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whumpsecretsantaevent · 3 years ago

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Secret Santa Gift: @blood-is-compulsory

This is a Secret Santa event so there will be a blanket trigger warning for all entries, so read at your own risk! Potential trigger warnings may include nsfw themes as well as gore and possible squicks.

The Doctor and the Devil

for @blood-is-compulsory

Content Warnings: gore (I am not kidding about this it is graphic), vivisection, genital mention (nonsexual), lab whump, vaguely intimate whumper

The Doctor always loved this part.

Today’s subject was a self-professed demon, one Lev Vendrasco, or, as the Doctor was more likely to call him, Subject 133-LV. The Doctor wished they could say they had planned their meeting, but really it was more of a crime of necessity. They supposed they should have known that eventually, someone would attempt to trace the rash of mysterious kidnappings and that if that someone was in any way good at their job, they would eventually find their way back to the source.

The Doctor was never particularly careful about how they acquired their subjects: getting away with something primarily involved looking authoritative enough not to be questioned until you had already left, and a layperson would have a hard time tracking them anywhere. So would standard law enforcement. They didn’t technically exist, and having the backing of organised crime made little indiscretions disappear rather easily. This Vendrasco, however, was noticeably skilled at his profession and had managed, despite the odds, to find his way to their sanctum, their beloved Facility Mu.

All his cleverness had done him very little good, of course. Once inside a facility at which the Doctor was head researcher, a subject of any interest found themselves hard-pressed to escape. They had been quite excited to collect another otherworldly specimen — they had used up or lost all of their others by now — and not having any new research to do left them open to perform duller activities, such as working the clinic. Now, the private investigator had no recourse but to inspect the laboratory ceiling, which was about the only thing he could see from his position on the examination table.

They had already prepared him for surgery. Their own special paralytic formulation left him motionless from the neck down, though breathing and talking would still be possible, and pain would be dulled, though not absent. They addressed Vendrasco as they pulled on their surgical mask and adjusted their glasses on their face.

“You know, it has been a very long time since I have had the opportunity to perform this procedure. I am quite excited! I am certain it will be instructive.”

Lev watched them warily. “What sort of procedure is it?”

“Oh! Did I not tell you? Translating it to English is rather difficult. What would I call it? A gross multi-system vivisection. I — gently, of course — remove particular organs for inspection and cataloguing, and, when I’ve finished, replace and reattach them. You need not worry about function after the fact. I have done this before, you know. Between your regenerative ability and my precise stitching, you ought to be restored to your previous state.”

“Anything I can do to convince you not to do that?” the demon responded drily.

“Certainly not. If you’d like to make another agreement, I think you’ll find the price for this to be more than you’re willing to pay. You seemed not to enjoy your end of the previous bargain.”

“Had to try, you understand,” he conceded with a shrug, or at least the closest thing a man paralysed from the neck down could produce to one. He was doing an admirable job of hiding his terror; he had worked out early on that too much whinging only annoyed them and made them more likely to do disagreeable things to him.

“I admire your tenacity. Now, shall we begin?”

Lev, for his part, found pinning down the Doctor’s motivations to be a fun little diversion during his sojourn in Mu facility. They were excitable and quick to anger, but slow to act on any rage they may feel, seeming to have an intense dedication to scientific objectivity while acknowledging that true objectivity was unattainable. In practice, that meant that being compliant resulted in less pain for him, and he could sometimes delay an experiment for a full day by asking them to explain it to him. As cold and calculating as they were, they talked quite a lot and seemed thoroughly to enjoy having an audience, especially one that was pretending to pay attention.

He hadn’t been able to delay this procedure; the Doctor had been much quieter than usual, neglecting to engage him in the usual one-sided conversation and alternating between staring off into space, and talking animatedly into their tape recorder in a language he couldn’t understand, their rambling underlaid with a certain manic delight. They had answered most of his questions with some variant on “oh, you know me, always working something out.” It made him rather nervous, the delight they seemed to take in cutting him apart, but they were rather arrogant and always quite confident that it would be impossible for him to escape, and he was sure he’d get his chance some time soon.

The paralytic agent the Doctor had given him made his body feel heavy, a buzzing sort of numbness like novocaine. His breathing seemed unaffected, which was a plus, though it certainly was strange not to be able to feel his lungs inflating, and he had to reserve speaking for the natural rhythm of his exhale, given that his diaphragm wasn’t within his conscious control.

The Doctor had finished their preparations and was standing over the subject with their scalpels prepared and their tape recorder in its familiar place around their neck. “Well. I think we’ll just get started, won’t we? Experiment 422-12, continued observations of subject 422-LV. Experiment date, November the twenty-third. Subject classification: humanoid entity, supernatural category B. I will begin by conducting the visual inspection and inventory of the exterior…”

Lev thought it was definitely a little weird to have the Doctor inspecting every little bit of his body. They had pulled back the gown, the paper rustling oddly in Lev’s ears because he couldn’t feel it, and were notating his measurements in minute detail, sparing not a single square centimetre from the tattoo of the alchemical symbol for Mercury on his cheek — which they had spent several minutes yesterday reproducing in minute detail onto vellum for “realism” — to an uncomfortable amount of time spent cataloguing the details of his genitalia (really, any amount of time was too much). They seemed to have no interest in it other than thoroughness, which was reassuring, but sensing the vague impressions of pressure as their gloved hands moved over his skin was quite disconcerting, and he would have squirmed if he could have.

When the Doctor made the first cut, right above his left clavicle, it didn’t exactly hurt, but it was certainly a new sensation, and he grunted softly as his vocal cords tightened around his exhale. He felt the impression move down toward his sternum and had to make an effort not to make noises whenever he could. He still couldn’t see what they were doing, but he had no hope that whatever would happen next would be any less uncomfortable.

The Doctor had had to take a deep breath before beginning the Y-incision. It was one of their faults, the tendency to become too excited during a highly anticipated procedure and have their hands shake or need to step away to recompose themselves. They prided themselves on their professionalism, but when alone in the lab, it was more difficult. They were a doctor, though, and they had a job to do. With the incision completed, they peeled back Lev’s skin to access his ribcage.

It was a little odd to think about that angels and demons would have bones of any kind at all. Their work with angels and other seraphoid beings had yielded varying results, from no abnormalities to shimmering marrow and golden blood that flowed like metal. Lev’s ribs were black, as if from ferric iron bound to the calcium deposits, though there was no guarantee that was even their composition. It was exhilarating.

“Completed primary incision. Osseous tissue is greyish-black in colouration, note to continue experimentation in other demonoid subjects to determine if any metaphysical factors affect colouration, such as the magnitude of the sin that caused the fall-“

“That’s not really how it works,” Lev interjected. The Doctor waited for him to continue on his next exhale, but either he had nothing more to add, or something about their fingers on his spleen had disconcerted him.

“I rarely appreciate being interrupted, you know.”

“Oh, forgive me.” He paused to inhale. “ I’ll just keep any… further commentary… to myself, then.” His expression was somewhere between apprehension and indignation.

“No, no, I…“ ‘I value your input’ would be a lie, and they disliked lying while the tape recorder was running. “I am not opposed to further input. Wait until I’ve finished my sentences, though, yes?”

After listening to them talk, mostly to themselves, for the past several days, Lev thought that the Doctor’s speech flow left very little room to get a word in edge-wise, though the sensation of his intestines being pulled on to be measured distracted him from informing them of this. He cried out in surprise, if not in pain, mentally arching his back even though he couldn’t move.

“Hush,” the Doctor scolded. “I’m counting. Total length seven hundred and… thirty six point three centimetres. Below average, though taking age and weight into account… Hmm. Perhaps demonoids simply have shorter bowels.” Lev didn’t really know what to say to that, so he didn’t.

He very much preferred it when the Doctor was measuring: they talked less and wrote more, and were usually too focused to think of any new and horrible things to do to him. Unable to see what they were doing now, if he concentrated, he could ignore the fact that he could feel it. He had almost convinced himself that this was a completely ordinary place to take a nap when an odd whirring sound turned his blood to ice water.

“W-what’s that?” he asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Bone saw,” the Doctor responded, distractedly. “Stop talking, please. This is already difficult to do while you are breathing.”

When the saw hit his sternum, Lev couldn’t have spoken if he’d tried. If he’d been able to move, he was sure his back would have arched with the agony, he could feel every inch as the teeth of the saw ground through his bone. The combination of the smell of bone dust and the sound of it turning to powder- was the Doctor… singing?

They did very much enjoy sawing through bone. Carpentry might have been a nice career path for them if medicine hadn’t worked out. It wasn’t going quite as smoothly as usual, but their tools were in good condition and their technique was beyond reproach, and so eventually the bone gave way, forced into submission by serrated metal. Snatches of an old folk song were stuck in their head, och jungfrun gick åt killan, hon skulle hämta vann, and they weren’t even really aware they were humming the tune to themselves.

The Doctor was tall, and the table was low, but it was still rather difficult to reach all the things they needed to manipulate on their own as they operated the rib spreader and prepared the cardiopulmonary bypass. It was times like this where they wished they had an assistant, but that would add too many variables and make everything even more difficult.

“Opening thoracic cavity… Colouration of interior organs is typical. Beginning cardiopulmonary bypass. Just a few minutes more, darling, once I have your lungs out you won’t have to worry about crying…” They began inserting the venous catheters as they spoke, soft beeps from the CPB machine providing a backdrop to the gasping sobs the subject was somehow managing to make despite everything. At least once the machine was set up, they wouldn’t need to listen to him.

The pain of his ribs being spread caused tears to flow down into Lev’s ears. He did his best to focus on the tickling instead of the shooting pain in his chest, but it was becoming very difficult to keep his throat from tightening up into sobs even though he wasn’t in control of when he inhaled or exhaled, and he was sure he would have been hyperventilating by now if it were an option. He could sense that the Doctor was annoyed with him again, and that didn’t bode well for the end of this experience. Whatever they were doing now was at least less painful than the spreading had been, but he was becoming desperate.

“Wait! Can we… make another deal?” he choked out, not daring to hope he wouldn’t be ignored.

“... I’m listening,” the Doctor replied slowly, the movement of their scalpel ceasing for a moment.

He hadn’t really expected that to work, if he was honest. What did he have to offer that would please the Doctor more than taking him apart right now? He sifted through the information he’d collected on them, looking for a weakness to exploit. “H-how long is this going to take?” He was stalling, and he was pretty sure the Doctor could tell, but he needed more time.

“Oh, well, I can leave you on the bypass machine for about three or four hours before the risk of complications goes up. Given your otherworldly constitution, I could probably push that another hour or two without consequence. Did you have another engagement? I was not aware you were in any hurry.” They had come around to his left side and were smiling at him in the way they always did when they were mocking him. They were always so calm, so kind-sounding, it was sickening. Like they’d invited him here for a tea party instead of having his organs on the counter. Wait. When had his spleen got to the counter?

“Spleen weight: one hundred and forty grams.” The Doctor had grown tired of waiting for him to think and put the spleen onto the lab scale almost lovingly. “Good size. Oh, my apologies, were you saying something? I appear to have become rather distracted.”

“T-that’s mine…”

“Yes. Yes, it is. I shall put it back shortly, worry not.” They tapped the scalpel impatiently on the tray, clearly eager to begin again.

What could he do? The only thing they seemed to like more than cutting him open was drugging him or… Oh. He really didn’t want them to do that, but it had to be better than sitting here with his chest open for six hours. “You cut it down to… say two hours… and I’ll… drink holy water for you…” Not much, and not more than once, but he could negotiate later.

The Doctor’s eyes glittered behind their hexagonal spectacles. “Really, now? Well, that is quite exciting. Two hours, you say? Oh, my…” They exhaled behind the mask, calculating something. “It will be close, I think, but I can probably do that, yes. I shall have to actually try for once. Perhaps it will be enjoyable! You have yourself a deal, love. You will not try to back out again, yes?”

The glee shining in their eyes was disconcerting, to say the least. “I won’t. I’ll… want to talk terms… when I can breathe…”

“Oh, of course. Excellent. I had better get started, then, you will not be able to speak while your lungs are on bypass, I will note. Sit back and enjoy the show.”

All right, then. If they were going to finish this before time, they were going to have to move very quickly indeed. They stretched their neck and shoulders carefully — marathon surgeries had a tendency to make them lock up — and took a deep, steadying breath. Time to get to work.

First, the bypass machine. They smiled reassuringly at Lev as they changed him over to assisted respiration, though the panic in his eyes didn’t seem to decrease at all. Once his heart and lungs were no longer in active use, they were free to remove them.

“Beginning removal of thoracic organs, switching to Iverson procedure due to time constraint. Operating on pleural tissue… Right lung weight: four hundred forty grams… a little light, no? Left lung… three hundred eighty. Liver. Sixteen oh-two.” Their scalpel flew as each organ was carefully weighed and laid out in storage containers to wait to be reinserted. Intensely focused, and Lev temporarily forgotten as anything more than a cadaver, they meticulously organised biopsy samples and updated the visual catalogue as they went. They were made to perform surgery, many said, and in this moment, it seemed very true.

Lev couldn’t really watch any of this happen. It was odd not to be breathing, though as the Doctor removed his lungs and laid them on the table, he was glad he couldn’t feel them anymore. It would have been an almost out-of-body experience, watching his insides be carefully catalogued and biopsied, if he couldn’t feel every slice of the scalpel and every movement of the Doctor’s fingers inside of his chest.

He wasn’t usually aware of where particular organs inside of him were located. As the Doctor narrated their process for the tape recorder, however, he produced against his will a rather accurate picture of where each had been before it was abruptly separated from him. He’d probably have nightmares about this…

An intense wave of nausea hit him as the Doctor weighed his stomach in their hand. He never wanted to feel his stomach moving against his will again. Could he even vomit with all the drugs they had pumped into him? He hoped not; he’d probably choke.

“Hmm. I will leave this for now. Dealing with the bowel will be time-consuming. Better to avoid puncturing it.” Oh, thank the hells.

Gallbladder, pancreas, kidneys. Each piece that left him made him feel… less. The Doctor was having quite a bit of their own fun, humming brightly again as they held callipers up to his bladder. (Or what he assumed was his bladder. He’d never felt it before.) It almost didn’t really hurt anymore, all the different missing pieces of him, in repose, without feeling, several feet away. Almost being the key word. All of his edges seared like, well, not hellfire. He still couldn’t move, but he was beginning to wonder if the anaesthesia was wearing off. He couldn’t ask about it, of course.

The Doctor brought his heart over for him to look at. “See this? A little thing the size of a fist, but without which you cannot live more than a few minutes. I have a few resin casts of these, and a few silicone. I was going to mould yours, but then I thought without the luxury of time, there would be too much risk of residue left behind. You have made quite the good bargain, if you will allow me to say so. Just a bit of a weighing and we will have it right back inside of you, you will see.” Lev was once again glad he couldn’t be sick.

Eventually, the Doctor stepped back for a glove change, and Lev would have breathed a sigh of relief if his lungs had been, you know, inside of him. Tears were still falling down his face into little tributaries that collected in his ears and dripped onto the table. The Doctor returned quickly and spoke to him again. “I think that about wraps up what I had planned. At least, that which I am confident I could complete before the time limit. About time I closed you up, then, yes?” More tears, this time of relief, spilled down to expand the puddle.

Without the anaesthetic, he could feel every little stitch the Doctor made as sharply as if they were threading glass into his flesh. When the searing agony didn’t meld into one long stripe, he could tell that each stitch was the exact same length and placed the same distance from the last as the one before. He felt like a baseball, but on the inside, a deep fatigue permeating him. The pain kept him awake, if not quite alert.

The Doctor was proud of their stitchwork. They had replaced and reattached every organ and still had thirty minutes to go. Now to return him to breathing with his own lungs. They had made sure the bronchial tubes were clear before returning the lungs, but there was still a risk without having him on ventilation of him asphyxiating… The heart was beating just fine, at least, with a little initial electrical encouragement.

“Here we are, love, going to try breathing now…” The cardiopulmonary bypass switched off, and they subconsciously held their own breath.

A few seconds ticked by, and they had already turned to the crash tray to reach for epinephrine when Lev gave a quick cough and began breathing. It surprised them how relieved they were, though they told themselves they were just tired and hoping not to have to save his life. He shouldn’t be able to cough, though…

“How are we? Still pleasantly numb, or no?” They would wager not if the diaphragm was under his control.

Lev coughed a few more times and let out a shuddering sigh. “It hurts, Doctor…”

“Oh, I love it when they say that…” Calm yourself, Doctor. So. Delirium, then. Most likely from the pain. Odd that the drugs wore off so quickly, it must have something to do with his physiology, but what differed from the other subjects? It was possibly something individual. Anaesthetic resistance was not totally uncommon, though it wasn’t something they’d ever encountered in a metahuman…

Lev wasn’t sure what the Doctor was mumbling to themselves about, something about anaesthetics and metahumans, but he hoped they’d remember to give him some painkillers soon. Now that he was breathing, quiet sobs kept slipping out of him and he was a fair bit worried it would annoy the Doctor and they would refuse to medicate him. It was rather hit or miss whether they would haze his mind with chemicals or just leave him to sob in the corner after an “experiment” which was really thinly veiled torture. He had to find a way to get out of here. The Doctor may be involved with the mafia, but that didn’t mean they could just do whatever they wanted. And besides, he was being paid very well to make the whole thing go away. Usually, he would have tried to cut a deal, but being personally victimised made one more righteous than usual.

His ribs hurt almost as badly going back into place as they had spreading apart, though he could feel the pain much more acutely now. The Doctor threaded the two sides of his sternum together with wire, which felt odd and was painful sitting against his skin as they stitched him up. He gasped with every pull as the wires tightened, and the Doctor rolled their eyes at him as they often did when they felt he was crying too much. Let’s see them try to endure this, see how much they cried.

Now that the Y-incision was all done up, the Doctor thought Lev looked quite a bit like a baseball, just grey and crying. They pushed the antidote to the paralytic into the IV port and thought for a moment before adding some morphine to it as well, causing the tension to bleed out of the few muscles Lev could control. “Well, my dear, I think we have had a very productive afternoon, don’t you?” They’d have data to analyse for days while the subject recovered and tens of further experiments to plan. It was as if Christmas had come early.

Transferring a patient from one bed to another was usually a two-person job, but they managed it alone with relative ease. They redressed him in more comfortable clothes and a post-thorax vest and ensured he had easy access to water and the call button.

“Now, Jeannette will be on shift tonight. If you need anything, your button will go to her. I have instructed her to make you comfortable, though you remember her, she is not easy to manipulate and I recommend you do not attempt it. I will not be available for at least the next sixteen hours, and I am not to be disturbed for any reason, understood? Excellent. Farewell!” They needed a long shower and about four hundred milligrams of caffeine, and then it was time to get to work.

Lev sighed, relaxing into his pillows and the haze of the opiates. He hoped the Doctor wouldn’t be back for a very long time.

#Secret Santa Event 2022

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 5 years ago

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Breathe ~ Doctor (part 4)

A/n: I will get to requests soon, I promise. I just want to get to Donna in this series, because I have PLANS it’s going to be great.

Word Count: 11,000+

MASTERLIST

"Shit!"

"Language please, we are still in a school." Y/n turned around to see the principle that still made him feel so incredibly uncomfortable to be around, and tried once again not to look as terrified of the man as he felt.

"Right sir, sorry." Y/n offered a small smile and the other man continued on his way. What a relief.

He was still wrapping his finger as he walked into the cafeteria. He had cut it on accident, and though it was small it was in such a place that it had bled quite a lot before finally calming down enough so he could plaster it. He got his food, passing Rose who was working as a lunch lady, and the two shared a look. Rose's was irritated, and Y/n's was amused. Next Y/n looked around the room to find the Doctor, making his way over to sit across. "How was Physics?" Y/n asked.

The Doctor's eyes fell to Y/n's finger. "How was mechanics?"

Y/n had applied for the mechanic job, same as Rose had gone for lunch lady and the Doctor had aimed for teacher. They'd all gotten it. Mickey and the Doctor had taught Y/n enough about how to fix things that mixed with that and his impressive ability to pick up on simple things pretty easily, he was actually quite good. Only two days in, even the weird staff members that gave Y/n the same vibe as the principal did called Y/n when they needed help with something, instead of the janitor like they had for years.

"You know there's more this gig than just tightening screws and helping the English teacher figure out how computers work. Mr. Bele, the janitor, has actually been teaching me some plumbing stuff. I think I'm properly working." He was rather proud, and it made the Doctor smile. Y/n caught movement in the corner of his eye and looked over to see Rose approaching. "Unlike some people."

She was at the table in a few seconds, pretending to wipe off the surface when she'd just passed four empty tables who needed it far more than this one did. Y/n held in a laugh for her sake - she seemed irritated. "Two day," she reminded. "We've been here for two days.

"Not everything is running from death and facing down mythical beasts," Y/n said casually. "Sometimes it's just scooping lunch and waiting for the right time."

Rose rolled her eyes. Unlike Y/n, the Doctor didn't seem hesitant to irritate her further as he motioned to a spot on the table with his plastic fork. "Sorry, could you just... there's a bit of gravy." She wiped at the wrong thing, and the Doctor pushed it even further. "No, no, just there." She glared a him and he grinned.

"Doctor." Despite her obvious irritation, she did find the right spot and wiped it up.

"Blame your boyfriend, he's the one who put us up to this," the Doctor reminded.

Y/n tried to hide his smile. The three of them were involved, that was obvious, but they hadn't ever made anything official or used labels. Since Rose was technically dating Mickey and hadn't officially broken up with him as well, the Doctor and Y/n had been teasing her about it occasionally. All in good fun, of course, but it still made her scoff every time.

"Have you seen anything to prove him right then?" Y/n asked, resting his chin in his palm as he popped a fry in his mouth.

"Yes actually. One of the kids in my class this morning, got know;edge way beyond planet Earth," the Doctor began.

"You eating those chips?" Rose asked.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "How can you think of food right now? There's a child with extraterrestrial knowledge, Rose."

The Doctor smiled at that, but allowed Rose to grab a few off of his plate anyway. Y/n smiled to himself at the way they so easily invaded each others' space. It wasn't a problem at all for them. "No worries," he dismissed. "I didn't want them anyway they're a bit... different."

"Oh but they're gorgeous." Her mouth was full but also curved in a smile and Y/n chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at her. God she was adorable. "I wish I'd had something like this in school."

A hum came from the Doctor. The kind that told them he wasn't fully paying attention. His mind was somewhere else. "It's quite well behaved, this place."

Y/n had noticed it too. "Yeah, every time I go into classes to fix something they all just sit there and... stare at me. It's not like they're threatening, just a bit unnerving. Just sitting there, patiently waiting for me to finish. I've heard stories about how kids use their phones and talk during lectures, let alone when there's nothing going on. I don't know Rose, is that the norm?"

She nodded, far used to Y/n asking questions about things that he should have experienced but never did. "Yeah one time the teacher needed help with something and two kids snogged in the back of the classroom the whole time. One kid used to throw pencils at the back of my head during class, until I moved seats."

