know? he helps people get things off of the top shelf in grocery stores and volunteers to help pick up heavy things - he's the friend who actually means it when he says he would help someone move

3. one time when Tommy was really low and was just so tired about hiding things, he came across a food tuck that had a pride flag pinned proudly to its's side - all of the food was puns and it was run by three college aged kids and the owner - Tommy sat outside on a picnic table near the truck for the longest time and when he finally ordered - something sweet, this man has a sweet tooth - it was met with a smile, something bright when things were hard, and he followed this truck on instagram and when he was finally out he would bring people to the truck and he is one of their best customers and the owner has a picture of Tommy with the truck on their socials and they make food up for him on the spot - and when he brings Buck there for a date they all know who he is "THE FAMOUS EVAN" and Tommy blushes so hard

4. Tommy's clothes are comfortable and practical, he has a few "good shirts" for the occasional dates but otherwise he just picks what fits - at some point he picked up a jacket from a thriftshop and didn't even know it was designer until someone pointed it out - when Buck buys him a soft cashemere sweater for the colder weather, Tommy wears it and kisses Buck softly and he starts adding a little more color in his wardrobe, but he never feels pressure to, he just likes Buck's smile when he wears them

5. Tommy "avoid lonlieness through various hobbies" Kinard has made candles, he's taken chocolate making classes, he rock climbs when he cans and has had several ball room lessons, at some point he even tried horse back riding, he's done a little bit of everything and later he shares these various hobbies with the family he finally finds

[delulu-with-wandanat]

International Affair

Welcome to my shameless self-insert series🤭 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Last

Reader Description: Masculine style, They/He, AFAB, International Student, 20 Years Old. Sometimes will be describe using masculine terms (man, boy, handsome, etc)

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x InternationalStudent!Reader

Warnings: Specified age gap (Wanda is 34).

Summary: For their summer break, Y/n decided to spend it in a little town called Westview. It was there when they met Wanda Maximoff. A woman in her 30s with two kids, who seems to be attracted to the college student despite being married.

New York University's tuition was fucking ass. It really is, at a whopping $64,000 tuition fee per year. And that's only the tuition fee, the total estimate of studying in NYU plus living cost was probably over $90,000. Exactly it's fucking insane. Despite receiving a sponsorship from their parent's good friend and also financial aid from NYU, he still needed to figure out how to pay it back.

Sometimes they feel like smacking their head for choosing to study in a city where it's known for its back bank breaking living cost. Can you blame him though? Those tall buildings, shining lights, bustling nightlife, sounds of gunshots, and a huge opportunity for a creative person such as themselves, along with a dash of capitalism. Y/n couldn't help but be fascinated. That American dream that he had been chasing since he saw the Devil Wears Prada.

It was now summer vacation. Instead of going home for the summer, Y/n decided to join this Homeshare Summer program. Basically an elderly person provides home for students to share during the summer. The benefits are plenty, but most notably, cheaper housing rent. His roommates also joined this program, together they sublease their apartment. Adding extra funds to their breaking bank account.

In return, the students must help their elderly host with basic domestic needs. Mostly light household tasks; preparing and sharing meals, tidying up, chores, walking a pet, etc.

Y/n ended up matching with someone in a small town called Westview somewhere in New Jersey. As much as he loves New York, he wanted to spend his summer somewhere else in America.

He matched with a lovely widow named Melina Vostokoff. He learned that she has 2 daughters, both whom are adults with their own respective career. She needed a companion, understandably so, and Y/n was more than happy to assist her in anyway she might need.

"Y/n." Melina called.

"Yes, Mrs. Vostokoff?" Y/n looked up from their laptop, they were sitting on the dinner table editing some footage.

"Oh dear, please, I told you to call me Melina."

"Sorry, Melina. Force of habit." He said with a smile. "What's up?"

"Would you please send all this batches of cookies around the neighborhood? I already have a list of houses on where you can drop them." Melina is known for sharing batches of cookies for free around the neighborhood. Why? Out of kindness.

And also the fact that she loves baking, but ended up not being able to finish it all. So she shares them around the neighborhood.

"Sure, Melina! I'll do that right away."

So he sets of to drop off delicious dessert for Westview citizens. Melina had told them that this was a good chance to ask around for a summer job as well. Which is what he had initially planned to do anyway. Finally they reached the last house, Maximoff Household. They weren't so lucky with the other neighbors, but last one's a charm right? He rang the doorbell.

A person then opens the door. "Hello, I was just-" Holyfucking shit. This woman was absolutely gorgeous.

"May I help you?" She ask, god her voice is sexy.

"Uhhh..." Snap out of it! "Sorry! I'm Y/n, I'm the student staying over the summer at Mrs. Vostokoff. She told me to drop off her Bi-Weekly batches of cookies."

Wanda wasn't stupid, she noticed their nervousness and found it adorable. "Lovely to meet you, Y/n. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff." She offered her hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Maximoff." He shook her hand.

"Do you go to Westview University?" She was rather intrigued by the younger one.

"No, ma'am. I actually go to NYU, I'm studying film production."

Wanda raised an eyebrow and smiled. "How impressive. Though I must ask, why choose to spend your summer here?"

Damn... her smile.

"Mainly a much cheaper living cost, other than that I figured It'll be good for me to explore other parts of America. New Jersey is not far so it's a good place to start."

"Ah, an International student I see. Is it one of those Homeshare programs?"

"It is!" The student beamed.

What a charming smile he has, Wanda thought to herself. "Say, how old are you, Y/n." She ask while leaning against the door frame, her tone was... rather flirty.

"Um... I'll be turning 21 this year." Wanda hummed at the answer. For what reason Y/n doesn't know either. "Here are your cookies, ma'am." Well shit, he was getting nervous again. Obviously, Wanda staring at him with a look he can't quite pin.

