#there is a big difference between backing themselves into a corner and making it clearer what they've been setting up this whole time

[gayofthefae]

Posting a lot about this in a row but reminder that writing does not go “this is what happens how will it end”, it goes “this is what happens how did we get there” - the opposite order we figure it out in as viewers. So the ending will not be comprehensive. With good writing, if only one thing is going to be comprehensive and nothing else, it will be the ending. Think shows that are cancelled but have time to quickly wrap up. It feels a little crammed but they can do that because they already knew all the points they were gonna hit. I think of Timeless, which was cancelled but through the diary found a way to tell us all their future plans. Glee did they same by having Rachel talk about her plans.

More often than not, writers know the plot of their own show, believe it or not. Also, Stranger Things is not a cable tv show that goes one episode per week. They have been based in season overarching storylines from the start - proving the writers know how to make one. It is just astounding to me how many people still believe that writers don’t plan things and write in the same order we see plots.

Even my hypothetical situations as I fall asleep have only a start and end point and I fill in the middle. That’s just how it works.

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 9

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Let’s fuck things up a bit, shall we?

She woke up peacefully, the soft warmth of the early sun washing over her naked body tangled in the bedsheets. As she stretched her limbs, she found herself to be alone in bed, lazily reaching for her glasses on the nightstand nearby only so she could have a clearer view of her surroundings. Donnie was nowhere to be seen, Vee taking this moment to sit in bed, envelopping her form in the sheets and just think about last night's events. What would that make out of them? No real declarations of any sorts had been made, but the feelings were there and real, that she couldn't deny. Sure, it wasn't the first time she had slept with someone without any real attachment, but never had she felt that way with someone before... Donnie was a tender and very attentive man. She had that feeling that whatever he'd say or do, it must be true to him. She wanted to believe he would wish for them to be more... But for now she laid her expectations to rest and simply reveled in whatever was happening between them. She felt good. She felt appreciated. And, to be frank, the sex had been amazing.

She heard footsteps approaching the room, along a rolling sound. The mutant soon came in view, accompanied by a small trolley that held two plates with food, empty mugs and a pot of coffee. He was only wearing black boxer briefs and his glasses, his whole self a delectable sight. As he noticed that the woman was awake, he playfully struck a little pose while saying:

“Breakfast in bed for madame.”

That brought a soft giggle from Vee, though touched by this attention given to her. Instead of handing a plate, Donnie moved to sit by the woman's side in bed, unable to resist cupping one of her cheeks, his thumb tenderly brushing her skin. His eyes kept scanning her, his joy blooming at the mere sight of her smile.

“… Can't believe there's such a beautiful woman in my bed this morning,” he softly said.

“Can't believe such a sexy man is bringing me breakfast in bed,” replied Vee.

“I can bring more than that.”

Remnants of last night's emotions still brought some sparks in the air, Donnie's motion fluid and met halfway by Vee. It was sweet and slow, a kiss that felt like a dream. As it kept going, the terrapin started to shift his position and Vee's; soon the covers out of the way and Donnie's frame over the woman, forever careful not to be too much of a weight. They couldn't let go of one another, this morning's laziness bringing each motions to a tender point. As the terrapin was kissing at the woman's neck, she did add in a soft tone:

“What about breakfast? It's gonna get cold, just like the food last night...”

“I don't mind cooking another one later. … I'd cook one for you everyday even.”

That brought a hushed chuckle out of Vee, but deep down she was touched by that small confession. The simplicity and tenderness of this moment brought such ease in her.

“Donnie, I-...”

She stopped herself, knowing exactly what her heart wanted to say, but knowing now was not the time. Their gaze crossed, Donnie patient and Vee trying to find the right words to say next.

“... I’m so happy right now. Being with you feels so nice,” she ended.

“It does feel nice, indeed,” first replied the terrapin in a sweet tone. “... I could spend the rest of my life like this.”

Vee felt speechless, trying her best to read his emotions. He did sound sincere, but maybe it was this honeymoon type of feeling that was talking as well.... In any case, she prefered to kiss him in answer, knowing she did think the same as well. It was much preferable to live in this present moment, rather than worry in speculations.... At least, only for this morning.

***

That Monday morning was as grey and rainy as it could get, the usual omen for a bad day and week to come, but in Vee’s mind and heart, it was as sunny as it could ever be. Her work started with the usual routine; reviewing the projects for the day and then handing the paperwork. Her step around the office was light, humming some tunes to herself as she distributed the documents among her team.

“You look awfully happy for a Monday morning,” started one of her coworker’s voice, a guy.

That broke her stride, turning around to the source. She noticed a small handful of employees grouped together, probably discussing first amongst themselves until they saw their manager. Vee recognized the man who had spoken, already going through her papers as she walked towards the small group.

“I had a nice weekend, that’s all,” she answered, handing him the work.

“What, you buttered up the boss enough for you to get a raise?” said the other, reluctantly taking his due.

Vee instantly frowned: “... Excuse me?”

“We saw you leave with that Donatello, Friday evening,” added another coworker, a woman. “You’re not fooling anyone. It’s been quite some time that you both have been hanging together.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s any of your concerns,” said Vee. “We’re friends, I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

“Yah, sure, friends with benefits perhaps,” continued another person. “Soon you’ll benefit from a monetary gain while he benefits from your tits. Workplace logic.”

Vee was disgusted, knowing if she continued to argue, she’d make things worse: “I don’t know what’s wrong with you all, but you better mind your damn business.”

As she was walking away, she heard that last jab: “If I buy you a drink, will you give me a raise?” She did not stop, her step slightly getting faster instead. Her blood was boiling, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. At once, she wished she could simply disappear... Turning a corner, she abruptly bumped into someone, her remaining folders flying out of her hands and spilling to the floor. She felt strong hands hold her forearms, forbidding her to fall backward

“Woah there, easy. Are you alright?”

She met baby blue eyes surrounded by orange, quickly recognizing the presence as another one of her bosses: Michelangelo. She quickly nodded, trying to get a hold of her senses once more. Her eyes next scanned the floor, letting out a big sigh as she noticed the mess.

“Damn... I’m sorry,” she started. “I should’ve looked where I was going...”

“Nah, it’s fine,” smile the orange clad terrapin. “Next time I’ll be careful not to be on your war path!”

Both were already crouching down to pick up the fallen papers, Vee feeling so absent-minded by this meaningless task. All she wanted to do was to run away, to be quite frank. As Michelangelo handed her the last files, he did inquire again: “... You sure you’re alright?”

Vee faked a small smile, quick to dismiss his concern.

“Yes, I’m okay. No worries. Have a nice day, sir.”

As she got back on the move, her distress did not escape the mutant, although he did not try to push his questionning any further.

***

“What’s up, D, my man?”

Donnie paused his writing, glancing up towards his office’s entry. He saw Mikey standing there, the purple clad mutant huffing lightly as he then continued his task.

“I’m busy, Mikey.”

“You’re always busy, so any time to poke you is as good as any.”

The tall one rolled his eyes, although he did smile a little. He quickly gestured for his brother to come in.

“What’s up?” he asked as the other was taking a seat.

“Meh, I dunno man, just wanted to take some news from you,” shrugged Michelangelo. “You’ve been staying late a lot these days... How was your weekend?”

Donnie stopped writing once more, leaning back into his chair with a dreamy smile.

“It was hella nice.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Spent some time with a beautiful lady.”

“There yooouu gooo!” lightly laughed the youngest. “T’was about time you’d get some fun. Who is she?”

“Slow down, I’ll present her to you soon enough. ... We’re just taking some time to ourselves first, you know...”

Mikey was disappointed by the lack of details, but he did respect his brother’s choice: “Fair enough.” A thought came back to him, suddenly adding: “Oh, speaking of meeting ladies, before I got in here I bumped into one. I dunno what’s going on in the office, but she did look kinda distressed. ... She’s got nice green hair though! We don’t see lots of people with different hairstyles around here.”

Donnie slightly jumped in his chair as he heard the mention of ‘distress�� and then ‘green hair’. It had to be Vee.

“Where is she?” he instantly asked.

Mikey was surprised by his brother’s reaction, vaguely gesturing a direction.

“I, uh, I have no idea. Somewhere around those parts we don’t really have a use for.”

She must’ve went to the drawing room... Donatello did not waste any second, already on his feet and heading out.

“Sorry gotta go,” he quickly excused himself. “Talk to you later.”

Mikey didn’t even have time to place a word, still seated as he watched the other dart straight to a precise direction. “Oooookay...”

***

It didn’t take long for Donnie to reach the room in question, already hearing some quiet sobs when he was close to the entrance. As soon as he stepped in, he found Vee at one corner, by a table, her glasses removed as she tried to forbid tears to ruin her makeup. The woman jumped as she saw the terrapin’s form appear in, trying her best to gain a better posture and make herself more presentable as she put back on her glasses.

“Shit! D-Donnie, I-”

The turtle was already on the move, soon next to her and certainly preoccupied.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” tried to brush away Vee. “I’m not- ... fuck, I don’t want you to see me cry.”

“Don’t worry. Tell me what happened,” he asked again, his touch gentle as his thumb dried some faint trails on the woman’s cheek.

“It’s nothing,” she repeated. “I just heard some stuff I didn’t want to, that’s all. I’ll stop my bullshit soon enough and get back to work.”

Donnie tsked, not wasting any second to get a hold of her hips, barely giving any effort as he slightly lifted her up to sit on the table. At least now he wouldn’t need to lean down too much, his hands resting at her sides, on the table, now their eyes at the same level.

“Talk to me.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze long enough, a sigh escaping her first. ... It would be preferable to touch the subject anyway, before any rumors would start flowing around.

“I had some employees on my team this morning saying some ... stuff about us.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that makes it look as if I’m hanging out with you only so I can get a promotion or something like that to advance my career,” she added, her tone slightly harsh. She paused, trying to calm herself down quickly: “... Look, before you say anything, I want you to know that it’s not true. I’m not some kind of business leech that’ll try to flirt her way up. I work hard and-and- I do an honest job, and-”

“Don’t worry, I believe you,” cut Donnie gently, trying to have her look at him again.

When their gazes met, she did feel some relief.

“I don’t give a damn what they say,” he continued. “They don’t have the full details anyway, so their judgement is invalid.”

“I hope they don’t get all the details, I’d prefer to keep most of them to myself,” added Vee with some amusement.

“Me too,” he smiled.

He tried, and succeeded, to lift her morale by giving a sweet kiss on her lips. Vee couldn’t help bringing him into an embrace afterward, her arms resting around his neck. She wanted to stay like this forever... His strong arms around her were so reassuring.

“Don’t mind them,” softly said Donnie as he was nuzzling her hair. “There’s always gonna be some assholes everywhere we go...  The best thing we can do is stand up to them and stay true to ourselves, okay?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to stand up to them today,” mumbled the woman against his scales.

“Alright, I’ll do it then.”

Vee instantly frowned, backing up a bit to give him a stern look.

“Don’t you dare! I don’t want anymore troubles.”

The terrapin chuckled: “Don’t worry, you don’t have to say names. ... I’m just gonna teach them all a little lesson. ... There’s no place for rivalry and petty discourses regarding matters they have no involvement with.”

“If things turn to hell, I blame you.”

“Deal!” he winked.

***

Time was passing by and Vee was somehow getting more and more anxious about what Donnie would do in regards to her team...  She most certainly hoped he wouldn’t rub in the issue and ask the others to mind their own business. But at the same time she knew he could demonstrate tactfulness and would probably approach the matter at hand appropriately.

She first heard the squeak of small wheels, her attention shifting and soon noticing the terrapin walk in with a portable whiteboard. She groaned internally, tempted to melt on her chair and disappear under her desk...

Donnie attracted people’s attention by clearing his throat first, then adding: “Hi there! If you guys won’t mind, let’s have a talk.”

He removed the cap from an erasable pen he was holding, writing in big letters “TEAMWORK”. Vaguely gesturing the word, he started:

“What defines teamwork?”

Silence at first. At some point a woman shyly rose her hand, Donnie inviting her to speak:

“Please, don't be shy, no need to raise your hand. What do you have in mind?”

“Teamwork could be defined by good communication?”

“That's a good start, what else?” smiled the terrapin as he wrote “COMMUNICATION” on the whiteboard.

“Sharing the workload equally?” started another person.

“Efficiency!”

“Having a common goal.”

“Trust!”

Donnie lighted up at that word, circling it a couple of times for emphasis.

“Yes, trust!” he said. “Seeking a common end, resolving conflicts and frictions, having an open conversation about issues you might be experiencing in the workplace. All that trust you can put in your coworkers mirrors the trust you have in regards to their skills and abilities. A mutual trust is defined by a confidence between team members that each puts the best interest of the team ahead of individual priorities.”

“I guess it depends on the person and their position,” added in a guy.

Vee recognized him as the man who had first sparked the comments this morning. She tried to avoid his gaze, Donnie noticing the sudden tension.

“I suspect you have something on your mind,” started the terrapin calmly to the man. “What’s your name?”

“Ben.”

“What do you mean by ‘it depends on the person and their position’, Ben?”

The guy was obviously feeling some discomfort by being the center of interest.

“Well... when you see someone like, let’s say a manager, taking advantage of their position and time to advance themselves in the work place, it’s hard to put trust on them.”

Donnie clapsed his pen shut.

“Are those allegations founded? Have you spoken to that person and tried to see if that was actually the case? Miscommunication and misunderstanding can lead to a lack of trust, indeed.”

“When you see them hanging with higher ups, that kinda confirms some questioning,” continued Ben. “When she stays late at night and fraternizes with a boss, that does raise some concerns about the practices of this workplace.”

“There we go,” smiled Donnie, accentuating his words with a sharp point of his pen. “Now we’ve come to the source of your concern; first you mentionned a manager and now a ‘she’. Knowing there’s only one project manager for the creative team, I can suspect you have some concerns in regards to Véronique.”

“You’re just gonna defend her, why should we listen to you?” said the other.

“Because I’m not here to defend anyone,” shrugged the mutant. “I’m here to make you understand that you’re a team, and all its members shouldn’t feel afraid to speak to one another, instead of raising suspicions.” He gestured Vee, the woman only wanting to disappear. “Ever since Véronique started working here she has been spending countless hours in office to learn the ropes of this place and give the best of herself only so you can give the best of you all in return. I value her judgement and experience, and she has agreed, on her free will, to participate on a project I was personally struggling with. In return I have been helping her with her work, because that is how trust is built: by sharing the work-” he started to point the words on the board. “-being efficient, communicating, and having a common goal. ... And that’s something I want in this office, for its people to be open and help eachother - not because they feel they need to, but because they want to.”

That gave everyone a pause, somehow giving a feeling of accomplishment to the turtle.

“May that spark a friendship or not - when it does not involve this work environment and it’s out of office, it’s nothing to worry about afterward. ... Let that be food for thought.”

He looked a bit toward Vee’s position, giving her a quick wink. The woman did feel some relief by his speech, knowing he might have struck some chords here and there. She wasn’t fully convinced that everyone would be on that same line of thought, especially that Ben, but there was no denying that it would ease some tension somehow.

***

Vee had waited until work got back to a somewhat normal pace before she wrote that to the terrapin.

Her smile was tender, her fingers easily typing away.

Thinking about it also, today was one hell of a long and stressful Monday...

Probably one of the only good things today...

There it was again, that damn charm of his! She could feel the rush in her veins, remembering those moments with him. Frankly, she wanted more as well...

***

The following morning was as normal as it could get on a weekday, Donnie taking the opportunity to clean around his office. He was going through a filing cabinet, starting from the top drawer. Some papers did slip from his hold, the terrapin next crouching to get them off the floor. But at the same moment the entry door was harshly opened, a voice sternly calling his name. Donnie’s reaction was to jump straight back up, but that resulted in him hitting the top of his head on the previously opened drawer, getting a yelp out of him. He quickly diverted his gaze to the newcomer, rubbing his scales.

“Leo!” scolded the purple clad mutant as he saw his older brother. “The fuck?! Don’t you know how to knock or something?”

“We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“No time to explain, we’ve found them. We need to move right now before we lose their track again.”

Donnie instantly got serious as well, his posture straightening up.

“... Do we still have our backup gear in this building?” he asked.

“Yes,” confirmed the blue banded turtle. “Mikey and Raph are already aware as well. Get your stuff and we leave in fifteen minutes top.”

A simple nod in answer was good for Leonardo to get on the move again, leaving Donnie. There was no time to lose, the tall mutant rapidly tidying up his space before grabbing any personal items and exiting his office. His mind was running, thinking about what was to come. On his way he did notice Vee at her desk, somehow pausing only to bask into that view. At first she was focused on whatever she was working, but she did feel a gaze on her, her eyes lifting to meet Donnie. She first offered him a sweet smile, to which he briefly returned, then she saw him get back on the move - an expression of concern coloring his traits. That did confuse the woman, her eyes following his path and noticing that he was about to leave the building. She tried to shrug the feeling away, only telling herself that she’d poke him later about that...

((Part 10))

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

(Un)Wanted Part 3

Read on Ao3 

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

A child that sees demons in every dark corner is not a child that is wanted.

A child that cries and freezes and mumbles of terrible things is not a child that is wanted.

A child that jumps and startles and hisses is not a child that is wanted.

Unwanted things are purged from the Earth.

So Virgil runs.

In other words: Virgil is an outcast, ostracized and shunned for how he was born, forced to flee an angry mob only to stumble right into a fae garden.

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: Implied/Referenced torture, child abuse, and self-harm, nothing super explicit. Sympathetic Deceit and Remus. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks.

Word Count: 7,040

Words are fucking stupid if you ask Remus.

Mortals have no idea what they’re doing with them and half the time they just make shit up and expect everyone else to go along with it. They don’t know what words are supposed to mean and half the time they try and pin down something that can’t be made into a single word into one and it’s just a big mess. There is one exception.

 Feral.

 Remus isn’t quite sure what gave mortals this one stroke of genius but he’s grateful for it. Feral. Even the word sounds like chaos. Which is just Remus’s cup of snail intestines.

 Feral, or more accurately, going feral, is the closest thing a fae gets to absolute bat-shit. Which, in fairness, by mortal standards, isn’t that bat-shit. Oh, yeah, sure mortals don’t have nearly the firepower of the fae, but let’s be real, here folks, mortals perfected the clockwork of murder far better than any fae could hope to.

 Going feral means what little hold a fae has on this fucking stupid temporal plane is tenuous at best. It means that bits of their aura manifest in ways that quickly go beyond the pitiful visible spectrum that mortals can tolerate. It means shapes and colors and energies that aren’t meant to be seen by mortal eyes, all barely held together by a flexible container of mostly water. A body, if you prefer the un-fun definition.

 Going feral is the fine line between creation and destruction.

 Remus is the one who goes feral the most often, even though it’s not why you think. It’s not directly tied to emotion, not really. If it was, Patton would be going feral every two seconds. It’s not even tied to sheer raw power. As much as Remus hates to admit it, that’s probably Snakey, even if it is only through his role as Gatekeeper.

 No no no. It’s much worse than that.

 Sir Nerd-A-Lot was right when he said that each of their ‘rooms’ is a slightly different layer of reality, something mortals can’t understand because of the way they’re made in this world. Although Remus’s way of understanding it wasn’t some tender touching of hands or soft words of explanation.

 The rooms are different ways to see.

 L’s room is like a normal pair of glasses. Makes things sharper, easier to understand, clearer. Less ambiguity.

 J’s room is like looking through mist or fog. More gray areas, easier to twist the truth to what you want to see, easier to let your mind play tricks on you. Less easy to figure out exactly what’s going on.

 Patton’s room is like always being in that weird soft stage mortals always say they have when they’re really sleepy. Not tired, because of course not, words are stupid. Sleepy is soft yawns and smiles and too-long sleeves and adorable smiles that make Remus want to pinch their cheeks until they fall off. Tired is squinty eyes and muttered complaints and downing that mysterious brown liquid. Patton’s room is being sleepy, everything a little softer, sweet enough to make Remus’s teeth ache.

 His brother’s room is, uh, well. Remus really doesn’t know what makes his brother’s room that different from his when you get right down to it. It’s like…it’s like looking in two different mirrors. Princey’s room is like that mirror that always shows you what you’d like to see. It’s the one that makes your hair do whatever the fuck you want it to do or makes your eyes glimmer like whatever the fuck you want them to glimmer like. It’s dreamy and it’s whatever and Princey seems to like it. And yeah, okay, Remus isn’t too big to admit that his brother’s good at what he does, even if it’s a little boring for his taste.

 Remus’s room is like looking into a mirror and the mirror looking back into you.

 Remus doesn’t really give a shit about what mortals would rather tell themselves about what it is they really want or don’t want. He’s with Snakey on that one; mortals don’t really know what it is they want, and if they do, they rarely say it out loud. That’s okay. Remus can do that.

 Remus lurks in the darkness, where mortals would rather not look. He delights in the twisted little things that straggle across their brains. It’s so much more interesting, looking at the absolutely horrible things that drift through their little minds and how much it makes them squirm. He’ll never understand why they try so hard to pretend they don’t exist, they make things so much more interesting.

 And that’s the problem.

 Remus is tied to those dark little things and sometimes…sometimes those dark little things don’t stay so dark and little.

 Sometimes they come out and they’re darker in the daylight. Sometimes they take that darkness and force it somewhere it should never go. Sometimes they try and pretend that their darkness is other people’s fault.

 That pisses Remus off.

 Mortals hurt each other. That’s what they do. Sure, they also do a whole lot of other things but mortals feel. That’s what they’re built to do. So it’s inevitable that they’ll get hurt. But the darkness it takes to blame someone or something else for your darkness? That type of darkness makes Remus’s stomach curl.

 Literally. He can feel it squirming around in there.

 Or maybe that’s just the tentacles.

 Listen, mortal forms and mortal-like forms are so stupid, okay? There’s no place to put anything and Remus has to make do.

 When he goes feral, well…different story.

 Remus hasn’t gone feral in a while. Not really. Not like this.

 Not like the agony that was pushed into him by the snake, not like the ants that crawled around in his bones, not like the way it stripped him of himself, layer by layer, until he could only smile until his cheeks ached.

 There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain.

 Then he’d showed up in the garden and seen. Seen this tiny tiny mortal that should never have this much pain. Seen the lines drawn in burned wood in its head, seen the fear that clung to the little thing like water clings to a dead leaf, seen the marks.

 And then they had been so cold.

 Mortals aren’t supposed to be cold. They’re fiery little beasties, even the prissy ones. Their blood runs hot and their little heads like to run themselves silly and they have an awful tendency to burn themselves up with just the slightest push.

 V shivered. V shook. V trembled and his skin had been so icy Remus had been teetering on the edge of going feral before he learned that other mortals did this to V.

 He hadn’t really tried to stop it after that.

 When he had V in his arms, it was better. He could feel V’s darkness scrabbling around inside his head, had been able to wrap his arms around it, hold it tight, feel so much and try and make it settle down.

 Double-edged sword, that was.

 Here’s the thing. Here’s the fucking problem.

 V’s carrying around darkness that isn’t his.

 Whatever monsters did this to him—he shouldn’t fucking call them monsters, monsters were better than this—made him carry around their darkness. Not his. Remus doesn’t even fucking know what darkness is V’s and what darkness has been made V’s. It’s like they picked one person, one person, and made them responsible for everyone’s darkness.

 Mortals don’t like darkness.

 Remus can’t imagine what they must have done if they gave their darkness a singular, corporeal, punishable form.

 Well, no. He can imagine. That’s the fucking problem.

 That’s the main reason why he pulled V aside and told him that, uh, maybe going to his room wasn’t the best idea. Don’t get him wrong, if V wants to Remus will sure as hell take him, that’s cool, but uh…might be a bad time. Thankfully, V didn’t seem too bothered by it, well…not more bothered. Remus wasn’t about to look a gift gulper eel in the mouth.

 Seriously. Uma likes to eat some weird shit.

 The lake is Remus’s favorite part of the forest, just because it’s the only place he really gets to work with his brother. Princey’s great at making everything else but like…it gets boring. Plus, they work better together anyway, even when they don’t agree all the time.

 V’s got a much better appreciation for his stuff anyway.

 Speaking of V, he’s sitting at the edge of the lake, knees tucked up to his chest, idly toying with a branch that drifted over to the shore. Remus paddles over, using his tentacles to keep him afloat as he cocks his head.

 “Find something interesting?”

 V shrugs. “It’s just a stick.”

 …yeah, but like…it could be something else.

 “Wanna play with it?”

 V’s brow wrinkles. “How do you play with a stick?”

 Ignoring the rush of what fucking mortal child doesn’t know how to play with anything and everything, Remus grins and whistles. A few seconds later the water’s surface stirs as something big trundles up to the surface.

 “Ollie!”

 The kraken burbles, wrapping Remus in an arm and giving him a light squeeze. Then it notices V, curled up on the shore, and hums, the water rippling all around it, as it moves toward the edge.

 “Be careful,” Remus scolds as it pulls him with, “don’t beach yourself.”

 Oliver protests lightly, before huffing and reaching out to lay one tentacle in the shallows. V smiles—Remus is so fucking happy V’s smiling now, okay? It’s so good—and waves. Oliver pokes the end of the tentacle out of the water and waves back.

 “Your name is Ollie?”

 “I call him Oliver,” Remus says, patting the tentacle still around his waist.

 “Hi, Oliver,” V says softly, “it’s nice to meet you.”

 The kraken rumbles happily, reaching out for V.

 “Hey!” Remus lightly smacks the tentacle. “Ask first!”

 “A-ask what?”

 “He wants to hug you.” Sure enough, the tentacle near V twitches slightly, water pouring off the sides as it raises out of the lake. V watches it move warily. “he won’t hurt you, V, he’s sweet.”

 Oliver burbles again.

 “You don’t gotta,” Remus says quickly, “if you don’t wanna.”

 V reaches out one hand, trembling slightly as the kraken reaches out to meet him. He pats the arm. Remus grins as Oliver gently taps him back.

 “You wanna play with him?”

 “How?”

 “Throw the stick.”

 “L-like a dog?”

 “You throw dogs?” At V’s horrified face, Remus bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Yeah, V. Ollie likes playing fetch.”

 V’s brow wrinkles adorably. “Really?”

 Remus grins. “Ollie!” The kraken turns its head to look up at him. “Toss!”

 The kraken rears back the arm and hurls Remus across the lake.

 “Wheee!”

 There’s nothing quite like being flung through the air and splashing down into a nice big body of water. Using his own tentacles to propel him back over to the other side, Oliver trills and reaches for him again.

 “Ask,” Remus chides lightly, only to giggle and pat the arm that curls around his waist again. “You just want to hug? Okay.”

 He turns to V, whose mouth is wide open. “See? Fetch.”

 “That…that’s not normally how fetch works.”

 Remus shrugs. “Ollie likes it.”

 “Do..do you like it?”

 “Yeah, I like it. It’s fun!”

 Oliver reaches out slowly for V, laying the arm next to him on the shore. V glances at Remus before carefully reaching for the stick and nervously offering it to Oliver. Oliver takes it and passes it to Remus who grins.

 “Ready?”

 V nods.

 “Ollie, toss!”

 This time, as Oliver hurls him across the lake, Remus chucks the stick as hard as he can away from him, laughing when Oliver trills and dives after it. As Remus swims back, he sees V scramble to his feet, peering anxiously into the distance.

 “Don’t worry,” Remus calls, treading water, “he’ll find it and come back. He always does.”

 Sure enough, not a few seconds later, and the water parts, revealing a very pleased Oliver and a stick clutched delicately in one of his arms. V’s eyes widen as Oliver holds it out, taking the proffered stick carefully.

 “See?” Remus beams. “Fetch.”

 “Fetch,” V echoes breathlessly, “good job, Oliver.”

 “You wanna do it again?” V nods. “Great. Chuck the stick at me.”

 “Wait, but...what if it hits you?”

 “I’m a fucking fae, V, and it’s a fucking stick. Chuck it at me.”

 Remus catches the stick even if he has to lift himself out of the water to do it. Oliver burbles and Remus nods, letting Oliver curl around his waist again.

 “V,” he calls, “you wanna tell him this time?”

 Glancing back and forth between the two of them, V nods. “Toss!”

 Oliver launches Remus with more enthusiasm than he has in a while. So much so that Remus laughs the whole way across the lake and the whole way back.