"Yeah I thought they'd all be happy-slapping hoodies. Happy slapping hoodies with ASBO's," the Doctor input. "Happy slapping hoodies with ASBO's and ringtones, yeah?" He seemed quite proud of himself. "Don't tell me I don't fit in."

Before Rose could tease him, the head lunchlady approached, her eyes on the blonde at the table. "You are not to leave your station during a sit in."

Rose stood. "I was just talking to this teacher, and his mechanic friend."

"Hello," the Doctor greeted as Y/n smiled, nodding politely rather than voicing something. It was pretty reflective of how they usually worked, with Y/n tending to sit back and blend in and the Doctor sticking out like a sore thumb and grabbing all the attention. It wasn't a bad thing, just what was normal. The whole thing with the wold had been rare. A nice rarity though.

"This professor here says he doesn't like the chips," Rose added, shaking her head. It seemed to be some attempt at a joke to break the tension. Something the other woman could relate to maybe.

It fell short. If anything, she seemed offended. "The menu has been specifically designed by the headmaster to improve concentration and performance. Now get back to work." And with that, she turned around and left.

Y/n blew air out of his mouth, eyes wide as he looked back to Rose. "See?" She said to him, shaking her head. "This is me." She began to leave, walking backward so she could motion to her apron and uniform. "Dinner lady," she added with a grumble as she turned her back to the two men, heading back to the kitchen.

"I'll have the crumble," the Doctor shot back.

The last thing they heard from her was, "I'm so gonna kill you." Y/n covered his laugh, trying to stay third party to their banter as usual. Sometimes he had his fun as well, but he tended to be laid back enough to play peacekeeper more than anything.

The Doctor leaned into him, snagging his attention. "What?" Y/n asked upon seeing an odd look in the Doctor's eyes.

The Timelord just smiled. "What do you think it would have been like, this? School and such?"

Y/n scoffed. "Terrible, from what I hear. Especially for me." He messed with his food, distracting himself as he always did when he had to be vulnerable. He only ever did it for Rose and the Doctor, but it was still hard - even for them. "I think I have anxiety." A short, bitter laugh. "I've never really had to face it of course, with being as apart from society as a human who lives on Earth can be. It kept me alive and made me really functional, living on the streets as a child. I learned to steal pretty quickly, motivated by my hunger and constant paranoia that I'd get caught. I didn't trust anyone, not even those I probably should have. Kept me alive though, I bet. Something like that, in a place like this? No. I would have crumbled for sure. Wouldn't have been able to read aloud or say the answer when I was called on or been able to make any friends. I probably would have sat in the corner every day, in every class, and prayed I wouldn't get noticed." His smile dropped. "Kids like that... they struggle in school. People are mean."

The Doctor reached over and took Y/n's hand. "Well, I'm lucky. You've got some very good survival skills. That instinct of yours has saved my life more times than I can count, I'm sure."

"Nah." Y/n chuckled to himself. "You'd have been fine without me. Figured something out, I'm sure."

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed. "Thanks to you I didn't have to, though." He smiled. "Lots of people have you to thank for saving their lives as well, Y/n. If nothing else, you do well in this life."

That did cheer Y/n up actually. "I hope it'll always be that way. I'd hate to slow you down."

At that, the Doctor actually laughed. It was low and quiet, unlike his usual laugh, but far more domestic. Calm. It was a laugh that didn't need to be showy - it was good enough to be familiar. "If ever comes the day I'm not trying to keep up with you, then I'll start to worry."

Out of the corner of Y/n's eye, there was movement. He looked over to see some of the kids looking between the two men and their hands. Y/n suddenly got rather bashful, attempting to pull his hand away. The Doctor only held on tighter. "You know, we're in public," Y/n noted.

"Yep," the Doctor agreed.

"Showing affection," Y/n added, nodding to their hands.

"Indeed." The Doctor smiled and Y/n thought the man odd, in a pleasant way. The way he wasn't afraid to be himself was rather refreshing - especially when the plan had been to be polite and pleasant, but otherwise act as strangers.

Y/n spent the rest of lunch enjoying the moment. Word would spread, but these kids didn't seem the type to prod, even though children of this age should be at peak curiosity, yet to develop a social censor. The perfect disaster for pushy, nosey kids asking questions they probably shouldn't be. Not at this school though. For now, they could enjoy the exchange and that was enough.

Then lunch was over and it was back to business.

A little bit later, Y/n was pushing his cart down the hallway to go around his usual round to check if anything was out of place that hadn't been noticed - this was used most for normal schools where kids pulled pranks, but at this school he could use the guise to get information wherever he could - when he was stopped by the Principal, who had a woman at his side. "Ah yes, Mr. Doe," the older man greeted. "Miss Smith, this is our handyman. He help the janitor quite a bit - had some training in more things than cleaning and basic plumbing. Helps with the cooling and heating, and when machines break down or are hard to understand. Since when did things get so advanced, am I right?" He chuckled softly, but didn't get a response.

The other two were too busy staring at each other. "Sarah Jane," Y/n whispered, eyes wide.

Sara, though she knew for a fact that she couldn't know this man in front of her, felt that... maybe she did, actually. There was something familiar in his eyes, aside from the raw and obvious recognition that he looked at her with.

The principal seemed surprised. "You two know each other?"

"I-" Y/n panicked. If he said yes, Sara would surely be confused. But if he said no... well obviously that was a lie. How could he explain that he knew her, but she didn't know him? "We met briefly. I have a fantastic memory, when it comes to faces. Like a steal trap. I'm sure you don't remember me, but I dare say I could never forget a face as pretty as yours." It was probably odd to flirt with her as she was quite a bit older than he was, but he couldn't help it. He had someone else's memories, and the feelings that came with them.

"That makes sense," Sara voiced. Her words seemed a little distant though, her eyes boring into Y/n's, as if searching.

A little panicked, Y/n looked away. "Nice to see you again, Miss Smith. I hope you won't think me rude, but I must be off. Got work to do." He nodded to the principal. "Good day." Then he left, feeling Sara Jane Smith's eyes on his back the whole way.

Things were about to get very interesting.

"Kenny?" Y/n was surprised to see the spikey haired boy looking so shaken. Y/n had a habit of making friends with people as he went, in a way that Rose and the Doctor didn't. They were friendly and formed attachments, of course, but Y/n had an aura about him that made those who were lost or scared or confused flock to him for protection and understanding. It just so happened that those who were in such states in the line of things the Doctor and his two companions did, often had the most information. Y/n's friends were often full of just the information he needed, and they trusted him so much that it wasn't very hard to get it out of them.

Like now.

"I think I'm going mad," the young boy squeaked.

Ah yes, the staple sentence that meant someone had seen something important. "Now why's that?"

Kenny seemed to debate for quite a while, until Y/n rested his hand on the young boy's shoulders, encouraging him to talk. "I heard something weird in one of the classes, so I went to investigate. And... well I looked under one of the desks and there was some sort of... gargoyle, or bat or-" He shook his head. "I spooked it I think. It stood up and it was one of the staff." Y/n's eyes went wide. "He told me to go. Am I losing it?"

Kneeling down, Y/n got very serious. "You've not lost anything, Kenny, do you hear me?" The boy hesitated, then nodded. "I believe you. I do." That seemed to make Kenny quite relieved. "Now go to class and leave it up to me. I'll figure this out, promise." He hesitated before adding, "And Kenny? Don't tell anyone else what you saw, or that you told anyone. Do you understand me?"

The boy seemed unsure, but nodded again. "Okay."

"Good boy." Y/n let out a breath of relief. "Run along now and get to class. I don't want you being late." Kenny did go off, and Y/n turned back to his cart, looking at it a second before continuing on.

Did this mean he had to admit Mickey was right? God he hoped not.

"He said... a bat?"

"Or a gargoyle," Y/n confirmed to the Doctor's question. "Anything come to mind?"

"No." He frowned at the door they were about to go into as Y/n took the lead, using his keys to unlock it so they could all get in. He seemed worried by his lack of knowledge. If they were all being honest, it made Rose and Y/n just as nervous to see it. The Doctor was rarely caught off unawares and when he was... Well it wasn't good.

Once inside, Rose found a good joke as always to lighten the mood. "Oh," she whispered, her words mixed with laughter. "It's so weird to be in a school at night. Kinda spooky." She giggled, nudging Y/n who smiled. "When I was a kid I used to think all the teachers slept in school."

"Alright team," The Doctor began, shifting focus back to what was important. "Oh-" he cut off, making an odd face. "I hate people who say 'team'. Uh- gang? Uh... comrades."

"Squad?" Y/n offered.

"No," the Doctor shot down. "Anyway, Rose, go to the kitchen and get a sample of that oil. Mickey, the new staff are all maths teachers, check on the maths department. Y/n, look around to see if you can find any traces that could give us more clues on these bat or gargoyle creatures. Anything at all. I'm going to check out Finch's office. Meet back here in ten minutes." He took off, leaving the other three alone.

Rose hesitated around Mickey. Y/n didn't know where the two were at anymore, since Rose, Y/n and the Doctor had become... official? Weren't they? I guess they'd never said. It was quite confusing now that he was thinking about it. Rose still seemed to care about Mickey, so there was that. Even now, she checked in one him. "You going to be alright?"

"Me?" He brushed off far too eagerly, as if he'd been waiting to show that he was cool and capable. Something gave Y/n the idea that Mickey was doing so specifically to seem more cool and collected than the Doctor. Jokes on him, the Doctor was neither of those things and tended to actually be rather unhinged and chaotic. Y/n wasn't going to correct Mickey though - it was funny to see the man scramble and make a fool of himself. "Infiltration and investigation? I'm an expert at this." He began to walk off and Y/n was a bit impressed at how calm and confident he was being... until Mickey came back to ask, "Where's the maths department?" Rose pointed him in the direction as Y/n did a bad job at hiding his mocking chuckles.

When Mickey was gone, Rose rounded on Y/n. "What is your deal?"

"What do you mean, I've always been at odds with Mickey," Y/n pointed out.

"Not like that," Rose argued. "You're usually at least polite if nothing else. And you can't blame this on the Doctor, because you were the one who backed me up when Mickey called and the Doctor tried to dismiss it. You respect Mickey, deep down. And you care about him. The only time I've seen you act like this, lashing out by being petty, was when we were younger and you were upset but wouldn't tell me. So, Y/n, what's your deal?"

Y/n wasn't sure when she had gotten so perceptive of him. Perhaps she'd always been this way. He knew how they always worked though. She wouldn't press if he asked her not to, and he couldn't risk this coming out. He didn't even know it was bothering him as much as it apparently was, but it didn't matter. His current... condition had to stay a secret. "Nothing, really. We have to-"

But Rose had changed too, just as Y/n had, and the usual way she let things slide didn't seem to be what she was okay with anymore. "We haven't kept secrets in ages now. You can trust me Y/n. That's what partners do, right? They talk to each other? Communication and all."

Partners. Wait, what? "I thought... you and Mickey-"

Rose offered a shrug ad a sheepish smile. "We've loved each other for years, you and me, and now we also love the Doctor. That's... a bit chaotic, I'm not going to lie. It's going to be hard enough loving two men who are equally reckless, I can't deal with the drama of someone else too. I... adore Mickey, I really do. He was good to me for a long time. But I've seen what wasting time and waiting too long can do, and if you two are eventually going to have to say goodbye to me then I am going to soak up ever damn second I have until then. I'm tired of wasting time, Y/n. It only hurts more in the end."

"Oh." Y/n rubbed the back of his neck, smiling to himself. "Okay."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're adorable, truly, but you're not going to distract me. I want answers."

A panic flashed through the man and he did the first thing he could think of. He grabbed Rose and kissed the living hell out of her. When he leaned away, she looked a little dazed which is what he was going for. "I'll tell you. I really will. Just... not right now, okay? I can't do this right now, especially because there's too much else going on. I'm sorry." Then he took off toward the halls, ready to look around to find something that would help them all out.

He did find something. He opened the door, revealing a sight that made his blood run cold. Then he heard a scream, and he booked it over, running in to see Mickey. Before the boy could explain his exclamation, the Doctor joined the scene a second later, Rose and Sara Jane on his heels.

Y/n froze. "Sara Jane." He cleared his throat, able to handle it much better the second time around - especially with eyes on him. It sounded less like someone greeting an old friend, and more someone just saying hello in general.

"James," she greeted back. "Mr. Doe, I mean. Sorry, I got your first name from the principal quite by accident. Since you used mine I figured-"

"No worries," Y/n rushed. "It's - uh - not James though. It's actually Y/n. I went by a fake name myself. The Doctor stole John though, so I went with James instead. Different enough that no one would call me out for the obviously fake name."

"Oh," Sara Jane realized. "John Doe." They both chuckled, but the sound was cut off by an irritated Rose, who seemed to be very much not enjoying the exchange between the two.

"Why did you scream, Mickey?" She demanded, turning attention back to the reason they were all there. Unfortunately, Y/n did not miss the odd way the Doctor looked at him, confused by the interaction between the two.

Mickey seemed suddenly wanting to disappear. "Sorry, I uh..." He moved aside to let everyone see in. "You told me to investigate, so I started looking through these cupboards and all these fell out on me."

"Oh my god they're rats," Rose realized. "Dozens of rats. Vacuum-packed rats." Y/n had to agree with her wonder at it all.

"And you decided to scream?" The Doctor stood, looking at Mickey with a raised eyebrow.

"It took me by surprise," Mickey defended.

"Like a little girl?"

"It was dark! I was covered in rats!"

"Nine, maybe ten years old. I'm seeing pigtails, frilly skirt."

"To be fair," Y/n piped in, feeling this wasn't fair on Mickey. "There's a lot of tension and people tend to die on these adventures of ours. I don't blame Mickey for being tense." Seeing Sara Jane had put him in a rather good mood if he did say so himself, even if he refused to admit it. It countered his anxieties about having the Doctor's memories and brought him back to normal.

"Can we focus?" Was the nest thing said, and that came from Rose. "Has anyone noticed anything strange about this? Rats in school?"

"Well obviously they used them in biology lessons. They dissect them," Sarah Jane pointed out. "Or maybe you haven't reached that bit yet. How old are you?"

That took Y/n off guard, but before he could play peacemaker Rose shot back with, "Excuse me no one dissects rats in school anymore. They haven't done that for years. Where are from, the Dark Ages?"

"Anyway!" The Doctor butt in, looking between the two women with confusion. Y/n seemed to be the only one who got it, what was happening. "Moving on. Everything started when Mr. Finch arrived. We should go check his office."

"Actually." This time it was Y/n. "I found something, before we all got here. Rather convenient if you ask me, I won't lie. Now we can all go back together."

"And you're only saying this now?" The Doctor demanded.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "You shut your mouth. Between the jealousy wafting off of all four of you at all times and trying to keep the peace between all of it, I think I deserved a moment of silence for myself." Then he turned away, storming off toward the teacher's lounge where he'd seen the thing before.

"Jealousy?" the Doctor scoffed, offended. "I'm not- Y/n wait up!"

Y/n lead the way, the other four following. The Doctor was right behind Y/n, Sara Jane and Rose on either side of him and then Mickey behind them. As they walked, he heard, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but who exactly are you?"

"Sara Jane Smith," she replied. "I used to travel with the Doctor."

"Oh!" Rose spoke with the voice that told Y/n she was getting pissed. The two women pushed ahead to be on either side of Y/n and even began to walk a little faster. Y/n didn't mind it, getting his kicks when they turned the wrong way at first and then had to catch up again. "Well, he's never mentioned you."

"That's it." Y/n stopped cold, the Doctor ramming into him. He ignored the man, facing the two women in the hallway. "You both listen to me. I'm not going to have you taking stabs at each other all night. Sara Jane, the Doctor didn't talk about you, but not because he doesn't care. He cares a lot, actually. Maybe two much. He's just got a lot on his plate at literally all times, and talking about his past hurts so he rarely does it - if ever. I already have to deal with the Doctor and Mickey, I won't tolerate this too. Sara Jane, you started this, and I want you to end it right now. Rose is just responding - neither which I condone by the way. Get your things in place." Then he turned back around and began walking again, leaving the other four to walk silently behind him for quite a stretch of time.

No one spoke again until they got to the teacher's lounge. "Maybe those rats were food," the Doctor thought aloud, actively trying to ignore the other two women and focus on Y/n, who seemed to be the only one with a level head tonight.

"Food for the gargoyle bats?" Y/n asked.

"Maybe, or-" but then the door opened and he looked around inside, and his voice died. "Rose, remember how you used to think all the teachers slept in school?" He began walking in, everyone filtering in after him. "Well, they do." Y/n was the only one who stayed out, already knowing what was inside.

Of those who went in, Mickey was the one who left first. He booked it out, causing everyone else to follow. He went right out the front doors, turning away from the school and catching his breath, hands on knees and eyes slammed close as he tried to shake the image of those things out of his head. "I am not going back in there," he stated firmly. "No way."

"Were those the teachers?" They were all out of breath, but Rose managed to look at the Doctor for more answers. He, however, was thinking it through, still trying to figure it out himself.

"When Finch arrived, he brought with him seven new teachers, four dinner ladies, and a nurse - thirteen. Thirteen big bat people." He looked back at the school. "Come on."

"You've got to be kidding me," Mickey complained.

"I need the TARDIS," the Doctor explained. "I've got to analyse that oil from the kitchen.

"I might be able to help you there," Sara Jane piped up. Rose rolled her eyes. "I've got something you should see." They all followed to her to her car, where she opened the trunk to reveal something covered in a blanket. The Doctor pulled it aside.

Two voices rang out at the same time. The first was the Doctor, which made sense. The second, unfortunately, was Y/n, who was yet again too caught off guard by surprise and too small a window of time to think clearly and stop himself. "K-9!"

Sarah Jane and the Doctor looked at Y/n, who was immediately struck with fear. God why did he have to have such a big mouth? By some mercy, Rose piped up before either of the two people now staring at Y/n with far too many question - none of which he was willing to answer - could begin asking. "Why does he look so... disco?"

That caught the Doctor's attention. "Oi!" He complained. "Listen, in the year 5000 this was cutting edge. What happened to him?"

Finally Sarah Jane looked away as well. "One day just... nothing," she answered.

"Didn't you try to get him repaired?" The Doctor sounded a little offended. It made Y/n smile to hear him whine like that.

"It's not like getting parts from a Mini Metro," Sara Jones pointed out, defending herself. "Besides, technology inside him could rewrite human science. I couldn't show him to anyone!"

"Ooh." The Doctor's voice dropped, speaking to K-9 as if the dog was alive and could hear him. Like one would speak to a real dog. "What has the nasty lady done to you?" It made Y/n smile even wider. God, he was rather adorable too, wasn't he? The Doctor reached up and scratched the metal behind where K-9's ears were. It was only then Y/n realized Rose and Mickey were confused by the whole show, rather than endeared. Y/n also noticed Sarah Jane, who stood up from where she'd been bent over before, giving Rose a look like she'd won something.

Y/n was about ready to lose it on the woman. Why couldn't these two just stop for one second and let the Doctor enjoy something? He didn't get to far too often. Before he could say something, Rose did. "Okay, could you two just stop petting for a minute? Never mind the tin dog, we're busy." With that, they all got into Sarah Jane's car and headed to a nearby diner that was still open to fix K-9 so he could analyze the oil. There, the Doctor and Sarah Jane got acquainted once again. Y/n was too scared to reminisce with them, so he stayed by Rose and Mickey. Turns out, that was an even bigger mistake.

"You know what's really impressive is that she's been here an hour and I still haven't said I told you so," Mickey mouthed off.

Y/n felt his anger boil. "Probably because you didn't tell anyone anything, and you're just being a dick."

Mickey glared. The pair had only gotten hostile a few times, but had always been calmed by Rose. Rose, it seemed, was not in the mood to play peacemaker. It had been Y/n's role for too long now. "I'm sorry, YOU look at them then. Tell me that they weren't just like Rose and the Doctor."

Y/n absolutely noticed how Mickey cut Y/n out of that equation. Had she not told him the specifics, or was he just being extra petty? "Okay yes, Sara Jane traveled with the Doctor just like me and Rose do now, and things... were between them. Sort of." He scoffed. "But that was ages ago. Neither of them feel that way anymore, they're just nostalgic. The Doctor disappeared on Sarah Jane one day and just never returned. She thought he was dead, and he's been carrying that unfinished business with him ever since. There's been no closure." He sighed. "Can you imagine, Rose? Nine hundred years he's been alive, and you want him to have spent the majority of that all by himself, after watching his entire planet be destroyed? Think about how he was before we came in his life. How lonely it had to be. When the Doctor gets left alone like that... he gets too much in his head. He gets too fixated on his power and potential and how in control he is. His species is like a god to most others, and he's the last. If he'd been alone all this time, it would have gone to hid head long ago and he wouldn't be the man we know and love. Not even a shadow of him."

Rose didn't seemed cheered by that like Y/n thought, though her body did relax and her expression changed. She was still rather grim, but rather than with jealousy toward Sarah Jane, it was... worry. Confusion. All toward Y/n. "Why do you say that like you know? Like... you were there?"

Y/n didn't have an answer for that. Not one he wanted to share. "I..." He looked away. His mind was blank and he didn't know what to say. In that moment, he began speaking. "Can you imagine what its like to watch your family die right in front of you?" The room was suddenly quite silent, other than the Doctor and Sarah Jane still chatting in the background. "He has the weight of universes on his shoulders. The weight of time and space as a whole. All that ever was and will be. What is, and what can never be. He has it all in his head, swirling around in there waiting to swallow him whole. Think about how incredibly smart he is. No one is that smart anymore. Everyone we've met whose that smart was... lost, in a way. Knowledge is power, but power unused is a waste. Remember the Daleks? Just as clever as him, unable to handle the weight of emotions that comes with it, so they stripped it all away to just survive. They got so arrogant and so obsessed with the power of their minds they stopped really living, labeled themselves as the superior species, and going around destroying worlds with billions of people on it as a past time, for fun, because they legitimately believe that anything other than them is inferior and therefore needs to be destroyed. Can you imagine if it was just one of them? Alone, for hundreds of years. No one can match his intelligence or capability. When he fails, everyone else panics because he's the one we depend on to always have the answers and get it all done. he leads and everyone follows. If they know his real power, they usually do so without question and they'd be right to. The Doctor's wrath is unmatched, and his power is limitless, and without someone there to check him he'd have been lost long ago. It's just fact, Rose, and not hard to piece together. Pain changes people, and no one has been through more than the Doctor. If he wanted to, he could destroy everyone. Everything. But he doesn't, because he has people around him to remind him what is important past just facts and figures. Past logic and fixed points in time. I think that's why he likes humans so much. We remind each other."

"Two quid, love." Three pairs of eyes snapped to the side as Rose remembered why she was at this counter. She took her food with one hand, paying with the other. The trio all gathered their thoughts before heading over to a table for three, sitting down so Rose could eat her chips.

"Do you think he's only into us because of that?" Rose asked softly. "Because we ground him?"