"Oh! Thank you, dear. My sons absolutely love Melina's cookies." She took the container from them.

"Well that's no surprise, I could live off from those cookies alone." They said while laughing lightly. "So I take it you've lived here for a while?"

"Yes, I've lived here for years with my twin boys and husband." Damn it, they thought. "Anything you would like to know?"

"Yes actually! I've been looking for a summer job, but I haven’t had any luck."

"Well, lucky for you, a friend of mine who owns the Cafe in town is looking for a new Barista. She just recently opened the position."

"That's great news! Thank you so much for letting me know, Mrs. Maximoff." They said with a smile, Wanda had another idea in mind.

"However, I think they're only offering part-time. If you're looking for some extra work, I may need a few... help around the house. Would you be interested?" She asked with a devilish smile.

Y/n, being too excited at the possibility of finally landing a job, failed to notice the flirty undertone in Wanda's sentence. "Absolutely!"

"Splendid! Come over to my house tomorrow and we'll discuss the details."

"I will see you tomorrow, Mrs. Maximoff. Thank you again!" The young man said with a bright smile, he started walking backwards onto the sidewalk.

"See you tomorrow, Y/n." Once they turned their backs on her, Wanda bit her lip. She had multiple things in mind for Y/n to help her with.

I did a quick research on the law of international students working in the US. I didn't get into detail but it basically said yes but there are restrictions. So ignore the actual laws, and y'know just - whatever man it's a fanfic :') When I saw the estimated cost of studying in NYU i almost cried-

Also I hope you guys don’t mind I go with a more masculine reader for this one (i really want to be called a good boy by Wanda)

I hope the reader description doesn’t confuse you guys, if it does. Its ok, i self inserted myself and im very confused abt my gender-

[ghcstao3]

I saw your tags, you have challenged me!

Scary Show AU (cw for cannibalism and murder)

Ghost is a very well-known yet still semi-anonymous Voice Actor for spooky shit. There's a huge following for him because, regardless of what role he's playing, he does a phenomenal job. He's only listed in the cast list as "S.R.Ghost"

Typically he plays the role of the creatures in this super popular show called "Cryptid Season" which follows a gang of college kids desperate for extra credit in their Biology class so they hunt cryptids as evidence/to study for their papers. He does the voice over and some of the motion capture (he's a big dude) for the monsters and such, his most famous one being "Goatman" (from the demonic Goatman's bridge in I think Texas?)

Meanwhile Soap is this animator who's starting to become really popular, and he announces a new show in the work: "Consume", where he voices one of the two lead roles. It's presented as a show about a normal, if not very lonely man, being tormented by a demonic presence in his home.

Plot twist: dude's actually a cannibalistic serial killer and ends up quickly befriending the demon. The demon helps make the man harder to track by police forces in exchange for the bones and souls of his victims.

Cast:

Soap as the killer

Ghost as the demonic entity

Gaz as a detective who's new to the case but also best friends with Soap's character

Price voices the seasoned detective who's been working this case "too damn long"

Ghost and Soap ABSOLUTELY fall in love while recording scenes together. The banter, the flirting, the sexy scenario of cutting up a corpse together; it's too much not to fall in love irl

(actually such a big brain idea but I don't know how you'd write it tbh lmao. Maybe the show itself, where the boys keep their names? Idk the original idea turned into something much greater)

took a minute to figure something out i'm ngl but i did. something (in any case i would love to see your proper takes(s) if you'd be up to it, seeing as it's your idea!! i feel like i couldn’t do it justice)

-

Just like any other actor, Ghost had to audition for the role.

His agent books it for him without consultation, knowing the project would be right up his alley—horror, monsters, no face required—and Ghost makes no argument in sending in his tape. He recognizes this process and takes no issue with it, and once out of his hands, he waits patiently for a congratulatory offer or a gentle rejection.

Just like any other movie, or show, or what have you. Consume is no different.

Supposedly. At first.

John "Soap" MacTavish is... many things. He's charming, according to most. Talented. A joy to be around. A man who wears more than several hats of a project, which certainly tells of someone trying to worm their way into the commercial industry.

He has the spirit and creativity, Ghost will allow him that. But he also doesn't know when to stop talking as soon as the important work is done.

Is Soap professional? Sure. Does Soap make sure all jobs are done with efficiency and done well? Yes, he does. Does it make him any less of a nuisance to Ghost? Absolutely not.

But Ghost would be damned if the project doesn’t find its way into his soft spots, despite its nature. He’d be damned if he doesn’t fall in love with Soap’s animations and the hard work and craft he puts into them.

Then he blinks, and the pilot is premiering. It does well (again, considering its content), and Consume is properly green-lit.

Which is when Soap proposes the idea of recording their lines in the same room. Together. Facing one another. Because banter, and chemistry, and whatever other reasons he insists upon.

Personally, Ghost wants to decline. He’s always felt somewhat awkward when recording as such with anyone, but professionally? He couldn’t really say no, could he?

And it is awkward, at first. There’s more takes than usual, and Ghost can sense Soap’s frustration, though the man never expresses it. He just plasters on a tight smile, calls for a break, and pulls Ghost aside.

Surely, surely this is where Ghost gets fired. This is where Ghost is told he’s going to be replaced, where he’s told to say goodbye to Gaz and Price and wish them luck, and move onto his next gig. This is where—

“Have I done something wrong?”

Soap’s face is so earnest. So painfully sincere.

Ghost clenches his jaw. Shakes his head.

“No, I—“ He sighs. “Just have to get used to the… face-to-face. Let’s—I’ll try again.”

Soap smiles wider, now, as he nods, something kind and warm and brilliant.

The second try goes much smoother. Ghost takes a deep breath and eases himself into scripted dialogue, into witty banter and subtle flirts like it’s any other project.

They continue to record lines as such, just the two of them, each episode at a time. At some point, Ghost worries, the line between script and show and reality gets blurred. At some point, he fears, that flirting becomes genuine.