 “I think he’s trying to impress you,” he remarks when Oliver zips back and forth faster and faster.

 “I’m impressed.”

 Oliver lays the stick on the grass and reaches out for V. V pats the arm only for his eyes to widen when Oliver reaches further and rumbles.

 “He wants to pick you up, V,” Remus explains.

 “D-does he want to throw me?”

 “I’m sure he’d love it if you let him,” Remus says, quickly continuing when V balks, “but I think right now he really just wants to hold you.”

 V still looks unsure. Remus taps his fingers against the arm around his waist, thinking.

  Hmmm…

  Oh hey wait I’ve fucking got it.

 “V?”

 “Y-yeah?”

 “You wanna ride?”

 V’s eyes widen. “Ride?”

 “Yeah.” Remus gestures around. “Lake’s fucking huge, and there’s cool shit everywhere. Plus, Ollie likes you a lot and he’d be real happy to give you a ride if you wanted.”

 Oliver trills in agreement.

 “…okay,” V mumbles eventually, “can I…can I have a ride?”

 “Sure you can. You wanna swim out and let me help you up or you want Ollie to set you on his head?”

 “I—I can do it.”

 “Cool.” Oliver sets Remus on his head and Remus shifts around a bit, trying to work out where the most secure place for V to sit would be. He glances up when V carefully steps into the water, having removed his boots. Oliver shifts around slowly, arranging his tentacles into stairs that V can use to get up.

 “D-duke?”

 “Yeah?”

 “H-how do I get up?”

 “You can climb, climb his arms.”

 V tilts his head. “What if I hurt him?”

 It makes Remus chuckle. “V, you’re tiny. You’re small and light and you’re a mortal. You probably couldn’t hurt him if you tried, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be doing this if it was gonna hurt. You’re all good, climb up.”

 V climbs, slowly and carefully, always wary about where he’s putting his hands or his feet, until he steps onto Oliver’s head and sinks down next to Remus.

 “Good job!” Remus shuffles a little closer. “Ollie’ll go slow for you, but if you wanna hang onto something, you just lemme know, okay?”

 V nods. Remus pats the head under them.

 “Okay! You be nice, yeah? You’re carrying precious cargo here.”

 Remus bites back a laugh at V’s nervous squeak when Oliver rumbles, starting to move. He scrabbles a little for a handhold.

 “Here,” Remus suggests, flopping onto his stomach, “get low. Less chance of falling off.”

 V just curls into himself, trying to hold onto something. Remus frowns, then carefully sits up as Oliver finishes turning toward the rest of the lake.

 “You can hang onto me if you want,” he offers, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 “Can I?”

 “Mhm.” Remus shifts a little closer, opening his arms. “Or I can hang onto you.”

 Nothing feels better than the satisfaction of having V crawl into his lap, letting Remus cuddle him with his back against Remus’s chest, tentacles hanging onto Oliver. Oliver rumbles happily, lazily swimming around the edge of the lake. As they go, he can feel V start to relax, some of the tension seeping out as he slumps against Remus. Remus smiles, closing his eyes to just feel V not being so afraid, for once, feel that pain start to lessen, even if it’s just the smallest bit. Let a little bit of the darkness be chased away.

 By the time they’re back to the familiar shore, Oliver eases gingerly into the shallows and hums. Remus chuckles.

 “Good workout today, huh, buddy?”

 Another rumble.

 “Come on,” he mutters to V, “you want me to help you down or you got it?”

 “I got it.”

 Remus opens his arms and watches V climb back down just as gingerly, giving Oliver one last pat before sitting on the shore. An arm wraps around Remus’s waist and squeezes.

 “Yeah, yeah, I had fun too, buddy. You go eat something?”

 Oliver gives one last rumble and disappears below the surface of the lake. Remus hauls himself out and flops down on the grass beside V, stretching lazily. Snakey’s got a point with this whole sun-warmed surface thing. He can feel himself relaxing.

 “Thank you.”

 At V’s mumble, Remus opens one eye. “Sure, you’re welcome. You have fun?”

 “Mhm.”

 “I’m glad.”

 There’s another stretch of silence. Remus sits up, looking at how V stares at the lake. It’s one of the only times V’s brow isn’t furrowed. Remus decides he likes it better than way.

 “I like the lake,” V confesses quietly, almost too quiet for Remus to hear. “It’s nice.”

 The note of childish wonder in his voice makes Remus feel…weird. It’s not a bad weird, it’s not necessarily a good weird either though. It’s just…weird. Like there’s something fluffy in his chest, something that really wants to make V always sound like this.

 “Good.” Remus shifts a little closer. “What do you like about it?”

 V thinks for a moment, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I like the water.”

 “The water?”

 A small nod. “Water is good.”

 Something changes.  A little darkness colors V’s tone and Remus sits up a little straighter.

 “…’good?’” He tests the word out on his tongue. “Why is water good, V?”

 “Because it isn’t fire.” V curls in on himself. “Fire is bad.”

 The fluff is gone.

  Pain pain pain pain there’s flames rising higher and higher as the crowd grows more and more restless there are sparks and smoke and the wood burns slowly so slowly so slowly the flames creep higher and higher and the man holds a torch aloft and it burns it burns it burns it’s getting closer no please not now—

 “Duke! Duke!”

 Remus growls, the power seeping through him. How dare they, how fucking dare they, the darkness rolls off in waves, crashing, building, flowing higher and higher and higher and—

 “Shh, shh, you stay behind me, okay?”

 It runs deeper. Pushes. Pulls. Opens his mouth. Tilts his head back. The tentacles writhe. The lake trembles. So much. So much.

 “Duke, duke, I need you to listen to me.”

 …Princey?

 What’s Princey doing here?

 “Duke. Duke. You need to stop, you’re scaring V.”

  V.

 Remus growls again, closing his eyes and swallowing the darkness. It sinks into a pit in his chest and he swallows, pushing it back into the depths and away from him. Away from V.

 He growls, curling in on himself, willing the mass of tentacles to behave, settle down, holding himself tightly and trying to dissipate the extra energy.

 “Good…that’s it. Both of you just have a breather, okay?”

 Remus opens his eyes. He’s by the lake. There’s no one here to hurt anyone. He’s alright. They’re alright. He takes one more breath and the last of the mania settles.

  V.

 He looks over and regret burns a hole in his chest. The prince stands there, having pulled V behind him, one hand held out towards Remus, the other hovering protectively over V. V’s curled in on himself so tightly he can barely see him behind the prince.

 Fuck. He fucked up. Did he…

 “…is he blind?” Remus manages, unable to tear his eyes away from this poor poor thing.

 “No,” the prince says softly, “he’s not.”

 “Fuck.”

 “Yeah.” The prince looks at him with a soft fury. “Come on, Re, you know better.”

 “It hurts, Ro,” Remus mutters, unable to stop himself from slipping into the nickname, “it…it’s fucking painful.”

 “Does it hurt still?”

 “Like maggots crawling under my skin.”

 The prince winces sympathetically. “How do you think it is for V?”

 “I know,” Remus mutters angrily, “I’m pissed about that too.”

 They both stop, looking at V huddled on the ground, shaking and mumbling something. Fuck. Fuck, what has Remus done?

 They just fucking got him feeling safe, he just got comfortable asking for things, hell he’s just started being able to sleep in his room…did Remus fuck all of that up?

 “…ke.”

 Remus blinks, straining to hear. The prince does too, turning his head to look down at V. Neither speaks.

 “…ke…d…ke…”

 Remus’s chest clenches.

 “…duke…duke…”

 The prince drops to one knee, reaching out to gather V close. “It’s alright, V, breathe…shh, you’re alright, sweetheart, no one’s hurt.”

 “Duke…”

 “He’s alright, sweetheart, he’s okay.”

 “Duke.”

 The way V’s voice cracks hurts almost as much as going feral did. Remus watches helplessly as V rocks himself back and forth, his arms wrapped so tightly around himself that he can hardly see where one ends and the other begins. He keeps shaking his head, mumbling ‘duke’ over and over.

 The prince glances at Remus then back to V. “…do you want the duke, sweetheart?”

 “…d-duke…”

 Remus swallows. Please, please let this be right.

 “...V?”

 V keens, one of his hands slowly reaching out. Remus scrambles forward, almost knocking his brother out of the way. The prince merely huffs. Remus stares at V, hoping, hoping…

 “V, can you hear me?”

 “Duke?”

 “Yeah, V, it’s me, I’m—I’m sorry.”

 “Duke.”

 “Can I—“

 Remus doesn’t get to finish his sentence. V doesn’t quite throw himself into Remus, but it’s close. Remus wraps around him immediately, tentacles and all, curling in on V as V clings to him, tighter, tighter, tighter.

 “Oh, you two,” he hears the prince murmur distantly, “what will we do with you?”

 Remus doesn’t much care what his brother thinks right now. All he cares about is having V safe in his arms and alive and warm, holding onto him tightly. V keeps sobbing out ‘duke,’ over and over, slowly growing less and less frantic. The prince sits there, gently stroking his hand through Remus’s hair.

 It takes a while—much fucking longer than Remus would like—to finally get everyone to settle down. They slump there, on the ground, still curled around each other. The prince huffs a laugh, ruffling Remus’s hair before standing up.

 “I think you two,” he murmurs, “should talk, hmm?”

 Remus nods, still holding V tightly. The prince gives him a nod and vanishes back into the forest.

 “…V?”

 V shifts a little. “Mm?”

 “Can we talk about, uh, what just happened?”

 A few seconds pass and V scoots further into Remus’s lap. “…can we stay like this?”

 “Of course,” Remus says instantly, “we can stay like this. I, uh, I wanna apologize.”

 “For what?”

 Remus swallows. “Going feral. Scaring you. Almost blinding you.”

 There’s a moment of silence.

 “…I’m not mad at you.”

 “You’re not?”

 He feels V’s head shake against his neck. “It—I—mmphf.”

 “Take your time,” Remus says quickly, “I’m not gonna let go if you don’t want.”

 “Don’t…”

 He squeezes. “I won’t.”

 V is the perfect little weight in his lap. Soft, not too heavy, just this side of too warm, cuddling into him with the persistence of a snuggle-deprived jellyfish.

 Oh, V should totally meet the school of jellyfish. He’d love them.

 “…no one’s ever done that before.”

 V’s voice is so quiet that for a moment, Remus isn’t even sure he’s spoken. Then he shifts again.

 “No one’s ever done that for me.”

 “…go feral?”

 V shakes his head. “…be protective.”

 Oh, this is not the time to be making such broken, heartfelt confessions because Remus can and will get pissed all over again at everything and everyone that made V think he wasn’t worth protecting.

 “…oh, little monster…”

 If V doesn’t like the pet name, he gives no indication. In fact…V almost burrows into him. Remus tightens his grip again, rocking V back and forth the way he remembers Patton doing.

 “I—I’ve never had—“ V gasps against his shoulder— “I don’t know how—it—I—“

 “Shh, little monster,” Remus burbles, trying really really fucking hard to remember how to do this, “you, uh, you just breathe, okay? I’m right here. You don’t have to know things.”

 “—I don’t wanna be afraid,” V manages, “I don’t wanna be afraid.”

 “You don’t have to be, little monster, you don’t.”

 “Y-you—“

 “Hang on, little monster,” Remus interrupts gently when V’s breaths start to get faster again, “you gotta slow down, come on…”

 They breathe together.

 “…yeah?”

 “You make me feel safe,” V blurts, “and—and I don’t wanna…I don’t wanna not.”

 His fingers tap out an anxious rhythm on Remus’s back.

 “Feral is scary.”

 “Feral is scary,” Remus murmurs in agreement, “and, uh, I’m trying not to do it.”

 He pulls back and gently nuzzles into V’s hair.

 “Don’t wanna scare you.”

 “No one’s ever been angry for me before,” V whispers, “it’s…it’s nice.”

 “Well, I’m not gonna stop being angry at them,” Remus mutters, “but I will get better at not scaring you.”

 “I-it’s okay.”

 “No, it’s not, little monster,” Remus corrects gently, “the others are right. I could hurt you going feral way more than I would hurt anyone who deserves it. So I gotta be better about that. For you.”

 “For me?”

 Remus clutches him tighter. “For you.”

 He’s being serious. Absolute fucking stone right now. This cinched it. He could’ve hurt V really fucking bad by going feral right then. He knows he can’t risk that happening again, so he’s gotta figure his shit out real fast.

 There’s one person he knows will be able to help him.

 L raises an eyebrow when Remus appears next to his desk. “Well, this certainly is unexpected. Is something the matter?”

 “Yeah.” Remus shuffles. L’s room makes him feel like sandpaper. “I need your help not going feral.”

 L blinks. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting. I must highlight the fact that suppressing your nature is not a long-term solution.”

 “I’m not trying to stop it permanently. I just…” Remus twists his hands together. “I fucked up earlier.”

 L sits. “Tell me?”

 Remus explains what happened, from the fetch to the ride to learning that one of the reasons that fucking hurt so much was that they burned—

 “I see,” L interrupts stiffly, his own hands starting to clench, “and I am…proud of you, Duke.”

 Remus blinks. “Wait, what? Why?”

 “Of your restraint,” L mutters, “and of the fact that you recognized that this was a problem and you have come to try and find a solution.”

 Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, Remus gnaws on his bottom lip, trying to relieve the extra energy. Going feral twice in one day is not a good idea.

 “Don’t do that,” L says.

 “Do what?”

 “Bite.” L taps the side of his mouth. “Not healthy.”

 Remus rolls his eyes. “it’s not like I’m gonna bleed out, L.”

 “No, you won’t,” L says, “but it’s still not a healthy coping mechanism.”

 “So?”

 “So—“ L crosses his arms— “you’re trying to be better for V. V will very much be hurt by something like that.”

 Ah.

 Fuck, that’s a good reason.

 “Okay,” Remus mutters, “okay. What can I do?”

 “What helps you calm down normally,” L asks, “when you go feral?”

 “Fuck, I don’t know,” Remus sighs, “I don’t—it’s not—it’s not like it’s happened recently!”

 “It’s V, isn’t it?”

 “What?”

 “V.” L motions for Remus to sit down, folding his hands in his lap. “V has…a lot of emotional trauma. You are perhaps the most linked with emotional trauma.”

 “Isn’t that Pat-Pat’s job?”

 L shakes his head. “Pat works with emotion, what is currently being experienced. You, however, and your brother, are more closely tied to memory.”

 “So…”

 “So you, more than any of us, even your brother, are being affected by this change.”

 “But it’s not his fault.”

 “No, and neither is it yours. It simply is.” Remus buries his face in his hands. “Not the answer you were looking for, I’m sure.”

 “Really fucking wasn’t.”

 “You didn’t answer my question,” L prompts, “what normally helps you calm down?”

 “Fuck, I don’t know! Calming down isn’t really my strong suit. That’s my birthday suit.”

 L pinches the bridge of his nose. “Focus, please.”

 Remus sits back in the chair. What helps him calm down?

 Well…

 “…safe,” Remus mumbles, “safe makes me calm down.”

 “When you feel safe?”

 He shakes his head. “When V is safe.”

 L makes a noise of understanding. “Your ‘going feral’ is caused by the pain you experience when V is under stress, caused by his past trauma. Thus whenever you can remind yourself that he is safe, and no longer in danger, it helps you snap out of it.”

 “But now I’m the danger.”

 “Are you trying to hurt V?”

 “What?” Remus leaps to his feet, the air crackling. L sits, impassive as always. “No!”

 “Are you willingly putting V in situations where you know he will be upset?”

 “What the fuck is—“

 “Are you?”

 “No!”

 “When you are in a place where you could hurt V,” L continues, still smooth as fucking glass in his chair, “do you try and distance yourself so you do not?”

 Oh. Remus gets it now.

 “…yeah.”

 “Then,” L says firmly, “you are not the danger you believe yourself to be.”

 Remus sits back in the chair slowly. “…said I make him feel safe.”

 “You do,” L says, “more than most of us do, I would guess. I imagine that…having someone be as protective as you are is something quite foreign to V.”

 “Shouldn’t be.”

 “No. It shouldn’t.”

 Remus scrubs his hands over his face, wishing that this was fucking easy, that they could just…wipe them all out. Make the fear go away. Make the scars disappear.

 But they can’t.

 “What can I do, then,” Remus mumbles, “it—it wasn’t so bad today because Princey showed up.”

 “Having another person helped?”

 “No, well, kind of.” Remus twists his hands together again. “…made sure he pulled V outta the way.”

 “Mm.”

 There’s a few moments of silence while L thinks, idly tapping a finger against his wrist.

 “I have noticed,” he says after a while, “that the times when you are most likely to ‘go feral,’ so to speak, coincide with times when V is experiencing particularly high levels of stress.”

 Remus nods.

 “You have also stated that when V feels safe, and perhaps when you are able to make him feel safe, you’re able to calm down faster.”

 Another nod. L’s fucking good at problem-solving.

 “Do you think, then,” L says, “that if we were to help you get better at calming V down, you would, in turn, be able to calm yourself faster?”

 “L, you’re a fucking genius.”

 L blushes too, did you know that? “Well, I…”

 “So what do I do?”

 “Right.” L adjusts his tie. “What do you know already?”

 Remus thinks. “He, uh, he likes to be asked before anything happens, including being moved or touched.”

 “Good. What else?”

 “…he doesn’t like loud noises, or bright lights.”

 “Good.”

 “No fire.”

 “Mm.”

 “He likes the lake?”

 “Does it help him calm down?”

 “…dunno.”

 L nods. “Anything else?”

 Remus thinks. What else, what else…

 “Having his eyes closed,” he says carefully, “helped before, didn’t it? Stopped him from getting super overwhelmed?”

 “That is possible,” L says, “but it is unlikely to be something you try first, as it would require a decent amount of cognitive awareness or physical contact to achieve, both of which are not frequent in times of high stress.”

 “What can I do, then?”

 “How likely do you think it is that you will be able to speak calmly?”

 Remus snorts. The corner of L’s mouth quirks up.

 “Mm. Then it might be better to try something else, then.”

 “Something else?”

 L tilts his head, looking at Remus with that stare that makes him feel like L can see through him. “I have also noticed that with you, V does not seem as…averse to physical contact.”

 Wait, what?

 “When you held him in the garden, when he first arrived,” L says, “and when you rubbed his back. He was not afraid of you, no more than he was startled. Admittedly, this was during a prolonged period of high stress.”

 “W-wait, you’re right, earlier, he—“ Remus wraps his arms around himself— “by the lake, he…he asked for me. He…”

 “He initiated contact?”

 “…yeah.”

 A soft smile comes over L’s face. “I’m pleased.”

 “Why?”

 “Because you, perhaps more than the rest of us,” L continues, “are very eager to protect V. So much so that it leads to…”

 “Going feral.”

 “Indeed. And if V chooses to seek comfort from you…” L raises his eyebrows pointedly.

 “…then…then I can do it that way.”

 “Correct.”

 L gets up, reaching for a glass of water. He holds it out to Remus who takes it carefully.

 “Why’s this so fucking hard?”

 “Because nothing like this is easy, Duke,” L answers, fetching a glass for himself, “for anyone involved. I, for one, am impressed.”

 “…by?”

 “You.”

 “Me?”

 “Yes,” L says, “and how much you have…decided to change your approach.”

 Ah. Yeah.

 Yeah, the last time they found a mortal that had been…mistreated—apparently, Pat-Pat had an issue with Remus calling it ‘super fucked up’ even though it was—they’d died just on the outskirts of the garden.

 “Not with V,” Remus mumbles, “I want V to stay. They were already gone.”

 A few moments of silence pass, then there’s a soft whoosh.

 L sighs. “You can come out, J.”

 J strides out of the shadows, part of Remus’s mind trying valiantly to convince him that he’s been there the whole time. He hasn’t, Remus fucking knows he hasn’t, but still.

 “Where’s V?”

 “With Pat,” J answers smoothly, “eating.”

 “Good,” L says, “difficult emotional experiences should be followed by food.”

 Remus winces. He can almost feel the fucking room get colder. J’s head tilts.

 “I’m sure I know exactly what you’re referring to,” he says softly, “and I wouldn’t appreciate an explanation.”

 L, the asshole, just looks at Remus. Remus sighs and explains again.

 J takes one deep breath and lets it out slowly. Remus bows his head, waiting. Then he feels gloved fingers carding through it and he shudders.

 “Did you need something?” he hears L ask.

 “I was out for a walk,” J says, still stroking Remus’s hair, “by the lake. Something felt…off. So I tried to find the duke.”

 “‘M here.”

 “I can see that.”

 “Needed L’s help.”

 “And did you get it?” Remus nods, not wanting to jar J’s hand loose. “Good.”

 “We do just have the theory, however,” L muses, “and no practice.”

 “I may be able to help with that.”

 Remus looks up when J’s fingers leave his hair. “I’m listening.”

 It’s later, much later, when Remus finally leaves L’s room. The forest is twinkling, his brother sitting crosslegged on his favorite stump. Remus hugs him tightly, thanks him for being there earlier.

 “Of course, Re,” his brother murmurs, “and thank you for being there.”

 “I will be,” Remus says, “I will be.”

 It’s not much later when Remus is walking back to the clearing and a scream rips through the air.

  V.

 The door is locked. It’s locked tight. Remus can’t push. He can’t push. He can’t ruin this.

 The scream keeps going.

 “V! V!”

  Keeps going.

 It aches. It aches and the longer it goes, the longer it hurts, the harder it gets for Remus to keep from breaking the door down. Then a flurry of footsteps and—

 “V!”

 Remus catches V as he barrels out of his room, barely having enough time to open his arms and catch his balance. V’s eyes, wide with panic, settle on Remus’s face.

 “V,” Remus repeats softly, “V.”

 “…duke?”

 “Yeah. Yeah, little monster, it’s Duke.”

 “…duke.”

 Remus eases them to the ground, keeping his arms firmly around V. He draws him gently into his lap, closing his eyes and burying his face in V’s hair, feeling V curl up in his lap, still shaking, still shivering. A bolt of pain shoots through his chest when he feels the raw cry against his throat and his arms tighten around V, trying in vain to take some of that pain and push it into himself. V so desperately needs to stay mortal, to stay V, to feel. The last thing he wants is for this to destroy V beyond repair.

 “It’s alright, little monster, I got you, you’re safe, I’m not going to let anything hurt you, shh, just keep breathing for me.”

 He keeps up the litany of calm reassurances and comforting noises, rocking V back and forth on the ground. V’s shuddering breaths echo in the still clearing. His hands and arms tremble violently against Remus’s back and he can’t tell whether it’s because they’re holding onto him so tightly that his muscles are shaking or if he’s panicking so much he can’t stop shaking. The monster growling inside Remus’s chest starts snarling when V shudders harder.

  No. Not now. He’s safe. Keep him safe.

 Remus breathes. Tells the beastie in his chest to pipe the fuck down. Wraps himself around V and holds him close.

  Safe. Safe. Safe.

  They’re safe.

 “...V?”

 V mumbles, burying his cold nose in Remus’s neck.

 “Hey, V,” Remus murmurs, “can we, uh, can we get you out of the forest? It’s gonna get cold before too long, little monster.”

 V nods, not moving.

 “…can I carry you then, little monster?”

 Another nod.

 Scooping V gingerly into his arms, Remus hesitates. He doesn’t want to take V into his room, not now, but he also doesn’t want to push V too far, to push his way into V’s room.

 “V? Little monster?” V moves a little bit. “Can we go into your room?”

 “…stay?”

 “Yeah, V, I’ll stay with you, little monster.”

 Remus carries him inside, gently sitting on the floor with V still in his lap when he flinches at the noise the bed makes. He uses his tentacles to hold them slightly off the floor. He keeps rocking them slowly back and forth, murmuring safe, safe, safe.

 “…safe?”

 “Yeah, V.” Remus swallows. “We’re safe.”

 “You promise?”

 “I promise.” He adjusts his grip. “…you wanna talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t.”

 V mumbles something.

 “I can’t hear you, little monster,” Remus murmurs, shifting a little, “can you say it again?”

 “…just names.”

 “Names?”

 V clutches Remus’s arms tightly. “…names they used to call me.”

 “Like what? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he adds hastily.

 V hooks his chin over Remus’s shoulder, still breathing hard. Remus glances around.

 “Can I get you something to drink?” V nods. “Still want me to keep hold of you?”

 “…please?”

 “Sure.”

 Tentacles are useful things. When V has a glass of water in his hands, Remus lets him sit back a little, drinking carefully as Remus runs his hands over V’s back. V’s eyes drift closed and he lets out a tired mumble.

 “Sleepy?”

 “Mm.”

 Remus hums, letting V collapse a little bit more into his lap. He turns V slightly so that he can keep hold of the water.

 “…said I was a demon.”

 “What?”

 “The…others,” V mumbles, fear and weariness warring in his tone, “said I was a demon. That I was…cursed.”

 Words are so fucking stupid.

 Mortals are so fucking stupid.

 “You’re not cursed, V,” Remus says firmly, “promise. We’d be able to tell if you were.”

 “…really?”

 “What the hell made them say you were cursed?”

 V hesitates, little ripples appearing in the water. Remus tugs him closer, murmuring safe, safe, safe.

 “…my eyes,” V whispers, “they said my eyes showed I was…evil.”

 Now that.

 That is truly the fucking stupidest thing Remus has ever heard.

 V giggles softly when Remus says as much, letting Remus stroke a hand through his hair and wrap his other arm firmly around his waist. He slips a hand slowly under V’s tunic, pressing against his tummy and rubbing.

 “Mm,” V hums, “…warm.”

 “Good,” Remus says, “good, V.”

 He shakes his head. So fucking stupid.

 “You’re not cursed, V. You’re not evil. You’re not a demon. Words are fucking stupid and mortals are stupid too.”

 “…they are?”

 “In big groups? Absolutely.” Remus sets his chin protectively on top of V’s head. “You are a smart one. And that’s good.”

 “I’m good?”

 The vulnerable shake in V’s voice coaxes Remus to guide V’s gaze upward.

 “You are,” he says firmly, brushing the hair out of V’s violet, violet eyes. “And your eyes are fucking stunning.”

 He chuckles when V flushes, trying to hide his face in Remus’s neck again.

 “Princey must’ve had fun with you, hmm?”

 “Still is,” comes the mumble.

 “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

 “…no, I’m just…not used to it.”

 Remus hums, closing his eyes. The arm around V’s waist squeezes tightly. At the breath that sounds almost torn out of him, V relaxes.

 “…is that what Oliver’s hugs feel like?”

 Grinning, Remus squeezes him tighter. “You want to find out tomorrow?”

 “…please?”

 “Of course, little monster.”

 V’s not cursed.

V’s not a demon.

 And V’s eyes are gorgeous.

 Words are just fucking stupid.

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[hitsuackerman]

Why Did It Have to be Him? pt. 3 (Aizawa x Reader)

a/n: so yes... i made a very self indulgent part 3 :’) i hope ya’ll enjoy!

Warnings: Student-Teacher relationship, Age-gap, Cursing, Domestic fluff

Link: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Materlist for my other fics :) here

Every night, ever since he came over, Aizawa would call. The night before you would move into the dorm, the two of you somehow reached the conclusion that he would come over and have dinner. You don’t know how it happened, but things took a turn.

“You know,” You greeted him with a shy smile. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“It’s fine.” He replied as he entered your house. Things felt a bit weird knowing the last time he visited, he pinned you to the wall and lit up a ticking time bomb. “Dining room?”

“O-over here.” You stuttered. Somehow, you hoped he wasn’t striking a conversation with you. Your eyes were savoring his back. He was wearing his civilian clothes. Something you had never seen before. His nape ever so inviting. Broad shoulders that he always kept hidden beneath the binding gear. Indeed, a pretty sight.

Placing the bag on the table, he began to unload the food. Meanwhile, you took out some plates and utensils. What you didn’t know was how his eyes were fixated on you. Sure, you were wearing an oversized hoodie, but your shorts were giving him a rather… hard time.

Sitting down, he took an elastic from his pocket and tied his hair. It was beginning to sink in that he was having an intimate dinner with his student. The silence was a tad deafening. His mouth would open but close not soon after. He wanted to start a conversation, he just wasn’t sure what topic to start.

Whatever confidence he had in the phone, seemingly disappeared. So much for being a pro-hero.