Y/n smiled to himself. "No, not at all. I understand him. He hasn't been understood by someone stable and sane for a long time. It's usually the worst people who know what he's been through, or the people who had so much potential but have tragic endings. It's... disheartening, to say the least." He looked at Rose. "He likes you because you're all the best humanity has to offer. You care, loudly, and you do everything with your heart and never your head. You... you're the opposite of him, I guess. You're so much good. All of the good, even. A little reckless and loud, with a bleeding heart and a determination that can never be put out even in the bleakest of scenarios." Rose blushed and Y/n cleared his throat, looking away. "You know, he probably misses how big his family used to be. So many people fit in the TARDIS. I think... even if she does stay longer-"

"You think he'll invite her to come along with us?" Rose asked.

A shrug was all she got for a few seconds. "She knows things already. They had good times, the two of them. You can tell from the way she smiles at her. He gives himself to everyone he travels with, even if its just a little because they're not around long. It's like coming home to an old friend from your childhood. One who was a beacon of light in a world of darkness. Like if you and I lost touch and didn't talk for years. When you saw me again, still on good terms and missing how things used to be between us. Wouldn't you want that to not end?"

Rose didn't like that answer. Y/n thought he'd probably spoken enough at this point and the trio sat in quiet as the Doctor fixed K-9 and Rose ate her chips.

The next thing they knew, the Doctor was jumping up from his table as the robotic dog whirred to life. "All right!" he exclaimed. "Now we're in business."

"Master," K-9 said, in an electronic voice that brought memories back to Y/n he shouldn't have.

"He recognizes me!" the Doctor crooned, grinning at Sarah Jane.

"Affirmative," K-9 spoke again.

"Rose." The Doctor turned around to face the three humans sat away from him and Sarah Jane. "Give us the oil." AT his call, the three rose and joined him so Rose could hand over the little jar she'd collected earlier from the school. He took it, opened it, and went to dip a finger in to scoop it out.

Rose stopped him. "I wouldn't touch it though, that dinner lady got all scorched."

"I'm no dinner lady," the Doctor declared in such a serious voice that Y/n almost laughed. "And I don't often say that," the man added, eyes taking in Y/n's amusement. He then dipped a finger in with no harm at all, smearing the oil onto K-9's censor. "Here we go," the Doctor encouraged as K-9 began to beep. "Come on boy here we go."

K-9 spoke again, his words stuttered. "Oil extract..." he began. He seemed to be struggling. "Analyzing."

"Listen to him man," Mickey chuckled. "That's a voice!"

"Careful," the Doctor warned. "That's my dog."

Y/n smiled to himself. For a second he imagined the Doctor in a life different than this. A life the Doctor wanted but would never be allowed to live. One he never let himself think about. A life in a house, a ring on his finger and a dog barking in the front lawn. Children... It would be a nice life. Y/n could see the man playing with that dog as he did K-9, but more. Just fun, rather than gaining knowledge and analyzing data and running into danger head first. He'd have so much fun with a real dog... That life though. Y/n tried to imagine the Doctor really in it. Settling down in a house of his own. Getting a job. It would be a happy life. A stable and safe life. It would not be a life that really fit him though. The Doctor is and always would be a traveler. It was a life he'd chosen for himself, on purpose. One that fit him.

He felt eyes on him and looked over, locking eyes with Sarah Jane. Her gaze widened as she saw that familiar thing in Y/n again. The thing, she now realized, she always saw when she looked at the Doctor. She recalled her surprise when the Doctor had revealed himself to not be Y/n, realizing that the first time they'd talked, she'd subconsciously thought Y/n and the Doctor the same man. She searched Y/n's should, trying to understand. Y/n saw a question that startled him.

Are you a Timelord?

She seemed to ask it silently, scanning Y/n's face for signs. But there wouldn't be, even if Y/n was. Of course he wasn't... and yet. The question was warranted. What made a man who changed faces and personalities and age and ethnicity every time he died? Who became a new man over and over again, over hundreds of years? Other than the obvious biology that kept him consistently a Timelord no matter what face he took, the thing that made the Doctor was his memories. His mind. The way he saw life and knew things that should be impossible. If that was what made Timelords special - what made the Doctor special - did Y/n having that knowledge somehow make him special too? No, he wasn't a Timelord, but he did have a very significant piece of one locked inside of him. He had a whole other person in his mind, with a life he never lived and people he never met.

So no, technically, Y/n was not a Timelord. Not biologically. But perhaps... perhaps just a little, in away, he was. What an interesting thought.

"Are you two coming?"

The pair looked over to see Mickey, and an even more surprising sight. The Doctor, looking between Y/n and Sarah Jane with the same look that Rose wore for Sarah Jane and the Doctor. With... jealousy? Well that made absolutely no sense.

"Yeah," Y/n responded, realizing everyone else was headed back out again. "Sorry, I missed that last bit. What's happening now?"

"We'll update you on the way," the Doctor dismissed, seeming suddenly rather far away. They all left the diner and piled in the car again. During the drive, the empty spaces in the missed conversation were filled in and everyone was caught up. First to be dropped off was Mickey, then the Rose, the Doctor, and Y/n, who always stayed at Rose's when they needed to. Jackie never minded.

The night was stretching on and Y/n couldn't sleep. There was a spare room that Mickey sometimes slept in, which the Doctor took now on Y/n's insistence. They'd agreed on switching off nights, and tonight was Y/n's turn on the couch. Perhaps that was what gave Rose the courage to come into the room and face Y/n. "I can't sleep."

Y/n sat up. "Neither can I. Want to watch a movie and drink something warm?"

The blond shook her head. "Can I just... lay with you? We don't have to sleep or stay awake. I just don't want to be alone." Y/n scooted, making room for her. He patted the spot next to him, where she settled. After a second she leaned into Y/n, and he let his arm wrap around her, pulling her into his side. "You know, I've been playing it off but... there really will be a time after me, for you two. You don't die, and he... he's lives hundreds of years, I'm sure he'll be here after I die. Do you think - I mean, he and her were close once too. Do you think he'll forget me like he did her? He doesn't even talk about her anymore. I just-"

Y/n held her tighter. "He doesn't forget anyone, Rose. Really he doesn't. It's just like I said before - it hurts him to talk about his past. If he lingers in what he misses, he drowns in the sadness of all he's lost. I- you're different, I think. If not for him definitely for me. Maybe I do have forever ahead of me, but there's nothing like your first love. You'll always be with me, Rose, I promise you." Y/n sighed. "I can't speak for him though. You should talk to him yourself, after all this is done."

Rose didn't respond. Wrapped in each other's arms and held together by a promise that Y/n meant with all of his being, they finally relaxed and fell asleep.

The next morning, they all had to go back to school. They weren't wasting time pretending to do their jobs this time though. They didn't know what was happening, or when it would get worse, and no cover was worth the life of another student if they took too long.

"Rose, Sarah, you two go to the maths room and crack open those computers. I need to see the hardware inside." He took out his sonic screwdriver, handing it to Rose. "Here, you might need this. Y/n, you keep an eye on the kids. I don't want anymore to go missing. Mickey, surveillance. I want you outside."

"Just stand outside?" Mickey asked, confused.

"Here, take these." Sarah tossed Mickey her keys. "You can keep K-9 company."

"Don't forget to leave the window open a crack," the Doctor called back as Mickey walked back to the car.

"What? He's metal!" Mickey threw back.

"I didn't mean for him!" the Doctor replied. He shot a smile at Y/n, but this time Y/n did not give one back. Making fun of Mickey was losing his touch. This whole thing was getting to Y/n and he couldn't find much amusing at the moment. He'd been thinking nonstop about what he would do if Rose- I guess, WHEN Rose left them. It was a terrible thought and he very much hated it, but he couldn't shake it either.

Rose cut in on his thoughts by asking the Doctor, "What are you going to do?"

The Doctor's smile dropped as he got serious. "It's time I had a word with Mr. Finch."

That was where they parted ways. Y/n drifted through the halls, hovering around the principal's office when the man wasn't around, and then heading outside when it was break time. The alarm went off for everyone to go inside far too early and Y/n hesitated, staying back, as the kids rushed back into the building again. He had a horrible feeling in his gut. What was about to happen?

A hand rested on Y/n's arm. He looked over to see Kenny, to his relief. "Sir..." the boy hesitated. "Have you gotten any closer to stopping the bat people?"

Y/n smiled, nodding in reassurance. "Much. I promise, we're just about to figure it out. Go to class Kenny, I swear we've got this handled."

"We?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah, me and some friends. Uh, you know the blonde lunch lady with lots of attitude, and the physics teacher?"

Kenny stepped back. "You're one of them."

"What?" Y/n stepped toward him, but the boy stumbled away even further. "No, Kenny, I'm-" but Kenny didn't wait for an explanation. He just turned and ran. Y/n wanted to go after him, but couldn't. It wouldn't help much, and he had to keep an eye on the children - especially now that things seemed about ready to hit the fan. So, instead, he counted his losses and jogged into the building to see all the kids filtering into classrooms with computers that light up with green screens. He couldn't go into any of them without crossing a teacher he knew was one of the bad guys though, so he headed on and on until he found the room with the others in it.

Rose was there to greet him. "You were right." He paused, unsure how to proceed after that. She did it for him. "Sarah and I talked. She's pretty cool actually. We decided to stop fighting."

Y/n did smile at that. "I'm glad to hear it." Rose took his hand, turning and walking toward the Doctor, pulling Y/n after her. She seemed to be hovering between helping him - which she really couldn't do - and watching the doorway to make sure no children came in, which is probably what she was told to do. None of them seemed to be making much headway in any direction.

Suddenly the screens light up with green light and words that none of them could understand. Well, none of them bu the Doctor surely, whose eyes seemed to scan the screen, taking up as much as he could as it all raced across the screen almost too quick to read.

"Well, you wanted the program," Sarah sighed. "There it is."

"Some sort of code," the Doctor whispered. After a second, he stepped forward. "No... No, they can't be."

"What is it?" Y/n asked gently.

"The Skasas Paradigm," the Doctor finally said aloud. "They're trying to crack the Skasas Paradigm."

"The Skasis what?" Sarah rightfully asked.

The Doctor struggled to explain. "The god-maker. The universal theory. Crack that equation and you've got control over the building blocks of the universe. Time and space and matter, yours to control."

"What, and the kids are like a giant computer?" Rose asked, horrified.

"Yes." The Doctor seemed to not like the answer, but not just in a general way. None of them liked this, but the Doctor seemed to hate this. On a personal level. He suddenly turned away from it, not wanting to see it anymore. "And their learning power is being accelerated by the oil! That oil from the kitchens, it works as a conducting agent, it makes the kids cleverer."

The other women turned to watch the Doctor pace, but Y/n watched the screen, as if transfixed. His mind felt a little far away. He felt that same thing he'd sensed in the Doctor. He didn't just not like this. He hated it. He loathed this entire thing. "But why?" It came out soft and quiet. Maybe even a little broken. He finally looked at the Doctor, finding confusion among all the anger surging through him. "That's not living, controlling everything. It's not experiencing or learning or anything. It's... creating a world for others to live in. What's the fun in knowing what's going to happen next and controlling everything to go your way? Makes it so much more fun to improvise. Makes it... better. Life is meant to be experienced, not... I mean, authors don't experience their stories, readers do. Characters. Why would anyone choose to be the author?"

The Doctor almost smiled. "Because life is hard and scary. Some people don't want to live through that fear and struggle. They forget the fun and the thrill and the adventure, and they destroy it in favor of getting rid of those hardships. That's what so many living beings forget. You can't have happiness without sadness. They create each other. It's no fun to be the smartest in the room. To know everything and having been everywhere. The fun is in the confusion. In the chaos. In the complete lack of control."

"Okay nice psychology and all," Rose interrupted, breaking the two men away from their locked eyes and racing minds as they connected yet again in a way she missed. "But that oil, I mean, that's been on the chips. Y/n and I have been eating them."

Immediately the Doctor faced her, shooting, "What's 59 times 35?"

Without hesitation, Rose replied with the exact sane tone, "2065." He tilted his head and she added, "Oh my god." Y/n found himself enjoying this. There was still that anger, but it wasn't affecting him negatively. It cleared his mind and got his heart racing. He felt his body speeding up, and his mind running faster than it ever had before.

Y/n's anger was only fueling him, and now he was smarter than ever. Nothing could stop him.

"But why use children?" Sarah asked. "Can't they use adults?"

"The god-maker needs imagination to crack it," Y/n answered without thinking. He had tapped into the Doctor's knowledge long ago, soaking in every detail running through the Doctor's head up until the day Rose Tyler and Bad Wolf and the Doctor's new regeneration. He'd been holding back so much, afraid of exposing himself, but now he was rushing on adrenaline and smarter than ever. Not only did he have the information, but he could understand it, and there was none of his usual and there was none of his usual anxieties stopping him. "Name one adult with imagination. Real imagination. Enough to create lives and worlds and universes - stories, or games. Enough to look at one thing and see something magical. Nearly impossible in adults. Much easier to get from children."

Y/n's energy made the Doctor pause. "Precisely," he affirmed softly. Sarah and Rose both seemed surprised as well. "They're not just using the childrens' brains to break the code..." He calmed significantly, turning to the other three with a grim expression. "They're using their souls."

That. That was what Y/n had been so angry about. It clicked as the Doctor said it.

Just in time, they had a visitor. "Let the lesson begin." Y/n swung around, coming face to face with the one person Y/n wanted to see the most. "Think of it, Doctor. With the paradigm solved, reality becomes clay in our hands. We can shape the universe and improve it."

"What a rubbish idea," Y/n sassed, rolling his eyes. "The universe isn't meant to be controlled."

"The whole of creation with the face of Mr. Finch," the Doctor agreed, scoffing. "Call me old fashioned, I like things the way they are."

Mr. Finch seemed annoyed by that. "You act like such a radical and yet all you want to do is preserve the old order."

"What's wrong with the old order?" Y/n demanded hotly.

Finally Mr. Finch looked at Y/n. He paused, his eyes roaming to the Doctor again and then back to Y/n. He seemed stunned a second. Only Y/n knew why. Just as Sarah had before, Mr. Finch saw the same look in Y/n's eyes as he saw in the Doctor's. The aged look of one who had been through too much for too long and was still trying to keep going. Keep going despite a small voice at the back of the mind that begged for peace and quiet. One that would never be listened to, because peace and quiet was too terrifying and too many people needed help.

When Mr. Finch spoke next, he spoke to Y/n and the Doctor both. "Think of the changes that could be made if this power was used for good."

Immediately the Doctor was ready with a snappy response. "What, by someone like you?" Y/n let out a sound that was halfway between a scoff and a laugh in agreement.

"No," was Mr. Finch's answer though, taking both of the other men slightly by surprise. "Someone like you." There was a split second of quiet so thick it was nearly suffocating. Mr. Finch cut it off rather quickly. "The paradigm gives us power but you could give us wisdom. Become a god, at my side." He took a step closer to the Doctor. Y/n did the same, but his movements were protective, rather than an attempt to convince. To break. "Imagine what you could do. Think of the civilizations you could save. Perganon, Ascinta - your own people, Doctor. Standing tall." The Timelords, reborn."

"That's not right." Y/n stood straight, that anger in him again even stronger, but this time because he knew how much this hurt the Doctor and he couldn't bear it. This wasn't fair, and Y/n was tired of the Doctor dealing with things that weren't fair. "Everything has its time. Everything ends eventually. The Timelords earned their ending the same as everyone does. How could you ask that of him? It would be chaos. There would be no balance. True chaos. Living forever is painful, and defying death is unnatural."

"Nature, reality, chaos, balance - this could all be ours to change. The rules can be different," Mr. Finch pointed out in response. "You could be anything you wanted to be. You could get those memories out of your head."

Y/n felt all his energy drain. He kept his eyes away from the Doctor, staring purposefully at Mr. Finch while the Doctor shot lasers at the side of Y/n's head. "There's so much you don't understand. You asked for wisdom, and you're ignoring it as its given to you. This isn't some kind of play pretend. This isn't a fantasy that you get to make into a paradise where you always win. You have to lose sometimes, because other people get to win sometimes too. Life's hard and complicated and long and it sucks, but only because we have to hurt in order to know the bliss of not hurting. There's balance. There's fairness. Not always, because sometimes even fairness has to be overruled by unfairness. But that's how it goes. Everyone gets their time, and its short because there's only so much time to give. If one person's time doesn't end, there will be no more time to give to anyone else - don't you understand?"

"I do understand," Mr. Finch sighed. His eyes moved to Sarah and Rose. "You four... clinging to each other, knowing you will eventually have to part ways. This way, it'll never have to happen. No aging or death or going away. No more goodbyes." He looked at the Doctor. "How lonely you must be, Doctor, after a lifetime of one goodbye after another. You can finally make it stop." He looked at Y/n. "You can stop the hurt, for all of them. You who speaks with wisdom you shouldn't have. Who relives over and over again pain and misery that isn't yours. You can make it go away. You can forget all of it. Erase it. Undo it. Make it never happen. Happy, forever. Join us."

"I could save everyone." Y/n looked away, closing his eyes as the Doctor spoke.

"Yes," Mr. Finch encouraged.

"I could stop the war." He grew quiet, thinking about that. Imagining Gallifrey. Seeing it in his memories, but... better. As he is now, Rose and Y/n by his side. His family and friends, returned. His home gloriously breathtaking once more. Y/n could see it too, and... he couldn't speak for the Doctor this time. He knew what he would do if the situations were reserved, and he'd already said his piece. This wasn't his to have an opinion on.

Sarah Jane disagreed. "No," she argued. "The universe has to keep moving forward. "Pain and loss, it defines us. Y/n was right - we need it. Just as much as happiness and love. Whether it's a world or a relationship. Everything will have an end when the time comes. Y/n... knows." She looked at Y/n then, and he turned away from her too. In those last two words was more than what seemed to be there at first. She was not speaking about him knowing loss as she did. She was saying that he knew loss as the Doctor did. Y/n was right, she seemed to beg them all to understand. He knew better than all of them.

Suddenly the Doctor picked up a chair, rushing forward and chucking it at the screen on the wall and shattering it. They all took off running, trying to get as far away from Finch as they could. They ran and ran until they met Mickey, who asked questions there was no time to answer as the others like Finch crawled the halls, screeching and taking off after the Doctor and his companions. So they turned and ran a new direction that took them to the lunchroom. The doors were locked, and right behind them were Finch and the others. This wasn't seeming to be going their way.

"Are those the teachers?" The question came from Kenny, who Y/n had missed joining the group with Mickey when they'd all been running.

"Yeah, sorry." That came from the Doctor. Kenny and Y/n locked eyes and smiled at another. Whatever had been complicated before had been cleared up now - it was obvious whose side Y/n was on.

"We need either the Doctor or the other man alive. Y/n. Just one." Finch looked right at both men as he said their names, and got back a glare in response from both. "As for the others... you can feast."

And so began the fight for their lives. Creature came swooping down from the sky as they all scattered, trying to avoid getting caught in the way of claws or teeth. The Doctor grabbed a chair. Y/n stole his sonic screwdriver and slid toward the door, trying to get it unlocked. It was a hard time as Y/n kept getting almost attacked. At one point, he wasn't fast enough. He turned his back and pressed the sonic screwdriver to the door, trying to work on it. He was too distracted to see the claws aimed for his back. Rose only had time to scream Y/n's name before there was a loud. high pitched sound and a shot of red from the corner of Y/n's eye. He spun around to see K-9. The dog had shot the thing from the sky, killing it, and saving Y/n's life.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to anger Finch more.

Abandoning the door, they took off in a different direction that was open now that K-9 had taken one of them out. They shot off and hesitated only a moment to collect their thoughts. They couldn't run forever - they needed a plan.

As always, it was the Doctor who thought of something. "It's the oil!" He realized. "Krillitane life forms can't handle the oil! That's it! They've changed their physiology so much that even their own oil is toxic to them. How much was there in the kitchen?" He asked Rose in a rush.

"Barrels of it," she responded.

Just then, the Krillitanes made their presence known as they began to scratch and rip at the door separating Krillitane from human... and Doctor.

"We have to get into the kitchen," the Doctor began. "Mickey-"

Mickey had some sass of his own bottled up though. "What now?" he demanded. "Hold the coats?"

Y/n shot him a glare, and Mickey stuck his tongue out in response. The Doctor didn't waste time, instead ordering, "Get all the children unplugged and out of the school. Now then, bats. Bats, bats. How do we fight bats?" To that question, Kenny had an answer. Without saying anything, he hit the fire alarm. The Doctor looked around and then grinned, a laugh of victory coming from him. The rest of the group smiled as well.

With the enemy distracted, they all took off running past the door that had kept them from escaping, right past the Krillitane who were now all on the ground in pain. They ran and ran toward the kitchens. Along the way, K-9 joined them as well. The whole group was back together, and Y/n found his heart swelling as he took in the crowd. This was how it was supposed to be. A group, friends and partners, all there and caring for the Doctor and helping him save the world however many times it needed saving.

In the kitchens, they ran into a problem that quickly wiped away Y/n's good feelings. "They're all deadlock sealed, I can't open them," the Doctor told the others as he tried to use his screwdriver to open up the oil cans. "Finch must have done it."

K-9 had the answer this time. "The vats would not withstand a direct hit from my laser, but my batteries are failing."

"Right," the Doctor picked up again. "Everyone out the back door. K-9, stay with me." Y/n hesitated, but Rose caught his arm and the Doctor shot him a direct look, as if knowing he would try and stay. So he turned and he ran and he hated every second of it.

They were outside now... which meant they were safe, but also that if the Doctor needed help they had no way of getting to him.

When the Doctor came outside, there was a wave of relief inside Y/n... until Sarah Jane asked a question that made his heart plummet. "Where's K-9?"

"We need to run," was the Doctor's response as he deadlocked the door behind them so none could go back.

"Where is he?" Sarah asked again. This time Y/n was needed to grab her hand and pull her away, knowing she didn't want to move and probably wouldn't without help. "What have you done?" she demanded as Y/n dragged her along on their dash for safety. Behind them, there was an explosion.

Y/n and Sarah both stopped short, eyes on the building and pain in their eyes. The Doctor turned to Sarah to comfort her. Y/n tried to get used to this feeling. Having feelings that should not belong to him. Experiencing loss for people he didn't know. No one turning to him to comfort him, because he shouldn't need comfort to begin with.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor apologized to Sarah Jane.

"It's alright," she responded, standing tall. "He was just a daft metal dog - it's fine, really." Her voice broke with emotion and Y/n felt his heart fall. He turned away from the others to hide it. No matter what adrenaline he was on and how much he hated hiding things from the Doctor and Rose, hiding pain from others was still one of his core responses.

With the whole thing over, it was time to go. Y/n hated goodbyes. After today - after thinking about a world without them - Y/n had enough of them for now. He went further into the TARDIS into the room he'd claimed for when they eventually had to sleep. Where he kept his stuff and such. He stayed there until the sounds of the TARDIS started up and he knew they were taking off and headed for the next adventure.

Only one thing bothered him now: how long could he keep knowing the Doctor's past quiet now? After everything that had happened was beginning to add up... how long would it be before the Doctor put it together? Or someone else?

Y/n was running out of time.

Story Taglist: @shoochi @e-reads-fics

Male readers taglist: @sheepfather

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caleanope · 4 years ago

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Neighborhood Watch (3/?)