And what would he know—the reviews only get better as that line becomes less and less clear. Natural, real-feeling dialogue, critics say. The relationship is authentic, claim viewers.

The love is actually heartfelt.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make Ghost realize a few things about himself.

About Soap.

Consume is no different, his ass. He might have to have a stern talk with his agent in the near future.

(Or not.)

[bellysoupset]

Hey Soup~

It's so nice to see you being active again 💞

For a mini fic idea: can we please get a snippet of Max' thoughts after Vince took care of him and they talked a little during that field trip?

As always, feel free to ignore if it's not good enough

(I'm going to come back and comment on so many things in your recent stories soon, but I saw your post about mini fics and thought "why not")

- 💜

Hi darling!! I hope life is treating you well! 💕

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

Max felt like he had just been run over by a truck. Physically and emotionally.

He had been so happy about the field trip, not only because at heart he was still a little bit of a kid and really enjoyed all the jumping and running around, but because he had been invited by the kids, unlike other teachers. He was the teacher they trusted, the one they came to for college recommendations and letters, the one that they weren't shy about asking for extra credit or opening up about problems at home. Max was proud of this.

So it had been a blow to his ego to be bed ridden for all of the trip, entirely at Monacelli's mercy. He had missed out in a lot of shenanigans, had only heard about them second hand by Vince during the last night at the hotel, when Max finally had been aware enough to ask questions. He hated the amount of vulnerability he had been forced to show, how much he had relied on Vince and he hated even more missing out in such a formative thing.

Then there was the matter of Vince.

Max slumped against his front door and slid down to the ground, without energy to walk all the way to his bedroom. He had been putting up a brave face for the past twelve hours in an effort to convince his coworker he didn't need a hospital and definitely didn't need a nanny, but it was taking its toll. He felt awful.

His stomach was gurgling unhappily, rejecting the saltine crackers he had been munching on since they left the hotel, eight hours before. His body was ravenous, his head cottony, his stomach sore and queasy and he felt really close to crying, because Max had never felt so incredibly lonely.

He had never felt so... Cared for as he had been in the last three days. It was pathetic and sad to even think it and Max let out a groan and uncurled from his position, deciding he'd rather lick his wounds in bed.

The blonde didn't bother showering, despite the fact he really should've. Instead he climbed up his bed with great effort and curled up under the blankets while still wearing his jeans and shoes, because he had no more strength. His head was throbbing and the minute he buried his nose in his pillow, his mind started drifting.

His mom telling him little kids shouldn't be pillaging their bodies with medicine - who knows what chemicals are in there? - and so the easiest way to end a fever was by riding through it.

Monacelli sitting on the ground next to his bed and playing tic tac toe because Max kept waking up every fifteen minutes thanks to the cramps, using his own pen to mark Max's Xs, "here? You sure about that, man?"

His parents yelling down the hall because his father had gotten him mcdonalds for breakfast instead of cooking and he had ended up throwing up in the school bus and the school nurse had called them. "You didn't have to go! They were just being dramatic, like they're always are! They call us every week!" "If none of us show twice in a row they'll call my job again James!"

"What are you gawking at?" Monacelli had asked on their second day there, once Max's fever had finally broke and he was able to sit up in bed, "you need anything?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm not, really," Vince had shrugged, then crossed the room to put away his towel, shaking his wet hair and sending droplets Max's way, causing him to frown, "I just brought you dinner, relax."

"You brought me one of everything," Max had pointed out, nodding to his untouched plate. His stomach still felt iffy and he didn't want to risk his luck once the heaving had finally ceased.

"I don't know what you can eat or not, you said your stomach is sensitive," Vince had gestured to the plate, "you're not gonna eat?"

"Not hungry," Max had curled up further, feeling more than a little woozy.

"Thirsty though? I can run to the kitchen as grab you a smoothie before they close, that might be easier on your belly."

"He's going to fail because of attendance," "he's failing because he doesn't apply himself, not because of attendance. He's always faking sick, always skipping class, anything in the world not to study." "With the stellar role model he's had, it's a wonder" "Not everything wrong with him is my fault, Maya." "Most of it is."

A horrible ringing interrupted his drifting away and Max pushed through the fog, trying to identify the noise. He reached for his phone in the bedside table, then groaned when he didn't find it. His jeans, his pocket...

He clumsily tried to hang up when the number was unknown, but instead took the call and Max groaned loudly, before barking "What?"

"Hey, it's Vince," the other teacher's cheerful voice was the last thing Max wanted to hear, maybe for the rest of his days. It felt... Soothing. Like a cold compress against a feverish forehead, where the better it feels, the worse you are, "was wondering if you got home safe, you looked a little pasty in the parking lot."

"I'm fine," Max grumbled, "just need to sleep the ick off."

"Alright, I'll let you sleep," he could almost see Vince shrugging, had gotten well acquainted with it in the past three days, "save my number and you can text if you need anything. Really, uh- Your house is on the way, just holler." It wasn't, Max had dropped Vince and that friend of his at Monacelli's little house once, their places were close but Vin's was in the opposite direction of traffic.

"Thanks, dude."

"No problem," Vince's voice went up a note, all cheerful, "feel better!"

Max nodded, then realized the man couldn't see him, so he cleared his throat and grumbled, "yeah, thanks" before hanging up quickly. He let the phone fall back on his chest, then let out a sigh.

He was falling for the guy, that was great.

[archie-sunshine]

ARCHIE-SUNSHINE'S FAQ!

Hi!! I'm putting this together as a quick helpful post to clear stuff up regarding my inbox, because I've been getting a lot of similar questions and I want to be able to tap a sign to let people know what they gotta know without putting in so much effort!

So, here's my FAQ for my inbox!

1: What drawing software/hardware do you use? Are you a traditional only artist?