“I really do appreciate you bringing some food…” You broke the silence. It was a little overbearing.

“It’s nothing…” He accepted the plate. The tips of your fingers touching. The way your cheeks slowly turned pink caused a small smirk to form in the corners of his mouth. “I hope you like (favorite food).”

“Oh please, you’re just teasing me.” Taking the seat across, you scratched your cheek and mentally slapped yourself for talking so casually. To your teacher. Whom you were having dinner with. At 7:30pm. Your cheeks turned even redder when he served you some food.

“But, I actually wanted to talk about this in person.” He began. “It’s about all this.”

Leaning into the chair, he looked at your features. They were still soft but there was a hint of anxiety to it.

“Are you sure about all this?” Straightforward. As expected. “This is barely logical and both of us have a lot to lose.”

“I am.” You began to play with your food. Your eyes trying to avoid his. “But, if this makes you uncomfortable then I guess I can back off.”

Resting his elbows on the table, his hand scratched his eyebrow. Your eyes darted to his when you heard him chuckling silently. This would have to be the first time, at least in person, that you heard his deep voice making that sound.

“A little too late for that.”

A soft giggle escaped your mouth. The sound of the chair dragging caught your attention. The man walked over and took the seat next to you. His right elbow rested on the table and placed his chin on his palm. His other hand found the crown of your head. Patting you.

Your heart skipped a beat at the show of affection. Though, you were pretty sure that he does this to his students when he’s proud of them, this one felt a little different. A bit more intimate compared to the others.

“Wanna watch a movie while eating?” You offered. When he agreed, he grabbed the food and followed your lead. Compared to his height, he found it… adorable how he had to look down. This time it was his turn to bump your back. “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

Once the movie and food were gone, silence between the two of you continued. Your eyes would ever so often linger on your companion. The way he lazily sat on your sofa was undeniably attractive in its own way. The space between you two equalled one cushion.

“You can come here, if you like.” Aizawa offered. His arms extended his arms, inviting you to his chest. His eyes avoid yours. ‘God damnit Shota. What if she refuses? You’d look like a fool.’

It took a second for your brain to comprehend what he said.  Slowly, you scooted towards him and leaned on his chest. Knowing this position was a bit uncomfortable for the both of you, he adjusted and layed down on the sofa. His body heat was amazing and the moment he draped his arms on your waist (although a little stiff) it felt comforting nonetheless.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his hands barely touching your shirt. Your hair smelled like lavender.

“I guess this is something I could get used to.” You lifted your head to look at him. Your breath hitched when realization came flooding in. This would have to be the second time your faces were near each other. With a less foggy mind, you took in his features.

‘Do not look at his lips, (Y/N).’ You repeated in your head religiously. Allowing yourself to look into his eyes, they were flat as hell but it was evident his mind was working. He could see how your eyes were traveling around his face. He too, only started to realize just how prettier you were.

‘Shota. Don’t look at her lips.’ He chanted.

All the repetitions and chants seemed to fail. At the same time, the two of you glanced down to each of your lips and back up. Inch by inch, it was getting clearer that the both of you were leaning in closer. Maybe a taste was all you two needed to break the ice.

With the tip of your noses brushing against each other, you felt his hot breath brush against your lip. Half hooded eyes slowly closing to further feel the moment. You could feel his arms tightening his hold on your waist. Your fingers held on to his shirt. The rapid beating of your heart ramming in both your eardrums.

When your lips touched, it felt as if Denki had electrocuted your body. His lips were a tad dry but nothing but a few more seconds of kissing won’t help. Letting go of his shirt, your hands slowly wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer. Wanting to deepen the kiss, you felt his tongue tracing your lower lip. No hesitation on your part, you granted him access.

What started out as slow, started to turn into curiosity and hunger. He would nibble on your lower lip, you would bite then suck his tongue, his fingers found their way to your hair, and a moan and grunt would occasionally fill the room.

Aizawa was well aware that his friend was wide awake. Each second that passed, he felt it twitch. As much as he wanted to, he knew it was a step too far. Take things slow. That’s what he always told himself. Now that the two of you definitely crossed the line, things would no doubt be difficult. Of course, he was willing to try.

Parting your lips from his, the both of you leaned on each other’s forehead. The first inhale you took, Aizawa leaned in and kissed you once more. His large hand softly tucked the strands of your hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek. He felt intoxicated by your lips and wanted to savor it a little more.

“(Y/N)!” A loud voice came from outside your door. That tone, all too familiar.

Both your eyes widened. It was all such a rush. You instructing your teacher, whom you just shared a makeout session with, to go to your room and stay there. Running to the kitchen to dump the plates on the sink. And finally opening the door, only to find your classmates.

“Bakugo? Kiri?” Your eye twitched when you saw them. Of all people, why these two. “Anything I can help you with?”

“We got you some snacks, (Y/N).” Kiri said with a toothy smile. Bakugo simply grunted. Being used to the two of them, you chewed your inner cheeks when they ushered themselves in. Your eyes quickly scanning the area, the tall raven-haired man was not in sight.

The two boys crashed on the sofa. Their eyes fell towards the food laid on the coffee table. Giving Kiri the go signal, he happily fed himself while Bakugo scanned the room.

“Oi. Who’s here?” He bluntly asked. Red eyes digging deep into your soul. “The nearest shop that sells this food is 40 minutes from here.”

“Oh. I left earlier.” You brushed his question away. “My cousin dropped by, hence the big serving.”

“The couch is warm.” He pointed out. He stood up and began to walk around the room.

“Give her a break, idiot.” Kiri teased his friend. He had finished the leftovers. Leaning onto the sofa, he rubbed his full stomach. “Besides, were the ones who came unannounced.”

“Count yourself lucky, extra.” Bakugo added as he sat himself down.

Thankful that he let the topic die down, the three of you chatted for a few minutes. It was pretty clear though that you were a bit distracted. Judging that you were merely tired from having a relative come over, the two boys stayed for a little longer before heading out. The second the door locked, you dashed to your room.

‘What the heck am supposed to call him? Aizawa-sensei? Aizawa?’ You debated before slowly opening your bedroom door. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah.” He had seated himself by the edge of your bed. A book in his hand, lazily flipping and scanning the pages. His hair covering a portion of his face. “Bakugo and Kirishima?”

“Mhmm.” You sat beside him but left a small distance between you two. “They like to bring me food from time to time. Sorry, for panicking like that.”

“It’s fine.” He closed the book and tossed it to your desk. Shifting his position, he was now facing you now. Crossing his arms, he let out a sigh and ruffled his hair. “I have to go in a while, though. You might want to prepare for tomorrow, too.”

“I suggest after 30 minutes.” You scratched your cheek. A slight tint of pink forming. “Bakugo and Kiri get protective of me. That’s why they randomly visit and shower me with snacks.”

“Sure.”

There was a silent agreement that both of you would stay inside the room. Just to make sure that Kiri or Bakugo had stayed behind to make sure that you weren’t hiding anything. During those times, Aizawa and you leaned on the wall and simply did small talk. It was soothing. His voice always managed to calm you down, no matter how dead he sounded to the world.

Your stomach fluttered when you recalled the kiss that you had just shared with him. It was warm, hot, and the epitome of guilty pleasure. In his peripheral, he saw how your cheeks began to turn a shade of red. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation the two of you were in.

Both of you turned to face each other. Mouths ready to say something. Closing yours, you signaled him to go first.

“I should get going.” That’s definitely not what he wanted to say.

Helping you stand up, you accepted his hand. Letting him pull you towards his chest. Once more, your eyes locked with each other. Feeling a little brave, you stood on your toes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. Thank goodness he was looking at you, it would have made things awkward if you needed to jump a bit.

“We’re playing a dangerous game, kid.” He teased as his fingers began to play with your hair. His free hand resting on your waist. “You really sure about this? It’ll get harder to turn your back.”

“I want this.” You’re voice breathy. Somehow, your arms were now wrapped around his neck. It relaxed you when his palm cupped your cheek once more. His thumb brushing your soft skin.

“What are you doing me, (L/N)...” He cut himself and shook his head. “(Y/N).”

“I dunno what I do to you but I sure as hell know what you do to me…” You furrowed your brows and pointed your index finger at him. “I, uh, don’t know what to call you.”

He leaned in and gave you a deep kiss.

“Shota, if we’re alone.” His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. Connecting your lips with his, the two of you began to fumble backwards till your legs bumped the foot of your bed. Still, none of you bothered to stop kissing.

‘Eraserhead. Enough. Leave before things get even more out of control.’ His conscience was screaming. It felt all too real to finally be kissing you with him on top. Straddling you on your own soft bed. It was more than music to his ears when you would let out a soft moan from his small lip nibbling.

Your hands found his jaw and you gently broke the kiss. Flustered, that’s what you were. Giggling at the sight of him confused, you reminded him of his mission.

“I thought you were leaving,” You paused. Knowing you were about to say his name was like a dream. “Shota.”

Blinking his dry eyes away, he smirked and crawled away from you. It took a while but it dawned on him that you had called him by his first name. And damn, did it sound so good.

Before you opened the door, you peaked out the window to make sure that no one could see him leave your house. Though of course, your two bodyguards were long gone by now, you just needed to be sure.

Seeing that things were clear, you opened the door and let him take his exit. Not bothering to turn his back, he waved farewell and kept walking. He knew that if he would turn around, he’d most probably end up staying for another hour. It was also almost his patrol hours, so he knew his priorities.

“Don’t be late tomorrow.”

“I won’t~”

[maraudersandlily20]

Remus leaned over the table, his eyes studying the map intensely. He looked up and met James’ anxious gaze. “And you’re sure this is the place?” 

The other boy nodded. “We’ve had spies keeping tabs on two locations. One, here,” his finger drifted over a marked up piece on the map. “This is where all the big wigs go, meetings are held, plans are made. But this one,” he moved his touch to the other marked spot, the one Remus had been studying. “This place is more like a prison or a holding space.”

“They bring people there, but a lot of them don’t come out,” Fabian said calmly, his arms folded tight across his chest. “They wouldn’t bring Sirius to a place where people would recognize him. He’s a pureblood. It’s defeats the whole purpose.”

“Voldemort may be vicious, but he’s also a master at manipulation. And if you don’t have willing minds, you have no one to manipulate. He needs funding, support, just like anyone does in a war.” Gideon added on from his position against the wall.

“So, it would make sense they would keep him here then.” Remus agreed, pondering for a moment. “It’s been over a week, Prongs. Do you think he’s still-”

“He’s in there,” James interrupted suddenly, not allowing Remus to finish his sentence. “He has to be.”

“Besides, Rem, it’ll give us an opportunity to get as many people out as we can,” Frank said, always the voice of reason. “Even if they have moved Sirius, which we think is highly doubtful, the blow we could deal them is too good to pass us.”

Remus nodded, feeling the worry settle into his stomach. “So, we leave at midnight?” They all agreed.

“Wouldn’t be a real Order mission without a little theatrics,” Gideon said with a smile.

Remus looked over at James and the two shared a moment of quiet determination. They had let Sirius slip away from them once and this was the only opportunity they had to get him back. They couldn’t fail. They would never forgive themselves if they failed.

The boys all tried to sleep, but weren’t too successful. Finally, the clock on the wall showed 11:45, which caused all of them to rise together, prepping themselves for what would probably be a battle. Remus slid into his boots, tying the knots firmly and patted his wand in his pocket. When everyone was ready, they gathered together in a circle. 

“Remember,” Frank said, “This isn’t a battle, it’s a stealth mission. We want to get in and out as quickly and as quietly as possible with as many people as we can find. We have thirty minutes. So set your watches.” He looked over at Remus. “And if we don’t find Sirius in that time, we still have to leave. Do you understand?”

Remus had to nod, though he knew that would be the real struggle. If he didn’t find Sirius in the allotted time, could he really leave if there was a chance Sirius was there.

They all breathed together, trying to calm their nerves, before placing their hands on the shoulder of the person beside them. Frank raised his wand, closed his eyes, and the five of them were suddenly standing in a small building. It was the outpost the order had been using to keep tabs on the location. It was empty despite a few blankets and the remnants of some dinner. With careful steps, they left the building and made their way through the tall grass to the entrance of what had once been an old mine. When they reached the door, Frank whispered a spell and it swung open. He turned back to the team.

“Gideon, you’re on distraction. Fabian, James and I are on cell openings. Getting as many people out as we can. And Remus,” he met his gaze, his determination set there. “Bring our boy home.”

Remus nodded and watched as his friends took off in different directions, their footsteps barely making a sound against the old concrete floor. He bit his lip and sent out a call through his mind.

“Sirius,” he thought, his heart pounding. “Sirius, I’m coming.”

And then Remus did something he often swore he would never do. He allowed the tug inside of him, the dormant wolf that was always there, to come to surface. When he opened his eyes, he could smell scents much more clearer than before. There were familiar ones, like the Prewetts, Frank, and of course James that were mingled with the foreign scents of the new place.. But there was one familiar scent that caught Remus’ attention quickly, because the wolf recognized it so thoroughly. The scent of a canine mixed with the scent of a lover. 

Sirius. 

Remus set off jogging in the direction that the smell grew stronger, wand raised and ready for any attack he might face. He kept his steps quiet and carefully went around a series of corners. He heard voices talking with each other and he skidded to a halt, pushing himself against the wall, hoping to avoid being seen. He watched as two men on patrol walked through a nearby hallway, discussing some poor soul or another. And then they were gone and Remus was off once again.

He started passing numerous doors, cells, he assumed. Many were empty, smelling only of stone and sulfur. There were a few, however, that held prisoners. Remus knew, someone inside of him, that he was supposed to care, that he was supposed to want to free them. But all he could think of was Sirius.

The scent of him grew stronger with each step. Remus paused and walked with slow steps, listening for any noise that could be heard at either end of the hall. It was incredibly silent, as if the deatheaters were so confident in their abilities to keep captives that they hadn’t even considered putting too many guards with their prisoners. Their mistake. 

Remus felt his heart beating wildly through his chest as the smell of Sirius hit him hard, coming directly from behind one metal door. It had to be him. It had to be Sirius.

With a deep breath, he lifted his wand and checked around him, making sure he was alone, before whispering “Alohomora” and hearing the lock click behind it. His fingers were trembling as he reached up and pushed the door opened, cringing as it let out a squeak. 

When the door had fully opened, the sight it revealed made Remus was to vomit. Sirius was, in fact, in the room. He was in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but his undergarments and his arms were held up to the side of his body, confined there with chains. His body was littered with bruises and cut marks, making his skin look like it was multi-colored. Someone had done a real number on him, and he barely looked up at the sound of someone coming in.

“Couldn’t leave me be for too long, huh?” His voice called, raspy and coated in pain. “I thought we discussed that in order to make the pain worse, you had to give me time between each interrogation. That way it’s more potent.”

And Remus realized then that Sirius, even after a week held captive by some of the cruelest wizards in the world, simply would not break. No one would ever be able to kill the spirit and courage that exuded from him. He would always be the strongest person in the room.

“I’d heard that before, but honestly, I came here to understand why you missed dinner?”

Sirius’ head flew up in surprise at the sound of the familiar voice. He took in Remus, beautiful Remus wearing an old pair of jeans and a black sweater, his hair messy and his face tired. But it was Remus. Remus was there. 

Remus stepped forward then, falling to his knees in front of his boyfriend. He placed a gentle hand on each side of his face and pressed his forehead against the other boy’s. “You can’t just keep missing dinner like this, Pads. It’s really not okay.”

A sob came from the figure Remus held. “I’m so sorry, Rem. I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again.”

Remus smiled sadly before standing and walking to the wall where one of the chains that held Sirius was anchored. He took a deep breath before whispering “incendio” and watching as the metal began to melt before clanging down the floor. He ran to the other side and did the same. Sirius let out a yelp of relief and he was able to lower his arms for the first time in days. Remus went to him and wrapped him in his arms and hauling him to his feet. He let him hold his boyfriend for a moment, breathing him in, allowing himself to feel the reassurance that Sirius was there, alive, and breathing. 

“We should probably go,” Sirius whispered. Remus nodded and pulled back, looking down at the cuffs against Sirius’ skin. They had rubbed the skin beneath them raw, leaving deep gashes that were slowly being scabbed over. With a deep breath, he took one cuff in his hand and pulled it in two different directions, allowing strength to flow through him. The metal squealed for a moment until the metal broke apart and fell to the floor. Remus copied the movement on the other side, and then Sirius was free. 

He could barely stand and for the first time in a week, he allowed the tears to come. Remus held him tightly against him and kissed his head softly. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” He asked softly. Sirius nodded, hiccuping through the tears, and grasped onto Remus’ sweater tightly until his knuckles turned white. Remus, feeling like one part of himself had been returned, imagined the Prewett’s front door, the meeting place, and then took out his wand and apparated them out of there. 

When the guards would come to the interrogation room after the announcement of over 15 prisoners being freed, they would find two chains melted off the wall and broken to pieces.

And Sirius Black was gone. 

[kadeunpc]

the life of a barbarian;

An orphan in Clubs is less of a rarity and more of a staple. Some are taken in by kindly neighbors, others by calculating adults with ill intentions, but most are left to fend for themselves. Orphanages in practice if not in name are relatively common, and this story begins in one of them.

A small boy, old enough to walk but not to speak, appears on the doorstep of one such household accompanied by no one. The older children, used to new blood appearing in this fashion, take him inside to protect and raise him as brother just as their siblings had done for them. A house full of Club children with no guardians outside of the few teenagers who stuck around is a wild place to grow into adulthood. Fights were common, education near absent, but a warm home with others just like you is a better place to grow than the streets.

When he is old enough to question the world he asks one of his older sisters why he does not have a name. “Parents usually name kids, an’ you haven’t got any,” she replies bluntly, too busy trying to figure out how she’ll find the food to feed the budding shifter to care much for gentleness. “If you wan’a name you’ll haf’ta think’a one yourself.”

He ponders the issue. When others talk about him, they call him “HIM”, putting particular emphasis on the word. So isn’t that already his name? He decides it is, and though some of his siblings say his new name is stupid, they all smile when they say it, so he’s happy enough.

HIM grows quickly, eating far more than his siblings, even the older ones. Eventually, once he’s big enough, they tell HIM it’s time for him to get a job. Suspecting he is a shifter given the complaints of his siblings about his food intake, HIM harasses an old hunter in their neighborhood until he takes HIM on as an apprentice.

As his skill with axes and bows improves, HIM eventually becomes a hunter in his own right. Not only does he hunt enough to feed himself and his makeshift family, he’s eventually able to start selling the excess to bring in some coin. It is during this time period he confirms he is, in fact, a shifter. Luck and skill allow him to take down a dire bear, and after that it is a rare thing for him to be injured.

Never having learned maths nor how to read, HIM is taken advantage of by a few merchants around this time. When he catches on to the severe underpayments he’s been receiving, quite a few butchers go missing and a number of shops are destroyed.

It’s a poor part of town, in Clubs, so rather than confront the boy on the brink of manhood about his actions, the adults teach him. Reading is beyond his ability to care, but he latches onto maths and commerce. It takes less than a year for the man to amass a small fortune. He’s moved out of his childhood home, but he still provides the children living there with food. Eventually, growing weary of hunting daily, he looks for a new way to earn money.

He loans out his fortune: a bit here to help start a business, a bit there so a family can buy a bigger home. When the time comes for him to be paid back, there are few who try to fight back against him, and fewer still who live to tell the tale. While HIM has never been nor will he ever be the smartest man on the block, his ruthlessness and his strength have made him the poster boy for a rags to riches story. 

Years pass, he enters the Spade Arena fights out of boredom and a desire for greater wealth. He wins, he’s the champion, he’s the best in the city... except he isn’t. Keahi Hilo, the prodigy. The strongarm avoids the Arena but HIM corners the other man for a fight back in Clubs, and he loses. They were both Kings so HIM didn’t lose rank, but as friendly competition turns into jealousy a cloud begins to cover him. He soothes his darkness with drink and warm bodies until he is always with one, the other, or both. 

One of these bodies tastes sweet, too sweet. HIM is addicted but it’s not to the man beneath him, it’s to the chrono the other has introduced to his system. It’s during this time his fights become more violent and he earns the title he can never get away from: The Barbarian. 

Addiction grows and logic fades. He’s on a bender when he contracts a witch to take care of his little problem. As Keahi Hilo loses status HIM finds he is not at all satisfied with this victory, because he was not the one bring about the man’s end. His thirst for power fades as he wallows in his own misery and attempts to change. He tries to find the witch again, to get her to reverse what she’s done, but she’s overdosed on chrono and left this world.

He can’t look at himself anymore.

Trying to find who he once was, he visits the home he’s long since ceased helping. The building’s been purchased and the children chased out. The old man who taught him how to hunt died years ago. HIM wants to do something, to change, but he cannot allow himself to become Ace. He does not deserve the rank, not after what he did, so he’ll have to find a different way. Fluctuating wildly between would-be messiah and the neighborhood addict, many in the city cannot decide whether they should idolize him or use him as an example of everything wrong with Clubs.

He funds the resistance, donating his monthly winnings from the Arena as well as a percentage of his underworld gains to help their cause. He donates through proxies, a new one every month so they never realize just how much he’s given them. Perhaps if rankings didn’t exist, men like him wouldn’t step on their brothers to get a leg up. He opens up real orphanages through further proxies still, paying people to take care of the city’s neglected children. He can’t kick his chrono habit, but he does his best to cut back. He’s still a loan shark, but only because he’s in too deep to get out. At least, that’s what he tells himself in his clearer moments, when the red hazing his eyes cools his head and reminds him of his ledger.

The corruption comes to Kadeu. He takes care of his own people and uses his power over the underworld to put pressure on others, forcing contributions to help fix the broken outer wall. He plucks natural-born leaders from their communities and funds their causes, knowing he’s burned too many holes in his own brain to lead the Clubs. His men start referring to themselves as the Barbarians; it’s supposed to be a sign of loyalty so they don’t earn his ire by taking credit for the work he funded, but none of them know how much he hates that name.

Days fill up with decisions he doesn’t want to make. People who should hate him look at him with eyes that beg him to take further action. Even strung out of his mind on chrono he could win a fight against Thagard, he could become the Ace, restore order to the city. Some make excuses for him while others begin to question why they’ve chosen to follow. He doesn’t want this responsibility, he never did. He hired leaders to do these things for him but they keep trying to make him approve plans. He was never supposed to be a real leader, he was only ever meant to be the figurehead so the target would be on his back rather than those crucial to the stability of the faction.

Where had it all gone wrong? Thagard had been a worse Ace than he’d thought, but was it the other shifter’s actions to blame or HIM’s own failure to truly lead? How many water elementalists had died because of that idiotic arrest order? How many business would go belly up thanks to the food requisition orders? Rather than devastate families who ran businesses essential to the Club economy, HIM had placed the burden of food rationing on everyone’s shoulders regardless of station. If he had taken the burden of being Ace, how many more people would be alive? How many more businesses would be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel?

It was too late now, he wasn’t the leader the people needed then, how could they trust him to be the leader they deserved now? Making himself the figurehead of this ramshackle organization of barbarians may have been the worst decision he’d ever made. He wasn’t the man anyone wanted nor the leader the Clubs required, but he knew who was. 

Without a word to his followers he shifts into an eagle and, claws digging into the windowsill of his hideout, he sets off for the Keahi residence.

[pl-panda]

Damienette arranged marriage: part 25

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 part 14 part 15

part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Part 22 Part 23 

Part 24

Damienette arranged marriage: part 25

NEXT

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Tossing her weapon at him and using some of the moves she learned from maman over the years. 

This was like a spark. Immediately after Ladybug’s charge, other heroes also attacked. The battle has begun. At least until there was an ear-piercing cry of pain that got everyone’s attention.

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

During previous encounters with the superheroes Mayura had much less trouble. It was clear that Pink Tigress was much better trained. Nathalie herself was a master martial artist even outside of the suit and her skill only increased when she put on the feathered outfit. But this was something entirely different.

Mayura redirected a very quick jab of the Chakram with her fan, but she had no chance to counterattack because Pink Tigress did not lose balance and instead followed up with low kick. The blue villainess jumped up to avoid it and used the opportunity for a scissor kick of her own. Her opponent reacted in time to cross her hands in front and rebound her, but it only led to further stand-off. They proceeded to meet each other in close quarter, exchanging quick, but viscious strikes. They were pretty evenly matched, at least it looked like that for first minute or so. But with each move it became clearer that even if Mayura had skill to back her up, she lacked in terms of deadliness. Tigress was silent and composed as the fight went on, while the peacock miraculous started to panic. It might have been just three minutes at best, but Nathalie found herself at complete defence, being pushed back constantly. 

While the two women were fighting between themselves, Chat Noir and Ladybug had their own battle going on. Over the course of last month Marinette trained with her mother to utilize her yo-yo as more than just a simple thrown weapon. Before she didn’t really connect her fighting style with the projectile. It sometimes served as a shield for her to block the attacks but offensively it was much harder to utilize. At least until her mother helped her change perspective. The yo-yo was basically a blunt version of rope dart. She could use it both as a projectile as well as at close range. Sometimes the young girl even grabbed the weapon and used it like a stone to add weight to her attacks.

At the same time, it was clear that Chat Noir did not stop training. Marinette kicked herself over and over that she did not recognize clear fencing training before, but right now it was different. Adrien was now fighting with much more aggression than before. He did not back away or dodge the attacks, instead taking them on the weapon or even forearms or legs. He just pushed ahead. At first Ladybug tried to regain control and momentum she had in the beginning, but this new viciousness force her to stay defencive. She rather quickly got pressed to the wall.

“You don’t deserve to be Ladybug!” Chat Noir shouted at her. “Cataclysm!” The pasisian heroine managed to dodge the last second as the black bubbling energy crashed into the wall. The structure crumbled and cracks started to go up and onto the roof. Adrien turned where Ladybug lunged to to avoid his attack and fumed with anger. “You took everything from me Ladybug! You turned her against me! You corrupted her! But it doesn’t matter. She is the true ladybug and not some imposter. After my father is done I will give her your miraculous and we will be the greatest heroes Paris… No! The Wor…” He didn’t finish his speech because Ladybug lunged and pushed him away as a large chunk of debris fell where he just stood. Marinette could be disgusted with what Adrien has become, but deep down she still saw a friend. A friend she would not let die. In the impact, the ring slipped from his finger and rolled away. Adrien wanted to grab it, but a quick punch from his former partner knocked him out cold.

Elsewhere in the room, Viperion just managed to get the akumatized object. He quickly broke it and released the Akuma, causing the gorilla to fall down exhausted. Luka did not have time to focus on this. He turned to where Ryuko and Hawkmoth were going at it. She was a world-class fencer, but somehow Gabriel Agreste could match her and even overpower her. He was pushing the girl back. Then, he suddenly drawn a hidden sword from his cane and lunged at Ryuko. Without second thought, Viperion tossed his lyre like a frisbee to stop the attack. It worked, but he didn’t notice Mayura and Tigress fight getting dangerously close to him. Before he even realize the blue vilanness held him in front of her like a human shield, making it impossible for him to use second chance. 

“Give up Tigress. Or the boy will suffer.” She threatened and to make it more real, she pressed the bladed fan to his neck. “We wouldn’t want to spill any snake blood today, now would we?”

Instead of answering, Pink Tigress tossed her chakram up. The spinning weapon bounced from the roof and fell at Mayura. She had no time to follow up on her threat and instead pushed the boy forward while she jumped back. She did slip the bracelet from his hand at the same time, making him detransform.

Ryuko noted the whole event in the corner of her eye. She was grateful to Luka for helping her, but she would berate the reckless boy later. For someone so composed he rushed in too often. She refocused on her battle. The plan was to keep Hawkmoth busy while other heroes get rid of any support so they could overwhelm the villain. So far it didn’t work as planned. She was on constant defensive.

“Tell me, miss Tsurugi. What would your mother say if she saw you get defeated by a civilian with so little training.” Hawkmoth teased her. “She would be so disappointed in you.” He added in mocking tone. Ryuko withstood the banter without even blinking. She tried to shrug it off, but he started to get to her. He also had to notice that her moves became more sloppy, because Gabriel continued with the mockery. “Or maybe she already resent you for skipping so many classes and trainings to just play hero? I can’t imagine what will she say…” He finally managed to catch her sword in place long enough with his own blade to use the cane he still held in the other hand to strike her arm. The pain made her let go of her weapon, but she made no notable sound. She tried to punch him, but Hawkmoth stepped out of the way and grabbed her choker instead. Kagami detransformed and fell on the ground, panting from exhaustion. 