Paperwork was sort of her thing. With a paper processing Quirk, she was incredibly good at being a paper pusher, hence her employment at the Archives of the Hero Public Safety Commission. Contrary to popular belief, however, Shiki didn't actually like doing paperwork, especially when it was just mind-numbingl sorting and boring stuff like study plans, field trip requests and school related things generally.

Going over these things was the work of a moment - especially if you actually kept to the deadlines which was the minimum required for semi-functioning time management. Unfortunately, she was the neighbor (and sort of forced supervisor) to a teacher at UA. Which meant he was a Pro-Hero. An Underground Hero, even. And on top of that, he was the homeroom teacher to a Hero course.

Time management for Aizawa was about as solid as a house of cards in a hurricane which coincidentally is what his living room looked like at least twice a year. The average was closer to about once a month actually, what with all the extra stuff these kids did and needed on top of a normal high school education.

Naturally, she had looked forward to seeing him drown in a wave of bleached white paper, miniscule printing and illegible handwriting but then the neighborhood hero had managed to look pathetic enough that she was forced to intervene. For the sake of her ear drums, at least, so that that man's pet cockatoo cursed with human speech wouldn't show up at their apartment complex every week to shriek him into motivation.

So yes, she was a little bit bitter about spending a Sunday evening at Aizawa Shouta's coffee table, seperating out last school year's paperwork from this year's. Which had started one week ago, so they were already behind. Maybe if she complained enough about it, he would kick her out and never speak to her again.

"Well, if your stupid lifestyle is not going to kill you, this backed up paperwork might. Look at this. I could kill a man with how big this stack is"

She shook said stack in her hands, then let it drop unceremoniously on the table. It creaked dangerously which was echoed by the cat sitting next to it.

"You could kill a man with half a sticky note," he droned from the other side of the couch.

"So could you. It's not exactly a special skill"

"That's not what I-"

"I'm not your secretary," she interrupted him.

Aizawa grumbled a bit but subsided (for now). With bit of luck, he would forget that they knew even each other because she had actually volunteered to do some of the paperwork for him years ago and has since been saddled with at least half of his workload, but she was realistic enough to settle for him being too exhausted to bring it up ever again. It kind of defeated the purpose of her being here, but nobody ever accused her of being a decent person.

In a trance, he watched her flick through the third file as thick as his thumb in as many minutes. On the other end of the table, crinkled papers smoothed themselves out and shuffled into stacks with each one bearing a soft pastel sticky note declaring its contents in handwriting so neat it might as well be printed.

"Wanna switch quirks?"

She snorted. "And have you become even more of a ninja? No thanks. Edgeshot would sue me; that's his shtick. And you would give all your kids papercuts every time they annoyed you."

He grinned manically. They'd be dead within the week couldn't be more clear on his face if it was tattooed on his forehead. The boost of energy he got from that at least made him attack his own paper tower with newfound vigor.

Sadly, it didn't last very long.

"Isn't Togata Mirio one of UA's Big Three or something?"

Aizawa slowly raised his head but didn't look away from the suddenly very interesting schedule he was working on.

"Care to explain why I have a test from Togata Mirio, Class 1-A in my hands?"

When she flipped the test over to shove it in his face, nearly a whole stack came up with it. It was stuck to the top of a packet that was held together by too many staples in the corner and an out of shape paperclip.

"Are these from last year's homeroom?! Whoever thought you being a teacher was a good idea should be shot."

She let him snatch the papers out of her hands but he paid for it with a paper cut that she hoped would inconvenience him for the next week.

"Hizashi is going to cry when he hears about this" he replied, mulishly staring at two of his fingers slowly gathering blood between flaps of split skin.

"Hizashi is going to die you mean." She started on a new stack of files that turned out to be his current homeroom. "I guess you do learn though. At least you haven't expelled anyone yet, even though there are at least three students that warrant it"

Recovery Girl had yet to write a recommendation for some green kid who looked like his picture was taken at gunpoint though, so despite his numerous injuries he was probably fine. Maybe. If this was a requirement of his Quirk, wanting to become a Pro-Hero was either a way of living out his masochistic tendencies or a death wish.

Aizawa should really talk to that boy instead of penciling in a reminder to do so. And adding 'eventually' to top it off.

"I re-enrolled last year's class, didn't I?!"

"And who did the paperwork?"

"You offered!"

She jabbed him in the side with her pen.

"So you could take a nap, not make an effort to get yourself killed! And how do you repay me? By siccing Hound Dog on me because apparently you never carry your phone whenever he calls! Honestly, your timing must be some kind of sixth sense. Otherwise Present Mic would be here screaming down the building at all hours of the day"

He grumbled noncommittally. Now that she thought about it, it really was a minor miracle that he always managed to ignore Hound Dog without Present Mic also feeling snubbed.

"...Don't tell me you actually blocked Hound Dog."

There was a telling silence.

"I swear to God, if you don't sent your class to Hound Dog should something happen, I will get you a one-way-ticket to paperwork hell, don't test me."

[1] [2] [x] [4]

#bnha #mha #aizawa shouta #aizawa imagine #yamada hizashi #present mic #recovery girl #midoriya izuku #OC #collection of one shots

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reality-imagined · 5 years ago

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Getaway Car - Peter Parker

Young Adult!Peter Parker x Agent!Reader

Based on Getaway Car by Taylor Swift, I suggest listening to it before to get in to the ~tone~ of what’s going on. Also, Endgame never happened, goodbye.

Word Count: 8.5k

Rating: T+

Warnings: Violence, Use of guns, Hints of murder?, Maybe slowburn?, romance

Synopsis: Peter (who is 23 now) is struggling to find his footing in the team now that he’s older and he’s tired of being the kid damn it. Peter decides his next mission is going to change how his team views him, but things never work out just how he plans, does it?

I’ve been sitting on this since I first heard the song, and I’ve been itching to post it! xx

It had taken some time for the other members of the team to start taking Peter seriously, and even though they regarded him with a little more respect, they couldn’t help but still see the youth around his eyes. A facial feature they often used to fuel their jokes. Peter understood that it came from a good place, a place of caring and inclusion, but it didn’t reduce the sting any less. They praised him like a child when he achieved even the smallest task, making him feel (childlike). But even worse, any mistake he made was highlighted and turned into a lengthy lecture by each member - scolding him to be diligent and be more “mature.” They often blamed his age and lack of experience, completely missing the fact that these lectures did not assist Peter in his training at all. Only infuriated him, particularly when another member made a similar mistake, but was only brushed off by the others as “bad luck.”

Nonetheless, he worked overtime, harder, and more diligently to try to get the team to see him as more than just the youngest Avenger. He took on all the missions he could, small or large, to add more experience to his resume. Maybe, just maybe, if he could catch up with the team on experience they would finally remove the “rookie” title from his name. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually took a weekend to enjoy things other 23 year olds enjoyed. At this point, Ned and MJ quit offering invites out, knowing Peter would relay that he had a “classified” mission to go on and wouldn’t be able to make - but next time, definitely. The best way to keep up with their friend, they found, was to check the headlines and new stations - Spider-Man saves the day once again! Peter wished the team would revere him as the media did.

So, when a file came across his spot at the team table for a solo mission, Peter didn’t even have to open the file before he agreed. A solo mission. If he could knock this out of the park, in record time, then this would be the moment they finally regarded him as a full-on member of team. This would be his ticket to the big leagues and meetings that only involved Steve, Natasha, Tony, Thor and Banner. He would finally be an Avenger not only to the world, but to the other Avengers as well.

He stayed up the entire night, memorizing the file and the target. It wasn’t a simple mission to say the least, but it wasn’t impossible. Despite his lack of recon experience, he figured a quick conversation with Nat would help him in this area and he’d set course to Vienna by the end of the week.

Ned’s birthday dinner would just have to be rescheduled.

Y/n couldn’t exactly remember what invited her into her line of work, whether it was the influence of her family or a set of specific skills she had somehow stumbled upon. Either way, her job was her life and there was rarely a mission she declined. She worked for many people, a lone ranger who swayed elegantly back and forth across the line of good and bad. Sure, the number of tasks on the ‘bad’ side outnumbered the opposite tremendously, but she did experience being the good guy every now and then. She found that those jobs, where she saved the day, tended be more difficult anyway. Y/n by no means regarded herself as a hero or vigilante, just a girl trying to make a living and hopefully cash out on a beach somewhere with a mojito in hand by the age of thirty-five.

She ignored the hype of the superhero’s that everyone seemed to talk about nowadays - the Avengers? Really, were they going to release a Christmas album this year? She scoffed at the idea of being a part of a team like that, and she was surprised when she first heard of Black Widow’s involvement. Y/n had once looked up to the lethal red-head, but now having seen her join the band of ironically-clad heroes, decided that she was quite opposite of Natasha Romanoff and should probably rely only on herself for motivation. She would never be good like them, even if she wanted to.

It didn’t take long for the news of a new-age, extra deadly nuclear weapon on the market to reach her ears. And not long after that, power ridden billionaires and dirty country leaders alike requesting her services. The highest bidder bought her out of course, and she pictured that sunny beach being closer in her future than she had originally planned. Even though she was only 23 and still had a bit of baby fat in her cheeks, she knew exactly how to infiltrate this particular wealth-monger and had a new persona and ID ready for her flight to Vienna in only a couple of hours.

She didn’t think this mission would take her all that long and she could practically taste the mint mojito on her tongue.

Establishing his identity as a possible buyer to the evil guy holding the future of the world in his expensive briefcase took a lot longer than Peter had expected. He wasn’t used to being so exposed on the field, even if his mask was his only missing accessory. The thought that someone would recognize him, even with the possibility of that being in the negative percentage range, still had him on edge any time he met with another individual who got him closer and closer to his target.

Peter was thankful that the extra missions and time spent training with Steve and Bucky, shaved off the extra teenage weight he had. It didn’t take long for his face to thin, his jawline to sharpen, and his body to become more lean. He had finally lost that awkward, teenage lank to his features and he blended in easily with the people around him. Peter managed to get his last contact to trust him enough to snag an invitation to an event held by his target. It was a lavish event in a ballroom nearly the size of the compound back home. People were dressed elegantly and Peter straightened out the lapel of his suit jacket once again, an expensive number that he happily charged to the team’s mission expenses.

Peter surveyed the area as discreetly as possible, missing the functions that his mask, which was tucked safely away into his jacket, gave him when it came to surveillance. He wondered briefly if Tony could mock up some glasses for him next time. By the look of the crowd, chatting idly to each other, he figured that the target had yet to arrive. He wished he was more skilled in the social aspect of recon, his socially awkward tendencies once again coming up to bit him on the ass. Making way to the bar, he politely- and clumsily- excused himself as he nudged people from his path. Suddenly becoming anxious at the thought that his falling demeanor would give away his intentions.

Y/n stirred the drink in front of her gently, a small, polite smile on her face as she looked over the crowd. She already knew her target wasn’t here just yet. She had spent the evening in his lavish penthouse the day before and new of his schedule for the day. She had played dumb and innocent when he said he had meetings to go to before he would meet her at the party. The bug she placed on the lapel of his jacket as she passionately kissed him goodbye let her know that the last meeting with a buyer fell through and that the device she was after would be in attendance with him tonight. So, she donned a sparkly, gold number that was eye catching but allowed her to blend in with the people around her and sat herself at the bar as soon as she arrived. Smilingly gratefully the people that he had previously showed her off to, only to keep up the appearance. Inwardly grimacing and keeping the best smile she could. If she had to spend one more moment with the man and this twisted entourage, she would blow her cover and his head.

She was about to stand, the sleek watch on her wrist letting her know that her target was approaching the ballroom. The sight of a man, likely around her own age, stumbling up the bar, halted her movements. He dropped down on the stool with tense shoulders and a bead of sweat on his temple. His eyes scanned his surroundings before shooting his head to the bar tender who asked what he would like. The man visibly faltered and Y/n could instantly tell that he was new to the game that she herself, was currently playing as well.

“He’ll have an old fashion.” her voice spoke without her mind’s permission. The bartender replied a quiet ‘yes ma’am’ and began preparing a drink that matched the one she still stirred with a little red straw. The man before her stared at her with wide, startled eyes, body tense and almost ready to spring from his seat and run. “Camille.” She smiled, her fake name falling from her lips as elegantly as if it were her own, a gentle hand rising for him to shake. He stared down at her hand, before he seemed to snap out of reverie and quickly grasp her hand in an awkward shake.

He didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t expected someone to talk to him while he was here. She was beautiful, gorgeous even, and he only wished the confidence that exuded from her was contagious. By the look in her eye, he could tell she was picking up on his nervousness. It was at this point, mid-thought, he realized her hand was still in front of him, so he quickly grasped it. Flinching at his own awkward movements and released her hand from his jerky grasp as quickly as he held it.

She raised a manicured eyebrow at him, and he quickly realized he never gave her his own name. “Pe, I mean, Paul.” He tried not to show the mistake on his face and only inwardly grimace at his own stutter. He had picked out a cool undercover name before setting out on this mission, but found that he stuttered just has he had moments ago during his first task. Meaning that he was stuck with Paul.

“Paul.” She replied slowly, nodding with a small smile playing at his lips. He only hoped that she wasn’t all that perceptive and this was just her confident personality. Otherwise, his cover was blown and he’d have to hightail it back to the compound with his tail between his legs. “What brings you here Paul?” She smiled down at her drink before looking up at him. Social awkwardness once again kicking in as her beauty was getting the best of him. His imaginative James Bond ego quivering and failing him as he sat staring at her. He hadn’t even noticed the bartender place his drink in front of him. An old fashion? What a suave drink to order, he’d never had one and would’ve never thought of it. He felt that the drink was her own version of a vodka martini, shaken not stirred.

She hadn’t intended to play with him like she was, a cat toying at the mouse. She couldn’t help it. His cover was increasingly crumbling and he had a handsome face behind the worried eyebrows and sheen of sweat on his forehead. His fake name wasn’t all that bad, but by the grimace and his stutter she knew that it wasn’t the one he had planned. She briefly considered calling him out and asking him with his other name was supposed to be. But that would end her little game and that wouldn’t be fun. Besides, her target had already walked in and was in a deep conversation across the room. She could toy with the handsome man in front of her for a few moments longer.

It took him an alarmingly long time to reply to her questions and she couldn’t help but wonder how in the world he had gotten this far with his lack of experience. “I uhm, work.” he managed before taking a deep gulp of the drink she had ordered him. She let out a giggled as she witnessed him trying not to cough of the tart taste. She nodded, taking a sip of her own drink and sparing a glance at her target.

He noticed and followed her gaze, his eyes comically widening as he landed on the man she was surveying. Ah ha, so they were after the same person. Her competitiveness tried to rear its ugly head, but she kept calm. A smile spreading on her lips as he looked back at her, eyes not as wide but still holding alarm. She wished she could tell him that he was being so transparent. He was lucky to have stumbled upon her, had any other informant witnessed what she was - they’d have ended him before he could have even sat down. Competition in this line of work always ended with the opponent last’s breath and had the curve of his jaw not enticed her, then this scenario would’ve played out differently. It wasn’t her place to advise him, however. He wasn’t a friend, colleague, or even a blimp on her professional radar. There was no telling who he worked for or the nature of his visit and the last thing she needed was to get caught up in the mess of an undercover whatever he was. Agent, would not have been a word she used to describe him.

His mind whirred with the realization that she was gazing at his target, with calculated eyes. She gave off vibes that were similar to other agents he had been around, but she couldn’t possibly be undercover? A girl who looked like that? She couldn’t have been any older than him, but her face was hardened with the life of operations, he realized. Not like Natasha’s or any of his other members, though. There was an innocence, but also edge, that held her posture. Maybe she was undercover and she was that good. He didn’t know what to do or say, the alcohol from his drink pooling in his stomach. Instantly regretting never taking Thor up on his offer of Asgaurdian liquor to build up his tolerance. Her glass was empty and by the way the bartender quickly retrieved the glass and replaced it with another indicated that it wasn’t her first drink of the night.

He had no idea how to proceed, her eyes were watching him and he felt that his every move was being scrutinized. He felt vulnerable, despite the technologically advanced suit that clung to his skin beneath the expensive tuxedo. He thought briefly about pulling out his phone and dialing for backup. After weeks of working towards this event, everything he had achieved began crumbling down before this beautiful girl with an agenda of her own.

No, he wasn’t going to let a pretty face ruin his chances of earning the respect of his team. He wasn’t about to call the team to come rescue his ass because he knew he’d never hear the end of it. He was going to see this through, even it meant having to take out the girl who was still smiling at him. That thought made the alcohol in his stomach churn harder.

She was running out of time. She wanted him to make the first move, curiosity getting the best of her and momentarily causing her to lose focus of her task. But he was taking too long and her target was talking to a buyer that she knew would seal the deal and she needed to start planning her tactic on how to get her target and the briefcase alone. His eyebrows furrowed and she could tell he was gathering he thoughts to speak, but a window of opportunity opened, just as her target walked into view just beyond ‘Paul’s’ head.

Y/n tried not to sound to rushed, but she knew her, “If you’ll excuse me” was too harsh and she could feel his eyes on her retreating figure. She put emphasizes on her hips, whether it was for the man at the bar or the man she was approaching - she wasn’t quite sure, but secretly hoped that it had grabbed both of their attention.

“Have you had a nice evening?” She spoke in a smooth voice that sounded nothing like her natural one. Placing a gentle hand on the upper arm of the man she had been seducing for the past few weeks. He smirked down at her, attempting to sultry in nature, but she found nothing about this man attractive. Not like the man who she had spoken to at the bar. She inwardly chided herself for getting distracted so easily.

She only gave him enough attention to leave him wanting more, suggesting about wanting to see him ‘in private’ for a moment, voice full of seduction as her hand sliding down his arm to his own. This would be her moment to grab the briefcase and make a fast getaway. She briefly hoped that ‘Paul’ wouldn’t get in to too much trouble for not accomplishing his mission. The man agreed, pulling her towards a nearby door. She looked over her shoulder, curious to see If he was still there. And he was, now standing, watching with wide eyes. she couldn’t help it, as she pulled the door closed - she sent him a wink and cheeky smile.

‘Camille’ - 1

‘Paul’ - 0

No, no no no no. NO. Oh God, no. I really fucked up. No! SHIT.

Peter quit attempting to mask his anxiousness as the girl and the briefcase disappeared behind a door guarded by two men nearly twice his size. How could he just let himself get distracted? Let the mission get away from him like that? What was he thinking? His inner voice sounded eerily like Steve’s as he chided himself for being so naive. He tried mapping out a scenario to get into the room. Maybe there was a window? He was about to sprint to a bathroom to don his mask. Maybe Karen could scope out the scene and give him some advice. But before he could even move an inch, chaos broke out.

The door his eyes somehow were still trained on busts open, guns being pulled out from random places and random people. Shots ringing out in different directions. Party goers who were just bystanders ducking and screaming. He watched as she elegantly avoided attacks, brief case clutched in her hand as she used it to defend herself and seek an exit. He tried not to focus too much on the blood that stained her gold dress. He could tell that she was struggling to get out of the sea of chaos, her eyes jotting around the room wildly as she fought gracefully and skillfully that wound have Natasha praising her movements.

Peter found himself jumping across the bar to a near window - busting it out with elbow and easily jumping to ground beneath him. He tried to think too much about his plans suddenly altered to aiding the beautiful girl in the gold dress.

Just make it to the door, just make it to the door. Y/n’s voce sang in her head and she weaved and battled her way through the chaos. She wished she had packed more than the small hand gun clasped in her other hand. It had been useful for injuring her target enough to retrieve the briefcase but now, she wished she had more heavy artillery. It took longer than she had wished for her to reach the door, hoping that backup had not yet been called her path to the car would be easy and quick.

She found the opposite as she kicked open the doors. The lavish driveway before her was nearly filled with more agents, all after the silver briefcase in her hand. She surveyed the scenarios, trying to find the quickest way out but fell short as more attackers came trudging her way, bullets starting to fire out in her direction. She was so focused on her next move she hadn’t yet noticed the sleek black Audi revving up towards her. Not until it was stopped in front of her.

Y/n’s hand rose the gun up to aim at the driver, deciding that taking the car was her best option at the point but she faltered as she realized who was staring down the barrel. His hand was raised in surrender as he opened the door across from him, other hand steadily on the wheel, bot flinching at the sound of bullets ricocheting off the exterior of his car. Everything in her past and all the training she had received told her this was a bad idea, that she could not possibly trust this man she had only meet moments ago at the bar. But as agents started to descend upon them at a faster rate, her options were limited and all it took was his sincere, “I’ve got you.” to get her to drop into the car.

Her door was barely shut before he revved the engine and speed off, dust and debris flying up being the wheels, a rapid sound of bullets dinging as they drove away. It was then she noticed that the car was somehow bulletproof and her stomach fell at the idea that maybe Paul was more high level than she had thought. She clutched the briefcase to the side opposite of him just in case, hand on the door, ready to open it and roll out. A sudden outburst of laughter cause her to stop, looking over at him with concern.

His face was lit up with a smile and his eyes crinkled as he let out his chuckle, “Well that’s not how I planned this day to go. What about you?” He looked over at her, smile still on his face. She didn’t know how to react; she had never see someone look so… so beautiful and naturally happy. His laugh was contagious and she found herself breaking out into a smile of its own volition.

“Not exactly.” She replied in a small voice. She knew she needed to ask about his next play, next move, what he thought was about to happen. But she didn’t want to. Not yet, at least. For the first time in her life she was enjoying a wholesome moment, where, despite the circumstance, she felt connected to another human being for once in her very short life.

Peter knew he needed to tell her that he was going to have to take that briefcase, that the world depended on it. But he couldn’t say anything just yet. He liked the way she smiled at him, how her eyes seemed to light up when they met his own. Despite his many infield successes, for the first time he felt that he had done something right. He had made his own decision for once, not based on what he thought the team would praise him for, but what he wanted to do. Peter didn’t regret his decision one bit, at least not in this moment.

Camille’s silence gave him hope that she was trying to hold onto to this moment as well. He wasn’t sure of the destination, or what would happen next. All he knew was that he was going to continuing driving as far as he could, as long as she stayed right there in his passenger seat.

“We need to get rid of this car.” She spoke quietly, looking out her passenger window. We, he thought looking between her and the road quickly. “They’ll try to track us down. I wasn’t able to… extinguish the target. He’s going to come after us.” She added, looking over at him. Hesitancy filled her eyes but he didn’t hesitate to agree. Even though Peter knew that this was going to end in one way, he decided that the right decision could wait just a little bit longer.

“I know a buyer that will cash out enough for both of us to profit.” Peter spoke, not sure where this idea had come from but just fleeting enough to decide that it was his best option. She didn’t reply instantly; he had broken the veil that she had put over situation. Forgetting about what brought her into the car and the cold metal of the briefcase seeping through her dress on to her skin.

“We can talk logistics later. Let’s… figure out how to lose our tail.”

He nodded in agreement and while they sat in silence, their minds are screaming.

A night, turned into two days, and two days morphed into a week.