I use clip studio paint and an ancient wacom tablet that's been chugging since 2018 :] And I also do traditional art, specifically as a way to pass the time in my college classes! my preferred drawing pens are a the 0.5 POLOP Fruits Clip, the Tombow Fudenosuke Brush pen, and the Pigma MICRON Plastic Nib, and i colour with ZEBRA mildliner highlighters!

2: Is your Inbox getting my message?

Yes it is! I just usually have around 100 other asks in my inbox that im also working through!! If your ask was super nonspecific as well, I might have deleted it because I didn't know where to start!

3. Are you taking commissions?

I open commissions typically once a month to once every other month!

4. What are your thoughts on [Insert TFP character here]/why don't you like tfp

I don't have any because I only watched half a season of that show and got bored to death! and i dislike the show because the pacing is weird, the writing is sub par, the characters bore me to death save for a few notable exceptions, the music is boring, the designs are weird and complicated, and every attempt at comedy falls flat. aka, its just not my cup of tea!

Additionally, over the year I've been posting on this blog, I have been asked at least once every single month for an answer to this question, and it hasn't changed and people still don't read my faq. and suspiciously after three of those times, my blog has been mysteriously pixelated.

... I'm not saying anyone reported me. But im not not saying that.

So thats another reason i don't like tfp.

5. Will you draw/What are your thoughts on MPREG/MECHPREG

I don't like pregnancy when it involves a fetus, though I do enjoy dirty talk and scenarios surrounding breeding! I do enjoy oviposition/egg laying, but I prefer it as part of a monster fucking scenario.

6. What would you think [insert character/pairing here]'s kids would look like/what would [insert character] look like as a kid/do you think [insert couple here] would be great parents?

I don't like talking about kids or children!! and I don't like talking about couples as parents in general!

7. Can i make fanworks of your ocs/AU/fics/art?

YES!! YESYESYES ABSOLUTELY PRETTY PLEASE YES ALWAYS AND FOREVER! All i ask is that you tag me or send me the link to wherever youve posted this, feel free to gift me stuff on ao3 if you like as well, genuinely nothing brings me more joy than inspiring other people so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free!!

8. What are your limits for commissions?

I drew up a helpful little chart for it! anything not on here, you can dm or ask me about!

[flagellant]

Some of the asks you're receiving are giving me worrying flashbacks to being the only kid in my class arguing that dropping the atom bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was wrong. I hope someone has studied the 'the more unconscionable an empire's actions the harder its people are taught to defend them' effect because it is a doozy. I am also concerned with how many people are not thinking twice before sending messages saying, essentially, 'You're exaggerating the cruelty of the US's occupation of another sovereign nation!' to....a member of an occupied sovereign Indigenous nation. I hope they're not weighing on you too much or dampening your enthusiasm for this project. I am really enjoying your research sauga, thank you for sharing it with us!

Thank you for this ask. I can't honestly pretend that all of this very much has been weighing on me. It's frustrating on a lot of levels but more than that it just kinda sucks and hurts. Especially as someone who is literally Indigenous and doesn't have dark skin? It's a constant battle of trying to not need to prove I'm Native enough versus having to fight for the recognition that I am my culture and I'm not just fucking racefaking, versus the fear that trying to be more visibly Native would just make me look like a racist caricature even though the whole reason I feel that impulse is because to non-Indigenous people, they see Native Americans as a single monolithic caricature and culture. I can't be native because I don't look like the noble savage in their heads. Don't pay attention to history, there clearly has never been a situation where perhaps Natives on the whole got more and more lighter skinned as generations went on. And there's definitely never been any reason for the American government to have extreme incentive in making sure Natives got bred out of the gene pool.

And none of this is actually directly relevant to the pressure, but it's informing how I'm approaching the research, as someone who can empathize with cultural erasure at the hands of fucking taibo, and I think that no matter what, conspiracy or not, cover-up or not, I think that it is incredibly important that more people in the world are aware that leading into the Cold War, Japan was forcibly coerced into giving total power over a significant cultural touchstone/ingredient/way of life to a single foreigner who had a complete lack of respect for what shoyu is, even going so far as to say "I want to change Japan's taste preferences". I cannot imagine a more direct and blunt parallel to settler-colonialism mindset. I truly cannot.

So to be consistently challenged--despite having either corrected or adapted mistakes/misinformation, or on some occasions actually proving that what I am claiming is not a mistake and it was like this--is kind of pinging a bunch of radars. Even beyond the pressure to perform for the sheer volume of interest--I'm used to that, I've not been exactly an unknown figure on this hellsite--there's a pressure to be perfect. To be immediate. I need to give the people the true answers and the end of the story three days ago; I need to give updates; I need to consider whether or not I want to be interviewed by Tech Crunch; I need to do everything except be allowed to let the natural timeline of research actually be its natural timeline.

I can't continue a large portion of research without having received responses back from government bureaus, from research archives, from college professors, from genetic biologisists, from horticulturists, from historians, from translators I'm paying with the money being sent about this project, from the genealogists and archivists and librarians who are also part of it...the list goes on. I can't make official entities of bureaucracy answer me quicker. It just doesn't work like that in real life--but for some unfathomable reason, Tumblr isn't treating what I'm doing like real life. They're treating it like an ARG.

So I suppose all this is to say I'm seriously having to consider going mostly offline for this holiday season. And I'm almost definitely going to try and avoid this project as much as I can during winter break; it's not like I'll be making quick progress anyway, since half of the academic sources I've contacted are already out for winter.