The whole building was falling apart and more debris now landed. A particularly big chunk would crush the fencer, but Sabine noticed in time. 

“Power Up! Strength!” She jumped to where the girl stood and stopped her from turing into a wet puddle. At the same time, more chunks fell, cutting them off for the most part. 

“Thank you madame.” Kagami bowed while still lying on the ground. “I owe you my life.”

“No worry sweety. Let’s finish it and go skin a cat, okay?” Sabine focused and used her enchanted strength to push the large chunk away and release them. She picked the girl and jumped out. 

In front of her, the scene was mortifying. Hawkmoth held blade at Ladybug’s neck while she was forced to kneel before him. Next to him, Mayura had Luka in similar position. 

“I think that was enough of the show.” The villain commented. You’ve all proven just how strong and heroic you are… But it ends here.” He was about to grab the earrings of Ladybug, but she started to toss around. 

“Hold still girl if you want to see your friend and yourself walk out of here alive!” Mayura threatened her. To enforce the point made by his partner, Hawkmoth pressed the blade closer, drawing some blood. A single droplet traveled along the edge and hit the floor. The heroine felt her whole body go stiff with fear. She silently accepted her fate when suddenly there was an ear-piercing cry of pain behind her. The blade, together with hand that was holding it, fell to the ground. Hawkmoth stumbled holding the stump that used to be his hand. Behind him Damian wiped the blood from his blade.

“Leave. My Wife. Alone!” He barked and turned to Mayura. “The game is over.” 

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell  @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25 @tired-butterfly @toodaloo-kangaroo @redscarlet95 @miukiiu @sassakitty @corabeth11 @vixen-uchiha @lilypos03

[kaaras-adaar]

Every Heartbeat

Characters: Kaaras Adaar, Aith, Stenn, Taali Pre-Inquisition (Kaaras 25 years old)  Warning: Contains profanity, character death, adult themes, alcohol mentions

He didn’t even have time to grieve as she lay there, the gore covering her body. An axe, and a big one. It didn’t matter how powerful the woman had been, she was no match for multiple assailants. No match for a fucking ambush! An ambush which could have very well been avoided. But this was what happened when the majority of a group voted, wasn’t it? And when Kaaras didn’t have the last say in such orders.

 Never again.

 He’d already told himself that this was it. It was over. How could he possibly continue to work for people such as the Ralshokra when they were so rash in their thinking, in their strategies? This was what happened when money was more valuable than a person’s life! And not just any person, but his trainer, his mentor, the woman he’d been training with for years now! Over ten years! And now she was gone within the blink of an eye. How easily a life could be taken…

 It was a miracle that he was alive himself, and he’d managed to take a few men out, but when it came down to it, Kaaras didn’t really blame the enemy—especially when they knew no better than to see Saarebas as a savage oxwoman who would kill any man who crossed her path. She looked the part, yes, but she was like a second mother to him. She had been there for him when his father had died, when he could not look his mother in the eye after it all happened. She’d never just been a mentor to him, but family. And there was another one to add to the damn list! Another name on his fucking hands. This would have never have happened if he’d put his damn foot down harder! If he’d been calling the shots. If he’d stood up and made his point clearer. Of course… he turned to self blame. Kaaras always did.

 He warned them! He warned them that the mission was dangerous. And yet, to a mercenary, nothing was dangerous provided the coin was enough payment. And they’d been given such a large sum upfront that of course Taali wouldn’t deny it. Greedy. Fucking greedy! No coin, no riches, was ever worth someone’s life!

 Shaking, Kaaras panted as he marched his way back to the meeting point. The mission was done, they’d get their coin, but at what cost? If he knew that this would have been the outcome, he’d have never agreed to take the job. Alas… time was something he knew he could never turn back. It was too late, Saarebas was dead, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back.

 But there was something he could do to make damn sure that this would never happen again…

 Pushing the door open, the young mage moved over to their captain, and eyes were fiery red, not just because that’s the colour they were, but they were angry, burning, and perhaps even tear-stung. He’d not even been able to retrieve her body yet, not in the mix of everything.

 “Are you happy now?” he barked. “A valuable part of this team has been killed! That didn’t have to happen, and you all know damn well that it could have been prevented!” To say he was furious was a damn well understatement. The young qunari was deeply upset and disturbed by the outcome.

  Taali stood up, the woman taller than him—although it didn’t take much for any qunari to be taller than Kaaras. He was the runt of the littler, even if he was a good build and a strong mage.

 “Calm down, Adaar, you got your coin.” She shoved the little bag into his hands, and it was immediately tossed onto the floor, clinking with a heavy thud, just to signify the amount that was within. An easy job never got heavy coin.

 Kaaras seethed. “I don’t want your coin! I want Saarebas alive and well!” Which very well wasn’t going to happen, and he knew that. It didn’t stop the words from spewing out of his mouth, thick with daggers in her direction. Because, yes, it was her fault that this happened. Bad orders were made, and as the captain of this mercenary band, she had to take responsibility of the lives within.

 What was there of the group moved a little uneasily at the scuffle that was going on between the two. Taali’s eyes moved to the elf that had joined up with Kaaras, his adopted sister of sorts. But when she went to put a hand to his arm, he just threw it off. Temperamental mage, he was. He’d always been hot-headed, and she knew that the moment they started working together, but Kaaras’ heart had always been in the right place. In her eyes… that wasn’t always a good thing. It got in the way of their work. Such as now.

 She clicked her tongue in a scoff. “Look, Kaaras, you knew the risks of being a mercenary when you joined Saarebas and her company before coming here. I don’t know how they do things in Ferelden, but the Marches are different.  A lot more people here, too, and a lot more bad people. A lot more coin and a hellova lot more competition. We got the job done–,”

 “Is that all you care about? That you got some fucking coin!?” Kaaras’ voice was strained, disbelief cracking through. He couldn’t believe it. He knew that things were different up north, he also knew that mercenary life wasn’t always the most ethical in nature, but this was drawing a line.

 He drew a heavy breath, hands balling into fists as he tried to keep his temper down to a minimum. It was to no avail. He didn’t like being angry, in fact, he hated it. He feared his anger turned him into a monster, like so many people had said about him, even when calm. He was a qunari, he was a savage. He thought that the humans of Ferelden had just been cruel, but this… this made him worry that perhaps what they said about his kind was in fact true. And that shattered his heart.

 He’d worked so hard to not be that image, to be a kindhearted individual, giving and compassionate. And now, what stood before him was the opposite. She cared for nothing but her coin. Even her people were expendable. It didn’t matter so long as her pockets were heavy and her sword was strapped to her back. It made him sick to the stomach.

 “One of your people died today, Taali, and you… you can’t show at least a little bit of sympathy?” Why was he even bothering with it? He’d seen it before. People died in companies every day, just as bandits did. And honestly, he was starting to feel like that’s exactly what this company was. A group of thugs. The only difference was that they got paid, whereas bandits simply raided for the sake of it. Perhaps that was even worse.

 He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t stay… Not when it was clearly alright that people died so long as they got a little coin in their purse. That wasn’t what he stood for, and it never would be. Kaaras simply wasn’t the type. He became a mercenary to help his mother survive, so he and Aith could grow up and provide for themselves and they could keep a place they could call home. He knew it wasn’t easy work, and he knew it was dangerous, but he couldn’t work like this and feel proud of himself anymore. He felt no more than a common thug, and that went against everything he believed in.

  Taali shook her head and gruffly sighed. “What do you want me to do, Adaar? Sing a song for her? That’s not my thing, and it’s not gonna bring her back either. We move on and we do the next job. If you want a eulogy, then talk to Stenn.” She threw her thumb over her shoulder.

 “Hey, have some respect!” the small elf snapped from beside Kaaras. She could already tell that Kaaras was at breaking point, and Taali wasn’t making it any better with her quips. She wasn’t going to sit by and let her speak about Saarebas like that. That was her friend, too. She may deal with her grieving a little differently than Kaaras, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t upset that the woman had died.

 This was just getting tiring. “Stenn, I’m done, can you please deal with your boyfriend?” She gave a huff and sat herself back down, eyeing the coin that was on the floor from where Kaaras had thrown it, but Aith saw her and snatched it up, shoving it into her pocket. Smart girl. Kaaras, in his own tiff, probably would have just left it there. At least someone in the damn family knew how things were. Took an ex Dalish to as well. Balls, Kaaras could be so dumb sometimes.

  Stenn had been sitting at the table within the room they were all in. Currently, the older qunari male was nursing a tankard of ale. It was around about now that he’d usually be writing his next ballad after a job well done. Unfortunately, he didn’t like the outcome of this one, but he also had been on Taali’s side for this mission. Sometimes, people were lost, and there wasn’t much to be done about it.

 Alas, he cared deeply for Kaaras, and had for the last year. The young man had been… troublesome when he’d come to them, moody, drinking, guarded. Incredibly guarded. It took patience with Kaaras, patience that Stenn had, and he’d fallen for the young lad. Still, it was times like this that he was reminded that Kaaras absolutely wore his heart on his sleeve, and at times it was… irrational.

 Standing, he gestured for Kaaras to follow him, taking his hand carefully. “Come with me, we’ll take a walk outside, get some fresh air.” His smile was gentle, tender, and he saw Kaaras’ eyes flicker back to Taali. He knew that the Vashoth needed time away from the situation to settle.

 “C’mon.” It was a soft, encouraging order, and his hand moved to Kaaras’ back, quietly ushering him out of the door. When there was no argument from the blonde, the corners of his eyes creased in a smile, the warm, city air hitting his skin when they stepped outside.

 Kaaras took a deep breath, and there were tears in his eyes now, the shock of Saarebas’ death finally starting to settle in. He swallowed thickly, and desperately tried not to let the tears slip down his cheeks, looking away from his lover. If there was someone other than Aith, surely it was Stenn who would agree with him.

 “I’m sorry…” he murmured, putting a hand to his face and trying to wipe away the tears from his glazed eyes. They continued to come, though.

  Stenn shook his head, frowning. “Oh, Kaaras, don’t apologise.” He took the man’s hand and lowered it, only to see Kaaras lower his head and close his eyes, the tears being forced from his eyes. He pulled him into a careful embrace, and then he felt the smaller man’s sobs shake through his body.

 Losing someone was never easy. Taali didn’t have a lot of sympathy, no, and she could have dealt with the situation better. But Stenn had to agree that they got their coin and the job was done. It had its losses, yes, but… they all knew the risks—including Kaaras.

 Pulling him tight, Stenn moved his hands over Kaaras’ back, cooing to him softly. “I’m sorry, Kaaras. Taali should not be so rough, but you know her. She’s a ‘get the job done’ kind of woman. It’s nothing against you.”

 Kaaras’ eyes clenched shut against the warmth of the other man’s chest and he pressed his face into the crook of his neck before he withdrew, tear stained eyes looking at the older man. “Don’t… don’t stick up for her. She knows what she is doing. She just doesn’t care.”

 “That’s not true, Kaaras.” He put his hand to the man’s stubble-covered cheek, eyes caring and soft.

 “Bullshit. You saw her just as well as I did back there. She didn’t even bat an eye at knowing someone died.” Kaaras wiped his face down and pushed the tears back. Not here, not like this. He would mourn when he could, but he wasn’t about to bring Stenn down with it, too.

 “Maker’s breath, I… She’s still back there, Stenn. I… I have to get her body. I have to burn it.”

 The Ferelden tradition, Stenn knew. Burning the bodies so they did not catch the Taint of the Blight. “What Taali said back there… about me saying some words. I can if you wish, Kaaras, I don’t mind.”

 Kaaras shook his head, sniffing softly. “No… it’s… it’s alright.” He looked back up at the older man and offered him a sad smile. “It’s something Aith and I should do alone. Just… wait for me, please? I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight.” And he was still furious about Taali, but there was little he could do about that now. At least, she was out of his sight.

  Stenn nodded, and he planted a kiss on the mage’s forehead. “I will wait up for you.”

 With a soft sigh, Kaaras licked his lips and pulled his shoulders back, putting a brave face on. He needed to go and collect Aith, and then they’d travel back to where he’d moved Saarebas’ body. He should have carried it back with him, but it had been too risky. Now, the woman’s corpse sat alone, bloodied and gory. He’d at least do right by her, by saying a final goodbye and burning what remained.

*****

 It was late by the time Kaaras got back in, and the tavern they were staying in had all but died down. There were some common folk who were still drinking, and Kaaras could smell the alcohol in his nostrils. It took every ounce of his strength in such a state of mind to just continue walking up the stairs. He desperately wanted a drink, but all his hard work would be for nothing. He couldn’t lose that tonight, too.

 The smell of ash and burning was against his clothes. The scent of death, blood and gore. He needed a bath, urgently, and he wanted to be alone. He wanted to be back in Ferelden, home and away from this place. He wanted to be away from the Ralshokra and the city. Fuck, he hated the city so much! It was smoggy and reeked of plague illness and death, as well as drunkards. He missed the smell of hay and grass, the farm back home. But every day he was away from Ferelden was more coin he earned for his mother so she could still keep that farm.

 Tugging his collar undone, the Vashoth pushed the door open to see Stenn laying on the bed, quill and a pot of ink there. He was writing a tale, he assumed. But even right now, Kaaras couldn’t deal with listening to such sweet and symbolic words. He was tired, so tired, and his eyes stung from what felt like a fountain of never ending tears, the salt drying on his lashes.

 At the sight of his lover, Stenn leant up, putting his quill aside. “Did everything go alright?” he asked. “Do you wish to speak of it?”

 Kaaras just shook his head. “It’s done… that’s… that’s all that matters right now.” He made his way over to the small desk inside the tiny room, the boards beneath him creaking as he did so. It wasn’t quite over, though. Kaaras had had time to think when he and Aith were there with what remained of Saarebas. They did more than just think, too.  

 He couldn’t be here anymore. He couldn’t work with the Ralshokra anymore. It hadn’t been the first time his ethical conscious had prodded him and he’d felt uneasy doing a job. Things were different in Ferelden, with Saarebas leading them. The jobs they did still meant hard work, but they weren’t… like this. Breaking the law wasn’t something Kaaras enjoyed doing, even if it was for coin. And while not all jobs were like that, he knew, there was still enough to make him feel uneasy, and unhappy. He wanted to be proud of his work, and here, he simply couldn’t.

 Sensing the tension within the other man, Stenn pushed himself up from the bed and approached the younger qunari. “Kaaras, I know you’re going through the mourning stages, but–,”

 “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Stenn blinked, trying to analyse the look across his lover’s face as one of confusion spread across his own.

 “I… I can’t work with this company.” Kaaras swallowed thickly and folded his arms against his chest, his expression stern, but still hurting. The sound of his voice was more trying to convince himself than anyone else.

  Stenn felt his brows furrow. Because Saarebas had died? Was it all because of that? “Kaaras, you’re grieving–,”

 “No.” The Vashoth shook his head. “It’s not that, Stenn. It’s… it’s the way this company runs itself. Someone died today, someone close, and a part of this team, and Taali just shrugs it off like we mean nothing! Like life itself means nothing!”

 His hands slapped back down to his sides. “You’ve been here longer than I have. Don’t you see how that’s not alright? It wouldn’t have mattered if it were someone else, and it’s not just because Saarebas was my mentor,” although that was pretty serious, considering, “I am here to make a difference, to try and better this world. How am I doing that when people are dying?”

  Stenn shook his head, putting a hand to Kaaras’ shoulder. “Bad things happen, Kaaras, you can’t save everyone. You know this,” he explained. “You’re upset, and you are hurting, and I understand that, but please take a moment to listen to yourself. What you are saying. You’d give up your work here, because something bad happened? Because we lost one man.”

 One man? That woman was his family! And Stenn was…

 Kaaras’ brows arched as he watched the expression form across his lover’s visage. How did Stenn not understand, because what he was saying was simply that he was upset because someone died. That someone wasn’t just a someone to him! And that someone could have been any other man or woman in this company and he’d still feel the same! And they should be mourning! People weren’t just items that got slashed to pieces every damn day, they were people!. Real, living people!

 “And you’d stay? Knowing that your captain is a heartless, greedy, coin mongering bitch?” he asked.

 The expression on Stenn’s face hardened at the name calling. “Kaaras, that’s uncalled for.”

 “No, you sticking up for her is uncalled for!” He shook his head in disbelief. “Because that’s what she is. She doesn’t care for anything other than her coin! And perhaps it’s unfair for me to call her a bitch, but you stand there and tell me she isn’t. Because every mission we go on, she’s always been up her arse over it. She doesn’t listen, she doesn’t care who gets injured, so long as the job is done. I will not stand by when coin becomes more important than people’s wellbeing!”

 The older man’s frown didn’t disappear. “This is how we’ve always done it in the Ralshokra, Kaaras, and when you joined, you knew what was at stake. I am sorry that Saarebas didn’t make it, but you are acting like a child.”

 Kaaras’ ears pricked back and his jaw grew tight. So he was a child because he cared? Because he didn’t want to be part of a group that was fine with their members dying off so long as a job got done and coin went in their pockets?

 To say he was disappointed was quite the understatement. He was pissed off and hurt, and even more, he felt betrayed that Stenn could stand there and call him a child for his compassion. He knew that his temper could get the better of him at times; he also knew that his moods made him hard to be around. But he would never take back the fact that he cared about people more than the weight of his coin purse.

 Stubborn til the end, he stood his ground. “I have made my choice, Stenn. I’m leaving tonight. Aith and I, and a few others who have agreed with me.” Which was why he’d taken so long to get back tonight. He’d spoken to a few of the other members of the company, and they agreed that they could no longer take part in the group’s activity.

 A few others? Stenn’s expression turned to concern, but he was just as stubborn. Kaaras was still young, and highly emotional. He had gotten better now that he was off the hooch, but even then, the man was exceptionally emotional at times. He’d come back, surely. Once the morning came around, all of this would blow over. Kaaras, after all, needed the coin, despite his caring nature. He was also (usually) a reasonable man.

 “Kaaras, I can’t stop you from leaving, but please sleep on this. What you are saying is… unreasonable.” He chose his words carefully, not to stir the other up again. “Taali may not be the most tender of leaders, but you can’t deny that she does get the job done, and that that work has made you wealthy in your stay here. What do you expect? For her to beg for you and the others to come back? Begging is not in her nature.”

 “No,” Kaaras stated calmly, but still blunt in tone. “I don’t expect anything, Stenn. I already said I have made my decision. We are leaving come morn, and you are welcome to come with us.” Part of him wanted to beg that the older man would come with him. Was he foolish to expect his lover to follow him? Perhaps. But this was not his choice to make. He’d already made his, and he was leaving. If Stenn wanted to stay (and he hoped he did not), then there was little he could do.

 What was he saying? Stenn took a breath and tried to make sense of it all. Damnit, the man was stubborn! But he couldn’t just up and leave. Unlike Kaaras, this was his life, and it had been for years now. He couldn’t just stand there and give it all up because Kaaras was being stubborn and throwing a tantrum.

 Putting a hand to his forehead, he looked back at the ruby eyes. They were clearly waiting for an answer. Stenn had none. For once in his life, he didn’t know what to say. No poem or ballad could get him out of this.

 Kaaras saw it, though, and he felt his chest clench tight before his heart fell to his very bowels. “You don’t need to say it,” he commented, “your silence and hesitation is enough.” Stenn wanted to stay.

 When Kaaras turned to grab his things, Stenn pulled his arm back. “Wait, Kaaras, please reconsider.”

 “There is nothing to reconsider. It’s done… We’re… we’re done.” And it burned to say it, and his heart shattered into a million tiny pieces as the words escaped his mouth. The anger from his expression was gone, morphed into something else. But he couldn’t stay here, and if Stenn couldn’t come then that was it. The both of them were simply too hung in their ways.

 “Don’t do this, Kaaras. We can work something out. Let me talk to Taali for you, she might listen to me, I’ve known her longer,” he tried to explain. Damnit, the man didn’t have to leave! And yet, it seemed that this had been something Kaaras had been considering for quite some time. Maybe this was just the thing that pushed him off the precipice.

 “And what? Have her ignore you, or worse, lie to you? Nothing will change, Stenn. You said it yourself, you’ve known her longer. Look me in the eyes and tell me that it will change, that she will change.” When the other man said nothing, Kaaras just nodded. That was his answer once more, Stenn couldn’t tell him anything else, nor could he convince him that things would be different. He needed out.

 “Taali and I are too different, and that—that’s fine. I’m not asking for her to roll over, and I’m not about to mutiny against her. This is her company, Stenn. Not mine. But I can no longer work for her, and that is my choice. Just as it is yours to stay here.”

 There was silence between them for a moment, and Stenn tried to think of something he could say that would make Kaaras change his mind. Nothing came, though…    

 “I’ll write to you… We can meet up, catch up with one another.”

 That only stung more. Kaaras couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it to himself and he couldn’t do it to Stenn. If he’d not cried all the tears his body was capable of producing when they burned Saarebas, then he’d be crying this second. But he also didn’t want to, he didn’t want to make Stenn feel guilty, he didn’t want to manipulate him, he didn’t want any of this! But he had to do something.

 Closing his trunk, he stood back up and turned to the man he’d almost said he loved on so many occasions, and the words still lingered there at the tip of his very tongue. They wanted to come out so badly, he wanted to tell the man that he loved him. If he said it now, though… that was only cruel. Cruel to the both of them.

 “Thank you,” he said instead, his eyes raw and tired, but honest. “For everything you ever did for me, Stenn. You helped me more than anyone in this world has, and I will never forget that.” Before he broke down there and then, he opened the door and made his way out of the room as quickly as he could. If Stenn tried to stop him, he didn’t know what he’d do, and he couldn’t afford it right now.

 He was wrong, there were still tears there, and they were quick to blur his vision as he made his way down the stairs. When he got outside, he pressed his back to the wooden wall and sunk to the floor in a crouch, his hands covering his face. Why’d he do it? Why’d he say goodbye? Fuck, he didn’t even say goodbye! But he couldn’t stay here anymore, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t work like this, and it wasn’t just him either. He had to look after his sister. If Taali ended up putting her on a mission and she got herself killed… He’d never forgive himself. The only reason Aith was here was because of him.

 This was the right choice. He knew it, Aith knew it, and the others who agreed knew it, too. Taali was restless, brash in thinking and eventually she’d get everyone killed, including herself! And as much as it hurt to do what he just did, he could no longer stay. And it was clear that Stenn couldn’t go with him.

 Drawing his scarf up around his face, he wiped his eyes with it, the scent of the other man still clinging to it from their time shared together. There was nothing he could do now, though, but move forward.

 Taking a deep and controlled breath, he pushed himself back up, swallowing and wiping his face. He’d not forget the nights spent of passion with him, the soft words and even softer kisses. He’d not forget the nightmares and shakes he suffered, sweating while detoxing from alcohol and feeling utterly useless while Stenn encouraged and supported him every step of the way.

 He had become a better man because of Stenn, and he would never, ever stop thanking him for that. But he also had to keep being that better person, and staying here… he could not achieve that. It didn’t matter how much his heart ached right now, from two losses this night, he had a family to protect, to care for and look after, and that included himself.  

 Gathering himself, he took his trunk and headed towards the meeting spot they’d previously spoken of. It would be empty now, but he couldn’t return to the tavern. He’d wait for morning to come, and a new day would dawn. A new life for him also. It hurt now, but in due time, Kaaras knew that the pain would make him stronger, and that it was time to run his own life.

[janeyre]

i could never look away: 1/2

otp: ten x rose

word count: 6229

summary: rose survived doomsday. this close call only brings her and the doctor closer together.

AO3

Rose Tyler’s knuckles grasped desperately to the lever in her hand. She’s outsmarted every challenge she’s ever faced, and this time would be no different, she told herself.

But her mind was filling with an overwhelming sense of dread. Over her shoulder, the Void pulled at her with all its might, a might almost stronger than hers. Every muscle in her body ached. Every fiber of her being was crying out in desperate pain.

She turned back to look at the Doctor. He was so far away, she could barely make him out, but she saw the fear on his face and felt her own fear spill through her veins like poison. She could hardly breathe.

The wind whipped against her, which was not helping. With every passing second she felt more and more dread surrounding her. The white of the walls seemed to be growing dark and closing in.

Her finger slipped.

“Doctor!” she cried out, but her mouth didn’t make a sound. She let out a shriek, silent.

Her hands were ripped suddenly from the clamp, the pull of the Void too strong.

“Doctor!” She seemed to fall in slow motion.

Very distantly, she heard, “Rose.”

There was a weight on her shoulder. She felt like she couldn't breathe deep enough.

“Rose.” Clearer now.

It was like something was pulling her up, up…..

“Rose, you’re okay.”

Rose’s eyes flew open. Her heart pounded in her chest like a prisoner trying to break free of its cage. She gasped for air as her eyes flew around the room wildly.

She was in her room, on the TARDIS. She took another deep breath. She had been so scared, of losing the Doctor, and her life among the stars and…..

“You alright?”

She looked to her right. The Doctor. Thank God. She tackled him in a hug as she willed her heart to stop hammering.

“Yeah, jus’ a bad dream.” She let out a low sigh. “It was about today, an’.... What else could have happened, if…”

“I know,” the Doctor said. He really did know -- he’d seen all the timelines twisting in that very moment, and if he wouldn’t have thought to tie her to the clamp…. He shivered. Looking at the timelines now scared him just as much as it did then, even though the danger had already passed. The thought of losing Rose was sickening, and the idea that it could have become a reality so easily was even worse.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He pulled away a little to look at her. “I wasn’t really sleeping. It’s okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged. Rose had a shy look on her face that the Doctor knew wasn’t usual. What had happened today (or rather, what could have happened) had really shaken her. It broke his hearts to see her like this.

“I just…” she paused, “I can’t stop thinking ‘bout it. I close my eyes, and I can't keep my mind from drifting there and worrying, until I’m all worked up again.” She let out a heavy sigh. “It’s silly, I know, I know that it’s all okay now. But I can’t stop…” she shook her head. “I can’t get it out of my mind. I can’t sleep.”

The Doctor studied her for a moment.

He knew exactly what would help, but he didn’t know if Rose would like it.

“I think the emotional centers of your brain need a break, hm? They were pushed to their limits today, and are now working themselves into overdrive trying to process everything, it’s why those memories keep resurfacing no matter how much you try to push them down.” He steeled himself. “I could, uhm, well, I could help, with that, if you wanted? I’d have to go into your mind of course, and I know how that makes you feel, so if that makes you uncomfortable, that’s okay.”

“Makes me uncomfortable?”

“Well, on our first adventure, the TARDIS was translating in your head for you and you said you didn’t like it,” he said, a bit confused.

Rose let out a small laugh. “I just didn’t like that it all happened without my consent, Doctor. I’m thankful that I’ve got the old girl in my head.” She watched him for a moment. She made sure she locked eyes with him as she said, “I trust you,” and brought his hands up to her temples.

The Doctor knew he would never stop being amazed by Rose, but he still couldn’t help being…. well, amazed. That she trusted him like that was beyond words.

“You’ll feel me at the edge of your mind,” he said. “Just let me in.”

Sure enough, Rose felt a tingle at the edge of her conscience, as if someone were knocking on a door only she knew about. She imagined the Doctor on the other side, and threw it open.

She could tell the moment he stepped into her thoughts.

Is this alright? he asked.

Yeah.

Rose watched (or rather, felt) as he moved through her mind, looking around. The minute he found what he was looking for she knew, because all her unease and anxiety about the past day was suddenly abating behind a wave of reassurance and comfort. It was like crawling into bed and cuddling up beneath fluffy blankets after an exhausting day. She couldn’t help but bask for a moment in how good it felt.

Then, she realized something. If the Doctor could do this for her, surely she could do this for him, too.

Rose observed him a bit more, then turned to go the way he’d come from, back to his mind. Since the connection between the two of them was already open, she stepped through, delicately as she could. She didn’t know exactly what she was doing, so she moved as lightly as possible.

She looked around just as he had, for anything that seemed…. Hurt. In pain. Today’s events weren’t that hard to spot, because they were at the forefront of his mind. She moved a little closer, and contemplated what to do for a moment before taking action.