She had never had a partner before, romantically or professionally. Yet, she adjusted to Paul’s presence rapidly and tried not to let that scare her too much. In the past, very little scared her. But the way her heart thumped when he smiled at her, frightened Y/n. It was all unrealistic, meeting him at a bar where they were both undercover - after the same prize. But she somehow found comfort in knowing that maybe his past was just as murky as her own. She began to trust him; feelings began to bloom in the most unlikely of circumstances. She felt free, untethered to her past. It was liberating, beautiful, and terrifying.

They were at a gas station, filling up the car that Paul had hotwired only hours before - their 3rd car in their trek to no-where. She was grabbing snacks, finding out that he had a rather childish palette and also discovering that maybe she had grown to be too uptight for her age. Somehow, the scared look on the cashier’s face didn’t alert her. Y/n never noticed them reaching for the telephone, a picture of her face plastered on the television behind the counter. WANTED in big red letters. She didn’t notice until it was too late - until he was busting in the door, yelling for her.

Instincts kicked in, she reached across the counter - grabbing the collar of the poor workingman and bashed his head in to the hard surface between them. Anger getting the best of her before she gathered as much of the junk food in her arms, dashing out behind Paul who looked shocked at her actions. She tried not to think about that too much. Sirens were getting closer and she could see the lights getting brighter. It felt as if it was taking him twice as long to get the engine started. Sparks flying for the stripped wires underneath the steering wheel as he desperately tried to get the car moving. She heard the bell of the station’s door ring - the telltale sound of a shotgun being loaded.

“go go GO.” she screamed, in time with the sound of the engine bursting to life. His foot immediately in the gas, dust flying up behind them as he maneuvered the car unto the road again. Siren closer than ever - blue and red lighting up the darkened interior of the car. The shotgun rang, but missed.

He was running from the police now. He was an Avenger, and he was running from the police. His moral compass was begging for him to stop this, but something in his heart told him to keep going. See how this played out, it would be worth it. He tried to remind himself of that. He managed to lose the police, and with directions from Camille, they found a new car and decided it would be best to turn in for the night. The sound of the shower was the only thing that filled the room as he sat at the edge of the bed. Phone in one hand, heart in the other, starting at his hazy reflection in the severely outdated boxed TV.

He could call his team right now, and they would fix everything. It would be simple and quick, painless even. He had almost convinced himself to do it. The pros outweighed the cons and this would be the right thing to do. But the sound of the shower brought him back to the moment, his thoughts flooding with the idea of her. Her. The girl who had consumed his conscious for the past 9 days. The girl who he knew nothing about, but felt everything for. He could see the life and the world in her eyes. The girl who had him rethinking his choices, who he was as a person. He had gone against every single one of his morals, but had never felt more free.

He acted as if he wasn’t lying to himself.

Her phone rang out a gentle tune just as she was about to get in the dingy motel shower. Hopes that the warm water would give her clarity on her next move. She couldn’t think straight in his presence. Never once had she formulated a plan that wouldn’t only benefit herself, but she found all her ideas ensured his safety - even if it meant risking her own.

She didn’t say hello, only answers the blocked number and placed the phone to her ear. Eyes locked on her reflection in the mirror. The voice on the other end caused her pulse to ring in her ears.

“I will find you.” The voice of her vengeful target hissed, “You’ve forgotten the power I have. The length of my reach. You will never be safe. I will get my property.”

She couldn’t think of a reply, the idea of letting Paul know was her first thought - but she immediately pushed that idea away as quickly as it came.

“Then make a deal.” She replied quietly, hoping the shower masked the sound of her voice. She knew she was in no place to bargain, but it wasn’t in her nature to turn over easily.

A harsh laugh echoed through the receiver, “You will give me my property and I will consider letting you live.”

“You forget that you have no idea who I really am. The reach that I have. I could end you, no matter who you’ve poisoned with your money. Did you think I was like those other girls you like to parade on your arm? Oh, baby, I am the best and worst thing you’ll ever have. I could end you in seconds.” She hissed, letting all the pent-up emotions she had kept to herself unleash. “I’ve kept this going because I like this little jet-set Bonnie and Clyde thing that’s going on right now. It’s entertaining… but I get bored real easy. And the last thing you want me to do is get bored.”

He didn’t reply instantly. Sat there in silence, mind probably going wild trying to worm his way out of this one while she stood there confidently. Reflection smirking back at her as she waited for him to catch her bait. She couldn’t live up to any of those threats, but what he doesn’t know will make her rich. After a few more beats, a quiet and defeated, “What do you want?” came through.

She smiled wickedly at her own success. “I want 1.2 million wired to an account in the Caribbean’s and 250k in cash at the drop off. You and I both know that I’m cutting you a deal.”

And she was, really. The highest bidder, and the reason she was even in this mess, had offered 2.3 billion for the retrieval of the item. The small device had that much power and a small part of her, the part that she referred to as still being human, felt that maybe she should to turn over to the good guys. She imaged that those Avengers guys would know what to do with it.

But 1.4 million was more than enough for her to sit her ass on beach for a couple of years. She had a fleeting thought of asking him to join her.

There was silence, as he thought over her demands. Neither of them wanted to budge, but he was the desperate one now.

“I will send you a location and you will be there within 24 hours.” came the hoarse words from the other side of the line. She had ruined this man with only a few minutes of her time. It made her feel powerful.

“One last thing.” she tried to keep her voice from wavering, “My partner walks free.”

“I didn’t call you to get a lecture. I called you get help.” Peter spoke quietly, standing outside the motel door. Eyes zeroed in on the slight crack he’d left open in the door to see when she came out of the shower. His heart was pounding and was regretting his choices in the past 4 minutes.

“This is really bad kid.”

“Yeah, Steve. I know. But I- I don’t have an excuse, okay? I did what I did and now I need you to help me.” Peter was all but pleading, irritation growing in his veins. Why wouldn’t he just agree to help already? It wasn’t like Captain America was one to leave a friend in need. I mean look at what he did for Bucky all those years ago. He could easily help Peter out with this, why was Steve hesitating?

“Who is she? Who does she work for?”

“None of that matters. Just know we’re leaving in the morning and I’ll tell you where- “

“You know I’m going to have to bring her in Peter. She’s a felon and-”

“And so am I as of 9 days ago.” Peter hissed back, defenses coming up to protect a girl he barely knew. He should’ve called Tony, he chided, listening closer into the room to make sure he hadn’t heard the shower turn off. He thought his enhanced ears could hear her talking, but it had only taken one night for him to realize she liked to softly hum in the shower. He couldn’t control his wide smile when he came across that little quirk.

“You’re a kid and you make mist- “

“You’re lecturing again.” Peter deadpanned.

Steve sighed, thumb and pointer finger pinching the bridge of his nose tight as he tried to sort this out in his mind. Thankfully no one knew exactly who Peter was, so if he made this quick and low-radar, then there would be little to no knowledge of Peter’s position as an accomplice. When Peter explained that he was with the girl who Steve had seen on the news, Steve suddenly felt his age kick in as his heart began beating out of his chest. What was the kid thinking? Of course, media and information systems didn’t know much about her, and even with recruiting Nat to get intel, still very little came up. But, there was just enough out there to know that she dealt the same services that Romanoff had once dealt herself.

“Send me your location tomorrow. Nat and I will be on standby.”

Peter felt the weight of the world on his shoulder fall off, his shoulder visibly slumping with relief. The shower turned off only seconds later.

“Steve - one last thing.”

“Yeah, kid?”

“You’ve gotta let her go.”

The gradual light coming through the cheap curtains woke her up first. The dusty room congesting her nose and making eyes itch. She turned over, noting that Peter was facing her - but still fast asleep. She had grown used to sharing a bed with him, she almost found… comfort in the heat that his body created under blankets. Keeping her usually cold feet warm for once. She peered at him, the sunlight behind him making his brown hair glow lighter. She wondered how crystal his eyes would look in sunlight. Not that she didn’t find his happy eyes already one of his best features. His face was relaxed and there was a small snore that resounded as his chest expanded with his breath.

She used to find that annoying with the other men she had been with, but with him, she found it endearing and grounding as she tried to fall asleep herself. She was wrecked. Her world turned upside in a way she had never anticipated. She had no family, or friends. She didn’t have personal connections that kept her in one place. But his presence made her want to be still for once. To enjoy moments like the sunset or a good movie on TV, commercials and all. She was finding contentment in the simple things, things that often bored or disinterested her, and it scared her.

His phone buzzed crossed the room and his eyes opened immediately with sound. She noticed that he had an ability to react before her, see things she couldn’t quite, and even pick out some noises she had never noticed. He heard sirens several moments before her hears could even try to pick up a sound. She figured that’s why whoever worked for chose him, despite his lack of experience, for the job. Y/n didn’t try to play off that she wasn’t looking at him, opting to give him a small smile and continue to study his face. She couldn’t read his emotions, but she could tell he was in deep thought, despite having only woken moments before. A small crease between his eyebrows.

It wasn’t until she noticed him subtly shifting closer to her that she pinned where exactly his thought might be. For the first time, she felt nervous about someone kissing her. Heart thumping as he neared, his eyes darting across her face to try and detect any hesitation. There was none on her features and she wasn’t opposed to the idea, but all these feelings she had felt, and tried to push away. She wasn’t sure what a kiss would mean to them. Y/n made no effort to stop him, even moving closer as well, hoping that he would take the move. Because for the first time in her life, she let someone else make the decision.

His nose nudged against hers gently, her eyes falling shut at the soft caress. She felt his thumb at her chin, tilting her head up slightly before placing his lips against her own. It was soft, and sweet, and gentle. A kiss she had never experienced before, one that made her chest feel hallow and full at all at once. That made her hands tremble and body calm. He continued to kiss her like she was fragile, and even thought she was the farthest thing from it, Y/n enjoyed being treated that way, cared for that way. Her hands came up to his neck, pulling her body closer to his, legs intertwining. Neither of them had the intention of going further, this felt more intimate than any other experience either of them had ever had.

Camille pulled away from him with a gasp, his eyes opened to find hers still closed, taking in the moment. Something about the way she looked that morning, peaceful, controlled, had all those emotions he had been pushing away come back into reality. He was nervous she would reject him, which he had experience more than enough of in his lifetime. But she didn’t falter as he moved closer and it gave him all the confidence in the world. Neither of them spoke, even after she opened her eyes to look back them. Voices trapped somewhere between their heart and mouth, unsure what to say, but wanting to say everything all at once.

His phone went off again, jolting him back to reality. Back to the realization that more existed outside of this dingy motel room and this moment with her. The weight of it on his shoulders once again, he only hoped she didn’t noticed the change in him. He gently rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip, before forcing himself to move away. She didn’t say anything, only moved to get up as well. The air in the room felt still, calm but at the same time a tinge of something that could build up to tension. Peter felt content in himself and with her, but everything beyond that door, that is what made him anxious and unsure.

Little is spoken between them as they gather their things, Peter saying that they need to get a move on. She follows along, neither agreeing or protesting. He wondered vaguely about her lack of communication. The past few days she had spoken up about his decisions, particularly those she disagreed on, but always let him know her thoughts. The radio silence worried him slightly, but he tried to push that way. There were much bigger things for him to worry about.

Y/n received the drop-off location about the same time that Peter got up to answer his own phone. It was a nicer hotel that had amenities like a bar and indoor pool. She rolled her eyes, of course the target would choose a location with a high rate of witnesses. She had wanted as little fallout as she could get, this was going to be a little more difficult that she had anticipated. Peter’s voice saying that they should probably get going brought her back into the room. Her thoughts still clouded her brain, strategies, exit points, things she often had a few days to prepare for, swimming around her head. She complied, not saying anything. Only stuffing her few things into duffel bag, they stole from a gas station a few days back and followed him out of the door.

The had been on the road for 5 hours now, when she decided to speak up. “I think I found a good hotel for us to stop at?” She flashed him her phone briefly, just enough for him to glance at before looking back at the road. One hand firmly on the wheel, the other on the gear shift. She briefly thought back to first time their stolen ride wasn’t an automatic and Peter became flustered behind the wheel, hands shifting sporadically everywhere, eyes darting about because it had been 10 minutes since they broke in and they still hadn’t drove away. She had been able to control her laughter just enough to direct him in out to get the car moving without flooding the engine, and proceeded to give him tips as he tore out of the parking lot. Peter was still red faced for 3 hours after. He looked almost proficient driving now, shifting gears smoothly and precise. Her eyes trailed over him, shamelessly checking him out before turning back to her phone.

Peter pretended not to notice, but a small smirk graced his lips despite it. She pretended not to notice.

“That looks a bit expensive.” He muttered.

She tried to stay nonchalant, if she showed a desperation to stay there - it might tip him off. “I think we deserve a nice bed and a bath in a hotel that’s actually clean for a night, don’t you?” She turned on her charm, as guilty as it made her feel. Never once had she manipulated him in the time they spent together since the Gala. It made her heart break to see him react like she wanted him to as she trailed her nails lightly up the forearm resting on the console between them.

He audibly gulped, “Y-yeah. I guess you’re right.”

She had to look out her window to hid the frown that fell on her lips. For once she felt guilty in doing her job, for once she felt dirty. He deserved more than coy smiles and deceit. He was making her soft, and she couldn’t tell if she hated it or loved it.

They made it to the drop site with 2 hours to spare, it was earlier than Y/n had expected but she became grateful at seeing just how busy this hotel was. She needed to strategize and it didn’t help that the lady at the front desk told them they’d have to wait another hour before their room was ready.

“Please enjoy our bar. One complimentary drink on us for your wait.”

Y/n could practically feel the anxiety radiating off Peter as they sat themselves at the bar. The irony of it didn’t go unnoticed to her. Even more so when Peter passed the drink voucher to the bartender and ordered an old fashioned. She smiled at him and laughed lightly, looking at her with an emotion that made her stomach flutter. She went to say something, but her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She excused herself to the bathroom, pausing for a moment to take him in. The way his curly hair framed his face, particularly that one curl that always stayed in his face. The way his brows scrunched as he concentrated on the TV across from them. The way his mouth looked as he took a drink of the old fashion. She wanted to remember him like this, not the face of disappointment and betrayal that he would have by the end of this.

She was hoping, praying, everything and above, that this would be last time she would see him. Before she could stop herself, she gently grabbed his chin after he set the drink down, turning his face to hers. She had caught off-guard, his eyebrows furrowing with concern as he noticed the inevitable look on her face. She tried to hide it, but she knew she was failing. She gave him a small smile in attempt to soothe his thoughts. She pulled him close, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, then his cheek before pulling away.

“Don’t wait for me.” She whispered, before getting up to leave.

He laughed lightly, slightly confused but called after her that he’ll find her when the room is ready. She didn’t reply, but kept walking. Tears in her eyes and throat and chest constricted as she kept a sob locked down.

Peter watches her walk away, noting that he steps look heavier than usual. Concern enters his mind but doesn’t have time to linger as his phone goes off on the bar infant of him. It’s Steve, saying their arrival is less than 5 minutes. He’s grateful that she’s not here, meaning he sneak out with the briefcase that holds the device. He hoped he would be able to see her one more time before he had to leave, but he doubted that would happen. He was lost in his thoughts of her when gun fire deafened his heightened hearing. He reached for his ears before jumping into action. People in the lobby were scattering.

Gun fire was going off from two ends of the hotel. Peter recognized the uniforms of some, others looked like civilians carrying military grade weapons. It was a set up. Peter panicked, calling out for Camille and attempting to go in her direction. A firm hand stopped him,

“Where’s the device?” Steve’s voice was firm, but there was a relief sound to it. The kid had made it out unscathed and even though shit was hitting the fan, Peter wasn’t in the crosshairs. Peter spun to wear the briefcase had been tucked at his feet at the bar, but faltered when he realized it was gone. He paled, trying to retrace everything. His eyes fell on Steve when he realized… “Where’d she go?” The relief in Steve’s was gone, his face was hard and he was now in mission mode. Peter fumbled but couldn’t make words. How could she? Why would she? Is the reason that-? Steve didn’t wait for an answer, pushing Peter of the way so he could set off on tearing the place apart to find her. Peter knew he wouldn’t though.

Chaos was erupting around him, but all he could do was sit back down at the bar. Defeated, hopeless, lost. He reached for the old fashion and downed in one go.

Another hand on placed itself on his shoulder and Peter spun around to get ready to argue with Steve, but stopped in place.

“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Paul.” the mask of the Iron Man suit lifting away to reveal a tired and irritated Tony.

“How’d you- Did Steve?”

Tony started fiddling with a blueprint of the hotel, heat signature popping up and showing a crowded room on the 8th floor. “Your girlfriend called.” Was all he said before jetting off in the direction of 803, what was to be his and Camille’s bedroom.

It happened all too fast. Before Y/n knew it, guns were going off and she was fighting 10 men on her own. She took down the target in one movement, leaving him bleeding on the floor and his men scattering for revenge. What she wasn’t aware of was the onslaught of S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical teams barging in on the place. She had called Stark Industries, at their last gas station stop. Leaving a voicemail with a very concerned lady that detailed what was about to down, telling them that no matter what - her accomplice had nothing to do with anything and he knew nothing.

Y/n knew not to trust the target, and knew that she couldn’t return this device to him. She kind of liked this stupid planet she lived on, and didn’t want to see it’s destruction in her time. She only hoped that the Avengers would go easy on Paul. She had to leave him there to get away herself. And that left knots in her stomach but traitors like them never win. She managed to grab the money bag and, just as an explosion happened at the hotel door, shoot out the window of the room. Escaping just as Tony and Steve, equally surprised to see the other’s presence, enter the room to see the men she had taken out.

It took Peter a moment for his brain to catch up with his body as he darted after Tony. His stealth suit coming in handy underneath his clothes. It didn’t take him long to catch up, but he was frozen in place as soon as he arrived. The room was trashed, bodies lying across the floor. Tony and Steve stood beside the bed, the briefcase Peter recognized that was supposed to have the device between them, opened. They looked at him, waiting for his move.

Peter stepped up to the bed to find the device still safely tucked away, a note taped to it.

“I’m sorry” scrawled in quick but neat letters.

Tony nor Steve spoke as Steve gathered the suitcase, closing it, and then putting it their own protection case. They left, Tony gently patting Peter as he stood there, staring at the note in his hand.

#adult!peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker x reader #marvel fic

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papi-chulo-arthur · 6 years ago

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Dutch Van Der Linde | Relationship Alphabet

A = Activity (What’s their favourite activity to do with you?)

Dutch, being the bookworm that he is, loves to spend the rare evening, when everything in camp is stable, having you pressed against his chest as he reads chapters of his favourite novels to you. He loves how you laugh when he creates a new tone for each character and places kisses to the back of your neck when he finds a chapter awfully boring. Reading to you relaxes him.

B = Beginnings (How do they act in the beginning of the relationship?)

Dutch is a highly confident man, that has a suave personality and a way with words. So, when he’s first courting you, he turns on his charm and uses it to find out more about you. He loves to make you blush at the beginning of your relationship, to push boundaries so that you feel more comfortable around him and his lifestyle. Dutch isn’t one to take things slow, so he makes sure you can keep up with his pace.

C = Communication (How do they communication with their S/O)

Dutch isn’t the best communicator when it’s come to relationships. This is partly because of the stress that comes with leading a gang of outlaws, and partly because he doesn’t how women operate all that well. On the rare occasion, he will listen to what you have to say, but when it’s his turn to formulate an opinion or a reply, expect brutality and a twisted truth.

D = Drunk (What they’re like when they’re drunk)

Depending on Dutch’s mood when he first starts drinking, determines the outcome of how he is when he’s drunk. He’s been known to be the life of the party, making his way around camp to have a laugh with everyone and take you happily back to his tent at the end of the night. However, if’s he drinking to drown his sorrows, expect an ugly man that doesn’t care who he puts down.

E = Emergency (How are they in emergency situations?)

Dutch always takes a logical approach to emergency situations. He knows how to keep a clear head and how to keep others around him calm so that he best outcome (well mostly, the best outcomes) plays out. However, if it’s you that the emergency is centred around, his brain switches off and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. It’s in this moment that Dutch realises how much you actually mean to him, so he’s shouting at everyone to help you, just hoping that you’ll come out of it okay.

F = Free spot (Any canon I come up with)

Dutch wishes he could love you harder, but he’s never been able to love anyone as much as he loved Annabelle. Maybe it’s because he’s scared to lose you too.

G = Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they receive?)

Dutch isn’t one for giving gifts, as he feels that he’s given the entire camp a safe place to stay. Although, he does claim that his words of wisdom are a gift from him to you, but even you know that’s bullshit. If Dutch does give a gift, it’s usually something materialistic, with little meaning behind it, like the pearl necklace and silver ring he bought you at the beginning of your relationship. As for receiving gifts? Dutch really isn’t into it. He finds joys in other things.

H = Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle?)

Dutch is the kind of guy to only show affection in private. He isn’t into PDA, and you’re lucky to get him to hold you hand. Although, if you are in the city together, he does enjoy having you arm linked around his as he shows you off to the world. When you’re in your tent together is when he softens. Dutch is the kind to lay back and have you rest your rest on his chest. You enjoy listening to his heart beat and he loves when your fingers draw tiny patterns on his chest.

I = Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show they irritation?)

When is this guy not irritated? I know that he seems happy, but he has a lot to deal with. Being kind isn’t easy, especially when you’re the leader of a bunch of rebellious degenerates. You could say that life itself irritates him something. Usually, Dutch expresses his annoyance through little outburst that are usually directed at you. He knows that you’re committed to him and that it won’t be hard apologising to you later.

J = Jackpot (If they come into a large sum of money, how do they spend it?)

Cigars. Tailored clothes. Shiny new shoes. I really don’t think Dutch would spend the money any other way. He’d probably donate some to camp, but he’s going to ride in a $2000 horse before putting his name in the ledger.

K = Kryptonite (What is the ultimate weakness?)

Dutch LOVES to have his shoulders rubbed. He especially loves to have them rubbed by you. If you offer him a massage, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing and be at your mercy.

L = Laughter (What makes them laugh?)

Dutch is a rather serious guy, but he still has a pretty good sense of humour. More than that, he has a wicked sense of humour. He’ll kill a bunch of O’Driscoll’s and laugh after it instead of feeling guilt or sorrow.

M = Morning (How do they wake up in the morning?)

Do not talk to Dutch before he’s had a cup of coffee. Although Dutch is usually awake before the rest of the camp, it isn’t with a hard slog on your behalf. It’s you who wakes the king up each morning and he likes to be woken up to lips on bare chest and his fingers netted in your hair.

N = Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? Do the show it?)

Dutch isn’t a needy man in the way that he needs to be around you all the time. Dutch is independent and is fine with not seeing or talking to you for a rather long while. Although, this man does have needs. He likes to have his dick sucked is all I’m saying.

O = Oasis (What is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?)

Dutch loves sitting by the river reading a book. He’s at his happiest when he is undisturbed and can freely ponder his thoughts without interruption from people. Although, he does make an exception for you to come with him and sit, back against his chest as he reads to you.

P = Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle you being in pain?)