I hope that all of you understand that, for the most part, it's not you all as a group which is so upsetting and frustrating and draining and worrisome. For the most part it is individual responses from individual people, with a background radiation of eyes and pressure and selfishness on top of it, the natural state of existence for being in the spotlight at any given time. And I hope at the same time all of you understand how incredibly grateful, and touched, and honored, and excited I am that so many others are ALSO excited about this project. That all of you are just as eager to get to the bottom of whatever this ends up being as I am. The fact that people are willing to pay attention, even if only for a little while, to someone whose country is being occupied by foreign invaders investigating and finding the truth about what was happening during a different occupation with the same invaders. I think what is being done here is important work. And I'm glad that all of you do as well.

Without your generosity I would not have been able to even remotely gather the strength to push this for the long haul. And I do mean that literally. I started this project with less than $50USD in my bank account and today this is the first time I've ever had more than about $750 to my name. It's not much in the long run but I'm just so used to having nothing to spare that having any feels like the height of luxury. I bought myself a chai frappe today because I was waiting for a meeting to start. And I didn't hardly feel guilty. I can't tell all of you how emotional that made me, but if you've ever had rough times, I'm sure I don't need to.

Thank you all. I'm really excited to see where we go from here.

[cramathonn]

Masterpost

Status: CLOSED!

Hello, dear stranger on Tumblr. You may call me Cramathonn or Cram. I am just a silly guy who wants to write about his favorite characters casually, accepting requests every now and again. I prefer to be referred to with he/they/it pronouns, eventually the neos bomb/bombself.

Instead of sharing the fandoms of which I will most likely write/yap about, I will share the characters in specific, for I find it easier and less stressful for myself. That way, I won't feel obligated to write for charactes I'm not that interested in.

I will write for gender neutral and male readers only. However, when requesting nsfw scenarios, please do specify if the reader is afab or amab, solely for clarification and to make my writing experience easier. If not specified, I shall try my utmost to make it as generalized as possible.

However, if you desire to see some of my art, please go back to the main blog, @cram-cram ! I have recently wiped its history so uhhh yeah. An archive blog is tagged on the intro post if you wanna see my old stuff tho!

Without further ado, back to this blog and the info about what I write:

Green means go

★Fluff, angst and NSFW are all game

★Gore is on the table (be aware for my gore writing is VERY explicit)

★In NSFW content, majority of kinks are ok, the ones I won't do will be specified later

★Platonic and romantic scenarios

★Poly relationships!

★Monster x human

★Heavy subjects such as abuse and mental health (all with their due care and respect)

Red means stop

† Dubcon and noncon are a no go

† Watersports and age regression are a red in NSFW (if more surface, they will be added here)

† Very big age gaps! No thank you!

† Incest (not even stepcest)

† Character x character (more of a "don't feel like it" type of thing)

As for writing styles, you might get a drabble, a headcanon or a one shot. It all depends on my mood and how packed that week/day is for me. Please be aware that I am a college student and have a job, so I will be very very slow with publishing stuff.

Sensitive subjects will be properly tagged, so please pay attention as to not trigger yourself.

Now, finally, the list of characters I am currently obsessed with and desperately want to write about/read about. The sources to which they belong to will be in parentheses.

The menu

Billy Kid (ZZZ)

Anton Ivanov (ZZZ)

Grace Howard (ZZZ)

Alexandrina Sebastiane (ZZZ)

Seth Lowell (ZZZ)

Qingyi (ZZZ)

Piper (ZZZ)

Pompey (ZZZ)

Lighter (ZZZ)

Kafka Hibino (KN8)

Reno Ichikawa (KN8)

Iharu Furuhashi (KN8)

Meursault (Limbus Company)

Heathcliff (Limbus Company)

Gregor (Limbus Company)

Rodion (Limbus Company)

Outis (Limbus Company)

Welt Yang (HSR)

Kafka (HSR)

Gallagher (HSR)

Kuro Kiryu (ES)

Rinne Amagi (ES)

Scar (Wuthering Waves)

Yuanwu (Wuthering Waves)

Yinlin (Wuthering Waves)

Please keep in mind that I haven't met Yuanwu in the story yet and that I haven't finished the main story of Wuthering Waves! So those two characters are the ones I am least familiar with.

These are the characters for now. This list will be constantly updated, with additions and removals always being a possibility, so please do keep an eye out! If you want to check if I write for a character, don't be afraid to ask! I tend to be rather forgetful, so ask away.

If you simply want my take on a headcanon you have about one of the aforementioned characters, please do send them! I love debating about headcanons and sharing my thoughts (I am a yapper at heart)

There will be no masterlist! However, the posts will be tagged by fandom, characters and writing style. So, if you came looking for specifics, clicking on my profile and using the desired tag should filter everything properly!

As to differ random yaps from requests, here are the following tags you should look for:

#yappingdemon → for headcanon debates and just me being absolutely deranged/insane about something (mainly a character or game)

#storytellerdemon → for actual writing, be it headcanons, scenarios, drabbles or oneshots

This masterpost will be tagged as both yappingdemon and storytellerdemon, to mark the beginning of both categories in the blog.

Thank you for your attention and for considering requesting from this blog in the first place! Yapping request shall always be open, however request status will be updated both here and in random posts, so please do keep an eye out.

I wish you a pleasant timezone

- Anxious Demon

[kunimilktea]

This picture of kori in the last post is sending me

She looks so silly dkkskskdkd.

Speaking of kori (also hey I had an mc called cori that's cool!) when do her and cove get together? Is it in the step 2 epilogue with the confession or during the charity confession?