Rose focused hard on the pain she felt in him, and the fear, and drew it as close to her as she could. She wasn’t exactly sure how this worked, but she projected the same sort of reassurance and comfort that she had felt from him. She imagined that his thoughts were a big group of somethingand she was drawing it in for a hug as tight as she could.

Out of the corner of her eye, something else caught her attention. The fear of loss from today seemed to stem from something else, something bigger, like a weed that had found a place to grow in the crack in the sidewalk. She followed the thread to its source, to a memory she hadn’t been a part of.

Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with grief and hurt like nothing she had ever seen. Scenes of people screaming and crying, and flames, and unbelievable pain, like nothing she had ever seen flashed before her. Surrounding it all was shame so powerful Rose felt like she was drowning.

And she knew exactly what this memory must be.

The Time War.

The one thing the Doctor never talked about.

Finally, she really, really understood why. If it was this painful of a memory, she couldn’t blame him for pushing it away as far as it would go.

His memories from today lead her here because he had already lost everything, and he couldn’t stand to lose her too.

Her heart felt like it was about to shatter in her very chest. If she were still in the physical world, she would have had tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t imagine carrying this much sadness. She couldn’t believe the Doctor had so much contempt for himself.

Her Doctor, who had saved her life on numerous occasions. Her Doctor, who had given her some of the best days of her life. Who had shown her true joy and complete happiness. Who had given her the stars and the most wonderful things she had ever seen. Who would give everything to keep her safe. Who had accompanied her through some of the lowest and scariest parts of her life like there was no place he’d rather be.

Her favorite person in the universe.

There was the sorrow she felt from his memories, but on top of that there was the pain she felt for him.

With all her might, Rose tried to gather up any pain or sadness or shame and draw it as close to her as possible. She was on her knees, giving as much love as she possibly could. She’d do anything to fix this for him.

Rose felt the Doctor’s conscience startle.

Rose? He sounded alarmed almost.

She’d been so lost in sympathy for the Doctor, she’d completely forgotten how far she’d wandered into his mind. With a hurried final burst of comfort, she retreated as fast as she could out and into the physical world.

When she opened her eyes, she found the Doctor staring at her in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry Doctor, I know I got carried away, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“No, Rose, it’s okay, I was just surprised. What were you up to?”

She bit her lip and looked away. ‘Well, you were helping me, and it felt so good, and I thought, surely I can do the same for you. So I went back the way you came, and found your memories of today, and I tried to heal it, but then there was…. Something else, attached to it, and it was so much deeper, and sadder, and I…. I knew what it was, the one thing you never talk about, and I just…” She could feel her throat closing up.

“It’s okay.” The Doctor smiled softly at her. “You just what?”

She let out a shaky breath. “I just wanted to make it better.” Her voice wavered and cracked on the last syllable, her lip trembling.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have ventured that deep, I know that’s private. I’m so sorry, Doctor. I just…” She remembered the pain and the grief and felt her heart breaking all over again. “I… I never knew…. I would do anything to make you feel better, Doctor, there’s so much you don’t know about yourself, about how good you are, I wish I could take some of that sadness from you.”

Finally, she ventured a glance back at him. His eyes were wide. She watched him for a moment, before --

He sat up abruptly, turning and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed so he was facing away from her.

Oh, no , she thought. I should have known not to mention it, it’s his greatest insecurity and I’ve just gone wandering right through it like it’s nothing, dredging it all back up again. She wished she could take it back. She couldn’t imagine how hard this was for him.

“Doctor?” she tried softly. Nothing.

Carefully, she sat up and scooted next to him, and waited a moment to see if he would move away. He didn’t.

She chanced a look at his face to see, was he angry? Was he scared?

No, he was crying.

Rose had never seen the Doctor cry.

Oh, god, I’ve really mucked it up. He tries to do one nice thing for me, and I go bringing up his trauma. Scenes of the Doctor shying away from Rose amidst anything sensitive came rushing into her mind. He’s gonna send me away , she thought. There’s no way I can come back from this.  

“Doctor,” she took an uneven breath. “I’m so sorry. If I would have thought better for even a second, I wouldn’t have done that. I know how hard it is for you, and I never should have gone just traipsing through your mind. I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor said nothing for a moment, and scrubbed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Then, ever so subtly, he shook his head.

What?

“That’s not it,” he said, ever so quietly.

“Then what is?”

The Doctor swallowed thickly. He thought of turning to look at Rose, but he didn’t know how he could meet her gaze. She had seen the whole of him, who he really was, and yet…

He felt her place a hand on his back, and his breath shuddered in his lungs in reply. He didn’t deserve her.

“I’m here for you, just take your time.”

At that, another cry built up in his chest, and he tried to swallow it back. He could feel his whole body shaking.

How could he tell her? How could he even begin to process that, after seeing his darkest, most terrible moments, she wanted nothing but to help him heal? To draw him closer? He couldn’t think of how he’d ever look her in the eyes again. She knew who was, now. Knew that he was a murderer. Knew all his deepest shame, and all the grief that he carried with him like clothes on his back.

She saw him.

And somehow, she didn’t want to look away.

The Doctor drew in a shuddering breath. “I never…. Thought that anyone could see what I’ve done…. Who I am… and want to get closer, not farther away.”

Rose’s mind took a second to catch up.

So, he wasn’t mad then.

The air whooshed out of her lungs.

“Doctor, of course I do.” She scooted closer to him. “I made my choice that I am gonna stay with you, and that didn’t mean I wanted to spend my forever with someone I was going to get only sort of close with.”

She looked at him again, the man who had seen the rise and fall of civilizations, saved lives, felt the turn of the Earth and made time bend to his will. The man who lived the loneliest life in the universe. The man she’d do anything for, who she wanted to spend every day for the rest of her life with. The man who she….

Rose took a deep breath. She had to tell him. He had to know. After everything they had been through at Canary Wharf, and all they could have lost.

“I… I know this isn’t really your thing, but… I love you, Doctor. And I mean it, because loving someone means loving every part of them, no matter what. How could I ever look at a part of you that’s wounded and resent you for it?” She took another breath to steady herself. “Loving you means I'm going to always try and help you get better. Always. When... when I said I wanted to stay with you forever, this is what I meant. I’m not about to let you be stuck with all this sadness if I can help shoulder some of it.”

The weight of her words hit the Doctor like a train and he couldn’t help himself from looking up immediately to watch her face.

Shit , Rose thought, that was way too much. He’s gonna be so overwhelmed, and he doesn’t think of me like that, and --

The Doctor tackled her in a hug.

She could tell that he was crying, and he was holding her so, so tight.

Relief bloomed in her chest.

“Shh… you’re okay, Doctor, it’s okay. I’m here for you. It’s all gonna be okay.”

They sat like that for a while, clinging to each other. Rose rubbed the Doctor’s back while he tried to pull himself together, which was admittedly difficult. He was so overwhelmed by everything Rose had said and done in the past few minutes, and he didn’t deserve an ounce of it. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t think she was the best thing that ever happened to him. And that certainly didn’t mean he would ever let her go.

Finally, the Doctor pulled away slowly, sitting up and turning his head away to wipe his eyes, more than a little ashamed of what a mess he was. But before he could stay that way for too long, Rose’s hand was on his shoulder, turning him back to face her. He looked at her shyly as she began to speak.

“If there’s ever something I can do to help you feel better, I want you to tell me.” Rose took his hand in hers, and he squeezed it. “If that means going into your mind every night to give you, I don't know, good vibes or whatever, I'll do it. I care about you, Doctor.” Despite her heart pounding a beat like a thunderstorm, she still gave him a gentle, reassuring smile. “We’re gonna get through this together, you ‘n me, no matter what.”

For perhaps the thousandth time that evening, the Doctor felt the air leave his lungs. He squeezed her hand again and closed what little space there was between them.

“Rose… I love you, too. I’m so sorry you didn’t know sooner.”

All she could hear was static.

He loved her.

Their eyes met and they shared watery smiles, looking at each other through their eyelashes and blushing like there was fire in their cheeks.

Rose leaned in, just a little, and wasn’t mistaken if she thought the Doctor might have been leaning in too. He stopped just before her lips, as if waiting for a sign.

She squeezed his hands, as if to say, I want this too.

Delicately, with all the reverence of a man about to enter the gates of heaven, he kissed her.

It was unlike any kiss Rose had ever had. Never had she felt so much love radiating off such a small gesture. Never had she wanted so desperately to return that love in full force.

When they pulled away, they were grinning at each other like idiots. The Doctor couldn’t keep from looking at Rose in complete awe. She was the answer to all his prayers. He would do anything for her.

They sat for a while, hugging and kissing and smiling before they finally crawled back under the covers. Rose snuggled up right against the Doctor’s chest, wrapping her arms around him and placing a kiss to whatever part of his body was nearest. He drew her as close to him as he could.

“Good night, Doctor. I love you,” she murmured. He could hear the smile in her voice.

‘Good night, sweet Rose.” He kissed her on the head. “I love you too.”

[futurewriter2000]

Euphoria - pt. 6

A/N: I don’t know what to say about this one. Just to say I know how real fear feels and it’s worse than I described it but the angsty fight could be angstier.

XX

It didn’t take James long to notice something was continuesly on your mind. 

In two days you seemed to wear baggy clothes and he couldn’t understand why. They weren’t his T-shirts. You returned all of them. They weren’t Remus’ either but when he asked around you didn’t have a new boyfriend as well. They seemed quite oversized, covering all of your body and barely leaving an inch of skin in sight. 

You kept being alone, distant. He could remember you always talked to everybody, never afraid if somebody new or old approached you. You always kept a smile on your face and whenever somebody came close, you put your book down and started up a conversation. Now? Now when someone sat next to you in the common room or in class, you just kept to yourself, nodding and simpering when they talked. 

You didn’t eat in the Great Hall anymore. He couldn’t know if you ate anything at all and he couldn’t know if you were starving yourself from your baggy clothes. 

From your perspective it was quite different. You didn’t bother with James and Remus anymore, or anyone from their friend group. They were the least important thing on your mind. All you thought about was how to not see Mulciber. How to avoid him at all costs. Every day. From the minute you woke up to the second you fell asleep. It terrfied you. It put a knot in your stomach and you walked with an odd, terrifying feeling inside of you. 

Class- dorm. Your only destinations. No Great Hall, no courtyard, no walk by the lake and definetly not library.

There was nothing wrong with you. There wasn’t. There truly wasn’t. - You kept telling yourself that. One thing you did know. You were constantly afraid. 

James was now contemplating whether he should go walk to the girl, curled up in a corner of the sofa near the fire, looking so damn adorable with the big-baggy sweater he hated and adored at the same time on you. Your eyes were gently reading the pages of the book meanwhile your fingers placed with a necklace- wait! 

He narrowed his eyes at the necklace and...and it wasn’t the necklace he gave you. It just wasnt the gentle pink heart- rather a stunning amethyst stone, hugged by thorny silver vines. 

What- why? - questions kept running through his head and he kept getting angrier because of it meanwhile you were just sitting there, reading. 

“Hey.” 

You looked up to see James standing in front of you. There was a frown on his lips and eyes looking directly at yours. 

“Hi?” you questioned with a quirk of your eyebrow. 

“Uhm... why... I mean what... what are you doing?” he kept stammering, sittig down next to you and ruffling his hair. 

“Reading.” you replied and showed him the book. 

“What are you reading?” 

Confused with his sudden decision of caring, you decided to answer quick and clear. “Book.”

“What kind?”

“Autobiography.”

“About?” 

“Henri Charriere.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

There was silence for a while as the two of you just watched each other for no appearent reason except making the air more awkward. 

“Okay, so you know I’m full of shit.” he said, ruffling his hair again and leaning back. 

“Pretty much.” you kept at your quick and clear answers. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning elbows on his knees and looking at you with concern in his eyes. 

“Nothing.” you said, opening the book again. 

“I’ve known you all my life, (y/n). I know when something is wrong.” he raised his voice a tone, showing you he was serious about all of his words. 

“There is nothing wrong. Now leave it.” you raised your voice as well, closing your book with a big thud and glaring at him. 

He threw his head in front, forcing a defeated smile on his lips and getting up. “You know... every time you said something you didn’t want to tell me but deeply wanted me to figure out on my own, you got angry. You’re doing this just now.” 

“Well, I can’t see why would you care anything about me.” you snapped, still glaring after him. “First you were all about loving me and the next was talking rubbish of me to the whole school, not even looking at me after!” you gritted your teeth with force and fury.

“That’s because I was ashamed!” he shouted. “I was drunk that night, more than I was ever drunk in my life and that was because of you!! YOU THINK I CAN TURN IT OFF LIKE A SWITCH?!?! I can’t! I’ve been trying but guys have feeling too, (y/n) and that day I felt like my heart is going to squeeze itself into disappearance.” his eyes were glistening and his hand was digging into his shirt, at the place where his heart was. 

“You told everybody I was a slag.” your eyes began to water as well. You uncovered yourself and stood up, facing him your back. “You told how easy I was! How anybody could have me if they wanted! You threw me out there like I was an object!” you turned to him.

“YOU SLEPT WITH MY BEST FRIEND!” he shouted, coming closer to you and letting tears fall down his cheeks. 

This was the first time you saw James cry. 

Never. Never in all the years you have known him, James never cried in front of you. No matter how hurt he was, no matter how much it pained him, he never cried in front of you. Not a tear. 

But when he said it- how he said it; with a low voice that cracked at those last two words. You knew now. You hurt him more than he ever hurt you. 

“And all the time I wished that I wouldn’t know. All the time I wished and still wish that it wasn’t him but it was. It had to be the usual cliche best friend, roomate. Hadn’t it, (y/n)?” he kept looking at you with so much disappointment that now all the fear you always felt was covered with all the shame James made you feel at this moment. “So yeah. I spoke rubbish of you. It’s not something I am proud of but I was drunk. I was drunk on my arse, drowning my sorrow in it and feeling a bit over-prideful when I had too much in my system. I realized what I had done the following day when I woke up on a toilet. Have you realized what you have done?”

That question made you shot your head up so fast, you could feel something crack. “How dare you ask me that?! You broke me James! As much as I love you, you broke me everytime you decided to shout and yell at me for things I could not change or have any effect on! Tense and on edge everytime. Shouting at me for the smallest of things, insulting me as well! Have you ever realiyed how you have treated me in the past months of our relationship?!” you shouted and before he could reply you cut in first. “I didn’t want to cheat on you! Especially not with Remus! But he was there at the wrong place at the wrong time and everything between us was so messed up-”

“I DON’T CARE!” he shouted. “I don’t care how messed up it was between us! We always loved each other! We had more good memories than bad! Of course, we fought! Couples do that. Of course, you were tense and on edge almost every month before you got your period. You were horrible to me when you felt off and you started fights as well! You insulted me! You shouted as well! The fights went both ways and just because the last month was a bit off that doesn’t mean you get to walk away from this relationship!”  

You stood there and stared at him. He was right. He really was but the fire in you kept going and you couldn’t calm down. “I-I can’t this-” you grabbed your book and started storming away.

“Where are you going?!”

“I’m leaving!”

And everything was clear and fine until his hand grabbed yours and he pulled you to him. You crashed into his body and you heard the first few words but after that it squeezed you tight in your chest and you couldn’t breathe. The vision was black, only words echoing in your ears :

‘Such a pretty little doe with such a pretty little face.’  

‘You know I always fancied you... always thinking what you could do to me if I was your man- not that arrogant Potter boy.’

‘It’s aways the most innocent ones that are the wildest.’

His voice continued to echo in your ears meanwhile all your vision was dark. You were in a library, he was touching you, kissing you. You were frozen in your seat.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted at those malicious green eyes- slicked white hair and a grin that kept cackling. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” you screamed, feeling different hands around your but shoved yourself away from them and falling on the ground. “Don’t touch me!” you turned around on your back and started crawling away, your vision getting clearer meanwhile the cackle was still in your head. Your eyes kept themselves wide and at the boy in front.

It’s James and he was staring at you. Staring at your frightened eyes. 

You quickly got up from the floor and started backing away, feeling sickness in your stomach. “Leave me alone.” your voice trembled, your eyes looking away. “Leave...leave me...don’t touch me. Leave me. Don’t touch me. Leave me.” you kept telling to yourself and making your way to your dorm. “Leave me. Don’t touch me.” and when you were up in your dorm, you stormed into the bathroom and cleaned yourself the same day as you did when that- that monster put his hands on you, sobbing. 

And James? James was terrified and furious.

Who touched you?

[95liners3rdmember]

Worth It

Chapter Two: Saying Thank You 

Word Count: 9632

Chapter One: First Meeting 

Tucking my phone into my back pocket, I have to do a double take of the group standing in front of me. I try to fight my facial expression but I can’t help but squint my eyes and the raising of my brow. The last thing I expected was an impromptu pajama party. 

“Ummm...you all didn’t have to come.” My voice croaks out as I lead the way into the apartment. Even though I know the apartment is as clean as it ever will be before I unpack, I nervously scan for a mess. I can’t help the boxes that litter the building for now though. 

“We figured eight is better than one, but we have to be quick or Jungkookie over here will be lost to video games.” Namjoon jokes as they make themselves at home, the bag Hoseok carried now is being emptied on the island. Soda and snacks. So I guess we really are having a party. 

“Thank you, again.” Now I feel guilty because I know they are all tired. But they are willingly coming to help me, a still somewhat stranger. 

“So where do you want to start?” Seokjin asks as he rolls up the sleeves of his RJ pajamas. 

I haven’t even gotten that far, I guess the easiest for them to do is the living room. It’s mainly gaming consoles, movies and pictures. That way they can entertain themselves while I unpack my office. 

“How about in here? All I have are games, movies and electronics. Could you do that while I went in my office? There’s a lot more to tackle in there.” My sisters would smack me for asking. I want to smack myself too but they seem more than happy to help. 

“No problem!” 

I walk down the small hallway to the box filled office and a heavy sigh leaves my lips. There’s so much to do here. My mind gets too lost in where and how to arrange everything that I didn’t notice Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi walk in with me. 

“Whoa. There’s more boxes in here than the rest of the apartment.” Jimin’s eyes widen as he tries to find a place to start. 

“Reminds me of when we move offices.” Yoongi comments as he opens the box closest to him. Thankfully it’s only dvds from previous jobs or performances. 

“Then we know how to handle it.” Namjoon confidently pats my shoulder as I tugged up the sleeves of the sweater. Time to get some work done…

My eyes start to hurt as I try to figure out why my speakers are working with my desktop. We’ve been at it for almost two hours, I’ve lost Namjoon to the gaming party in the living room. Jimin has gotten lost in the pile of Naruto manga that is proudly displayed on a bookcase. Thankfully Yoongi has stayed with me. 

“Let me see, it may be a bad wire. It happened once in Genius Lab.” I wiggle from behind the desk and plop into the chair. My somewhat good mood has faded as the night goes on. This is really the last thing I need done before my office is fully unpacked. 

“Fixed. You had them switched.” Yoongi smiles lightly as he adjusts the desk and it sits flush against the wall. Thank god, now I need to get them all something for helping me so much.

“Thank you Yoongi. Why don’t you go join the others? I’m just going to break all the boxes down and pick up the trash.” 

He hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly, leaving a reading Jimin and a worn out me in the finished room. Honestly I couldn’t be happier. There’s just enough room where I can dance if I need to work out a move. Namjoon and I set up my camera so it can record if I get ideas, we mounted it above my desk so there aren’t any cords to trip over. I may be a dancer but I’m as clumsy as a person with two left feet. 

“Are you okay Y/n?” Turning on my heels I meet Jimin’s gaze. He’s putting the book back in its spot as he moves closer to me. I shake me head yes but I see a small box sitting on the ground. My legs wobble slightly as I move over to it and try to open the tape with my bare hands. Thankfully Jimin is thanking clearer than I am and grabs the scissors. 

“Thank you.” Slicing the tape, I see a few picture frames and my heart feels heavy. It’s a picture of me and my two sisters right before I left. They threw me surprise going away party with just us and a few family members. Tears start to prick at the corner of my eyes as I move to place it on my desk. 

“Are these your sisters?” Jimin asks as he shuffles through the box, turning I see him holding a picture frame. A weird mix of smile and smirk grace his lips. What picture could he have? 

Oh no. 

Fire lights in my cheeks as I try to take the photo away from him. Crap. That’s the last thing I wanted him to see. My sister and I are standing in age order with our backs turned to the camera, but our faces turned so you can see who is who, a thumb pointing to the back of our shirts as we stand in front of a large arena. It’s from our first time going to see BTS all together. Each of us wearing a different jersey style shirt. Of course they would pack this one in with my others even after I told them not to. 

“I guess Nikole thought it would be funny to pack this. It’s really embarrassing.”

“How? You all look excited.” 

“It was the first time the- we got to see you perform. One of the best shows I’ve ever seen.” I had to catch myself before I gave it away that I had been to others. 

“Here’s another one.” Jimin grabs the last frame out and I want to die. 

It’s a picture of me, wide smile with my army bomb staring up at the stage in awe. The lights in the background almost made it look like something from a fairy tail at how I was glowing. It was during the performance of ‘Fire’ that she took this because I was so proud to see my hard work come to life. 

Namjoon had sent us tickets for right by the stage that way we could somewhat see each other during sound check and the concert. I hadn’t kept up with the set list and when I say them running through ‘Fire’ I almost cried. So leave it to my youngest sister to take a picture of the actual concert performance. I swear I’m going to hide this picture in the deepest, darkest drawer I have here. 

Jimin mumbles something under his breath, it’s so soft and quick that I can’t make out what’s said. But there’s a strange tension in the room now. I clear my throat and take the second picture from him. 

“Ah I knew you had a favorite!” My whole body jumps and I almost drop the frames. Namjoon has been peering over my shoulder long enough to make out who’s is wearing each shirt. 

“Jesus Namjoon, you scared the life out of me.” As an instinct the words come out in English. The filter in my brain stopped working from being scared. Jimin can’t help but look at me as if I had a second head when the words came out in an accent he hadn’t heard much before. 

“I figured out Nikole and Nat’s that night but not yours. Seems you’ve been hiding something from me.” The grin on his face is full of playfulness and I can’t help but laugh. 

“I’m just messing with you, come on Jimin, Y/n. Kookie and Jin are the last two players in the contest. Let’s see who’s going to win.” Glancing over at Jimin another giggle slips through my lips as I notice his cheeks are painted a light shade of pink. The boys lead the way out but I quickly drop off the frames on my bed before joining them. 

All of the members have spread out across the couch and the floor. Empty boxes are stacked by the balcony door and everything seems to have found a home. They are quicker than I am, that’s for sure. Yoongi points over to the countertop and I see a pair of pajamas waiting for me. 

“Jungkookies clothes would be too big for you, I had an extra pair anyways.” 

“Thank you again. I’ll change after watching the last round though. I feel bad for leaving you all out here.” I scratch the back of my head and frown a little. Honestly I would’ve liked to spend more time out here but there was a lot to do. 

“Don’t worry about it! Also, I unpacked the kitchen and you need to go shopping.” Hoseok calls from his spot on the couch. He did the kitchen?! I really owe them, maybe I can take them to dinner tomorrow. 

“I should probably do that tomorrow after my luggage gets here.” Namjoon pats the couch and I happily oblige as my legs start to feel like a thousand pounds. I squeeze in between Namjoon and Taehyung. 

“You can go with me. I’ll come by and get you in the morning.” Hoseok is willing to volunteer himself for something I can handle on my own makes my heart jump. They really are the most welcoming and accepting group of people I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of people in the entertainment industry. 

“I’d like that a lot.” Smiling, I lean back into the couch and shimmy out my phone. There’s not much going on except a few notifications from my email. I’m too tired to check them now but I will in the morning. Taehyung reaches over as my guard is down and goes to my secure app that I was told to download. BigHit is all about security, so they told me that they only message within secure and private app accounts. Smart by all means but it’s going to take some getting used to. 

A few minutes pass by as I watch him through heavy eyes and finally see that there are seven new contacts and a new group chat. Quietly I thank him but it’s drowned out by the cheering and hollering around us. Once again Jungkook proves he’s superior at most things. I fight against my body screaming for sleep as I clap along. 

Namjoon gently nudges me and I look at him with a weak smile. He knows, well they all know too well what exhaustion can do to a person's body. 

“Alright everyone, time to go. Some of us have work to do tomorrow.” Being the ever vigilant leader, he manages to wrangle the members. A few protests come from the younger three and I told them we could all get together another time. 

I wave goodbye and tell them how thankful I am for them helping me as they single file out of the apartment. Shutting the door, I lock it slowly and trudge back to the bedroom turning off the lights as I go. My hands grab at the clothes on the counter and I stumble into my room. 

A few ideas pop into my mind at how to decorate but that can wait, for now I need to sleep. Gently I peel off Namjoon’s sweater and fold it nicely. I’ll make sure to have it cleaned for him before giving it back. 

Like a zombie I change into the comfy clothing and cleanup before bed. My head feels so much better as the buns come tumbling down. I can’t even look at the mirror knowing that I look as bad as I feel. 

Crawling into the bed, my mind can’t seem to turn off as my body aches for sleep. I guess I’m missing home just a little. On instinct I reach for my phone that’s plugged up and rest it where I can lay in bed and video chat. Clicking on Nat’s name I patiently wait. 

“Why are you still awake?”  I look around in the background and I can tell she’s back at home already. Her exam must be finished already. 

“I can’t sleep.” My voice feels foreign to my ears. I wonder if this is how Namjoon feels. 

“Then tell me about your day. I haven’t really gotten to talk to you since you left.” It’s no secret that Nat hates being separated from Nikole and I. That’s why it was difficult for her to accept that I was leaving. There were tons of late nights spent packing and just talking. 

“There’s not much to tell. Dinner was interesting though.” My eyes start to close, they feel like a thousand pounds. 

“I would hope so. I mean after all you got to hangout with seven of the coolest people ever.” I huff out a laugh at my sister’s comment. Nuzzling my head into the pillows as I struggle to pull the covers up, Nat lets out a small huff.

“Get some sleep sis.” 

Buzz ...Buzz...Buzz….

My eyes screw close tighter as I blindly reach for my phone on the nightstand. Groaning out in frustration I finally grab the cold device and shiver slightly as I lift it to my ear, the cord snagging as I struggle with it. 

“Hello…” My voice cracks towards the end as I roll over to see sunlight pouring in from the window beside me. What time is it?

“Good morning y/n! It’s Hoseok, I thought you wanted help going shopping this morning?” There’s a slight teasing tone in his voice, pulling my phone away I check the time. 1:30 p.m. Crap!

There’s a knock on my door and I instantly take off sprinting. I must look crazy because as I fling the door open Hoseok jumps back with a look of pure shock. His phone slowly drops from his ear and he quickly ends the call. In front of him sit my three suitcases that went missing yesterday. Thank god they are here. 

“I’m so sorry. I overslept, please tell me you weren’t waiting too long.” I bow slightly but I snap back up when a breeze hits my skin. How could I forget that I’m not wearing my own clothes?! Idiot.

“When Namjoon couldn’t get ahold of you I went ahead and did a few other errands.” My eyes dart back to the phone in my hands and notice the dozens of missed calls and texts. One being an email from BigHit…..fantastic. 

“I guess you aren’t too used to jet lag like the rest of us. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll take you to get some coffee.” Hoseok smiles widely and I feel a new bubble of energy burst in my body. Grabbing two of the suitcases, I roll them into the apartment before grabbing the third one. 

“Give me like...5 minutes. I’ll try to be quick.” Bowing apologetically, I snatch my pink suitcase and take off for my bedroom. My feet barely miss the empty boxes that litter the living room from last night. I’ll have to figure out where to take these later this afternoon. 

Slamming my door shut louder than I intended I make myself jump. Skimming through my notifications I get the gist of what all I missed; my sisters being nosey and overprotective, Namjoon trying to wake the sleeping beast, a few texts from Hoseok trying to figure out if I’m awake and lastly an email reminding me of the meeting at 8am on Monday which has a dress code of business casual. So I’ll have to take a bag of my dance clothes to change into. I might as well leave some in my office if this is a regular thing. 