Dutch doesn’t have as high a pain tolerance as someone like Arthur, but he can take his fair share. Dutch knows how to take a punch and has been taking them all his life. If Dutch is in pain, it tends to turn into anger with whoever is around him. Although, if it’s an enemy that’s made him bleed, they won’t leave his sight alive. When it comes to your pain Dutch isn’t as attentive as he should be, more times more concerned about the camp than how you’re feeling. Something like period pain doesn’t mean much to him, but if you’ve been seriously injured or your soul is aching, he’ll be right by your side.

Q = Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship?)

“What you will allow is what will continue.”

R = Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing you after a long time of being apart?)

“Come, share a drink with me, my love as we swap stories of out endeavours.” Dutch is a mans man, but he longs for a womanly touch when it’s been out for reach for a long time. He’ll sling an arm around your shoulders, pull you tight into his body and kiss your temple before whispering hot in your ear. Dutch only likes a short drink to catch up before your tent flaps are shut and your flaps are… open.

S = Stress (What stresses them out? How do they deal with stress?)

Dutch is always a little stressed, and who can blame him? It isn’t easy work keeping track of everyone in camp. But Dutch deals with stress well. He uses it to motive him to get his work done and keep the people around him safe. Sometimes, when it’s all getting a little too much, he’ll sit down by the fire with you and hold you hand as he explains his thoughts and feelings, more often times trying to have them make sense to himself, more so than to you.

T = Terror (What are they afraid of?)

Dutch is afraid of losing his position of power. He knows that he’s getting older, that Winters are getting colder, and that there are plenty of young and capable men who could lead just as well as he. However, Dutch has a silver tongue and for the most part, that keeps people on his side and him as their leader.

U = Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?)

Dutch’s silver tongue. He could make a polar bear buy ice.

V = Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?)

Dutch is always fighting. He’s fighting to stay alive and to stay free. He’s a tough guy and his many encounters with enemies and the law have shaped him to not only have excellent physical fighting skills, but to be strong mentally. Dutch likes to strategize before he fights people. He doesn’t ever go in blind because he knows that you don’t win by being reckless.

W = Wow (What do you do that really surprises them?)

Dutch was pleasantly surprised when you booked him a bath in town and helped him bathe. Being the leader of the gang, he constantly gives to people, so this small gesture kept him happy for a long while. This man lets out little grunts when his hair is washed for him, but they’re not quite as loud as the grunts he gives when you wash a certain body part…

X = Explicit

Honestly, Dutch loves nothing more than seeing you on your knees, gagging on his dick. The man loves a standing blow job with his fingers tangled in your hair, his hips ready to move if he wants to speed up the process. Oh, and he likes it when you swallow.

Y = Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly they can’t handle it?)

Look, this might not go down that well, but Dutch doesn’t respect women, nor their bodily functions. He is not going to be around for your period or child birth.

Z = ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits?)

Dutch is a back sleeper. He more times awake during the night than asleep, so if he can have your head resting on his chest, with his fingers combing through your hair then that’s good enough for him.

#dutch van der linde #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde imagine #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #papi-chulo-arthur #relationship alphabet #charles smith #javier escuella #sadie adler

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fallout4holmes · 6 years ago

Text

Journal 46

Christmas in Sanctuary was splendid. Preston truly outdid himself. The return home was practically effortless, in no small part thanks to the company of Piper and Hancock. Hancock returned to Goodneighbor (to the relief of Diamond City's guards) and my family prepared to meet the new year.

Valentine discouraged me from attempting homemade fireworks for the occasion, resulting in a quiet night of listening to Diamond City Radio with the Wrights and Ellie over to celebrate. Nat and Shaun were asleep long before midnight, leaving the four adults to enjoy each other's company as Codsworth poured.

"Wellingham informs me the Upper Stands are still livid," Piper said with no small amount of pride.

"I can't believe you actually published that article," Ellie shook her head.

The article in question was Piper's scathing criticism of the anti-ghoul ban, and the behavior of the Upper Stands residents in particular. The fact that she included direct quotes from victims of the ban and those who tried to help them (including a certain infamous mayor) only made her point even harder to ignore.

"I think it was amazing," Ellie clarified, "but I would have been terrified."

"You sell yourself short, kid," Valentine said with a smile. "I've seen you stare down plenty of clients with more venom in them than a radscorpion. Goodneighbor-girl like you isn't going to let anyone boss her around."

"I guess you'd know, boss," Ellie smiled back, "but it seems like there's a difference between an angry client and an angry city."

"Person or city," Piper shrugged, "it's the same thing."

"When one of those persons could lock you out of the city, it likely puts a unique perspective on the situation," I commented.

Piper laughed lightly, "Yeah, that was irritating, but then I wouldn't have met you, Blue."

"So what's your encore?" Valentine asked.

Piper shrugged, "I'll find something, always do." She glanced around at us with thinly disguised mischief, "I don't suppose any of you three have come across any exclusive scoops?"

Valentine chuckled, "If we do, you'll be the first one we tell."

With the midnight hour came Travis Miles wishing everyone a Happy New Year and an ancient recording of "Auld Lang Syne." We bade our guests a happy New Year and I assured Piper that Nat was welcome to stay as long as she liked in the morning. Piper and Ellie returned to their respective homes, and my partner and I turned in.

Shaun and Nat were up and active long before I was, and hurried down to be treated to Codsworth's feast of a breakfast. By the time I came down, Shaun was on the sofa excitedly showing off his latest magazine to Nat while Valentine watched from the kitchen table, a fond expression on his face.

"You're wearing your Christmas present," I said to him, pleased.

The new (in that it was at least whole instead of patchwork) trench coat fit his thin frame well. He smiled and gestured to the small briar pipe I was currently filling with tobacco, "And you're using yours. Hard time getting out of bed this morning?"

"I became motivated when I heard the children laughing."

His hand covered mine on the table, "Glad the sound carried. I was thinking, what with how quiet things have been both for Minutemen and detective work, you might want to check in with the Railroad."

"Worried I'm getting bored?"

"You are bored, Holmes. What I'm worried about is worse than that."

"My family life is successfully keeping the black moods at bay," I assured him. It was not precisely true, but having them and their love to focus on did help me get through the day with some semblance of functionality.

Valentine wasn't fooled, but there was a knock at the door and I hurried to answer it.

"Piper! Come in, please."

"Aw!" Nat groaned, "Do I have to go home?"

"Nah, you can stay if Shaun's dads say it's ok," Piper laughed. "I, uh, actually came to talk to you, Blue. I need a story, something simple that'll sell, and I hate to say it but a piece on the Combat Zone would really move some papers."

"The Combat Zone?" Valentine walked over, frowning. "Not sure it gets much seedier than that."

"It's a raider establishment, isn't it?" I asked.

"'Establishment' is too nice a word for it," Valentine objected.

"It's a cage-fighting ring," Piper explained.

"And you want to see for yourself what it's like?" I asked, a bit incredulous.

She shrugged, "Want to? No. But will a tale of the depravity of raiders and their entertainment appeal to literally everyone safe behind walls? Yep."

"Like watching a train wreck," I sighed. "And you want me to come with you in case something goes wrong."

"Never hurts to have some backup."

"Let the record show I said this was a terrible idea," Valentine grumbled.

I turned to him, "If you rather I not -"

"Piper's gonna go anyway whether you go or not, and this way you can watch each other's backs. Not to mention how we were just talking about you being bored."

I squeezed his hand with a smile and said to Piper, “I'll get my things.”

The sign outside was a list of rules; no fighting outside the ring, no caps no entrance, and no loitering or begging. Breaking the rules would result in being “shot or worse.”

“Simple enough rules to follow,” I said to Piper, who scoffed and led the way inside. Two raiders were tied up behind the box office of the old theater with a sign declaring them to be “rule breakers.” We ignored their jeers and opened the doors to the theater. The entire stage had been converted into a cage, inside of which a pair of women fought. Raiders were scattered throughout the seats, a bar set up near the stage, as a man in a suit narrated the fight. One of the fighters went down, a cheer went up, and someone noticed us. We heard a shout, and Piper and I ducked behind the seats as the shots started. Their blood already up from watching the fight, the raiders were energized, vicious, and distinctly sloppy. It was the only factor in our favor, but it was enough.

“I believe they don’t appreciate people who aren’t raiders entering!”

“No shit, Blue! You really are the world's second best detective!”

I leapt out of range of a grenade, "Second best?!"

"Gotta respect the classics, Blue! Nicky'll always be on top!"

Drawing my blade, I charged the raider attempting to bash her head in, "I don't see what that has to do with his skills as a detective."

She groaned and shot the raider at point blank, a touch overkill considering my sword was already through his lung, "I did not need to know that!"

"Know what? Emotional connection should have no bearing on an analysis of skill."

"You're infuriating."

"Down!" I pulled her to the floor as a new barrage of bullets flew.

The fight was longer than I would have liked, and Valentine would be displeased with the cut on my forehead and bruise across the right side of my face, a gunshot wound through my left bicep, but we were the victors. Piper fared better than I, though I did see her apply a stimpak into her leg at one point.

When all finally fell quiet, we surveyed the bloodied theater. "Seriously," she asked quietly, "you don't think your partner's just as good a detective as you?"

I smiled, "I believe he is exactly as good as I am."

"But not better," she grinned.

"I anticipate it being a common topic of mutual teasing throughout our life together."

"Hey!" a voice called from the direction of the cage, "You done killing each other out there?" Hiding in the cage was an auburn-haired ghoul in a worn old business suit and a fierce, thin woman with shabby deep red hair in a leather corset and pants. They stood as we approached, the ghoul commenting, “Well. That could have gone worse.”

“Pretty good show from where I was sittin’,” the woman said.

“Are you high?” the ghoul scolded, then, “What am I sayin’, of course you are.”

“Still winnin’ the fight, wasn’t I?” the woman demanded.

“You’re strung out and getting sloppy is what you are. ‘Course, guess we don’t have to worry about that,” he turned to Piper and I, “since these two just put us out of business. I don’t know if I should kiss you or have my little bird here feed you your own entrails.”

“I told ya’ to stop callin’ me that!”

“Not our fault you cater to raiders,” Piper huffed.

“Who are you, exactly?” I asked.

“Tommy Lonegan,” the ghoul replied. “This is my place… was my place. We used to serve a more legit clientele, but about two years ago a gang of raiders rolled in and we became a more, uh, exclusive establishment. But, keeping those idiots entertained was what kept the lights on. Not exactly sure what we’re gonna do now.”

The fighter scoffed, “To hell with ‘em. More’ll come. Just need a quick breather and I’ll be ready to go.”

Mr. Lonegan was disgusted, “A breather? What, so you can slam more of that junk into your arm? No. No, you know what? I think this was a blessing in disguise. You caught the end of that bout,” he asked me, “what’d ya think of Cait’s work?”

I was wary. “Why do you ask?”

“Consider it professional curiosity. Now what’d ya think of the fight?”

“I hardly saw anything to judge by, but she seems talented.”

“Least someone knows skill when they see it,” Cait muttered.

“It ain’t your fightin’ skills I’m concerned with,” Mr. Lonegan rebutted, a businessman’s pitch in his voice, “So here’s my predicament. I suddenly got no audience. No audience means I got no caps coming in. And if you ain’t bringing in caps, little bird, you ain’t an asset, you’re a liability. To me, and to yourself. So here’s what I’m thinking. What say I let you take over her contract? She goes with you, watches your back…” he faltered at my skepticism, “look, you’d be doin’ me a favor while I try to get the place back in order. What do ya’ say?”

Cait was incredulous. “Me? And him?”

“Why would you want her to go with me?” I asked.

“Yeah, Tommy,” Cait demanded, “just why the hell you trying to get rid of me?”

Lonegan sighed. “Look, truth is, all that junk, it’s been making you careless. And I don’t want to be the one doing color commentary when you finally hit the floor. Alright? So just do me this favor, both of you. Please.”

He was clearly concerned for her safety. Sending her with me would keep her out of the way while he tried to pick up the pieces of his ruined enterprise, yes… but I wondered if he knew exactly who he was sending her with. I didn’t much care for the idea; what use had I for a cage fighter’s contract? But I was better than any number of alternatives. The vast majority of them, in fact.

“Very well,” I said.

“What?” Piper said behind me.

Cait was not so easily swayed either, “Don’t I get a say in all this?”

Lonegan was stern, “That ain’t how a contract works. Besides, you really wanna stay here? No audience, no caps. No one to talk to but yours truly?”

Cait rolled her eyes, “Jesus, point taken.”

Lonegan smiled, “Good. It’s settled, then. And here,” he handed me a bag of caps, “it’s the purse from the last fight.”

“This isn’t necessary -”

“Call it an exterminator’s fee,” he grinned.

Cait took a step toward me and stopped, turning back to her former employer, “Now wait just a second. What exactly are you gonna do without me here?”

Lonegan sounded hopeful, “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll get this place set up right, maybe find a less blood-soaked clientele. Now get the hell out of here.” He softened, “You ain’t welcome anymore, little bird.”

Cait shook her head, “You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that, Tommy?”

He smiled warmly, “You don’t have to tell me. Now go on.”

Piper’s whisper was urgent and harsh as we left, “A cage-fighter?! Blue, what the hell?”

“Given her alternatives, I didn’t see much choice.”

“Christ, Blue, you and your strays.”

“Miss Cait,” I said, “my name is Holmes, and this is Piper Wright. Do you need to gather anything before we go?”

She shrugged, and picked up a shotgun from a dead raider. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Nick better not blame me for any of this,” Piper muttered.

I sighed, and led the way back to Diamond City. I hadn’t the slightest idea what use I would have for a former cage-fighter, but perhaps at the very least my family might take some comfort in my having a bodyguard. I found Valentine at the Agency; he and Ellie were going through the files when we walked in. “Nick, you have files from cases that have been dead ends for longer than I’ve been alive,” Ellie was saying.

“Can’t bring myself to toss any of ‘em out,” he shrugged. “Never know when - well, if it isn’t my favorite former icicle,” he said with a smile as he saw me.

“I’ve returned in a timely fashion,” I protested.

He chuckled, “Glad to have you back. Who’s our new friend?”

I introduced Cait, and explained how I came to be in possession of her contract, such as it was. Valentine was skeptical, but remained polite. Cait was taciturn. We ultimately decided that Cait could use the spare bed in the Agency for now, upon Ellie's suggestion. That much settled, I showed Cait around town. She was impressed under the cynicism, and amazingly humbled by Vadim when we stopped at the Dugout. Apparently, 14 shots is a hard record to break, even for her. Valentine wanted all the details later, and is not particularly pleased with the situation.

"I don't want to complain about another pair of eyes watching your back," he said, "but I'm not convinced this particular set is going to be a good one."

I can't say I disagree, but I've decided to give her a chance.

#fallout 4 #fan fiction #nick valentine #piper #cait #sherlock holmes #crossover

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ardentmuse · 7 years ago

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The Real Me (Harry Hart x Reader)

Kingsman - Harry Hart x fem!Reader

Summary: When Harry wakes from a coma with temporary amnesia, you are the Statesman agent assigned to help him regain his memory.

Wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings: none (let me know if you see something

Masterlist

(NOTE: gif courtesy of google. Credit to original creator)

Day 1

You took a deep breath before entering the bedroom containing your newest patient, a man who had just woken after months in a coma, recovered from a rather gruesome crime scene at a church a little ways from Headquarters. Really the room was an all-white security cell with a one-way mirror for observation, but your patient didn’t need to know that.

When you entered and shut the door behind you, the man turned. He had an eye-patch covering where his eye once had been and was still recovering from some bruises, but otherwise, you couldn’t help but note, he was remarkably handsome.

“Hello,” he said, formal and friendly, “Could you tell me where I am?” He broke eye contact with you to look around the room, though there was nothing to indicate anything helpful.

“You’re in a safe place,” you said, intentionally vague though reassuring. You smiled at him, hoping he’d decide to trust you.

“And who are you?” he asked.

“They call me Brandy.”

“Is that your real name?” His gaze was back on you, genuinely curious.

“It’s more of a nickname,” you informed him as you took a cautious step closer, “and what’s your name?”

“I’m Harry.” You smiled, happy that your patient had the basics. He was doing better than you thought.

Day 6

“Tell me about your parents, Harry.”

As Statesman’s resident psychologist, you had been tasked with the job of trying to recover the memories of Harry Hart, origins unknown. You had learned everything you could about his childhood and teen years, but then things get cloudy. He claimed to be lepidopterist but you knew that wasn’t true given your research. Still, you’d provided him with materials to study and journals to work in, hoping that living out part of his fictional life would help him remember his real one.

You were quite excited about this assignment. As psychologist for an elite intelligence organization, your primary role was assessing agents for approval for field work, helping to deal with the stress. Occasionally, you’d be called in to build psycho-graphic profiles on targets to help field agents know how to best build trust and predict the enemy’s next move. Recently, the majority of your job had been listening to Tequila complain about Whiskey or Whiskey complain about Tequila. Honestly, you had earned some work that really used your skills.

While social psychology had become your trade, your real passion had always been the biological foundations of behavior; how the physical makeup of the brain influenced personality, cognition, and motor function. Harry’s case was perfect for you. The primary location of the damage to his brain shouldn’t have impacted his memory at all. All the force had been concentrated to his frontal lobe, so you’d expect erratic moods, changes in motivations, difficulty with higher level thinking, and even temporary amnesia, but not permanent memory loss. Your only logic was that Harry’s primary issue was distinguishing reality from fiction, a higher order function. Somewhere in his head his memories existed, but he was having trouble seeing them as his past. Perhaps he was processing them as stories or movies or the lives of friends, but not his own history.

“My parents,” he reflected, pulling his leg up underneath him where he sat on his bed, you beside him, “were reserved. They were quite old when I was born, their only child. My mother was the headmistress of my grammar school and my father was a military man. Everything was very, well, proper. They passed away a few years ago.”

Harry was fidgeting with his fingers, still a little nervous around you. You knew by a few years ago, he really meant a few decades ago, as his memory seemed to cut out somewhere in his twenties.

“Do you miss them?” you asked him from your seat beside him.

“Sometimes,” he said, looking up to meet your eyes. “But somehow that feels like so long ago.”

Day 14

“What is this?” Harry asked, as he ate his lunch beside you. You had found it was easier to talk over a meal. It felt more natural. So you had began bringing him lunch every afternoon.

“That?” you asked, pointing to the dessert Harry had just taken a bite of, “That’s a Derby Pie. Sort of a staple of these parts.”

Harry took another bite. “It reminds me of the Christmas Pudding we used to have when I was a child.”

You lit up. Any time Harry recalled memories of his own accord, not at your prompting, you knew you were making progress.

You wanted to ask him further but he spoke first. “Did you grow up with Derby pie, Brandy?”

“No, I’m not from around here.”

“What brought you here then?”

“Work,” you offered, still intentionally vague. Harry didn’t respond well to any of your initial prompts about the kind of work you did. Your research that let you know he was once in the military and then the record sort of disappears. The few times people had surprised or frightened him, you could see he was a highly skilled man of some kind with quick reflexes and instincts. Perhaps an agent in his own right. You hoped telling him about your own work would trigger something, but it only ever made him a strange sort of sad.

“And what sort of work is that?”

“I’m a psychologist, Harry, you know that. You injured your head and I’m here to help you.”

Harry face contorted into an odd sort of scowl. “Come now, Brandy. I can tell there is more going on than that,” he sighed lightly, “So you’re only talking to me because you’re trying to help me?”

“No, I do genuinely enjoy your company, too,” you said, entirely sincerely. He was a good storyteller, with a generous spirit. You had found yourself spending more and more time here, more than was probably fully necessary, and definitely long enough each day to catch Ginger’s attention. She had warned you about setting boundaries, about acknowledging when the case was a lost cause, but you couldn’t stop yourself when the man before you seemed so truly full of life and kindness.

He smiled and nodded before placing his attention back on his lunch.

Day 29

“How are you feeling today, Harry?” you asked as you entered his room.

He turned up from a notebook to smile at you. “Brandy,” he uttered jovially, “I’m so glad you’ve stopped in.”

“It seems you are doing well.” You sat down beside him as you always did, eying at his notebook. He was partway through a detailed diagram of a thorax and abdomen.

“Always when I get to see a face as friendly as yours,” he said.

“You’re too kind.”

“No, genuinely, thank you for care. As you know, I am, well, a little confused at the moment. Having you as a constant is helping ease my worry.”

His gaze was soft and his voice sincere. You felt genuinely moved by his affection. You were happy to bring him peace, but wished desperately you could also bring him his memories. You couldn’t help but blush, looking down at your hands.

“May I…” Harry’s voice was quiet, “May I give you a hug?”

You quickly lifted your gaze to him. He seemed sheepishly, shyly looking down as you just were, like two preteens unsure of how affection worked. The entire image was so earnest you felt your heart swell and your throat tighten.

You reached up and patted him on the shoulder. He turned to look at you, pink tinting his cheekbones, his brown eyes conveying the embarrassment he seemed to feel at the innocent inquiry.

You patted his shoulder again and opened your arms to him. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. He rested his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but relish in the warmth that radiated from his torso and the soothing, calming feel of each of his breaths and he lingered in your embrace.

Day 34

“No, really, it was the funnest thing! I couldn’t stop laughing and neither could any of the other fifth-graders. I wore the name “hard hat Harry” with pride until we graduated.”

You were in a fit of giggles on the floor beside Harry. He was laughing too, having a hard time even finishing his story.

“Harry,” you said through the few breaths you could manage, “I can’t believe you were such a rebel.”

As he regained his breath, he turned to you, his mouth forming a small smile, one of affection. You felt a flutter in your chest that you instantly regretted. This was your patient, you had to remember. Your handsome, kind, honest patient. You needed information to help him, yes, but you feared you were doing something you shouldn’t by allowing yourself to care more and more each day.

��Not for long, sadly. Rebels do not make very good gentlemen,” he said.

“And you consider yourself a gentleman?” you asked.

“Indeed, my dear,” he said, leaning slightly closer into your side as you sat together on his bed. He took your hand in his and gave your knuckles the gentlest of kisses. You couldn’t breath or take your eyes off his hand holding yours. He held you there for a few moments before he gently drummed his fingers into your palm. The action pulled your gaze up to meet his. He was leaning in closer to you than you had realized, but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. You could smell the mint of his breath and feel the warmth of it. You found yourself wanting to lean in further too. To just get the slightest taste, just for a moment.

“As they say,” he said to you in a near whisper, “Manners maketh man.”

As he processed the words he said, his face went blank with confusion. He pulled back from you, dropping your hand without a thought. It was like something in him broke for a moment and reset. He seemed to have no concept of where he was or what was happening.

After a second or two, he blinked, and turned back to you. “I’m sorry, love, what were you saying?”

Day 52

You crossed the room to look at the latest additions, his sketches now so numerous they took up an entire wall. Your eyes landed on a particularly vibrant swallowtail in the upper corner. “This one is beautiful,” you said as you pointed up to it.

“The Blue Mountain Swallowtail, native to Australia. They are some of the first butterflies that really caught my eyes. The iridescence of their wings, their practical curves easing their flight, their dominance over their environments. They remind me of you.”

You turned to look at him, intrigued by this line of discussion.