Also unrelated to Kori but what do you mind going more into depth on your thoughts for both Derek and Baxter dlcs? I love discussions around their dlcs I wish people would genuinely talk more about itz going into depth into the themes of the dlcs and how they affect Derek and Baxter as characters, but then again I'm someone who loves analyzing the media they consume so djdkdkjd. General discussions about these things drive me crazy (I think is worth mentioning that I'm autistic so djdkdk)

Your art is also very lovely I loved watching your doodles, you're one of the artists I always look forward to to get a notification from 🫶

THATS ALOT OF QUESTIONS YOU GOT THERE BUDDY,,,,

Im kidding tho it's appreciated nonetheless ^_^

SO FIRST OF ALL THANKS FOR LIKING MY ART 🥹🥹🥹 i try my best to make time for drawing my silly our life doodles despite being busy in college and i appreciate anyone who rlly enjoys my dumb doodles of my ol mc shenanigans

Answering the confession question, they confess at the end of step 3 cause i thought the slowburn was fun 😇

I actually drew their first kiss right here

Now with the derek and baxter dlc question,,,

So fun fact! With how i played the the dlcs over all me and my friend Lo (@/oiulse) would choose which boy to play the dlc and stream it on call, so Lo picked Baxter and i took Derek, it was really funny cause casual constantly played in our heads during the Baxter dlc (bless lo btw for gifting me both dlcs labyu oomf 🫰)

With how i feel with BOTH dlcs

For my boy Derek Suarez

When i played the first moment from dereks dlc my voice started like acting up from how long THAT specific moment was, maybe its just me but the first moment in particular felt really long, I get it though its the first time ur meeting the suarez family and in no way did i NOT enjoy it, but there were indeed moments where im like DAMN ITS STILL NOT OVER cause of how tired my voice was getting LMFAO, all the other moments were rlly fun my favorite one from the dlc was where u hang out with liz on daddy day and there was an option to gift a card to cliff 🥹, his step 4 was also a bunch of fun i loved the family bonding get to do with the suarez brothers (u can just tell that i love family aus) and getting to hang out with derek made me love him more as a chr, HIS STEP 4 VOICE IS STILL A JUMPSCARE TO ME FROM HOW DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT IT IS (no hate to the va btw) STILL VERY FUNNY THOUGH HAHAHA, i made it so that Derek, kori and cove get to be neighbors before the both of them get married so now they hang out LOTS

With THE Baxter FUCKING Alexander Ward

I heard from another friend that the baxter's dlc was gonna be angsty and i was like oh hell fuckin yeah i love angst! AND THERE CERTAINLY WAS ANGST ILL TELL U THAT MUCH, since i was watching lo play through the Baxter dlc i will admit there were a few times where i spaced out cause ANOTHER fun fact, we played the dlcs like really late on my timezone so i was either drawing while Lo was playing or i was in the brink of conking the fuck out, i was able to know what was going on overall i think the ONLY moment i like fully spaced out on was when the mc and baxter were like out drinking or smth and there was this entire thing with the bartender and the singer, that specific scene in particular i was fully focusing on smth else and it wasnt till later that when i played the baxter dlc for myself that i knew what was finally going on, since me and lo have our castaways au to think abt while playing these dlcs we were building aus upon aus of what lo's mc would do when meeting with baxter again after 5 years its fun lo has never been the same since and neither have i, the angst was good soup and i can see why baxter's dlc was more expensive than derek's LMFAO

But ironically enough the dlc that made me cry was DEREKS DLC,,, that moment on the step 4 epilogue with the brothers having a heart to heart is going to be MY ROMAN EMPIRE, I FUCKING LOVE FAMILIES BRO GAUGHHHH

Anyways sorry that was unnecessarily long i could have organized my thoughts more but i dont have the patience for that so i hope u dont mind that all my thoughts and feelings were all over the place hahaha

In conclusion the dlcs was a nice content buffet 👍

[delopsia]

strawberry delly (get it) 🍓🫙 not to be inspired by your current storm situation—between the tornado warning and your hand, i hope you’re okay—but what about the hawthorn trio being stuck in wabang due to a big storm rolling through? 👀💕

they all knew it was coming; had almost canceled on cecilia because of it, but then felt bad because they’d just canceled on her easter invitation a few months earlier—and then rhett’s mother’s day present got lost in the mail because trying to send large packages through to wabang, wyoming was an absolute lost cause…

she was thrilled to see you all, promising that you’d be long gone before the sky could open, but nature had other plans.

the treacherous wind and rain left amy at a happily stranded at a friend’s house, perry out who knows where, and the hawthorn trio in the perfect conditions to give their beloved cowboy a sleepover experience he never knew he’d missed out on—and one he’d never forget!

telling scary stories, a movie marathon, sneaking downstairs for snacks, staying up late—how do you think the night went?

💐

strawberry delly 😭🍓 I've got a funny-looking scar from the spider bite, but I'm okay 💐 That storm didn't even do anything scary in the end; the wind just howled the whole time and displaced our decorative pillow 😒

The way that there are three of them, but not one person thinks to check Wabang's weather forecast beforehand. Between the chaos of hunting down an identical gift, arranging their plans, and the general mayhem that comes with traveling, it just entirely slips their mind.

Bob thinks he's being funny when he jokes that a storm is going to strand them in Wabang and then flounders when Rhett later says that one is coming 😭 He's convinced that it's just Rhett joking, but Rhett just shrugs and says that his knee is hurting, and that only happens when a big storm is coming.

Cecelia's so enthused with her new dinnerware sets (whaddaya know, the mailman delivered the missing box an hour after everyone arrived 🙄) that she hardly pays much attention to the oncoming clouds. Perry is so unbothered that he's off to spend the weekend with a few buddies from college.

Royal and Rhett? They know exactly what's coming. Wabang's already infamous for its weird weather. Violent, unexpected thunderstorms, random snow in July, a hailstorm without a single cloud in the sky, just to name a few.

But that doesn't stop them from heading out onto the porch with Bobby in tow, sitting in the rocking chairs and watching the storm roll in. At first, you'd thought they left to go to the store without telling you, but then Cecelia chimed that, "Those damn men are on the porch again."

Some things are both hereditary and contagious. Watching dangerous weather roll in is apparently one of those things. You didn't think it was going to be all that much, but at some point, the rain is coming down so quickly that you can't see the barn anymore. And it just. Doesn't. Stop.