Tossing my phone to the side, I unzip the large suitcase and pull out my favorite Saturday outfit. Stripping out of Yoongi’s shorts I jump around as I tug up the black ripped skinny jeans, almost tripping over my carry on. Lord today might be my last day on earth with how clumsy I’ve been today. Cheering quietly in victory I gently take off Jungkook’s huge shirt and dress myself in my version of the white T-shirt, top it all off with a black and red flannel, finishing it off with white converse. Perfect. Now time to take the mane. 

“Hey y/n are these videos the ones you made before moving?” Hoseok yells out from the office as I shove my toothbrush into my mouth. Closing my lips around the brush, I throw my hair up into a messy bun and emerge from my room. 

“Yes….I can...show you...later.” I manage to say through foamed toothpaste without looking like a crazy person. It must be an entertaining look because Hoseok tried hard to hide his laughter. Running back, I spit out the foam and grab the face mask Jimin gave me last night just in case. 

Grabbing everything I need, phone-check, purse-check, mask-check, keys...in the purse. 

“Ready?” Tilting my head to the side, a child like smile spreads on my face. I’ve never been this excited to go grocery shopping before. Must be the sunshine effect of the famous J-Hope. It feels weird to call him by his stage name so I’ll just wait until he tells me to. 

“Let’s get going! But first coffee. There’s a little shop down the road and they know to be discreet.” 

Discretion. Something I’ve never really been used to but now it’s a huge factor in my job. Being around one of the fastest growing bands in the world comes with more media attention. Their stylist and trainers don’t really get much exposure but I saw their old choreographer a lot more in photos and videos. The fans didn’t say much because it was another guy. I can just imagine what the fans will think with a woman around all the time. 

I knew the risks, I’m very well aware that one wrong step could lead to me being back home. Is this even acceptable? Going shopping with one of the members and their manager doesn’t sound like a situation that’s allowed. But if it was a big deal Namjoon would’ve stopped me. 

There’s a black van pulled up to the front and a large man standing outside of vehicle. Security. Better safe than sorry. 

“Sorry. Normally our managers drive us around.” 

“It’s fine. I know your safety is more important. If it’s too much of a hassle I can always go on my own.”

“No way! You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. After yesterday I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.” 

A sincere sunshine smile radiates from Hoseok as he slides the van door open for us. Fumbling with my mask I hop into my seat. The door slams loudly and my nerves start to go haywire. It’s justifiable though considering I’ve never been alone with any other member beside Namjoon for more than a few minutes. This adventure could hours…

Snatching my phone out of my purse I send a quick text to Namjoon letting him know that I’m internally freaking out. 

Y/N:‘Why did I agree to this? I feel like Hoseok will get bored of me.’

RM: ‘Just be yourself. See you later, working on something.’

“Is it nice having a Saturday off Hoseok? I remember Namjoon telling me once that getting a full weekend off feels like a vacation.” It’s no secret that each member works themselves to the bone. Namjoon has told me countless times that Yoongi would stay for days on end in the studio.  

“It’s strange but I’m glad. There was a lot of things I needed to get done today and this is the last errand.” His fingers are typing quickly on the screen. Looking away so I don’t invade his privacy, my eyes take in the scenery. Small shops and large crowds fill the streets. 

“I’m so sorry for making you wait. I feel bad. You all were more than willing to help me last night.” Looking down at the phone, I lock it and slide it into my purse. I still need to figure out how to repay them for their help. Last night I thought I could make dinner but it may just be easier if I take everyone out. 

The car comes to a stop in front of a small coffee shop. Shuffling through my purse, I bring up the white mask and cautiously wrap around my ears. Last night was almost a disaster when I felt the straps tug at my earrings. Pulling the door, Hoseok jumps out and holds the door open long enough for me to exit as well. The manager leads the way as we enter the small shop. 

It’s adorable. Small tables line the walls and there’s a large bookcase beside the register. Maybe on my next day off I can come in and read a book. Smiling I stand behind Hoseok and stare at the menu. Bouncing on the balls of my feet as I order an iced coffee, my eyes wander around the shop. I can’t help but notice a few curious customers staring at the two of us. For some reason my heart starts to hammer in my chest. The last thing I want is to get Hoseok in trouble.

“Don’t worry too much. I come here a lot, with and without security.” His words calm my heart a little, but I still want to leave. I guess it’s the gitters of being so close to a member of BTS. Or maybe because I haven’t even gotten to work a real first day yet. 

Hoseok pats my shoulder lightly as our names are called. Taking my cup with a quiet ‘thank you’ I follow the man in front of me back into the safety of the van. Tugging the mask down to take a sip I feel a sigh of relief escape my body. 

“I didn’t realize last night that you have so many piercings. They look really cool.” Raising a hand up I trace the line of piercings. The studs feel rough under my finger as I twist the one on the bottom.

“It’s something my sisters and I did growing up. It was almost a competition, if one of us would get another the other two would. Nikole has more though, I stopped with the three on top and bottom.” The last time I got a piercing was after the BTS concert. Adrenaline was pumping through me and it was all I could think of. 

“Jungkookie will be jealous that you have more than him.” His giggle makes my body vibrate with energy. Being around Hoseok is like being around a ball of pure, fun energy. It makes me want to run a mile, clean my entire house and dance for hours. None of which I’ll get done today but it’s a nice thought. 

Pulling into a large parking lot, there’s a lot more people than I thought would be. That’s what I get for sleeping in so late. Definitely not going to bed at a decent time tonight. 

“Ms. y/l/n, Hoseok you will have to be quick. Traffic is starting to pick up and it will just be safer.” Nodding slowly, all four of us exit the van and make our way to the store. Hoseok bumps my shoulder as we both grab a cart. Laughing lightly, I bump against him as I walk beside him. 

As we walk through the store, both of our carts start to fill up. His more than mine though since he’s getting enough for seven compared to my one. The more that we’re inside, the more my face starts to feel warmer and warmer from the mask. I should’ve worn one back home to adjust. 

“What else do you need Hoseok?” Clearing my throat, I tug at the mask to let a small breeze of cool air in. I don’t want to seem like I’m rushing him because he was nice enough to wait for me. 

“Um...I think I need to get some milk and then I’m done. Are you feeling okay? I noticed you messing with the mask.” 

“I’m fine. Just getting a little toasty, don’t worry about it.” Adding some cheer into my voice, I pick up the pace beside him. A few people look at us as we pass them, a few younger girls have their phones out giggling in groups. I really hope no one notices Hoseok right now. 

“Um, do you think everyone would like to go to dinner tonight? My treat.” Those words make him stop in his tracks. A goofy laugh erupts from his chest as he almost doubles over. 

“After last night I think everyone would like that, but are you sure about paying? Jungkook and Jin could out eat anyone you’ve met.” 

“I’m completely sure. I need to make sure you all eat well before I put you to work on Monday.” Winking at him, we make our way to the checkout counter and start to pay for everything. The process of checking out is so much quicker than our almost hour long shopping trip. I can’t believe we’ve been here that long. 

Patiently waiting for Hoseok, I hold tightly to the handles I look around at the rest of the store. There’s definitely more people, I can’t help but swallow nervously. The voice in the back of my mind telling me it was a bad idea. 

“All done! Let’s get back.” His singsong voice calms me as all four of us make our way back to the van. Being careful to divide our things into two different piles, we jump right back in and sink into the plush seats. Hoseok quickly pulls out his phone and types at the speed of lightning. Pulling my mask down, I take in a deep breath. 

“Everyone but Namjoon and Yoongi will help us carry all of this stuff up.” A strange wave of guilt hits me. 

“Hoseok don’t worry about me. I can carry all of mine up.” 

“Call me J-Hope, everyone does. And don't worry about it. It’s no big deal.” 

Of course I could only get away with being so formal for so long. And there’s no point in arguing with him either. 

“Good. And the quicker we get these groceries put away the faster I can watch the videos.” Even through the mask I see a smirk. 

I can’t help but smirk too. Of course there’s a hidden meaning behind the kind actions. Two can sort of play that game too. 

“Very true. But don’t tell the others. Take it as a thank you for going shopping with me.” I elbow him gently as I winked at him. Earning me a genuine Hoseok laugh. 

The drive back is quicker and before I know it the four other members are waiting somewhat calmly down at the front door. It’s strange to see them so ...domestic. 

Hoseok jumps out of the van as soon as it’s parked, which gets him a slight scolding from his manager. I can’t help but giggle. Not even worrying about the mask, I follow suit and jump out. All of the boys are dressed in joggers and long sleeve shirts. Their hair disarray from laying around and enjoying their day off. Taehyung greets me with a large boxy smile and an enthusiastic wave. 

“Hobi hyung I think you got too much.” Jimin slightly complains as he grabs the bags Hoseok passes. Wiggling my way through I manage to grab all of my bags but some get taken from my hands. I teeter for a second at the sudden weight shift as I stare at a grinning Taehyung.

“Oh, thank you Taehyung.” 

“No problem!” 

He leads the way with a bounce in his step and I can’t help to put a little more pep in my step. As we enter the building I can’t help but feel like someone is staring at me. Glancing over my shoulder I catch the quick turn of Jimin’s head as he busies himself by grabbing bags. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. 

The ride up to the apartment is quiet but in a relaxing way. I don’t feel pressured to start or continue a conversation or ask questions. It’s nice. 

As the elevator dings, I step out and Taehyung is right behind me. Unlocking my door, I move flat against the door so he can enter before me. 

“Do you need help getting rid of those boxes y/n?” His head nods towards the large pile of broken down boxes and a bag full of paper. That’s something else I need to take care of today before Hoseok comes over. But then again there’s no point in rushing myself to completely move in after only being here a full day. 

“I was going to take care of them later Taehyung, thank you though.” His smile never fades as he bounces to the door again after dropping the bags on the kitchen counter. With a quick wave, the door shuts loudly and I’m left in a silent apartment. A sigh wrecks through my body as I trudge into the kitchen. Setting down the bags, I fish out my phone and open up the group chat Taehyung created. 

Y/N:‘To say thank you for everything, why don’t we all go out to dinner tonight? My treat :)’

Leaving my phone sit unlocked, I start to figure out how I want to arrange everything. Humming along to a random tune, my phone vibrates nonstop for a solid minute before I finally get to check it. 

Kookie:’Be ready at 6 noona! I’ll come get you!’

J-Hope:’I told you this might be a bad idea, Jin hyung and Kookie are already getting a reservation.’

Jin:’Eating is never a bad idea, see you at 6 y/n!’

RM:’I go to work in the studio for a few hours...see you soon everyone.’

A few more texts come in from Taehyung and Yoongi but Jimin stays silent. Letting out a huff, I throw all the bags into the trash can and before I can shuffle off into my room a loud knock echoes from the front door. Hoseok.

“Come in!” I yell from the living room and he’s practically jumping as he takes a seat on the couch. Giggling I load the dvd into the player and take a seat beside him.

“I’m going to have to tweak it a little once I see everyone grouped together. But it’s basically the finished product.” 

“Lets see it. I haven’t been this excited to have practice in a long time.” 

My heart flutters at his words as I press play. A wave of nervousness washes over me as I try to gauge his reaction. For the first time he’s completely expressionless around me. Biting the inside of my cheek I curl up into a ball and pick at my nails. He probably hates it. Or he probably wishes that I didn’t replace their previous coach. As the song comes to an end, the screen fades to black. I can’t bring myself to look at him as the next song plays. 

An excruciating twenty minutes later, the DVD stops playing and silence hangs around us. I almost want to run into a studio and start over on everything without even hearing his opinions. 

“That ...are you sure we can’t start today?!”

Huh….

Glancing over at him, my stomach settles and I can’t help but burst out laughing. Here I was thinking that he hated it. Hoseok’s brows furrow together as I laugh even harder at his reaction.

“Sorry...ha..I thought you hated it. I was ready to run to the company and remake everything.”

“Ah, sorry…But honestly this is pretty incredible. It’s intricate and eye catching. We’ve got our work cut out for us this time for sure.” Hoseok searches for his phone and lets out a deep sigh. His expression went from carefree to annoyed in the blink of an eye, I wonder what’s going on.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you for dinner.” He’s off the couch instantly as he forces a smile saying goodbye. 

I can’t wrap my mind around what just happened as I stare at the closed door. Maybe something came up with the members? It’s none of my business though, whatever happens in their personal life is completely private and I shouldn’t pry into it.

Tossing the remote onto the coffee table, I fall back into the couch and stare up at the white ceiling. For the first time in days, I’m not exhausted. Every fiber of my being is surging with energy to do something, anything really. The only thing really left to do is unpack my bedroom. Perfect. 

Tapping my phone screen to double check the time, I have enough time to unload all of my suitcases and play around with my room. Connecting my phone to the speaker in my room music starts to fill the silent apartment and a large smile spreads on my lips. My eyes land on the pictures that I hid away in my room last night. Instantly I grab them and place them on top of the dresser so they wouldn’t get broken. 

I can’t believe that Jimin found those last night, actually I can’t believe my sister packed those without me even knowing. Actually I can. My sister would do anything to embarssess me in front of each and every member. They’ve managed to do so in front of Namjoon so many times that I’ve just gotten used to it. But the worst case scenario for me is Park Jimin. I’ve always admired his style of dance and how he can move so seamlessly with any genre of music. 

The music in my room stops playing and ‘Just One Day’ starts blaring through the speakers. My cheeks flush red as I search for my phone that’s mixed in with the massive pile of clothes littering my bed. I finally find it and roll my eyes at the caller id. 

“Yes Namjoon…” There’s a slight annoyance in my voice but it disappears when I hear a few different chuckles in the background. 

“I just wanted to call and let you know to dress up.” Dress up? Where in the world are we going?

“Um...why?” I hear a few more giggles in the background before Namjoon hushed everyone. 

“Seems that everyone is going a little over the top tonight outfit wise. Taehyung came out completely overdressed and now everyone else is trying to outdo each other.” 

“You did warn me that they could be a little over the top.” Sighing I look at the piles of clothes, at least this time I have plenty of options. But I’m definitely calling Nat for some input, after all having a fashion designer in the family comes in handy. 

“It’s a surprise. I just wanted to give you enough heads up.” 

“Thanks. I guess I better finish up what I’m doing so I can look presentable for everyone.” I can’t help but chuckle as I end the call and frantically call my sister. Hopefully she’s still awake. 

Who am I kidding, that girl runs off of two hours of sleep and coffee. 

Clicking on the facetime icon, I run and start the shower so I can just jump in once Nat ends the call. Just as I suspect, her face pops on the screen. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun and she’s sitting at her desk. She’s probably working overtime on her midterm project like always. 

“Nat I need help!” The desperation is clear in my voice as I flip the camera over to look at the mess of clothes. An annoyed sigh comes through the speaker as she rolls her eyes.

“Hello to you too dear sister. Last time I checked you moved halfway around the world....how could I possibly help you?” 

“I need your expert advice. Help me pick out a nice outfit for dinner tonight, pretty please!” Flipping the camera back around I pout at the screen which earns me a gut filled laugh from Nat. Honestly if it wasn’t for her I would be constantly dressed in leggings and tank tops. 

“Fine. But what do I get out of it?” I know she’s teasing me but I feel bad for interrupting her work. I’ll have to think about something just so she knows that I appreciate everything. 

“I’ll think of something like always. But please Nat, I don’t have long to figure out some sort of outfit and get myself presentable.”

“You’re acting like this is some huge dinner. Is it a work event?” 

“Uh, you could say that I guess. I’m going with people I work with.” It’s not a lie but it’s not the truth either. The last thing I want is another lecture from my little sister about boundaries and keeping work separate outside of the office. 

“Good to know that you still try to keep secrets from me, but I won’t ask. Since I know all of the clothes you own, how about the black turtle neck with the red skirt. Wear the thigh high black heels.” 

My eyes dart around the pile as I grab the items she lists off and I can’t help but smile. Nat is going to make a great stylist for sure once she’s out of college. Whoever she works for will be really lucky. 

“Anything else dear sister?” 

“Don’t go over the top with anything else, keep it simple. Curl your hair though.” 

“Thank you, how’s the project coming? I know that you only have about a month or so left.” 

“I’ve been struggling with finding the right accent piece. But it’s not going to stop me from passing. Anyways it was great talking but I really need to finish this, it’s due on Monday.” 

“You’ll do amazing considering you can style me from halfway around the world. Love you!”

She blows a kiss at the camera as the screen goes black. I release a sigh of relief, I’m beyond glad that she didn’t try to pry too much into things. Hanging the items up on a hanger, I hurry and put away the rest of my clothes and suitcases. It’s a rushed job but it will do for now. Later on I can always rearrange and make it look nicer. But for now I have to hurry and get ready. 

A few hours later and a few energy drinks later I’m completely dressed and ready to go. Taking all of Nat’s advice, I bend down and zip up the heels. My hair falls in my face and I huff out an annoyed breath to blow it away. Normally I love to keep my hair up and out of the way since it’s so long but tonight isn’t a night where I can do that. But maybe I can pin it back. Shuffling to the bathroom, stupid heels, I twist a small section on each side and pin it back so my face is hair free. All of my piercings are visible as well and I can’t help but smile. Maybe the next time I get together with my sisters I’ll add on another one. 

Switching off the bathroom light, I move back into my room and dig out my small black boy bag and throw my phone and keys inside. Hopefully we are driving because I highly doubt I’ll be able to walk all the way to and from the restaurant like last time. Turning towards my closet I catch my reflection in the full length mirror and instantly my stomach tightens. 

All my life I’ve been self conscious about my body and looks. By no means am I overweight but I’ve always felt the pressure of fitting into the social standard of “thin and beautiful”. Since I’ve danced my entire life my legs are more toned and have more muscle than other women my size. Whenever I wear skirts or dresses I always feel a little people are silently judging me for wearing something so revealing and not having that picture perfect thigh gap. 

Pulling at the hem of the skirt I stand straight up and suck in a deep breath. I really hope they don’t think I look too bad. And I really hope they don’t think this outfit is a normal occurrence either. This will be one of the only times I wear something like this in front of them. 

A loud knock at the door snaps me out of my inner thoughts and I take in another deep breath. 

“Let’s do this.” 

Switching off the lights as I go, I open the door to a smiling Jungkook. He’s jumping on the balls of his feet as I step into the hallway and lock my door. Looks like Namjoon was being serious about dressing up, Jungkook’s wearing dress pants with a navy blue dress shirt. He looks like he’s about to go to an interview, not dinner with his brothers and his choreographer. 

“You look nice noona. Ready for dinner?” A bunny smile graces his lips, it’s the most pure smile I’ve ever seen. Nodding yes and whispering out a small thank you we ride the elevator down to the lobby where the other six men are waiting for us. 

And if I didn’t have as much respect as I do for them I might have just fangirl. Each of them is dressed like Jungkook but with a different colored shirt. Namjoon was being dead serious about it being almost a competition. My cheeks heat up as everyone turns to look at us and I meet eyes with Jimin. Crap. After him finding my picture yesterday I feel weird around him. What if he thinks I’m just some crazy fan that’s trying to get close to everyone. 

“Do you mind driving one of the cars y/n? Jin is going to drive too that way we don’t have to walk everywhere.” Namjoon walks over to greet me with a dimpled smile.

“Absolutely, who’s riding with us?” His smile fades as he adjusts the glasses on his face.

“Actually I don’t know where the restaurant is. JK and Jin have been there a few times. The maknae line actually all called dibs on riding with you.” 

There’s a bunch of snickers and giggles around us. I guess there’s no getting out of this one. I mean what could possibly go wrong with the four of us in a car? I mean we’re all about the same age anyways. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Walking towards the door, I walk past most of them except for Namjoon who’s keeping pace right beside me. The others are hot on our heels but that doesn’t stop Namjoon from picking on me.

“I’m guessing you called Natalie since you hung up on me earlier.” He elbows me gently, which normally wouldn’t cause me to stumble but since I’m in these awful heels I teater just a tad. Someone grabs my waist to help me rebalance but it’s gone as soon as it was there, snapping my head to the side I catch a glimpse of Jimin walking past. Maybe I just imagined it, I mean it was super quick. 

“I call passenger!” Jungkook screams and goes running for my car. Taehyung is right behind him as they race for the spot. Looking over at Namjoon he mouths out ‘good luck’ as he gets into Jin’s car. Great….

Jungkook whips out his phone and instantly starts to play music over the bluetooth. In the backseat Taehyung and Jimin sing along and dance. We haven’t even left the parking lot yet. Buckling up, Jungkook just tells me to follow behind Jin. There’s no questions asked but instead we have our own karaoke montage. Anything from their early music to new music by American artists. Thankfully we make it to the restaurant in no time. 

As soon as we make it into the private room, I take the seat beside Namjoon and tap his shoulder firmly. That was a long car ride and we only went ten minutes down the road. It’s like he can read my mind as he pours me a small glass of soju. Smoothing my skirt down, I sit down and accept his offer of apology. Sipping the glass slowly the seat next to me gets taken by Jungkook quickly as Taehyung and Jimin snag the seats across from me. I can’t lie that the ride was fun but it was chaotic. I never realized how much energy they all have, not just Jungkook. 

“Did all of the maknae have fun?” Yoongi chuckles as he looks through the menu. Shrugging my shoulders I continue to sip my glass and read through the menu. 

“We might steal noona on the way back though. She hasn’t gotten to explore much since she just got here.” My eyes widen as I choke on my drink slightly. This was definitely not something I planned on doing. Jungkook turns to me with a twinkle in his eyes but this time I have to say no. There’s too many risks.

“I’m sorry Jungkook, maybe another time. I don’t think it’s such a good idea for all of us to go out. We could get spotted, I could get in trouble with BigHit. Maybe another time okay?”

The pout that forms on his lips makes me want to instantly take back everything I said but I can’t. Maybe after I get on good terms with everyone at the company then I can possibly take him up on the offer of exploring. 

“Listen to her Jungkookie. The last thing we want is for y/n to not even start her first day and get in trouble.” Yoongi comments to relieve me from the instant guilt I feel from telling him no. Listening to his hyung he nods and starts to talk with Hoseok. Smiling, I look back down at the menu and breath deeply. Looking through my lashes I notice Jimin and Taehyung looking at me discreetly. Or at least trying to. What if Jimin told him about the picture? Mentally I smack myself because I know that I’m being a little paranoid. If there was a problem Namjoon would’ve said something already. 

After placing our orders, the room is filled with laughter and numerous stories. I try to chime in here and there but I’m too interested in listening. So I sit quietly in my chair as Namjoon and I work on a bottle of wine that he’s ordered. Everyone seems to be having fun so the atmosphere is light and bubbly. I lean over and turn my head away from everyone to whisper to Namjoon. 

“This is probably the wine talking, but what you all have is special.” A gentle smile rest on both of our faces as I turn to take in the rest of the members. They are all smiling and seem to be carefree despite their hectic and unpredictable lives. An occupational hazard of being an idol. 

“It’s been a struggle, you know that. I feel like we’re finally at a place where our music helps others.” The sincerity in his voice makes me nod in agreement as goosebumps form under my sleeves. 

“It does, more than you all know.” Smiling brightly at him, I look across and notice that the maknaes have been watching the small conversation between us. Taehyung seems to be watching closer than the other two but he turns away quickly when Hoseo calls for him. 

Letting out the breath I had been holding in, the food comes out in platters on the table. Everyone starts to fill their plates as the conversations still seem to pour out. I nibble on my food, too much wine in my system, as I listen to them recall day from their debut times. My heart clenches as I want to comment on their first performance in the states but Namjoon and I both made an agreement. One that I plan on keeping. 

“You’re quiet y/n, is everything okay?”

“Huh, oh yeah everything’s fine Jimin. I’m just taking everything in.” 

“Did I tell you guys that y/n went to a concert of ours back in the states?” Jimin smiles as he looks at me straight on. His tone isn’t mean in any way, more like playful teasing but I can’t help the blush forming on my face. 

“Ah, my sisters and I went to one. It was amazing! Probably one of the best nights of our lives.” Nervously I reach for my chopsticks and start poking at the food on my plate. I feel my phone buzz in my bag but I ignore it as I try to divert attention away from me. 

“It looked like it. What was your favorite song on the setlist?” 

“Fire, for sure. It was…” I stop midway through to try and process how I felt seeing my choreo performed. My heart was racing as I sang along with every word and tried not to dance along as well. There was a surge of energy and pure adrenaline that kept me up for hours after the concert. 

“Something else. I guess seeing all the hard work that was put into the song and choreo...there’s no other feeling greater than that.” Tilting my head to the side a large smile forms as I look back up at everyone. The sincerity in my answer seems to resonate with the members as they all nod in agreement. We continue eating our dinner in a peaceful silence. Relaxing into my chair I suck in a breath of relief.

Once dinner is over and the drinks have ran dry, a few of the members excuse themselves to go to the restroom or are trying to get ready to leave. For the first time I’m left alone with Jin and it’s fun. Everyone else makes fun of him for his dad jokes but yet I love them. Laughing up a storm, I look around for anyone else but it seems they’re all waiting. 

“I guess I need to get the bill. Everyone seems to be waiting outside.” 

“They have to wait for us either way since we are the two that drove. But about the bill…Yoongi may or may not have already paid while we were sitting here.” Jin gently shrugs his shoulders as I facepalm myself. This was supposed to be my way of thanking everyone for helping. He stands from the table and motions with his head to follow him. 

Groaning I stand up and grab my bag tightly. Standing next to Jin is slightly intimidating even with these heels on. He opens the front door for me and I bow in thanks as we meet with group. Yoongi scratches at the back of his head as I shoot him a slight annoyed glare. But my eyes soften as I get closer to him. 

“Thank you Yoongi. This was supposed to be my treat though.” I say quietly as I stand in front of him, still not quiet eye level.

“Just go easy on us.” He finishes with a wink and goes towards Jin’s car. It seems like this is our que to head back to the dorms. Halfway skipping and partially stumbling because of these stupid heels, I open the driver door and plop down. 

As soon as the car starts, all four of us sing along to some random song playing on the radio. Of course the other three sound amazing compared to me but it makes the drive go by quicker. That and the fact that it’s late and not many people are out. My eyes bulge out slightly at the time displayed on the dashboard...it’s almost 10:30. I can’t believe we were at dinner for almost four hours, that’s insane. But I guess it makes sense considering there were eight of us. 

“Are we going to be starting everything on Monday?” Taehyung yells over the music causing me to turn it down and interrupt Jimin and Jungkook’s mini concert. 

“Yes. But first I have a meeting with all the department heads. After that I’ll do a run through with each of you individually. Hoseok will show you the video while I’m gone.”

They all seem to absorb everything I’m saying as I pull into a parking spot. Jungkook and Taehyung jump out of the car as I let out a deep sigh before turning off the car. Jimin moves just as slowly as I do. I can’t tell whether he’s tired or is bored, but I’m not going to interrogate him. Opening my door, I lock the car as I watch the swarm of men walk through the doors. Instead of following them, I walk over to a bench that’s nestled between two trees on the edge of the building. 

Sitting down slowly, I crane my neck back so I can look up at the night sky. Back at home if you stayed out late enough you could see a sky full of stars but there are too many lights for that here. Stargazing has been a nightly occurrence for the past few months. These past few months I’ve been working around the clock and running on coffee. It’s nice to see that all of that hard work finally got me here but the exhaustion is definitely catching up to me. 

“You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here too long without a jacket.” 

Snapping my head over my hair spills over my face and I let out a huff of annoyance. Reaching into my bag, I pull out my backup hairtie and pull it into a high ponytail. Jimin takes the empty seat next to me and looks up at the sky as well. Silently I’m thankful that he doesn’t want to lecture me any further or have a conversation. Returning my gaze upwards I hear Jimin take in a deep breath.

There’s a tension in the air. It feels like both of us want to say something but we are too afraid too. Turning my head slowly I look at the man beside me and I instantly snap my head back. My cheeks feel hot and my stomach does a flip. All of this feels like a dream, one that I’m going to wake up from at any moment. But yet here I am.

“Let’s head inside. Last thing I want is for the famous Park Jimin to catch a cold before I get a chance to work with him.” 

Standing up simultaneously I turn my head to the side and show him a small smile. He musters a nod as he walks beside me quietly. Warmth hits us as we enter the building and I don’t realize how cold I was until my hands start shaking. Jimin hits all the buttons for us as we ride in complete silence as we reach his floor.

“Good night Jimin.”

“Good night y/n.”