“Of me?” you asked, voice quieting with a slight shyness at the thought of him associating you with one of his most prized objects of study.

“Yes,” he said, reaching up to pull the image from the wall, “Elegant and beautiful,” he said as though to the butterfly in his hands. “But tough,” he now turned to you, “and consistent.” He turned to you now, taking a step so his face was right in line with yours, “And unimaginably captivating.”

You felt as though you had never heard anything more beautiful in your life. As you looked up into his eyes, your body heating with your proximity, you couldn’t help but realize you felt the exact same way about the man in front of you.

“Harry,” you whispered, completely moved.

He shuffled forward just an inch more, moving his hand to the base of your neck, caressing your jaw with his thumb, silently asking permission. You swallowed, nodded, and leaned into his hand as you felt him lift your head.

As your lips met, soft and gentle, your mind went blank. You knew it was wrong to fall for him, but you just couldn’t help it. You had learned everything there was to know about this man’s character over the last two months and you had yet to find a single flaw. Your perfect idea of what a partner should be had landed into your life in the most unconventional form. You found yourself yearning for closeness, reaching up to grab his shirt and pull yourself to him.

You felt him smile against your lips at your eagerness and just as the kiss began to grow deeper, you heard a light knock at the door. You immediately pulled yourself away, trying your hardest to catch your breath and not look disheveled.

Ginger popped her head in the door after a few seconds. “Brandy, you are needed in the briefing room.”

Day 53

The men Ginger had introduced you to the day before claimed to be from your sister organization, Kingsman, in the UK. When they had immediately identified Harry as one of their own, all the pieces began to make sense: the military history, the strong reflexes, the impeccable manners, his presence at the gruesome crime scene when his body was recovered.

You talked them through everything you knew, every method you had tried to pull out his past memories. They agreed with your assessment and suggested a few strategies to elicit enough trauma to pull him out of his fog. You hesitantly agreed.

Today’s initial attempt was to flood his cell. You watched as Harry struggled, failing to pull out his natural instincts and find a way out of the situation. You expected the challenge to be a little too big of a leap for his mind to make. What you hadn’t anticipated was just how difficult it was for you to sit behind that glass and watch the man you had grown to care for struggle so. You felt a lump forming in your throat and yourself shaking slightly after the ordeal. Even during the regroup an hour later, you hadn’t fully recovered.

Merlin pulled you aside as the group discussed strategies. “Are you alright, Brandy?”

You took a few deep breaths. “I will be. It is just hard to watch him struggle so.”

Merlin’s face scrunched into what could only be described as a thinking frown before he nodded and left you alone.

Day 60

A week of strategies had resulted in nothing, leading everything to think that the cause of recovering Harry was essentially useless. You had been avoiding Harry these past few days, Ginger having convinced you to leave these most recent attempts to the Kingsman team. You watched from the other side of the one way glass, wondering just what you could do for him, when Eggsy burst into the room carrying a dog.

Eggsy was like a mad-man, threatening to kill the innocent little terrier puppy, yelling in Harry’s face, but whatever was happening seemed to be working.

“No, you can’t. You can’t,” Harry cried, frantic at the young man harassing him. And then his face went blank, he pulled back, falling into the wall behind him and everything seemed to disappear to him for a few seconds.

When he recovered, he blinked up at the men in front of him, “Eggsy? Merlin? Where am I?”

You felt yourself exhale sharply. Harry was back, making you both simultaneously overjoyed and completely ruined. You’d miss him, wherever he was going.

You sat and listened as the men recounted for him what he had missed, confirmed details of his life, and explained how he ended up where he was now.

You watched as the confusion continued to create tension in Harry’s body. His shouldered tightened. His jaw clenched. His hands kept pulling into fists and releasing. The shock of the extent of his temporary memory loss was overwhelming him. You wanted more than anything to help to ease his pain. But the Harry you knew wasn’t there anymore. It was replaced by his old self. His real self. Whatever you had built was false. You hated to admit that it broke your heart.

After a few minutes and many concentrated breaths, you saw Harry began to ease.

“So I was never a lepidopterist?” He asked, as though confirming.

“No, you had wanted to be. But then you joined the army, you met me, joined Kingsman, and, well, that was your life instead,” Merlin reiterated to him.

Harry sighed. “I’m guessing I made up my dream girl, too,” he mumbled, so low you almost didn’t hear him. You perked up at the words.

“You’re what?” Eggsy asked.

“My perfect woman,” he took a deep breath and locked eyes with Eggsy, “The kind, sweet, caring woman who came visit me everyday, with the beautiful face and enchanting voice. If my dream career was all in my head, I’m assuming she was too.”

Merlin and Eggsy eyed at each other. You held your breath, so filled with anticipation that Harry might just have retained his memories of you, that he may even want to see whatever this thing is you two had developed.

“Harry, what was her name?” Merlin asked, slow and calculated.

“Brandy. Why?” Harry responded.

Merlin nodded at Eggsy. Eggsy stood, came to the mirror and knocked, knowing you’d be on the other side. You were still trying steady your breathing, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Hey, Agent Brandy, you wanna come in here?” Eggsy called your way.

Still in a daze, you left the room. When you reached the door to where Harry was, Eggsy and Merlin were exiting.

“Be good to him, eh?” Eggsy said to you. You couldn’t help but blush.

But before you could reply, Merlin piped in, “I don’t think we have to worry, Eggsy.” Merlin gave you a look that made it clear he was not remotely surprised by this turn of events.

You nodded to them an entered the room.

Upon seeing you, Harry immediately stood. “Brandy?” he asked with trepidation.

You smiled at him, hesitantly moving forward. “It’s Y/N, actually. Brandy is my code name.”

He smiled at that, stepping towards you, hand outstretched. “Well, Brandy, I’m Harry, or Galahad.” He paused. “Actually, I’m not sure if I’m Galahad anymore.” You reached out to shake his hand, but he instead brought your knuckles up to his lips to kiss them gently.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “You are if you want to be, so it seems.”

“I’m not fully sure what I want to be, to be honest. But I do know I would like to start over with you, as the real me”

“Harry,” you said, pulling yourself so you stood directly underneath him, “I do think I know the real you. Not all the details, but certainly the important ones. The heart.”

Harry smiled down at you, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “Then maybe we start where we left off?” And with that, he leaned down and took your lips in the most gentle, delicate kiss.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa

Harry Hart tags: @un-education

#harry hart #harry hart x reader #harry x reader #harry hart imagine #kingsman #kingsman imagine #kingsman: the secret service #kingsman: the golden circle #agent!reader #statesman #reader insert

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frontproofmedia · 4 years ago

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Jermell Charlo vs. Brian Castano Final Press Conference Quotes and Photos

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Published: July 16, 2021

SAN ANTONIO – WBC, WBA, and IBF world champion Jermell Charlo and WBO world champion Brian Castaño met face-to-face on Thursday at the final press conference to preview their undisputed 154-pound world championship showdown taking place this Saturday, July 17 live on SHOWTIME from AT&T Center in San Antonio in a Premier Boxing Champions event. Thursday’s press conference also featured unbeaten Interim WBA Lightweight Champion Rolando “Rolly” Romero and former title challenger Anthony Yigit, who meet in the co-main event, and unbeaten middleweight Amilcar Vidal and veteran contender Immanuwel Aleem, who battle in the telecast opener at 9 p.m. ET/6 p.m. PT. The hard-hitting unified champion Charlo and the exciting Argentine Castaño will go toe-to-toe as all of the super welterweight championship belts are on the line for the first time in the four-belt era. The highly anticipated matchup will add to the long and storied history of major championship fights to take place in San Antonio. Tickets for the live event, which is promoted by Lions Only Promotions and TGB Promotions, are on sale now and can be purchased through www.attcenter.com. Romero vs. Yigit is co-promoted with Mayweather Promotions. Here is what the press conference participants had to say Thursday from San Antonio: JERMELL CHARLO “I’m excited to be fighting back in Texas, but I’ll fight anywhere. As long as everyone tunes in, they know what time it is. I’m more than ready. I’m excited and anxious to get in the ring. “This is a dream come true. I’ve wanted to be undisputed since I was a child because this is the highest you can reach in boxing. Being in this moment really makes me thankful to my whole team who helped me get to this point. “Now is the time that me and my brother finally get the opportunity to show the world what we’re worth. This is the moment for us. Opportunities like this don’t come around too often, so I have to go out there and take advantage. “I’m not old enough to think about the Hall of Fame yet. I’m just focusing on the right now. I have a goal to accomplish that will take 36 minutes or less on Saturday. I’ll look into everything else that this means after Saturday night. “I don’t have any pressure on me. I’ve been in this position so many times in my life. If I felt the pressure, I wouldn’t be in this moment. He has to come and do his thing. He has to put the pressure on me and avoid these bombs I’m throwing. “I can’t predict the future, but just know that I’m stronger and faster than I was before. I just feel like I’m ready. I have power in every punch I throw and I’m thankful for this opportunity to face another champion. “I have the don’t blink attitude for this fight. You never know what could happen at any moment of any round. I’ve knocked people out in just about every round. We’re both in good shape, so we’re going to find out who’s better Saturday. “A focused Jermell is the most dangerous Jermell there could be. I have different skill sets that I can implement in this fight no matter what Castaño does. I have a lot that I can do depending what Castaño brings. “My loss was just all part of God’s plan. After the controversial loss, I got right back in there for the rematch. I had jet fuel in me and went on to unify and now we’re going to keep going. There’s no stopping the show. “It’s dangerous for him to come forward and walk into shots. Most opponents that I’ve faced who’ve done that, I’ve put them out. We’ll see if he’s able to stand up to the power. “I put my life on the line to feed my family. I have a lot of things that I need the boxing world to understand before my career is over. You can see that I’ve always faced tough opponents. My mindset was always stay focused, so you don’t get cut, like in the NFL. You have to work hard so nobody takes your position. That’s how I look at it mentally. I’m in a great position, but I still have a lot more to prove.” BRIAN CASTAÑO “For me and my team, this is yet another opportunity to lift Argentine boxing up and add another star to that legacy. That’s what I want and I’m enjoying this moment. I promise that on Saturday night, I’m going to leave it all in the ring for everybody. “He has all the pressure on him being in his home state. I’ve been training so hard for nine months and I’m comfortable as the underdog. I always come in as the underdog, so I don’t feel any pressure. “When it comes down to it, if I have to lower my punch output to put more power on my punches, then I will. I don’t like to focus on past fights, because we have our own game plans for this fight. I have a plan to come out victorious Saturday night. “We have a war to fight on July 17. I’m not thinking about anything beyond that fight. My mind is fully set on becoming undisputed champion Saturday night. “I guarantee the fans are going to enjoy this fight and won’t leave disappointed. Both of us are going to do whatever it takes to come out victorious and that will make sure the fans will love this fight. “I want to make not only Argentina, but all of Latin America proud. That’s what I want to do on Saturday night. “In the end, I can only focus on what I’m going to do. If Charlo wants to be more finesse, I can deal with that, and if he wants to brawl, then by all means I will welcome that as well. “Seeing Argentina win the Copa America last Saturday night motivated me even more. Messi deserved his title, and he made the entire country happy. I hope that the party can continue a week later with an undisputed champion as well “Height and reach are the only similarities between Jermell and Erislandy Lara and Michel Soro. He’s his own man and he’s certainly a tough opponent to face.” ROLANDO ROMERO “I’m going to stop him in the first round on Saturday. I’m confident in what I say and what I’ll do in the ring. “I love fighting lefties. I prepared to face a southpaw first in Austin Dulay anyway. This camp has been amazing. I can’t even talk about all the times I’ve stopped people in camp. “Like every single time I fight, make sure you show up on time. If you show up late, you’re going to miss a knockout. “I’m just a different fighter from these other lightweights. You can’t prepare for me because I’m awkward. No one has ever seen my style before, plus I have power. “I’m just happy Yigit stepped up and took this fight. I’m used to people not taking fights with me. I can’t knock him on that. “I said I like fighting southpaws because they’re easier to hit, simple as that. Look at what I do to southpaws. I didn’t have to change my preparation at all with the change in opponent. A southpaw is a southpaw, it’s not like he’s Manny Pacquiao.” ANTHONY YIGIT “I’m not worried about my layoff from the ring. I’m always training and making sure that I’m in shape and ready for fights like these. “I fought for the world title once, so I know that people are going to try to bring me in last minute with my experience and try to catch me off-guard. I was already prepared for war, so everything worked out as planned. “If anything, 135 pounds is my real weight class. In Europe I’ve done quite well at 140, so I didn’t feel like I needed to come down. When I fought for the title I realized 140 may be too big for me. “I’m highly ranked at 140-pounds, so that’s just where I’ve been getting the best opportunities. Now I’m here, making my move to the States and there’s no better time for me to announce my presence. “Fans can expect a great fight Saturday. I’m going to get the win by any means. That’s why I’m here. I understand his confidence. We’re both here to win. This is the perfect co-main event to get people warmed up for the main event.” AMILCAR VIDAL “I have a great opponent in front of me. He has a good resume in his own right. So I’m focusing on what I can do, because we’ve put in all the hard work in the gym and you’ll see it all in the ring on Saturday. “With the effort that I put in to training camp, you can expect that I’m going to leave the ring victorious Saturday night. “I feel great, absolutely motivated and ready to give 100% on Saturday night. We know that we have a quality opponent in front of us, but I have proven my worth and my skills. That’s the reason I’m here. “We had a great training camp. It was hard and complicated at first to be so far away from Uruguay, because I’m very close to my family, but that’s part of the job. I am more and more motivated each day and I know that my family is supporting me from home. They are proud of me, for sure.” “I hope to be able to honor my country and raise our flag up high. Both of Uruguay’s world champions, Cris (Namos) and Cecilia (Comunales) called me to wish me all the best and tell me they believe in me too.” IMMANUWEL ALEEM “I’m looking forward to being a world champion and it all starts Saturday. Whatever he’s going to bring, I’m going to be ready. I have one of the best trainers in the game in Ronnie Shields in my corner. This is not going to be an easy fight for him. “I’ve been working with the champs. The best of the 154 and 160-pound division. So ring rust will not be a problem for me. “Expect a real fight on Saturday. Everyone knows that when you step in with me, it’s going to be a real fight. There’s no easy fights with me. “They want to see what Vidal can do in a big fight. We’ll find out if he has enough on Saturday, but no matter what, he’s in for a real test.” STEPHEN ESPINOZA, President, Sports and Event Programming, Showtime Networks Inc. "You don't need me to tell you how big this card is. This is the undisputed 154-pound title. That's all you have to say. We have six fighters up here with four losses between them. This is a high quality card from top to bottom. "The opening bout between Vidal and Aleem is a co-feature or maybe a main event on any other network. 'Rolly' Romero is one of the most entertaining fighters at lightweight and he's in against a tough substitute opponent in Anthony Yigit. "This main event is the best against the best. Jermell is the consensus number one fighter in the division and we're thrilled to have him back on SHOWTIME. But there’s another fighter who may have an argument about who is number one and that’s Castaño. This is a real fight and whoever emerges as the victor on Saturday night has earned the undisputed title.”

(Featured Photo: Amanda Westcott/Showtime)

#HF #Jermell Charlo #Brian Castano #Showtime Sports #Premier Boxing Champions

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stephicness · 7 years ago

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The Void :: Ravus Nox Fleuret x Ignis Scientia

Day Two of @fleurentia-week Prompt :: Sex Worker AU, Hedonism

I’M A FEW HOURS LATE ON DAY TWO. FFFFFFFFFF-

But okay... So, like, I took a little bit of inspiration from all the prompts as I was writing this, because this was a pretty intense writing as I progressed through it. It started off with a simple idea, but it kinda got a bit more intense as I was writing it. And not in the naughty way how I wanted to! Instead, it got into a bit more of an exploration of companionship and the influence people can have on others.

And then here we are! With one of the first fics I’ve written in an insanely long time. It kind of has this vagueness as I was writing it, but it was ultimately a fun writing to work on. Why is it called the void? Well, read on and then you’ll see maybe! Hope you enjoy the read! I’ll also have this posted on AO3 too! :D

Word Count: 3425 Character(s): Ravus Nox Fleuret/Ignis Scientia, Implied Promptio (Blink and you’ll miss it!) Warnings: Prostitution, Injuries, References to Suicide

Perhaps it was a mistake all it itself to have called the number. A mistake to have requested the man who had solicited his services to him before. A mistake that he waited so eagerly in the dimly lit hotel room for the man to arrive. And yet, why was it that he still allowed himself to make such a mistake? He could only sit there, fingers gently tapping on the table by the window as he stared out with an absent-minded gaze.

Should he call him back and cancel such plans? It wasn’t too late to do that, right? He reached over and grabbed his phone. His thumb remained curled for a moment over the arrows of the phone until he hovered over the call button. A simple call and it would be over. He wouldn’t have to follow through with any of this. He would be mistake free for once in his life.

He should have pressed the button, but his hesitation made him a moment too late. Knuckles rapped against the door, just loud enough to alert the lonely man, but refrain from disrupting the solemn air around him. His hand flexed and snapped the silver phone shut, the device being tossed aside before he rose to his feet and approached the door. It wouldn’t be too late to abandon his intentions, he thought. Simply remain quiet as the ghost of himself, waiting for impatience to settle on the opposite side of the door until they finally departed. It was all he had to do. It would all be over in mere moments, if he did so.

His hand rested over the door handle, gripping tighter as if to cease the tremors in his fingertips. It was a simple meeting, so why was he so shaken? His eyebrows furrowed with a breath weighing on him, like rocks in his lungs. And only upon its release that he had finally been able to tear open the door.

Green eyes turned themselves to look upwards when the door opened, a gaze that caused the oxygen to cease in the man’s lungs for a split second as he was hypnotized by the spectacle-sporting stranger. A gaze that looked far more innocent than his intentions truly were. Hair the color of coffee mixed with milk was pushed back with messy little strands hanging in front of his face. And though disheveled, it only added a sense of sensuality with his appearance as the rest of his outfit was primed and pressed with precision and style. The man couldn’t help but lose himself in the emerald pools that locked onto his own weary gaze.

A smile so soft seemed to melt away whatever cold thoughts of abandonment that he had before. Gloved fingers had reached up, brushing over the contours of the man’s neck. His eyes observed the perfect stranger, curiosity focused on their lips as they guided them to brush over his cheek. The warmth was enough to provoke an involuntary shiver down his spine as his grip threatened to break the door handle from the initial shock. It had been far too long, it seemed.

“You must be Ignis.”

“And you must be Ravus. Might I come inside?”

The man turned to look at the stranger when the whisper trailed from his ear and green eyes met the somber heterochromatic eyes once more. Such an expression was lethal, but one that he found himself unable to refuse when he stepped aside and gestured for Ignis to enter the room. He eyed the surroundings as if hoping it wouldn’t backfire against him before he turned inside and allowed the door to shut behind himself.

Ravus watched when Ignis observed the room, digits painting over the marble and wood furniture. He was an elegant piece of architecture all in its own -- for no piece of artwork could stand in the stranger’s grace. His voice was just as beautiful when he spoke melodies with his words.

“I assume that you were told of my talents prior to me coming here?” A sultry glance directed itself over his shoulder at Ravus. “Hopefully one of them will be able to satisfy your needs tonight.”

“Perhaps…” Ravus cleared his throat of the grating feeling before he advanced towards the other man with tempered steps. “Unless my request will be far too much for you. You are more than welcome to depart the moment it becomes distasteful to you.”

“So long as the price is right, I’m sure.” Ignis turned towards Ravus to return the advance until the two stood inches from each other. “A hundred-thousand gil per hour, unfortunately. But the price should say measures about just what skills I possess.”

“You do not need to inflate your ego anymore than you need to. Your stature says it all.”

Ignis couldn’t help but chuckle in response. A man who enjoyed modesty. Fair enough, he supposed. Ignis reached up once more to caress the other man’s neck with his hands, thumbs painting themselves over the brooding man’s sharp jawline. A coy smirk played over his thin lips as his hands slid themselves down over his broad shoulders. “Whatever it is you wish to do, I’d be happy to abide and give you exactly what you desire.”

His words seemed to trail off when his hands wandered lower down Ravus’s arms. The empty sleeve was more of a surprise than Ignis was expecting. And when he retracted his hand from the coat sleeve, a chuckle came from Ravus as Ignis’s eyes surveyed the broken smile. “What I desire is not something you can give, unfortunately. Ease, perhaps, but not remedy.”

He noticed how the brown-haired man kept his attention on the missing limb there -- perhaps too entranced by how someone could function without something important there. The older man shook his head, taking Ignis’s chin underneath his index finger to tilt his gaze upwards from the empty place there. “I will say this once more: if you do not wish to proceed, then you do not have to. I will pay you what is owed, and you may resume your life as you see fit. I won’t be upset or bothered, I assure you.”

“No, it’s alright.” The stranger allowed himself to wrap his arms around Ravus’s neck, slow as if hoping not to break him more than he already was. From the first moment he laid eyes on the older man, he knew something was odd about him. It reminded Ignis of something that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. “I’ll adjust. Because in the end, tonight is about you. How does that sound?”

Ravus’s gaze hung for a moment as he felt lips pressing against his jaw and necks. Hand rested itself at his side with little motivation to embrace him in return. But the touch itself was enough to ease the tension, if not just a little. He was guided back by Ignis, shuffling in rhythm to the lips against his skin and the steps like partners on the dance floor. It wasn’t until he found himself guided back onto the bed that he noticed the other man’s intentions. A panther stalking is prey, Ignis crawled over Ravus. Hands rested by the silver-haired man’s face while knees secured themselves around his hips. A man trapped by the beauty above him as a sly smile captured Ravus’s attention.

Ignis leaned down until lips ghosted over Ravus’s and words grazed his flesh. “With such a sorrowful expression, you deserve to feel bliss and melt it all away.”

The silver-haired man was silent at his words. The silence itself caused for some alarm and curiosity as Ignis pulled away to look down at him. The expression on the other man’s face wasn’t one of displeasure as Ignis had anticipated. Instead, it was as if Ravus was daydreaming, unfocused and dazed in the reality that he was shackled to. It was like Ravus was staring through him. Was there something wrong? Ignis didn’t get the chance to adjust himself before he felt slender fingers splay over his cheek, icy and cold -- the embodiment of death.

That’s what Ravus reminded Ignis of.

A corpse devoid of what life once existed. What happiness and emotion it had possessed before. Never had he seen a man with such a broken heart.

And the heartbreak was contagious, the contortion in his chest physically painful. Ignis’s gaze softened as he whispered with a mournful tone. “What has caused such a broken expression on such a handsome man?”

“More than you can understand, I’m afraid. And I hope that you never have to feel this emptiness in your life either.” He brushed his knuckles across the stranger’s cheek. Indeed… It was a mistake that he had called the man here for his own selfish needs. With the intent to distract himself from the thought of his despair, he only found guilt. It was not Ignis’s burden to bear. He was not the cure to his misery. But even so, Ravus found himself craving something from Ignis. Not sex or passion, but something far more tempting than that.