You can't even find the car in the driveway, nevermind navigate the rapidly flooding roads without winding up in a ditch. Nobody needs to ask what you three are going to do. Mother Nature already decided. You're spending the night.

The fun doesn't start until the clock rolls over to nine-thirty. Royal and Cecelia have a sleeping schedule, and they do not deviate from it.

The moment their bedroom door shuts, the air in the living room changes. Maybe that's because it's the first time you've been left alone since you arrived, or maybe...maybe it's because Rhett's eyes are sparkling like that of a kid in a candy store.

"Y'know what this feels like?" Speaking through that dumb grin that's sprawling across his face.

Bob hums. "What?"

"Sleepover."

Cecelia's new couch is just big enough for you three to squeeze into; the internet in Wabang is so bad that things like Netflix aren't an option, but Perry has a concerning collection of horror DVDs that suffice. Bobby thinks he's not going to be bothered by it, but he's fighting you for space on Rhett's chest before the first movie is even over.

The only reason Rhett's not bugged is because Perry used to try to scare him with these movies when he was little. He's practically immune to the genre. And maybe some of the scenes would at least spook him if he weren't more focused on you and Bobby using this as an opportunity to snuggle him.

Rhett thinks he's hilarious when he blames an obscure noise on "one of those house ghosts." Now, Bob is hesitant to head into the dimly lit bathroom by himself.

Cecelia thinks she's even funnier when she walks up behind the couch and scares the hell out of all three of you, laughs so hard that she nearly drops her glass of water.

Rhett loses his shirt when he heads out to the car to get the snacks out of the backseat, winds up so focused on his white cheddar popcorn that he fails to notice you and Bobby staring at the water running down his big chest. Even when you grab him by the hand and haul him up to his bedroom, he's clueless. He doesn't figure it out until Bob grabs a greedy handful of his chest. Then, it clicks.

You guys wind up having to stay another day because not one of you gets a bit of sleep before the sun rises. But that just means you get to have one more night in Wabang 👀🌧

[ad-hawkeye]

Visual Novel and Otome Recommendations for the Discerning Artem Enjoyer

So, recently, I've been playing a few other otome games. And you know what? I've had to sludge through a lot of crap! It literally took me months to be able to compile a list of four games I feel confident recommending.

Also, each of these games have an aspect that might appeal to Artem fans, especially a-spec ones. Of course, your mileage may vary, but here are my recommendations.

C14 Dating: You're a college student participating in an archeological internship. The game includes friendship routes as well as romance ones. It's very chill and laid back! I have played through all of the routes and enjoyed them greatly. Though, I am specifically recommending this game for one character - Hendrik, a young geologist who is a TA at the dig site. He is canonically asexual, and is the only character of his kind that I've encountered in a dating sim. The subject matter is also handled very well. This game was actually recommended to me by an anon, and I thank them so very much for it!

Trouble Comes Twice: Adrian. That's all. I'm kidding. Unless? But for real, he feels like if you took Artem Wing, but put him in the childhood friend role. It works so well. I am being entirely serious. Sexualities aren't usually outright stated as most of the characters are bisexual, but in Hazel's Adrian route, Adrian explicitly mentions never having had romantic or sexual feelings before. And Hazel is very chill about it. Which makes Adrian canonically a-spec to me! As for the protagonists, Jace and Hazel, they're an acquired taste, but they get much better as the plot goes on. The game is also a little short, but I enjoyed it very much!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always: Part of me regrets playing this game because now I will never get the chance to play it for the first time again. It is so fucking good. The amount of customization is unreal and unmatched. Cove is a wonderful love interest, and honestly? He might even beat Artem in the blushy boy department. He's also canonically demisexual and embodies the "me and the bad bitch I pulled by being autistic" meme. And on top of this, the game is free. DLC (which includes more memories and two additional love interests) is also extremely cheap, and the price of it all combined is still a lot cheaper than most games.

Lovebrush Chronicles: Definitely the closest to Tears of Themis in terms of it being an otome gacha that finally got its global release back in October. Artem fans tend to be drawn to Clarence and Alkaid, but will find reason to also like Ayn and Lars. For instance, I love all of them. Please send help. The game's localization is excellent and makes the love interests feel more human. The game also has no qualms about making fun of its own characters, and the MC will frequently have the chance to lovingly bully the boys. Speaking of the MC - she is incredible and I love her. She takes no shit and is the only otome MC that has made me think, "yeah, I would definitely say that too," and I love her for it.

[jayzioxx]

I reblog things more than I actually post someting so here's a lil something

Conglomerate!Kazuha and average joe office worker!reader;

First met when [name] was in 1st grade.

[Name] was anxious about his first day of school, and in his little mind, among all those other kids, he was the only one who felt that way!

[Name] didn't exactly go to pre school, it wasn't a legal requirement, so his parents didn't see a reason to send their child to education so early and spent the first few years of [name]'s life making memories with just the three of them.

[Name] wanted to cry when he saw his mummy waving at him with a smile on her face, but he promised her he would have fun at school and a big boy doesn't break promises! So he held back the tears threatening to fall down his chubby little cheeks.

[Name] looked around, trying to find someone to talk to, but everyone already seemed acquainted with each other... Would they be mad if he bothered them? He didn't want to take chances, he'll just figure out the school thing himself! It won't be that hard, right? School was, in fact, not fun. Everyone had friends and seemed to fit in, and [name] was the odd one out. An acorn in a bowl of dog food, a duck among swans, whatever. He missed hiking with his parents and exploring old (publicly available and safe) ruins within the woods (sectioned under the community park).

As lunch time rolled around, everyone ran to play with their friends, and [name] didn't want to stay cooped up inside the classroom either, so he, too, begrudgingly walked outside to at least stare at nothing.