The doors close as he’s still looking at me and I let out a breath I had been holding. Monday is going to be a challenge. Could he be questioning my credibility? Or my skill all together. I know that I danced with them for a song and then let them watch the choreo I made. But I know better than anyone that people can look talented by those but turn out to be a complete fraud. Practicing the same thing over and over again will make you a pro at that one thing. 

The beeping of the elevator pulls me from my head as I march to my front door. Excitement rushes through my veins at the thought of taking off my shoes and changing into something more...well me. The apartment is quiet as I make my way back to my bedroom and change into my pajamas. 

Before I know it, I’m huddled up in my blankets reading through the twenty emails I missed from BigHit while I was out today. I’ll give them credit, as a company they stay in constant contact and make sure everyone is on the same page with each and every department. And everyone knows the schedule of the others.

‘BigHit Monday Schedule:

8:00-9:30 Meeting in main conference room

9:45-12:45 BTS training with y/n in dance room 1

12:45-1:45 Lunch

2:00-3:15 BTS fitting with stylist

3:30-5:00 Individual schedules 

5:15-6:30 Studio time

Any activity after 6:30 is considered free time/training time.’ 

They weren’t kidding when they said they had busy schedules. I get them for three hours on Monday and that’s it. I’ll have to step up my game then. Maybe I’ll get more time throughout the week because I’ll need way more time than 15 hours a week. But if that’s all I get then I’ll have to make some changes to the choreo. 

Looks like this is going to be more of a challenge than I originally thought. But I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge. 

[gerbiloftriumph]

The Size of Hope

(also on ao3)

Mordon isn’t certain what to make of the fairy tale king his goblin friends captured, and King Graham has no idea what to make of the huge and clumsy goblin who keeps running into his path. The two warily team up, but neither one belongs in the goblin kingdom, and some pain runs deeper than either expects.

(Gen canon-expansion fic putting scrapped fragments from the subtitle file back into the game. Full fic warnings: bruising, canon-typical violence, self-hatred, abuse, Goblins Do Not Make Good Friends)

~*~*~

4/5

(1: Seen)(2: Found)(3: Buried)(4: Lost)

~*~*~

Waiting was the worst.

Mordon paced back and forth, dancing to the mouth of the tunnel and stepping down it a pace or two before shrinking back again. If he was wanted, he would have been invited. If Graham was going to come back, he would have done so by now. Mordon wasn’t wanted. Was abandoned.

Graham wasn’t any better than the king in Manny’s story.

But he was. He had been nice. Had smiled, hadn’t hit, hadn’t yelled, hadn’t been cruel. Was better.

But he left Mordon. Mordon was always left. Mordon, and his stupid face and his stupid hair and his stupid clumsy oversized body that tripped and fell and made a mess of everything.

Ohhh, what to do, what to do. Mordon hovered anxiously a few steps down the tunnel, then came back.

Mordon, always left. Never wanted. But Graham said they were doing this together, said they would go together. Did he really mean it? Maybe Mordon needed to prove his value to the king, like the piper had to the townsfolk in Manny’s wonderful book. But what did Graham want that he didn’t have, something that Mordon could give him? What could a goblin even offer a king? A snack? A spear? Was taking him to the goblin king enough? Probably not—it would have to be something bigger than that, something special.

But…but that never worked with the other goblins. He gave them all they wanted, did everything they asked, and it still didn’t help. They still didn’t like him (stupid face, stupid hair).

Graham was different. Graham was kind.

Graham had left him.

What to do.

As he waited, as he paced, as he crouched, he heard footsteps. He straightened, delighted—Graham was coming back!

He sank back down again when he realized he heard goblinese. His friends were coming, not Graham. Had they captured the king? Mordon’s fingers twisted nervously, waiting, watching, lurking in the shadows.

They didn’t have the king. They had a book. Mordon let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. They couldn’t read it. Didn’t know the letters. They were passing it between themselves, flipping pages, looking at illustrations. Finally, bored, one of them tossed it behind them. It bounced, spine cracking—Mordon flinched at the sound—and sprawling open on some page near the middle.

He wondered nervously if he should confront them about hurting a story, if he should threaten to tell on them. It would be an excuse to get back at them for hitting him. His hands were hot and sweaty, and he could feel his hair standing on end beneath his helmet.

Helmet.

Hat.

They had the king’s hat. One of his friends was wearing it at a jaunty angle, barely hooked over his helmet. It was swinging wildly, like it was going to fall off at the next step. He could see the red feather that meant so much to the king.

Before his nerves could get the better of him, Mordon stepped out of the shadows. “Hey,” he said in goblinese, voice quiet and cracked. “Hey, wait.”

The two goblins stopped, looked at him impatiently. “Why are you here? You don’t belong here.”

“Th-that hat. That’s…”

They waited, but Mordon couldn’t seem to find the words. He stopped, feeling small.

They glanced at each other, then the one wearing the hat plucked it off. “This?”

“Can I…I want…” Mordon’s fingernails drove into his palms, cutting little crescents, and the pain made him stand a fraction taller. “I want that hat.”

“Do you? Why should I give it to you?” The goblin lazily spun it on his finger, the feather fluttering. “It’s from the fairy tales. It’s important.”

But you’re not important. You’re the worst goblin. You can’t even stand guard with the fairy tales. You can’t do anything right. You don’t deserve to wear the costumes, to play the stories.

Play the stories.

“It’s not important.”

“Huh?”

“It’s worthless.”

“The king had it,” the goblin said, hackles raising as he crouched low, primed for leaping, tackling, biting. “Don’t insult me. It’s important.”

“It isn’t,” Mordon insisted, even though it made him feel sick to say it. This was a lie. And people who told lies in stories got hurt. But didn’t Hansel tell a lie to the witch, told her he was eating all the food when he wasn’t, so he wouldn’t get turned into gingerbread? “He wasn’t wearing it when you took it. The crown’s what’s important. That hat…that’s like…” Mordon stood straight and tall. With his friends crouched, he seemed to fill the tunnel. “That’s like Cinderella’s peasant dress. It’s a peasant hat. It’s junky and unwanted. It’s already been replaced with a crown.”

“The human king likes it,” the goblin said, but he looked at the hat a little doubtfully. “He was upset when we took it.”

“Because it’s the story,” Mordon said. “You hafta tell the story in order. Even the boring parts. That hat. That’s useless. That’s no power. That’s weak. You took it from him easy because he didn’t really want it anymore. Trash. You’re trash if you wear it.”

“Don’t insult me,” the goblin roared, about to pounce, to hurt. But he stopped. He glared at Mordon. “I’m important,” he said. He looked at the hat, and almost looked like he was going to crumple it in his hands, but instead he lazily tossed it at Mordon’s feet.

“A useless goblin should have a useless hat to match,” the friend said.

“More than useless,” the first said. “Not even a guard. Can’t do anything right.”

“Doesn’t even need a costume to be a monster,” the friend agreed.

Mordon’s hand froze as he reached for the hat, and he curled deeper into himself. Monster. Right. That’s all he was. All he had ever been. Ugly, clumsy, stupid. What was he doing, pretending he was anything else?

But…but Graham had said he wasn’t one. Words of a king were important. Maybe…maybe Mordon didn’t have to be one anymore, now. “I’m not a monster,” he said, cautiously, trying the words out and not sure how they felt in his mouth, worried it was another lie, words that didn’t count.

“’Course you are. Huge. Ugly. No one wants you to play. You wanna know why? You break everything. All the props, all the games. You don’t fit. You should wear that stupid human hat and go play with the stupid humans. They might actually want you.”

“That’s not—” Mordon twisted the hat brim in his hands, words swirling around him.

In the stories, monsters were killed. The wolf, the fox. Monsters were hated and hunted. Wearing a costume, playing a game: that was different. But he wasn’t wearing a costume. He was Mordon. And he was a monster. Something to be hated and feared.

Words spoken, words written, those mattered. Those were true.

But the king had said…

Mordon pulled the hat over his helmet. The human king had told him they were in this together. That he wasn’t a monster. He was wanted, at least by the humans. And he would follow in Graham’s footsteps, wearing the hat that had been special to him, the hat that had led to the crown.

And he was going to give it back. This hat wasn’t trash—it was a prize. This hat represented the surface. Exploration, courage. The king would be so excited to see the hat that nothing else would matter. This was what he had been looking for, this was the gift that would prove his value. Mordon would be praised, and the new words would cancel the old ones, like rewriting an ending. The hero of the story, not the villain. Saved, not lost.

Mordon stiffly walked past his friends, into the tunnel the king had followed. They laughed and thumped him hard as he passed. He fell and scraped against the stone, bones rattling. His armor stopped him from tearing his skin too badly on the rough ground, but it still startled and hurt. He slid forward, stopping just in front of the broken book thrown on the ground. A story abandoned in the dirt.

The spine had cracked, as Mordon had feared. Gingerly, he pushed himself to his knees and cradled the injured text. That wasn’t how you treated a story.

He read the page it had fallen open to.

You’re pretty big for a goblin, Graham had said.

Where are you from? Graham had said.

Do you ever take your helmet off? Graham had said.

“Don’t even think he is a goblin,” the first said to his friend as they walked away, leaving Mordon frozen, the book clutched in shaking hands, Graham’s adventuring cap slipping from his helmet.

~*~*~*~

The tunnels behind the library were lined with stories. Graham slipped past more stages where the goblins had set up ratty scenes. A kitchen, a parlor, an attic, a forest. Lots of wood and shoddy paintwork, all ghostly in desolate emptiness. They felt ignored, more broken toys that the goblins didn’t want to play with anymore. It made the hair rise on the back of his neck. Manny might be down there, or he might not be, and there could be something else more dangerous around the next corner.

And the delay hadn’t given him any clearer ideas about how he was going to break what he had learned with Mordon. He’d run it back and forth, getting tangled up in words and scenarios. Too many conflicting ideas. Too many doubts. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he hadn’t seen anything true, maybe he’d jumped to some outlandish conclusion. But what if he was right? It was his duty to defend his citizens. But Mordon wasn’t a Daventry citizen, he belonged to the goblin kingdom. Right? Wrong? His thoughts were twisting into circles even as he felt like he was wandering physically in circles through broken story after broken story.

This wasn’t worth getting lost over. Were the minutes turning to hours? He didn’t know how much time had passed on his useless venture, on his meandering ideas, and Mordon was going to be upset.

He couldn’t have anticipated just how upset Mordon was.

The goblin was kneeling on the floor, holding a book.

Shredding the pages.

Graham skidded to a halt.

“You left me,” Mordon said. His voice was utterly cold, thick with suppressed tears. “You promised.”

It must have been so much longer than Graham had thought. “Mordon? Mordon, I…I was coming back. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be gone so long, I didn’t mean to scare you, I—”

Mordon jumped to his feet, clutching the book. Fistfuls of torn pages fell from his lap, twisting and curling into an ugly heap of destroyed words. One page was untouched. He showed this page to Graham.

The changeling story. The goblin prank. Swapping a human child for a goblin child.

“You knew.”

Graham stepped back. Any chance, any ideas, melted into the shadows, slipped from his grasp.

“You knew!”

“No, no, I…I. I didn’t…not until…oh, no.” But even without that book, he had known, hadn’t he? From the moment he’d seen Mordon outside the cell, he had felt it. Had realized something strange was happening. And hadn’t dared let himself realize.

“I am not a monster. I am not a goblin. I am a human being!” Mordon stepped forward again. And again. And he dropped the fragmented book, and his hands curled into fists, and he screamed, “You knew. Not a monster. Not a goblin. Human. Human that no one wanted.” He tore down the tunnel toward Graham, shrieking, “You knew. You knew.”

“It’s…it’s only a story.” Immediately Graham knew he’d said the wrong thing, the worst thing, had snuffed out the very last traces of hope in just four desperate and misspoken and confused words, knew it was horrible to say to a goblin, wished he could swallow the words back, paint them out, but it was too late.

Words spoken mattered.

“It’s never only a story!”

Mordon was on him now, and Graham was trying to move further back into the tunnel when he tripped over something in the dark, some rock or his own cloak tangled around his knees, and he collapsed. He curled into a ball. This was going to hurt.

“That’s why Mordon’s not like others!” Mordon wailed.

“No, no, no, please, I promise I didn’t know, no, don’t,” Graham yelped. This was it. His friends were going to die because of him. Because of his mistakes. If he’d only come back to Mordon immediately, told him what he knew, promised to protect him, if they had gone straight to the goblin king, but he hadn’t. If only, if only. Because of his foolishness. Because of his inaction, because of his fear, because of his nightmares, because of everything. Home, shattered, ruined, gone.

But the blows never came.

Mordon flung the adventuring cap, the prize of freedom, of innocent exploration and discovery and protection, at Graham’s feet. The hat that he’d been so excited to find, the hat that had meant so much. And then he ran.

Graham picked up the hat. Crumpled it against his chest. Hoarse, upset, lost, afraid. Alone. “No.”

[kingblanketfort]

No Official Title Yet!

So this is my FIRST IT fanfic. My first time writing Papawise and Penny. So if it’s a bit off, forgive me, I’ll get better as I go. As of now the fic doesn’t really have any trigger warnings, as I only have the first two chapters, but I’ll list things when it becomes needed. 

Chapter One: Deer in Deadlights     Everything was swirling with smudged colour, and his head was pounding. Sounds could be heard but not discerned, as it was muffled. Eyes squinting and blinking desperate to focus. That’s when he heard a voice that started to become clearer with each passing second.            

    “Hey, kid, take it easy…” it was a rough voice, of low timbre. “it’s gonna feel like hell, but it’ll wear off soon enough.”  Pennywise finally was able to focus on something as it became clearer and found himself staring at the roof of a yellow tent. He was confused and tried to sit up, but that’s when he heard the voice again and felt a gloved hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle but firm press. “I said take it easy…” Pennywise gave a rumbling growl of confusion and annoyance as his eyes cut over to the source. Into view came a clown. 

White face, red nose and lips, a lot like the guise he took, only his hair was blood red and rimmed around the side and back of his head, bald on top, and his eye make up was more minimal and blue. He looked somewhat older, as if in human terms he’d be in his mid to late 50’s. He was noticeably shorter, and a little more stout with thicker arms.            

    “Who the hell are you?” Pennywise managed to croak out, his voice feeling and sounding like he hadn’t spoken in ages. The older clown pulled back his hand and grunted, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket with an accompanying lighter. The quick click and fizzle of the flame popped and soon the smell of smoke filled Pennywise’s nostrils. He took a long drag before blowing it out, lackadaisically.            

    “Heh, wouldn’t believe me if I told ya, kid, but I’ve been expecting you.” At this point Pennywise’s patience was already razor thin and this geezer was pushing it.            

    “Try me.” He growled out. The older clown seemed un-phased by his change in tone and leaned back into the very worn wooden chair.            

    “The name’s Pennywise----” he put his hands up and wiggled them in a sarcastic motion of fancy, “—The Dancing Clown.” The first Pennywise’s eyes narrowed.            

    “You’re lying.” He attempted to sit up again, now realising he was in a very soft bed. Something he wasn’t quite used to feeling. The older Pennywise gave a gravely chuckle.            

    “Told ya you wouldn’t believe me. But it’s the truth.” He stated, blowing out more smoke, pointing to ginger Pennywise with the two fingers that were expertly holding his cigarette between. “You’re from a different universe of Earth, where you used to hunt, different from mine. I was brought here upon my death.  I’ve been here for 27 years in this hellhole. Looks like you got roped in too.” He paused to take another deep drag and lean forward. “let me guess, a group of raggedly children calling themselves “The Losers Club” found a way to bump you off, hm?” Orange haired Pennywise’s mouth twitched into a snarl.

      “How do you know?” he hissed. Again, un-phased, older Pennywise looked at him with growing impatience.             

    “Because that’s what happened to me too. Don’t you get it? We are creatures from the Universe, and it has plenty of alternate realities and planes. Different versions, different timelines and events. Parallel universes are not a foreign concept to you, are they? That’s what this is. And it’s that fuckin’ turtle’s fault.”    

     “WHAT?!” the younger clown nearly roared. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him with my bare hands! I’ll rip him to—!”            

    “Alright, yeah, that’s great, kid. I said that too, but there’s only one way to escape this. It’s atonement. I’ve already gotten the message, I’ve been here for over two decades and still haven’t ‘washed my soul clean’. But first, let’s make this easy---everyone around here calls me Pops or Pappa, so, that’ll work. I’ll call you ‘Penny’ for short. No discussion.” Papawise flicked his ash into a very colourful, yet grimy looking ashtray. Penny’s eyes only flashed angrily.     

    “We have no souls to be washed!” he stated, balling his fists.     

    “Mmhm, you’d think that. I certainly did. We were wrong. So we’re damned.” He then squashed out his cigarette. “right now you just have to rest. I’ve already tried cussing that fucking turtle up and down, but the rage got me nowhere. We don’t have a choice.”             

    “Never! I refuse!” Penny proclaimed and threw the covers off of himself. As he looked down he realised that something….didn’t feel right. He was used to taking a human-esque form before, but…this one felt different somehow. He looked down at his hands and flexed them. Different muscle, different…bone structure sensations under the skin. His head swam again, and he placed a hand to his forehead and instantly knew for sure something was off. His usual forehead which was broader (a feature he purposely chose to warp to give a sense of his otherworldly presence) was gone. It felt like---- “human?!”   

     “Hey, whoa, Pen---” Penny pushed past Papawise and quickly found a small vanity near the far corner, unopened face-paint containers strewn about it. Large hands slamming down on either side of the vanity desk he stared at his reflection for the first time in a long time. He couldn’t believe it! He looked human only he still bore the wild reddish orange hair and facial markings that represented his clown make-up from his persona.            

    “WHAT IS THIS!?” he yelled, turning on Papawise. “Am I … am I a HUMAN!?” he reached up to touch his teeth, his brain trying to will his transformation into his toothy gaping maw, but…it didn’t happen. Just human jawbone with human jaw muscles clenching. He found his childish buck teeth still there, but the rest were just rows of normal teeth. Papawise rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.            

    “We both are…”he replied. “Mataurin wasn’t fucking around when he set this whole thing up. That’s what I keep tryin’ to tell ya. To think that that world’s Pennywise was this childish---”            

    “Shut your mouth! If what you say is true, he can’t stop us, we are the Eater of Worlds! WE ARE GODS---!”            

    “Not. Anymore. Now. Sit. Down.” Papawise demanded, pointing to the bed. But Penny took a shuddering breath, his eyes downcast seeing the tremble of his chest heaving. His hand slid to his chest, and he felt a heartbeat. A very human one. He could barely see straight he was so angry. “look, it’s a big ol’ bummer---trust me, kid, I know. I had the same reaction when---”            

    “Stop calling me that you name THIEF!”            

    “DON”T YOU GET IT?!” Papawise argued back, finally raising his voice, sick of the impetuous nature of this creature. “We are stuck here, chucklehead, and whether you like it or not, we are being forced to atone for our apparent SIN of just EATING TO SURVIVE. The whole thing smells rotten to me sure, but we have NO CHOICE but to MOVE. ON!” this surprisingly shattering boom of a voice rocked Penny and rooted him to the spot, casting him into utter silence. 

Something about this being, though he bore the same name, was extremely commanding and solid. Deep inside his selfish and egotistical, self serving core told him that this being, this version, or whatever he was---was to be respected and oddly, that he shouldn’t even dare to tangle with him. This made a wave of…something run through him, he just didn’t know what. The silence permeated the tent before Papawise sighed heavily and took a step towards him.      

      “I’ve been here long enough….trust me, this is our penance. We have to work for everything now. We toil as the humans do. Brought to their level.” Penny wanted to argue but instead found himself asking only a simple question.            “What do we do?” for a split second, he felt a heavy weight, like a rock settle into the pit of his…stomach? Yeah, that’s it. Stomach. He unconsciously placed his hand over it. Unable to hold back a smirk, Papawise approached him and placed a thick hand on the younger clown’s back, gently leading him to the tent flap, pulling it back.            

    “What do you think?” he revealed a travelling circus troupe. Carriages on wheels, impromptu cages of animals pacing about, the smell of popcorn, cotton candy and fried goods filled the air. People and various performers were talking amongst each other as a few were working in the distance putting up the Big Top, yanking on ropes and driving in stakes. Others were busy setting up their game booths and food trolleys. “Welcome to the real circus, my boy.”

[reid-fiction]

Birth Plans and Baby Kicks

In which you and Spencer go to a birthing class.

A/N: You all have @reid-effect to thank for this. No, seriously, go and thank her. She basically thought this plot up and I just took it and ran with it and now I’m emotional because there’s never enough dad!Spencer in the world. (Also, thanks to the 5-hour long birthing class I watched on Youtube last night and skimmed for random facts to include.)

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“Now, does anyone know the three stages of childbirth?”

The rest of the room was silent, but Spencer’s hand went up immediately. You could feel your cheeks burning a bit, not because you weren’t proud of him for knowing the answer, but because he had known the answer to every single question the instructor had asked for the last two hours. It was a small class - only four couples in total - but you could almost see the other dads rolling their eyes every time Spencer spoke up.

“Stage 1 would be labor, which is divided into three stages in and of itself: early labor, active labor and transitional labor. Early labor is when the cervix dilates from 1-4 cm, active labor is between 5-7 cm and then transitional labor is the final 8-10 cm. Early labor is the slowest and transitional is the fastest. Stage 2 is pushing the baby out through the birth canal, and Stage 3 is the delivery of the placenta after birth.”

He had said all this in what sounded like only one breath and, even though you were very aware that your husband was already a wealth of knowledge on pretty much every subject, even you couldn’t help but drop your mouth open a bit in impressive shock. A quick glance up to the instructor and you could tell she was experiencing the same thing.

She swallowed, nodding slowly, and then shot Spencer a quick smile. 

“Yes, that’s all absolutely correct and actually beyond even what I was asking. Very well explained, Spencer. I should have had you teach this class, and I could have stayed home!”

The instructor laughed at her own joke, but the rest of the room didn’t seem as impressed. 

“Alright, the next question would be: When is a good time to head to the hospital once you’re in labor?”

Spencer’s hand went up again, and all you could do was throw a small, apologetic smile to the other couples in the room. It wasn’t your fault that Spencer knew all the answers and the others didn’t, but you wanted everyone to have a fair chance.

“The 5-1-1 rule,” Spencer explained. “Contractions are five minutes apart, 1 minute in length, and have been consistently like that for an hour.”

“Right again!” The instructor smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. “Okay, we’re going to move on to practicing some breathing techniques, so I’m going to turn the lights down and get some music going. Dads, grab one of the exercise balls and a blanket from the corner, and moms are going to get themselves in whatever comfortable position they want.”

You waited patiently for Spencer to bring back the items, and then carefully draped the top half of your body over the ball. Your belly was so big now that no position was particularly ‘comfortable’, but you did your best.

“Now dads, get behind your partners and I want you to place your hands on either side of her hips. Moms, focus on breathing in and out with my voice, and dads do a gentle massage to relive the pressure on her pelvis.”

You felt Spencer kneel down behind you and both hands go on your hips. Even though you weren’t actually in labor, the gentle pressing of his fingers into your skin felt heavenly. The baby had been resting on your bladder for what felt like the last month, and any relief was welcome relief. 

“Is this okay?” Spencer whispered, leaning up so you could hear him.

“Mmm, feels really good. My back has been killing me the last few days.”

“You know, if the baby happens to be in a posterior position - meaning the back of their head is against your back - that’s where you’ll feel all the contractions. Typically, the baby is laying anterior, so you would feel the contractions more to the front.”

You nodded, hearing what he was saying, but far too focused on how good his massage was feeling to really take it in. What you did hear, however, was the dad next to you talking to his wife.

“If he’s a doctor, why is he even taking this class? He clearly already knows everything.”

The dad had meant to say it low enough so only his wife would hear, but both you and Spencer were within range. You suddenly felt a strong sense of protectiveness over your husband; you didn’t like how the others seemed annoyed with how much he knew. Spencer, however, shrugged it off and glanced over at them, politely.

“Oh, I’m actually not a medical doctor,” he said. “I just read a lot. I have delivered a baby in the field before, when I was still working my old job. But, it’s mostly just head knowledge, not hands-on experience.”

Just like most other people who met Spencer for the first time, the dad didn’t seem to know how to respond. Instead, he gave a muffled, “Mmm”, and went back to massaging his wife. 

Over the years, you had tried to learn how to not let moments like that bother you - they certainly didn’t bother Spencer - but the pregnancy hormones were currently wreaking havoc on your emotions and, today, you were bothered. 

It occupied your thoughts the entire time you were supposed to be practicing your breathing, and it was apparent to Spencer that your mind was elsewhere.

“Remember your cleansing breath, (Y/N),” he reminded you, gently. “After you finish breathing through the contraction, you need to take a deep one.”

You nodded, doing what he said very halfheartedly. The class continued on like this with the instructor going over the different types of birth plans, the process of an epidural, when a c-section was necessary, and the side effects of medication. By the time she dismissed the group, you were a ball of nerves. It was all you could do not to burst out crying until you and Spencer got back to the car. 

“I’m starving,” Spencer announced as he fastened his seat belt. “Do you want to go someplace or order takeout?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumbled. “Whichever you want.”

Spencer glanced over at you, frowning a bit at how solemn you sounded. But, he had been fully aware for the last 8 months that your moods would be up and down. If you wanted to talk about it, you would, but he wasn’t going to push you. You were probably just hungry and tired and needed to rest for a bit once you got home.

Ultimately, Spencer decided on takeout from your favorite burger place. He had thought about Chinese, but you had been having issues with heartburn the last few times you had gone there and the last thing he wanted was to make you more miserable. 

As soon as you got home, Spencer went to work getting the food set out on the table while you went to change into more comfortable clothes. After about 10 minutes, when you hadn’t emerged from the bedroom, Spencer started to wonder what was going on. He walked over to the door and knocked softly.

“(Y/N), I’ve got everything ready. Do you want to eat now?”

When he didn’t receive any response, he knocked again - a little bit louder - and pushed door open a crack.

“(Y/N)?”

When he had looked into the room just enough to spot you sitting on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed in what you had been wearing before, he opened the door wider and stepped inside. It took him less than a second to realize that you were silently sobbing and he immediately dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this!” you blubbered.

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t have a baby!”

Spencer, equally confused and concerned, reached up to push your hair out of your face and swipe away the tears on your cheeks.

“What do you mean, you can’t have a baby? Of course you can! You’re even more capable now than you were this morning after that class. You know everything you need to know short of actually doing it for yourself, why would you think you can’t do it?”

“You heard all of what she said,” you wailed, waving your hand aimlessly as if that would help your explanation be clearer. “The birth plans and the epidurals and the side-effects. What if I plan something and it all goes wrong? What if the epidural wears off? What if the baby is prot-posturen-...”

“Posterior?” Spencer prompted.

“Yeah, that thing,” you sniffed. “What if the baby is backwards and I can’t push them out! I can’t remember all those breathing techniques and how to lay and count! And I HATE needles, but I don’t want to go natural either because I hate pain! Spencer, I can’t have a baby! I’m not strong enough to do it, and I’m just going to do it all WRONG!”

Spencer could feel his heart breaking right along with yours the longer he listened to you pour your fears out to him. He had known from the beginning that you were nervous, but it was always something you had worked through together. He had no idea that you had been holding all of this in - even just since the class - and all he wanted to do was help you.

“And then, what about after the baby is born?” you continued. “I don’t know how to take care of a baby! How am I supposed to know if they’re crying because they’re hungry, or wet, or just unhappy? I’ve read about PPD; what if I end up with that and can’t be a good mom to my baby because I’m too depressed! What if you leave me because you don’t want to put up with me anymore?”

That was where Spencer drew the line. He was more than happy to let you tell him everything you were worried about, but there was no way he was going to let you think - even for a split second - that he would ever leave you.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, softly but sternly. “I don’t want you to ever, ever worry about that. I love you, and I love our baby more than anything. My job is to be here to help you through everything, from the moment that baby started growing in your stomach until the moment we send them off to college. I’m not going to run off on you just because you’re having a hard time. You’re going to be tired and you’re going to be cranky sometimes, but that comes with being a parent.”

He moved his hands down so they rested on your swollen belly and smiled. 

“Do you have any idea how amazing your body is? It knows, instinctively, how to push the baby out. It’s going to expand and contract and work in ways that even amaze me, as someone who has read dozens of books on this.”