When [name] looked around for a quiet place to sit, a huge tree in the corner of the grass field caught his eye. He ran over to that perfect place he spotted, but as he got close, he noticed another boy, laying down on the grass and observing the sky.

[Name] turned around to quietly leave before the other boy spoke. "Do you want to sit with me?"

[Name] didn't say anything and just looked at the other boy, slightly intimidated. He seemed older. He wanted to say,'It's fine, I won't bother you' but instead blurted out, "Which grade are you in?" filled with embarrassment, he slapped his hands over his face, almost expecting the other boy to be angry, but instead, he just laughed.

"I'm in second grade. Is this your first day?" [Name] nodded and stayed silent.

"If you're alone right now, you can sit next to me. I'm also alone." The older boy said, and feeling a bit more comfortable, [name] sat next to the him.

"What's your name?" He asked from his new found friend. "Kaedehara Kazuha."

It was only in third grade, did [name] find out that Kazuha was in fact not a loner like him, and was very popular.

Went to the same secondary school too.

The hardest year for [name] was his last year of primary school. It's not like he didn't have any friends, but still, his first friend had already finished primary and transferred to another school.

When he finally finished that long year of school and transferred, he was scared. What if he had already found new friends? What if he didn't want to talk with him anymore?

Any thoughts that bothered him quickly vanished as a blonde haired boy came barreling towards him, trapping him in a hug.

"Hello!"

Had to part ways before Kazuha finished secondary school.

At some point, Kazuha just stopped showing up at school, or the library, or the park. It was like he vanished. [Name] tries contacting him, but every time the phone only spoke in its robotic voice,'the number you have dialed is not in service.'

Years passed, and [name] ended up in college. Not a prestigious university or anything, just a community college, got a half decent job with a half decent salary, and continued to stay in the same monotonous office just because the job market was too competitive to find a better job. By then, Kazuha was just a distant memory from a happy childhood.

Met after a team dinner.

[Name] was so dizzy by the time he reached the toilets, barely able to keep himself from puking all over his clothes, but hey! Just because the team leader forced him to drink till dead doesn't mean he should die before washing the damn stench off his clothes. It's not like clothing was getting any cheaper....

[Name], with all the strength he had, kept himself from face planting anywhere till he got to the sink, splashing the cold, surely dirty tap water onto his heated face.

"Fuck this..." was all he could say. Not like he could quit. Or call HR, or beat his loser of a boss dead. He still needed the paycheck and the job.

Every step he took felt like an iron ball was chained to his ankle, oh he was drunk alright. So so drunk and so so annoyed.

He somehow made it out of the crappy restaurant and decided that was enough before letting his jelly legs collapse. Maybe the pavement would be comfortable.

He shut his eyes, expecting to fall face first onto the concrete, yet a strong but slender arm stopping him from toppling over completely.

[Name] turned his head with widened eyes, the face he saw between his hazy vision was all too familiar, yet distant at the same time.

"Am I hallucinating?"

Took a while to get more comfortable with each other.

"You up?" A strangely familiar voice asked as [name] rubbed his temples, barely opening his eyes from the headache crashing into his head.

The smell of coffee radiated throughout the unfamiliar, comfortable room.

"I made you some coffee." The other person said, and only then did [name] snap back into reality. He was in an unknown person's house, in an unknown person's bed, wearing an unknown person's clothes, just the morning after he was drunk to his limits.

"What the hell happened..." he spoke, almost to the stranger, but mostly to himself. He dreamt about seeing the face of an old friend.

"At least look at my face." The man spoke again, and when [name] did look, he didn't think he'd forgive the other one again.

(They did nothing freaks)

Had their ups and downs.

It's been almost a year since [name] reunited with his old friend. A year since Kazuha did everything he could to at least hang out with [name] a bit more. His younger friend was a bit more rough, a bit more ill spoken, and a bit more pessimistic than he remembered. But gosh, was he beautiful.

But when he gets angry... I guess rage is also a beauty?

"And WHEN exactly were you going to tell me?!" [Name] kept a tight pincer grasp on Kazuha's ear as he let out a series of 'ow's.

"Soon-" Kazuha tried to weasle his way out of [name]'s grasp but was cut of swiftly.

"Yeah, and exactly how 'soon' were you going to tell me you partnered with my company's boss, specifically requested creative team B for a task specifically catered to have me work at your company?"

"Soon-! Hey that hurts!" Kazuha complained, trying to put on his best puppy eyes, but alas, it is useless.

"Right, and I'm Elon Musk, your point?" [Name] sighed and continued. "If I didn't accidentally turn to the wrong office I wouldn't have known that was your company in the first place." He raised a brow, finally releasing Kazuha's red ear.

"I can't even get mad at you because you're cute... You're abusing your power..." Kazuha pouted, rubbing his ear.

"YOU'RE the one abusing power here!"

And never confessed to each other either.

Kazuha barged into [name]'s room. The ivory walls and wooden shelves were decorated with a few photos and trinkets to the younger man's liking.

"There's a thing called knocking?" [Name] sassed as he went through a work document before he could hit submit. It's been about a week since [name] moved into Kazuha's apartment (against his will), and Kazuha made it his personal goal to invade [name]'s privacy every few hours with drinks and snacks.

Kazuha placed the mug of coffee on the table as he pressed a quick kiss on the other's cheek before grabbing another chair and sitting beside him.

[Name] suddenly paused his work and took off his reading glasses, placing them on the table. Kazuha, confused, didn't inquire but sightly tilted his head, quite like a bird.

"What are we?" [Name] asked.

"What do you want us to be?"

But still, they love each other.

A/n I'm too lazy to type out the individual headcanons rn. Maybe I'll do a part 2 if yall want me to...

Yeah anyways cringe culture is back and I'm pulling kdrama ceo x poor man gay homosexual uwu fanfiction out my ass. Yay.This one specifically was inspired by every kdrama I've watched and every manhwa I've read