It seemed as though the baby could sense that their dad was close by, because you started to feel a tiny little foot pressing out against his hand. Spencer smiled, rubbing his thumb over the area he could feel the baby moving.

“You are going to be an incredible mom,” he continued, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your belly. “And I’m going to be there with you at the hospital throughout the entire thing. Whatever you need, I’ll do. I’m there to help you remember when to breathe and how to count, and to distract you from the needles and the pain, and to massage your back when it starts to ache, and to encourage you and tell you how unbelievably proud I am of what you’re doing.”

He placed a few more kisses on your belly as the baby continued to flutter inside of you, and then slowly pushed himself up so he was looking at you face-to-face.

“And, I’m going to be there the moment our baby comes into the world - whether it’s forwards, backwards, upside down or they have to get them out another way - and it’s going to be the greatest moment of my entire life because that baby is ours. Every time I look at them, I’m going to be reminded of you and how much I love you.” 

You were still crying, but now it was less out of frustration and fear and more out of an unreal sense of awe that you had managed to end up with, arguably, the greatest guy in existence. Spencer wasn’t perfect of course but, in this moment, he was everything you never knew you needed.

You weren’t sure what to say, nor that you would even be able to form words, so you did the next best thing by leaning in closer and pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back, eagerly, keeping one hand on your belly and the other up around the back of your head as the baby continued to kick in your womb.

“Someone’s very active tonight,” Spencer chuckled, pulling back and glancing down at your belly. “Maybe we’re not giving them enough love?”

“I remember when feeling a baby kick used to freak you out,” you smirked. “Back when JJ was pregnant. How do you feel about it now?”

Spencer paused, pursing his lips and smiling.

“I think it’s the greatest thing in the world.”

You felt fresh tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you laced your fingers through his hair, watching him place kiss after kiss on your belly. 

“Yeah,” you mused, “you’re not the only one.”

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Tag List:

@cynbx@gabriellewritermua @wheresthewater @toomanyfandomsshreya@thatisthemagic @helayes @marvelouspotterhead @randomfangirl1415 @criminally-me  @the-unfortunate-fangirl @everyday-imfangirling @skrrrrrrrrrrt @jhillio @elenarogersbarnes13 @reid-187 @spencerreid-iq187 @princesswagger15 @spence-imagines @flashfanfics

[ask-jaghatai-khan]

The Vampire of Cairn

// A story set on the forgotten Pariah Planet, Cairn. Entirely inhabited by the soulless human mutants known as “Blanks”, the world was settled before the rise of the Imperium and remains cut off from the rest of the galaxy to this day. But secret intelligence suggests that the world is not as safe as it seems, and that danger might still lurk in a galaxy lost to myth.

—

A fog bank was rolling in, though here in the city it wasn’t so prominent save for on the major streets. What few transports there were, on the roads or in the sky, made themselves sparse rather than deal with the lack of visibility, as people sheltered for a while in the shops and offices to avoid the damp chill. The misty pall seemed to run down the main thoroughfares like a wave. It would pass soon, but for now it hung over the alleys and side-streets, shrouding the tops of buildings and casting the whole world in a dull silver, both the neon signs and midday sun becoming faint and washed-out in the gloom.

Zhi’s destination was an alley downtown, by 26th and Baobeng. His personal transport, a sleek black sedan, navigated itself along the reflective guidelines of the ground-level roads as he went over his notes. He’d not been to this city before – if you could call it a city. It was more of a post-industrial town, now in the final movements towards establishing itself as a cultural center. He didn’t recall what Tianshi was known for and he didn’t much care. The compact little city was not much different from many of these other sparse population centers in the DB Jinkou Provence, but it was the pattern that concerned him. His last lead for his current assignment had been a whole city over, in the more remote Borios. It suggested the mark was not just on the move, but capable of long-distance travel without notice, maybe even without assistance.

There was a ping on the console as the ETA hit two minutes. The Investigator closed his documents and detached his holopad from its charge port, before the government-issue transport skidded around to the alley’s entrance and settled down on its unfolding wheels. There were several other cars there already, some civil service, some civilian, all clustered around the official cordon.

It was lowkey, which was to Zhi’s liking. No flashing lights, no big groups of reporters. One local Sentinel was speaking with a handful of private broadcasters, but all the emergency vehicles were running silent, their personnel milling around inside, maybe processing data. The whole setup made it clear that whatever had happened, it had passed. Zhi’s flat shoes made his approach noticeable as they snapped along the damp pavement, the dark surface of the road reflecting the point lights of the various transport vehicles.

He flashed his badge, but the Sentinel didn’t even try to stop him. He walked with the air of his profession, which was not to be cut in front of. Moving on, the Investigator moved into the alley, cast in long shadows by the spotlights that had been brought in to examine the scene.

There were a couple of sealed dumpsters, a storm drain, and not much more. The adhesive residue marked where posters might have once been put up, but nothing more remained. Compared to the streetfront, where neon signs, greenboxes, and other solar gatherers gave off color and brightness despite the fog, the alley felt quite barren. All grey ferrocrete and weathered service pipes.

The scene of the crime itself was obvious, and rather simple. One body, face down in the damp, looking pretty bloody as well. Dried blood was being rehydrated by the moisture in the air, and was doing nothing for the corpse, giving off a slight smell of iron and onset decay. Two more Sentinels - marked by their dark outerwear, utility harnesses, and subtle insignias – stood about the scene before one took notice of the approaching Investigator.

“Hello.” They said with simple but respectful affectation. Almost questioning, as if Zhi wasn’t supposed to be there.

He extended a hand as he approached, his own dark trench coat matching the local colors rather well.

“Investigator Zhi, Consensus assigned.” Introducing himself, he held up his badge once more. The little metallic chit marked him as under permanent internal security contract to the Consensus Sciences Service.

“Li. I’m with the local Sentinels.” Her precise vocabulary identified her as a woman, and a rather metropolitan one too, for a Sentinel in a northern industrial town. Her hair was styled into a tight pink stripe on her head, and her matching hued eyes suggested cybernetics. Such quirks weren’t common outside the major hives, “We weren’t excepting the Fed.”

“Yes, well we’re just checking all our leads right now and this was brought to my attention.” Zhi clarified. He was far more mundane looking in comparison, as fit a Federal Investigator. Not drawing attention was part of the game.

“And might I ask a little more?” she shot back, still with respect though her body language was unyielding, “This is under our jurisdiction, after all. Is there something bigger we should be worried about?”

Sentinels were local law enforcement, though not in the conventional sense of eras past. They were more like an office between a community watch and a militia. More ad-hoc and concerned with the protection and proper law enforcement of their districts than any higher loyalties. With the right moves they could be amenable, but they were very ground-level and had some of the strongest unions, making outright hostility towards them a bad idea for even Federal agents.

Zhi took off his wide-brimmed hat, making clearer eye contact with Li.

“There’s some suspicion this might be part of a larger series of murders. That’s—”

“You mean the Vampire?” the other Sentinel came up then, no longer content in the background, and with some verve in his voice.

“That’s all I’m at liberty to say.” Zhi’s face went dark.

“Sentinel Chaleb.” Li gestured, “Apologies, though it’s a legitimate question. It’s been around the stations. Could it be that killer?”

“Impossible to say either way until I’ve had a look, eh?” the Investigator tilted his head.

Chaleb. The man must have been from somewhere rural before becoming a Sentinel in Tianshi. His name, inflection, and appearance – paler and with sandy hair – had the twinge of Goth in them. Didn’t much matter, but it was an observation Zhi made.

“Here.” Li stepped aside, gesturing to the body that lay half slumped onto its face in the damp. Zhi got in close for a better look.

Man of about middle age, perhaps seventy-eight, as he seemed in good health. His hair was dark and short-cropped, messy now that the damp had worked through whatever gel it looked like he’d used. He was dressed in simple formalwear, with the open-front black jacket that went down to about his knees, and the black underclothes to match.

“Victim was a Mr. Jia Ming, as our first data responses have come through.” Li informed, “Local. Worked at a distribution firm for signage products, I think. We took his datapad and are seeing about getting permission to access it from next of kin.”

“Injuries?” Zhi asked.

“Broken collarbone and shoulder on the left side—” he could see it, the way the joint folded in on itself in an odd way, “Though the coroner scan didn’t think that was simultaneous with main cause of death. They’re still processing the data.” She didn’t need to point, as it was obvious the man’s throat was cut wide open. It was clean, yet broad, as if done by a swordsman in an action vid. The man’s skin had gone ghost pale in death from how much of his blood had flowed out onto the pavement.

“He was found around 2 a.m. this morning.” Chaleb interjected, “The owner of this sandwich shop was closing up and found him.” He pointed to the wall on their right, against which the dumpsters sat.

“You say the shoulder wasn’t simultaneous with cause of death.” Zhi stood back up, content in verifying the facts.

“No, but it wasn’t from a blow either. The blunt force trauma doesn’t seem to match up from what the scans show. The pattern looked more like—”

“Impact from above?” Zhi shot in. She was good. Maybe trained to be a Sentinel.

“How’d you know?”

“Oh that’s spooky.” Chaleb shook his head, “Absolutely the Vampire. Did you see that one clip online? They were saying they could probably scale sheer walls.”

“Yeah so can I, if you sweet-talk my quartermaster enough.” The Investigator cut him off, “Was there anything else of interest?”

“Possible cam footage. We can’t get it, though.” Li gave him.

“Why not?”

“It’s the security cam from the sandwich shop. The owner’s spooked, maybe drowsy. They didn’t want to give us access.”

“I’ll talk to them.” Zhi assured, gesturing with his hat in a vague direction “away” from the scene, “Do you want to be involved, then?”

Li nodded, signing off to Chaleb that she’d be leaving and that he should guard the area of the corpse. It might be good, if the Sentinel had talked to the storeowner beforehand, to have her there again. With luck, the civilian might be put more at ease by the continuity.

As they got out of earshot of the other Sentinel, rounding the corner of the alley side by side, Li turned towards the Investigator.

“Do you think it’s the Vampire, then?” she asked, though the look on her face told Zhi that she wasn’t keen on using the name, her pink eyes squinting.

“I’m getting sick of hearing that word.” Zhi walked forward another pace, annoyed at the stop, the sign and door of the sandwich shop visible just down the road.

As far as he knew, the nickname had been picked for the style in which the killer worked. Clean kills, along with the untraceable escapes. Still sounded stupid to him, but then most spree-killer nicknames tended to be.

“There’s been a lot of strange things in the news. People have been putting together all kinds of theories.” She continued, trudging beside him, “There were those signals they were talking about from the Jingshe belt that they said were nothing a month later. Then that meteor strike just a few weeks ago near Shuguan, and the murders in Shuguan they stopped reporting on after a week, and now these deaths going from city to city all the way here.”

“So what then, alien serial killer from outer space?” Zhi tried to sound as sarcastic as possible, wishing they could just pick up the damn pace.

“Maybe? There’s precedent. The Men of Iron came from space. We came from space.” She wasn’t wrong.

“Sounds like a fun story.” The Investigator just brushed it off as they reached the shop. The glass sliding door was barred with a shutter but knocking still produced a solid sound.

“I’m just saying, that’s what the theories have been online.” Li finished her piece, face flushing a little as if she’d been embarrassed at getting so caught up in the theory.

“Don’t believe everything you read on the net.” Zhi replied. The Sentinel glanced at his eyes – the man couldn’t have been much older than her based off looks, but his eyes – they seemed to be weighed down, drooping with some deep fatigue the rest of his face resisted.

There was a clanking, a latch-releasing kind of sound, and one of the individual panels that made up the collapsible door screen pulled away to reveal the eyes of a middle-aged individual. A woman, maybe, though as a city-man Zhi never made assumptions by habit.

“You’re back?” they asked.

“I heard you might have recordings that could help us.” The Investigator spoke up, while Li just provided aesthetic support, “Really all I’m interested in. Wouldn’t take a moment of your time, and I won’t cause any trouble.”

“Who are you?” their eyes were brimming with concern.

He flashed his badge, though he doubted they’d recognize it by training, “Federal Investigator. This might be important; you’d be doing us all a big favor.”

They shook their head, “I-I don’t want to get involved with anything. This is all really messed up.”

“Yeah, that tends to be the case.” He nodded, “May I ask your name?”

“Ling.” they gave.

“Your shop?” Zhi asked.

“It’s my shop, yes.” They answered.

“I’m not fully authorized for this, but I could promise you a degree of protection if you agree to help me, Ling.” Zhi tried his luck, “Maybe a vacation ticket as a gift? You can leave town for a little bit, and I imagine even if there is danger it’ll have blown over by then. Does that sound amenable?”

They seemed to mull it over for a bit, before their eyes conveyed a nod, and the latch shut. A few moments later, and the automated rails of the door screen were lifting the metal plates into the ceiling, and they were let inside with the accompanying ring of a bell.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Ling stammered, “It’s just this kind of stuff never happens out here. Maybe the occasional thief, but nothing like this.” They ushered the two inside.

It was quite a large shop, with a good amount of sitting room. Zhi suspected outdoor seating might not be so popular in this town, what with the fog drifts being predominant for most of the year. It was amazing the greenboxes on the buildings were in good order.

“Here, just follow me. I haven’t checked the footage. Just download it off, if you want. I’d really rather not look at it.” The shopkeep was rather short, old in appearance but with a youthful demeanor and a neat bun hairstyle. Altogether regular and tidy, and very out of place in any kind of trouble.

The duo was led back through the shop, past the kitchen, up a flight of stairs, and through a locked door to the second level. Their destination was one of several doors lining the hallway, like a janitorial closet. Ling gave them access with her datapad. It was a small room, though very neat and with an impressive computer setup, with multiple monitors and a decent unit from what Zhi could surmise.

“Pretty heavy-duty stuff. This all for security?” Li inquired.

“This building is actually bigger than just this shop. There’re some offices upstairs, a few other food places around the back, and uh, some apartments. Very compact. I live here too.” They explained, “It’s just I’m also the building manager, so I deal with ensuring most of the security and utilities.”

It wasn’t so uncommon. Zhi just didn’t know how they had the energy to run an eatery while also being the community in-between for the whole building. He’d be as high-strung if he had to deal with anything more than what his one job already dumped in his lap.

The civilian logged in and gestured to the chair, stepping out of the way of the two officers.

“Just, uh – do what you need to do and then you can just leave it. I’ll give you space.” They smiled, “Oh but uh, just the security cam footage please.”

“Of course.” Li assured.

“Yeah, I’m not looking for a lawsuit, I’ll just be a moment.” Zhi was a bit brusquer.

“Strange one.” Li commented once they were alone, as she leaned over Zhi’s shoulder to watch him at work.

“Overworked. Could’ve been anything, they’d have snapped from the stress. Just unfortunate it had to be a murder.” Perception was something of a trade specialty. Having dealt with all manner of civilians who had actual things to hide, he’d grown accustomed to sussing out the weird from the suspect.

Li watched with some surprise as the Investigator brought up one of his hands. She hadn’t noticed until now, but he wore a drab brown glove on just one hand, having done most of his gesturing with the other until now. He pulled off the covering to expose unfleshed augmetics – a silver and angular surrogate with many odd details about its surface. With a few internal adjustments, as the various components moved on their own, one prong stuck up from his index finger. He inserted the interface probe into the input port of the computer. At once, his operations on the monitor moved ten times faster, as he navigated as quick as thought.

“Cool aug’.” she commented, as one cyborg to another.

“Trade tool.” He said without much passion.

In moments he’d located the cam files and sorted through the different streams from the few sentries around the building to the one that sat at the edge of the rooftop, watching the alley. So much security. If he was a Sentinel he’d maybe be concerned that something unsavory was up in this commune, but it wasn’t his department. Maybe some kind of hedonist club. So long as it was nothing sketchy it wasn’t a problem anyways.

“Alright, and—” he muttered, as he spun back the hours to the night before, looking for the moment at which the body on the pavement would stand itself back up again.

“There!” Li pointed, as if he couldn’t see it. The man had been cutting through the alley, and a whirl of something fast had dropped him like a bag of rocks. Zhi did his best to zoom, but the resolution was lacking in the darkness.

“Someone over him.” He assessed, “Holding him down.” He pointed with his free hand. On top of the form of the victim was a hunched figure. Dark, though its head stood out by a faint glint in the shadows. It was stooped over the man, holding him there as he writhed, doing something. They waited.

There was a sudden flash of movement. The figure’s arm came up holding something in its hand, and the victim’s head jerked back with it. His throat had been slashed. Without pause, the killer stood and rushed with almost inhuman agility over to one of the dumpsters, vaulting off it, then the sheer side of the wall, and they were out of frame.

“What on Cairn?” Li muttered.

“Wait.” Zhi wanted to check something. He rewound the footage, back before the first attack. He played it slow, watching it unfold as the dark figure returned to the kill, and then shot up into the sky.

“Augmetics? How’d they fall like that?” the Sentinel asked.

“You’re killing me. Please.” Zhi shushed her, his gaze trained on the screen. She glanced at him in irritation but noticed something had come into those drooping eyes. They were locked on the monitor like a sniper’s scope.

“Here.” He pointed again. It was at a portion of the roof’s edge just caught by the camera. There was a shadow and – a foot. A black-clad boot, resting just at the very corner of the camera’s periphery.

“What kind of camera—? Ah.” The Investigator check the readouts in the corner of the footage, “Microreceptor. Explains the resolution as much as why our perp didn’t catch the camera.” Partial-3D microreceptor, a kind of microcam preferred for being very small and discreet in part, but also for its unique rendering pattern. You could “rotate” microceptor footage in three dimensions to some degree, making it easier to spot details in normal blind spots.

“The peripheries on these things are usually blurry.” Zhi spoke. Li had some familiarity, but she was more focused on the footage, “But if I uncrop the frame let’s see what we can get.”

He did so, as the whole edge of the recording pulled back to show the actual rendering of the scene. It was circular, the center in full clarity while the edges feathered out in the peripheral vision of the microceptor. Li gasped, while Zhi sat still as a dead man.

It was a humanoid figure perched on the edge of the rooftop, kneeling as if ready to leap. The outline was blurry from the recording technique, but the image was clear enough. Human, or humanoid, with a black skintight suit enveloping its entire body. Faint distortions in the silhouette suggested items strapped to the figure’s frame, though it was hard to tell.

What was clearest was the face. Inhuman, twisted, insidious. It was a mask, as far as Zhi could tell. He hoped it was, at the very least. It was made in the shape of a leering white skull, distended at the cranium into an elongated form that curved back over their shoulders. As if that was not strange enough, one eye was absent, instead being replaced with a much larger augmetic lens, which swept back with its own tube casing parallel to the side of the mask. The distortion gave them just the bare form – the stylized skull, the one odd eye, the freakish head, all set atop the otherwise sleek, lithe body. Zhi restarted the footage and watched the ghoulish shape leap from out of obscurity down into the alley, crushing the unsuspecting man beneath its weight. going about whatever it had subjected him to before the final cut.

Li didn’t say it aloud, but she thought it in her head. The word seemed right, for such a ghastly anomaly. “Vampire.”

Zhi wished he could’ve been happy with finding his mark. Instead his thoughts were flooded with threads, choices. There was going to be untold friction with the CSS, to say nothing of the matter of catching whatever this – thing was. Its skull face just leered with cold, unmoving expression as he rewound the footage again, staring into its empty mask eyes. The body of a human – and the visage, the movements of something else.

The world of Cairn did not yet have an answer for this.

[iamjjmmma]

“The Emphasis of a Debt”- A Rewrite of Cami’s Story She Posted On Tumblr

Glitchtale is by @camilaart

The original story can be found here.

Note: I DID ask permission first and will post proof shortly afterwards.

I hope I kept the original message of the story, and I hope you guys enjoy this rewrite. The Avalon. Rave remembered the first time his always-too-much-coffee assistant proposed it to him. It was the first time the office's normal, hair-pricking breeze seemed even colder than usual, the first time he had to test it to see if even his most combat-ready troops could efficiently fight with it. He remembered how all the bureaucracy had been cast aside for just one second, and how he stared at it. Just stared at it. He stared at the throbbing and humming, the constant buzz and chatter. Magic. Rave always felt it. He always felt it pulsing though him with every beat of his heart, always felt its presence with every memory that seared though his mind. He always felt it. If he held a person's hand just tight enough, if he heard the sun in a person's laughter just long enough, the magic would take hold of him and embrace him, catch him, keep him hidden, steady, still. But he knew that until the Avalon, he never truly saw magic. The Avalon. If his assistant meant it to provide any sort of protection, it didn't show it. Rave could see the magic. It was indiscriminate, a violent mixing bowl of every trait, thrashing back and forth, whipping its way through every corner, a wave on one of the beaches he'd taken Alina to, tossed- and in a split second, stuck, and reverberated back before it crashed into the shore once again. Rave always found it funny- although his stomach stuttered every time he thought of it- he’d let the Avalon be installed in the local school. That such a fire could be put in such calmness. That he let this chaotic, drumming, destructive thing in the same building where toddling kindergartners ran amok in the playgrounds, where the teachers told each other of their husbands and how their babies finally graduated from holding onto the couch, where children learned what friendship meant, what sacrifice meant, what family meant, what finality meant. The Avalon. An idea that Rave and his colleagues found so wonderful stopped short. It turned into a raptor poised for flight when one afternoon, when the wind left a sour taste in Rave’s mouth instead of refreshing him, it came. It came. It was attracted to the throbbing, changing, twisting magic, and Rave saw just how fucking big it was, how its feet alone could hold three of him stacked in the air and terrified, and if he didn’t have those two traits holding him up, he thought that he would run. But as he saw a woman with black hair get tossed to the side and unceremoniously crushed- not Jessica, of course; the news that some rubble had fallen in the west side of the city, killing a middle-aged woman, had come a long time ago- the parts of him that stayed deep inside told him to fight, dammit, and fight until that thing was gone. To fight until… until Jessica was proud of him. Until Alina was proud of him. “Sir?” The assistant toddled his way to him, his brown boots looking stained and his coffee mysteriously gone. The professionalism Rave so loved came again, slow. “Yes, what is it?” “Do… do we… sir…” “Did you say something?” “Yes, I was asking if there was any protocol we could fol-” That was enough. That was enough for Rave to quickly realize that he couldn’t tell his assistant anything because there was no protocol. So his fight-or-flight mechanism turned into a machine of its own. His hands grew mechanic as he waved them to everyone, asking for their attention. Think. Think. He had to think. Could they muster a fight, or do so much as drive it away? Hell no. Rave knew this to begin with. If this thing scattered into thousands and thousands of its normal-sized selves, it would take his team 40 or so hours to finish it off at peak efficiency, with no sizeable loss of life. So ending this thing’s life obviously wasn’t an option. Could he evacuate his team? Somehow take down the Avalon for a few seconds, and- no. If he was pulling off this crap off with his reasoning, then it was no wonder that his family was so disappointed in him, wasn’t it? A distraction. That’s what he needed. And it’s what they were going to need if they were going to survive. The first people he could process, the first people his brain could muster to make out, were Nadine, Juliane, and Michael. Nadine’d had a baby that last winter. Juliane was eighteen years old and had made it here through pure sweat and genius. And Michael was a refugee from a war in another district. He knew who, he knew what the distraction would be. “Alright, everyone, I need the Avalon folded up and hauled off to the park area as soon as you can.” Other than for people whose job was imperative for their immediate survival, everyone had to help with pushing the device. Too many lives. Too many people in that school. His assistant fiddled with his collar as they stopped to take a short rest midway, and Rave had to pat his shoulder, tell him it was alright. Within five minutes of nearby buildings and lives being ruined by the beast, the Avalon was set at full power. Already, through the cameras that Jessica confided to him had killed a boy who was shorter than an eight-year-old and not any more than ten years older than that, he could see a few people or so evacuating to the nearby district. Nadine’d had a baby that last winter. Juliane was eighteen years old and had made it here through pure sweat and genius. And Michael was a refugee from a war in another district. Rave smiled, called everyone to his attention again. “A’ight. Once this bitch is destroyed, how’s about we go over to the other district and get a beer or two?” The cheers were almost universal, and with a slight chuckle that brought him a chill, brought him back to his machine. Nadine’d had a baby. Juliane was eighteen. And Michael was a refugee. Rave, along with a group of powerful kindness wizards, stood next to the machine. And they waited. They waited. They waited for a few hours, introduced themselves to each other, talked to them about hoped-for trips to the theater and the beach, about their hobbies, about card games Rave hadn’t even heard of. Then again, Rave hadn’t discovered much outside of work. As one of them was about to tell Rave what color her wedding dress was, the monster came, and the wizards promptly trapped the monster. The Avalon. It was sinking, it was failing, parts of it were faltering, turning into nothingness. No. No! And the monster began to thrash as much as the magic in the Avalon did. With each spasm, an entire twenty feet of grass was simply gone, and with each roar, he could feel his ears ringing and those who were particularly sensitive set on the verge of crying. This was much worse. Oh, God, it was much worse than anything he’d anticipated. “Quickly! Quickly!” There was no instruction on what to do. Instinct, instinct that was older than the mountains around them, poured in them and through them and shot through them like the sun’s beam, and they used their SOULs to make up for what the Avalon couldn’t do. After a few seconds, the smallest one coughed something Rave couldn’t see into her hand, stared at it for a few seconds, and slumped to the ground, vomiting in the arms of the medic that took her away. And with that, their SOULs were the only thing that was the difference between evacuation and being just another casualty. Although their reactions weren’t nearly as dramatic as the smallest one’s, one by one the wizards still fell to the ground, shook or spasmed, or simply fell unconscious. Rave could slowly feel the apprehension seep into his brain with every hit the monster landed, and each time a medic came to swipe one of them away, the realization became clearer and clearer, the instincts growing more and more primal. Rave was the only one left. How could he have done this? How could the words he said to Jessica be her only goodbye? How could he have accidentally trampled Alina’s doll, left it backstage for her to find? And how could he have abandoned his colleagues to do something even one of the entry-level associates would call foolhardy? The city. The city was at stake. Nadine’d had a baby. Juliana was eighteen. And Michael was a refugee. If he hadn’t been born a mix of Justice and Perseverance, he didn’t think he’d make it past the first minute, let alone the first three. But for seven horrible minutes he stood there, groaning as if he’d been shot multiple times, ordering his team to leave. Nadine’d had a baby. Juliana was eighteen. And Michael was a refugee. He was the Avalon now. He felt the magic beat through him, the pulse dominating his every sense. Although it most likely wasn’t happening, he could feel his eyes burning more than the boy whom Jessica’s cameras had killed, he could feel his willpower blossoming more than Jessica had fought against the blobs with such passion, such ferocity. He was the magic, his memories were the magic, his mortality, his memories was the magic. He was God. At least until the blob stopped thrashing and decided it wanted to grow instead. The adrenaline coursed through Rave's veins, but as soon as he realized he was at his limit, that the Avalon was at its limit. He felt something...else. Something he shouldn't have felt. Peace. Peace? His SOUL was shuddering, and he was at peace?          The beast was just as relentless as Rave's peace. It pushed and creaked in every direction, every nook and cranny of what Rave was striving to create. But with every crack the monster made, the peace swept, seeped into a different part of him. With every crack, he could feel his chest being pressed harder and harder, feel his heart struggle more and more, his ribs closer and closer to the verge of cracking. Nadine’d had a baby last winter. Juliana was eighteen, and had made it in here out of pure sweat and genius. And Michael was a refugee from one of the neighboring districts. Rave didn’t know his vision was blurry until he tried to focus on how much progress the blob gained and realized he couldn’t make out much other than it being “very far”. He smiled, and was it peace? Was it exhaustion? They were nearly the same. “Are you proud of me?… Noah?” Nadine’d had a baby. Juliana was eighteen. And Michael was a refugee. The monster broke free of the shield, and each piece shattered across the- park.- Rave tasted copper, shuddered, fell to his side, made three wracking coughs, twitched a little, and stopped. Juliana knew how close the monster was. She touched his chest for a pulse, realized how swollen it was, realized Rave’s eyes were still open. She took him by the shoulders, dragged him towards where they had evacuated while the shield was still up. She snatched the walkie-talkie even as she felt the sun set around her. “I need a medic! I need a-” That was the last thing Juliana could say before she felt the monster’s frigid hands on the back of her neck.