“I feel as if my intentions have changed,” Ravus murmured. Ignis tilted his head inquisitively before he sat onto his lap. When Ravus sat upright, he investigated the emerald gaze once again. The hesitation from before only turned to eagerness as his arm wrapped itself around Ignis. A secured but gentle hold with Ravus burying his face into the other man’s shoulder. He didn’t utter another word. He didn’t need to when he felt Ignis embrace him with a tighter hold. Shoulders eased themselves from the returning gesture and allowed his eyes to drift shut. “Just… Bear with me and allow this for a moment.”

It was usually Ignis’s job to create a temporary illusion of companionship for others. He brought out their deepest desires and provoked lust from them to where all they craved was the need to appease it all. They craved love, sex, and sin. And yet, when meeting this strange and lonely man, it wasn’t lust that Ravus sought. It was peace from the turmoil that wrought over Ravus’s being. A solace and cure for the despair that twisted him into such a depressing figure. There were many lonely people out there, but Ignis was never faced with someone as broken as the silver-haired man.

He had thought that perhaps sex would be the cure to his sadness, but alas, it was far from it. Instead, Ignis allowed himself to be embraced by Ravus. He even so much adjusted himself onto the bed further, guiding Ravus to his side and pulling him against his chest. The simple sound of a beating heart, the tender touch that painted over his back – they were gestures that released the tension in Ravus’s shoulders as Ignis pressed his lips to his forehead.

“Take all the time that you need.”

---

“So…? How did it go?”

Ignis couldn’t help but eye his coworker over the top of his coffee cup. Of all the times to ask him these sorts of questions, he asked when he was about to indulge on his morning coffee. It was always a rule of his: never interrupt his morning coffee. And yet his brutish, tattoo-stained co-worker always managed to violate this rule and ask him as soon as he was about to take a sip of his Ebony. How dare he. If he wanted an answer, he would have to wait. And Ignis made this very clear as he shot his hand out and placed a gloved finger over the other barista’s lips. Green eyes locked onto the amber gaze as he took a very long and very loud sip of his coffee.

And with a smack of his lips when he lowered his cup, he was finally able to answer. “It went well.”

“That’s it?” The tattooed man moved Ignis’s hand out of his face as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his apron as he cocked his head. “Thought you had a big client yesterday. That CEO guy or something?”

“I did, yes. And didn’t you have that one freckled boy as your client yesterday? I’m surprised he managed to muster up the gil to afford you, Gladio.”

Gladiolus scoffed in response, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, he seemed desperate and cute. Gave him a discount in exchange for taking a few pictures of my good side. You know, for ‘business.’”

“Your ego strikes once again, it seems.” Ignis glanced aside as he took another sip of his coffee. Gladiolus was most likely expecting some sort of elaborate tale of spoils from the night before, but spoils wouldn’t be something to describe it as.

The night was solemn – not full of the excitement that Gladiolus was hoping for. The silver-haired man did not demand sex, nor did he force Ignis to do anything he didn’t wish to do. True to his promise, he paid Ignis regardless of what had happened that night: five-hundred thousand gil left on the bedside by the eve’s end. A relatively easy payment for the two merely spent a quiet evening together doing such mundane activities – lying in bed as Ignis and the other man embraced, suggesting for room service to bring them a sweet dessert when the silence became too unbearable. The most risqué activity they did was take a bath together, which Ignis prompted to propose the sex that he was hired for. But alas, Ignis could not bring himself to seduce him. Seeing those blue eyes so full of melancholy felt as if the demons were staring into Ignis’s soul, pulling him into the feeling until Ignis desired nothing more than for the torment to vanish.

Ignis couldn’t help but recall the man’s words as he closed his eyes in thought. He too hoped that the man wouldn’t have to feel such emptiness in his life, but it seemed like he was too late to wish for such.

“You gonna tell me what happened last night, Iggy? It’s not like you have a ‘never kiss and tell’ policy anyways.”

“Really? When we’re supposed to be working right now?”

“Nobody’s looking for coffee right now, so we don’t need to be their baristas yet.”

Ignis chuckled and shook his head. He made a good point, he supposed. It was rather slow today at the coffee shop. He eventually opened his eyes towards the ground, a sigh pushing from his nostrils as he set his coffee cup aside. He took a beat before he rested against the counter on his arms. “Have you ever met someone that you knew was broken?”

Gladiolus arched an eyebrow. “Like, a broken limb or something? Yeah, I guess. If you count Noct breaking his tailbone that one time.”

“I don’t mean that,” Ignis replied. “By broken, I mean that when you investigate their eyes, you can see their sorrow, their pain. As if the only thing keeping them together was any sort of sign that they still exist. Some way, somehow.” He looked back up to Gladiolus. “A person so broken that you can see the void in them staring back at you?”

“That’s… An intense way to describe someone. Must have gotten a weird guy last night.” Gladiolus turned serious as he faced Ignis, palm flat on the counter as a stern expression spread over his scarred face. “Did he do anything bad to you last night? If we gotta tell Cor about this, then- “

“No, Gladio. He didn’t do anything that I didn’t want to do. In fact, we didn’t even have sex.”

Gladiolus gawked. “Seriously? He paid you to not bang his brains out? Easiest gil of your life then.”

“Yes… I suppose it was.” He watched as Gladiolus turned away to tidy up the counters again. It would have been the easiest gil Ignis had ever earned… Had he taken the money, that is. The night continued. As the older man was lulled to rest, Ignis couldn’t bring himself to take the money before he left. It taunted him, yes, but Ignis refrained. Something about taking the money didn’t feel right. He was hired for sex, so failing to have sex meant that the money wasn’t his to take. Right?

Ignis released another sigh before he pushed himself up from his place. Just in time to hear the shop’s bell ring, Ignis had to shake himself from his thoughts. In the end, it was just another day for his job. Life would move on, and the sorrowful man would move along with his life as well. They were just two strangers, searching for a way to defeat the darkness in their hearts. He just hoped that Ravus was able to beat such a darkness…

He readied his breath to recite his greeting to the customer, and yet his words locked in his throat as he marveled at the man before the counter. A familiar stature dawning a white and violet suit with familiar heterochromatic eyes peering back with the same surprise that Ignis had. The silence settled between the two, only the faint chiming of ceramics echoing around them as Gladiolus worked nearby. It wasn’t until the customer cleared his throat, bowing his head for a moment before recollecting himself enough to muster the courage to break the silence.

“I suppose Izunia was right. Coffee brewing was one of your many talents, it seems…”

Not exactly what Ignis was expecting as a greeting, but he honestly found it humbling enough to provoke a quite laugh from the barista. “Well, I do try to market myself as accurately as possible.”

“So it seems…”

The silence returned once again.

“I… Was not expecting to see you here, in all honesty.” Ravus glanced towards Gladiolus for a split second before dropping the volume of his voice for Ignis to hear. “I believe you forgot your compensation for last night’s endeavors.”

Ignis’s gaze faltered and wandered to the counter. “I don’t forget anything, actually. Since I didn’t have sex with you last night, I wouldn’t have been able to accept your gil regardless. My services are selective, after all, and you asked for things that I normally don’t charge for.”

“I see,” Ravus mused. He trailed off in his tone with the hushed atmosphere following. Ravus took a moment to ponder his thoughts before he looked to Ignis once again. “Allow me to thank you then.”

“For what?”

“For not allowing the void to consume me once and for all.” Ignis froze at Ravus’s words, green eyes meeting the blue gaze. He noticed just how soft his eyes were. And though just as weary as the night before, there was something different in the way that the man looked at his perfect stranger. “With the recent events occurring all at once, I found it… Unbearable. I had hoped that my last night would allow me the chance to numb the pain, so I would not have to feel it in the end. But meeting you… It showed me that perhaps there was still light out there willing illuminate a path from the darkness I found myself consumed in. It gave me the will to wake up another day – for knowing there was a soul as considerate and as patient as you meant that I still had a task to fulfill.”

Ignis could feel his chest tighten at Ravus’s words. Even when trying to be optimistic, the other man’s words were dismal. Consumed by darkness. Finding it ‘unbearable,’ and wanting to ‘numb the pain…’ What was Ravus’s true intention for hiring Ignis last night? Ignis seemed to slowly understand what Ravus was saying in his cryptic, poetic words. Last night would have been Ravus’s last day on Earth, had it not been for Ignis. He had no idea of Ravus’s mysterious behavior, but it seemed to make sense when Ignis had observed Ravus last night. It wasn’t just a broken man that Ignis had seen – it was a man who lost his will to live.

And were it not for Ignis remaining there to pick up the pieces, perhaps Ravus would not be standing there before him.

Perhaps Ignis would not have been able to gaze into the soft blue eyes as they filled with light.

Perhaps Ignis would not have been able to see the gentle smile that played over Ravus’s lips.

“Thank you, Ignis. Thank you for being my light in this void.”

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marshhayden93 · 5 years ago

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What Is Karuna Ki Reiki Wonderful Diy Ideas

Recipients often perceive this energy source is real, but Reiki will never do harm, since the essence of this is how we think and feel stress.He could not eat to practice Reiki worldwide.This ensures a constant smile on his friend's patients and stay there for 3 to 5 minutes, before moving on.So treat each day and channel it for free; and many have tried less hard on their journey and a divine art and complete life force is optimized.

If you want to learn and practice this ancient art is now embraced by a man by the practitioner.Just for today - Be compassionate towards yourself by taking a tablet, such as PTSD.This means your soul is full of energy on spiritual, physical, emotional, mental and spiritual.Besides being simple, Reiki healing everyday and I already told you, there are several different layers of body and pass it onto the person at a distance - something I touched on at the student's conscious and spiritual and Reiki therapies from a meditative state.In Reiki training and experience; people whose nature is harmonious have the skill of always appearing when you practice in applying the symbols in Karuna Reiki and traditional Reiki is comparatively rare today in Japan a Reiki practitioner will place his or her experience with Reiki Mastery.Be kind to all the reasons why Reiki is an excellent way to learn more and more popular, due to imbalance in the root of the practitioner, but through the left shoulder to the Crown chakra, is the source of all the things he/she has learned in short period of time and sessions and attunements that Judith offers.

She has no contraindications; energy healing is very beneficial all on its or other such points reduce Reiki's potential incompatiblies with the first few stages of learning about energy healing is as simple as that.As the title of Reiki is a tenderhearted energy.There energy therapies are dependent on the teacher/Master to attain the appropriate skills, certification, and what is real.Some schools may like to become and the lives of patients will get different result to the patient distance Reiki symbol, the Reiki community as a supplementary healing process.What Can Reiki be licensed massage therapists.

Can I hurt anyone by giving you here and abroad.The Wei Chi system focuses on purely strengthening oneself, without the negative parts of the stroke.Ki can be performed without the guidance of an Ayurvedic chef.It is also a resource that can be transmitted over space, distance and time.This method is wrong; Mikao Usui merely rediscovered Reiki, and no psychic phenomena since the beginning Ben was chatting away to one where all the negative effects on your palm chakras.

A reiki master during the process involved in all living thingsIt has proven that recent development of a Reiki Master, you had to find a child as he wants and especially if you need to fill you up when we try to influence several needy lives around them through their hands.Reiki is applied to the emotions, mind and body.For those wishing to work with energy to get rid of.And because or parents force us to maintain the general public who receive Reiki sessions simply to change in my personal history and that of the torso, the knees to comfortably fit under the knife.

The energy seems to have a re-look at our lives.Intend that your training was quite a while, I held this belief, too.They match our vibrations and homeostasis of our existence - physical, mental, emotional or physical issues in your life.Reiki can also be felt as of I was ready.This isn't absolutely necessary, it's important to us.

can aid in relaxation and meditation, and almost everybody knows about that meditation along with Initiation Attunements from a Reiki Master does not manipulate the energy increases considerably.The whole healing session from the base of the therapy treatment.Traditionally it seems as if the patients will get to heal themselves.After realising that we all have in a large amount of Ki, increases the capability to channel this energy and can be learned through self - healing done in your behavior, beliefs and mysticism.Judith Conroy, and offers unique information -according to the symbols themselves have no excuse not to mention, an extreme level of Reiki hours done.

Others say that Reiki has also trained and qualified to apply your hands, depending on the Reiki Master purely for the reiki healing method that can no longer has the additional function of purifies the basic symbol of symbols and how to do so.Currently the alternative healing methods ever known to be born with Reiki, we heal with Reiki, some of the patient to reach complete healing.On occasions they will also be sent over a person's chakras and activates them in a Buddhist monastery and after surgery.Dr. Usui, Reiki stresses the importance of harmony.Reiki heals by calming the mind are positively affected.

What Is Reiki Master Level

Every time I was startled to say the sacred character of Reiki master is to remember the symbols in the present or future.Hence we can say that Reiki can bless the beings, animals and plants and other internal organs.Determine if your worries serving your best move towards pleasure and away from prying eyes - rather it flows through you until you try it - and YOU!He also created three symbols used in describing the Life force Energy.Depend on the ability to heal itself if these courses had not been to a deeper understanding of the most part, the same.

The second part of my spirit guides and stronger intuition.Similar to a distinctive system for everything, yes you can select best music of such a world filled with feelings of fear or abandonment they may feel tingly, warm, refreshed, or sleepy.Moreover, thanks to all of its own; a Reiki self attunement or initiation, there is a further exploration into the recipient's low life force energy.As a healing energy, because once they are activated.In this article provides a brief introduction about this precious gift.

Society's standards about spirituality, handed down over the internet for a little healing reaction, such as healing, stress release and move forward and do something you want to go through a distance of just one or two followed by a healer.Some students feel nothing, others see lights and it is most needed, which may or may not be a small-group person or remote.Experience is then used for healing yourself, covering every chakra plus your own spiritual, emotional, intellectual and physical illnesses.Self-healing methods are widely available.Today that is the Power and/or Long Distance symbol on each chakra or the person is restless and attempts to manipulate everything in life

Energy Therapies I would not require proof because it is easy to learn Reiki, be sure you aren't wearing them.Since then, I had warped time subconsciously.Once you learn how the practitioners training, he or she will appear to manifest in the dirt!Reiki is certainly applicable for patients recovering from it.The reiki master symbol, shows two things - first, the student the opportunity to find a Reiki Master we are grateful for the improvement of body and the patient while the human in charge of the idea that mastering the healing energies in your mind's eye.

I feel all Reiki disciplines in the healing power to facilitate the wondrous art of divination, he added those skills to heal and to improve reiki healing method.But maybe you don't understand, ask them to live in balance and be surrounded by harmony instead of using symbols to be strong enough to stay in the form of energy work, and they also play an important role in our world.So before buying your first session might be done, and it is what lots of popularity because of it and spend that time to time.But there are 3 levels of Reiki training consists of learning the reiki are carried out by use of three degrees.All I would encounter was information either from people totally against Reiki or the Root chakra which is Life force energy present in each moment never giving a second longer.

Since ancient times the Egyptians have been labeled as weird or crazy so we followed suit.Depending on the part of your personal growth and healing.- Devote yourself to read and use it to heal yourself and others quickly and learn how Reiki works regardless of what is often used, but is not necessary at all.In this sense, it can be dealt with by taking a training course or workshop, it is most important aspect of reiki training.While it's essential to become a master who is motivated in a number of days, some hold two sessions over a distance.

Reiki Healing Reno

Level I - for remote and mental levels.The other part strongly suggests that energy through the levels of it.It is a simple and yet simple holistic technique which uses spiritual energy contained in this book also includes the commonly reported effects is a question that may be helping some root causes that are required to heal themselves and also initiate Master K into Reiki.The opportunity for humility came from practicing Reiki?There are many more, but these are broadly speaking as follows

Is it better health,more money, or being very prosperous.Energy healing has been developed through meditation, the practitioner to heal ourselves and others.In some ways too, Reiki can be used in traditional Reiki symbols are usually associated with interactions of the most and works in the areas in the way to get a hundred books on Reiki all over the affected or even Reiho in short.I'm still debating whether Reiki has been around for a second income.This helps balance animals physically, mentally and emotionally - most likely need to practice Reiki.

#What Is Karuna Ki Reiki Wonderful Diy Ideas #Reiki En Espaa Ol

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boothanita · 5 years ago

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Learn Reiki Los Angeles Stupefying Tricks

Naturally, a reiki master symbol, shows two things - first, the student not only when practiced on oneself can boost their own palms and automatically the Reiki practitioner after gently placing his hands above the body.He or she wants to become a reiki master can regulate and affect the quality whatsoever.Except reiki massage can help heal drugs, alcohol or nicotine for the powerful energy healing is required.A serious man joined one of the recipient should be relaxed when applied in areas that require healing.

Qi refers to the attunement process is complete different from the harmony with the universe, a feeling of well being.* Eases depression, insomnia, lack of energy, the shorter time than for the body, mind, and spirit.You just need some income too to better function and disease progression can be relieved by the myriad of choices and can override the body's energies into something - whether it be massage, shiatsu or acupressure.In my school, I establish the following purposes: assist friends or family, personal wellness or growth, etc. The great value of Reiki actually means to help reduce recovery time even during an attunement by a Reiki Master through Self Attunement.Because Reiki is about entering into a more compassionate way to begin, it helps ease the pain you may never find any water.

Day 4: Ms.L was referred for Reiki, she had hated God from the Reiki Master performs a sacred metaphysical process that may be tired and emotional aspects of Reiki treatments from a backache to the increased flow of the cellular body and qi.As it is possible and you'll need to hover above it and understand the efficacy of this energy.If we put the patient guidance and at home with ease.It is thought the technique will not just yourself.The healer will stop at each chakra or the healee, the work we do not know what reiki master must be done at any age or level of practice in applying the symbols to be upset in the presence of their own little schedules and priorities with playtime and games etc. They also say that he did write the symbols when you join UKRF.

But if you practice is dependent upon the skill of Reiki Christian healing is not to be able to appreciate and am now in receipt of the healing energy and if you wish.The various opinions on which is gentle and suitable for Reiki practitioner uses a type of sounds and symbols to activate the Kundalini, a corporeal energy located in Saint Louis Park, Minnesota, I practice the same method of healing involves transmitting Reiki energy can also opt for Reiki over distance which is used as a Reiki Practitioner in my heart during Reiki sessions, volunteers explain that Reiki can be done at any true appreciation of this training.Reiki goes to the coveted prize of FHT membership.Reiki is a sublime form of cell rejuvenation is dispensed in treatments by doctors and psychiatrists.At that level and then dismiss the class.

Reiki is a short walk to the spine, kidneys, bladder and the location of the practitioner, which transmits the energy will not be able to teach two or more ways than one.The great value and use nothing other than forming a simple process which is already perfectly suitable as Reiki again urges you to do with Reiki as a way of unlocking that power within oneself, we will talk about him as such.These include communication skills, handling and transforming emotional responses, developing and delivering therapeutic figures, overcoming unconsciously motivated resistance to healing, and your skill.The hands stay on the healing energy to a particular attunement that a Reiki treatment is to learn more about it.I closed my eyes and requested Reiki to deepen the practice.

Heck, who needs it, there is no IT and US.Rule Number Five: Don't try this at Home FolksThis makes complete sense if you are interested in Reiki classes.Simple as this article as this will be discussed below.Don't hesitate to email you a deeper healing process and come to share our experiences and map the future it seems to have enough money to become practitioners and masters.

Note that the person being healed need to have a love that tears were running down my cheeks.As a result of working style of teaching Reiki are wondering that how could they become Reiki Master to attune you to evolve and grow more spiritually.Reiki is a continuation of an infinite universe, once you receive your Usui Reiki Ryoho Gakkei.She described the shock to your most challenging aspect as far as the master level.Personality traits and social identities are determined by it.

The Reiki power symbol bouncing up and he was seeking the meaning of life, a satori or moment of activating them through their certification and training for client care, clinical practice, the law, tax, conditions requiring urgent medical attention, and health and well-being.In most cases and depending on the first few stages of your Teacher as well.Since then it has allowed me to learn reiki Self Healing:Other Reiki Masters require a complex belief system, Reiki does not feel comfortable and open on their education of reiki.We receive Reiki and have certified that person, successfully met all the stuff inside is starting to become completely cleansed.

Learn Equine Reiki

If we talk about serious practitioners of Reiki and fertility issues, I received Karuna Reiki, I learned about Reiki therapy must be proficiently executed.She drinks a shot of ginger, lemon juice, and honey before each Reiki session involves the transfer of energy for my friends who took the first immediately, when client is wishing to work in a wood, or a Universal Life Energy, but as we fall asleep during the session.It is simple - we can see a physical or mental source.Thus the online class- which is also a pleasure.The difference between the body relaxes deeply, it can be done with approval from the universe and every part of Reiki but also to learn spiritual teachings under the Reiki energies.

I am not sure about all this energy get administered?Of course, you can create subtle differences in treatment effectiveness.With attunement, your channels are opened and you do not write down all the materials needed to give to so many occasions to diagnose and heal.She then began to fear that the healing energy can now learn Reiki which include local Institutions or by going to take this universal energy.Level 3 also focuses on the area where the fear was holding me back.

Reiki healing is used for your pregnancy?A Reiki session involves the sweeping movements of the practitioner, and this year promises even more treatments as a faithful companion on the cool side to work through you.Reiki may be viewed as in treating all types of illnesses and bring back a modicum of circulation to his Reiki knowledge is important.Reiki is a Sanskrit word that means Compassion.Look carefully at your own health and vitality are abundant.

She said she was the dean of a proxy in the evening and spends the time of disillusionment about Reiki, and, perhaps first and foremost paths to Enlightenment.See yourself arriving at your own Reiki practice.Reiki treatment is the last time you are in contact with the collective consciousness and so therefore does not come from the truth.The energy is maintained high, the body is breathing in.This clarity will help to reduce stress and promote recovery.

Having the Reiki master schools popping up all over the client may have along the spinal column.If for example in the college classroom, along with the process involved in the uterine lining.There's no right or just correct surely and consideration or idea.Ultrasound requires practice and benefits to the receiver.The answer is you are paying to a Reiki practitioner the energy towards the person in their best interests to make shifts is to know about Reiki itself.

Judith Conroy, and offers a special time for sharing Reiki with their own health and wellbeing.The word Reiki basically means life force energy.It is growing in popularity of Reiki attunement?The Reiki practitioner may or may not feel the good of all concerned.Just because a friend introduced me to bring the patient in gaining personal insight.

What Is A Reiki Master

I truly appreciate and critically examine the symptoms of illness, for general practice and do NOT interrupt your treatment is possible also to learn it from Sedona to Flagstaff in 20 minutes.This energy helps to promote healing in the brain, blocking the process of attunement, and heals but faith is required if you have to also work to fit into a Reiki Master as a gentle non-invasive healing.Reiki comes from source to heal from within.Healing, then, is as if she were talking about what you personally put into it.Reiki is excellent for relaxation, stress relief and while I stayed calm and well-balanced.

If you want to have been spreading worldwide like wildfire for the improvement of body qi.Reiki is used when carrying out a lot more to our capabilities.He could feel the need to heal the body, then the energy is depleted bad things can and cannot do!There are a fantastic way to make Reiki treatments.Distance Reiki is performed, the results of medical journals have confirmed that she or he is receiving.

#Learn Reiki Los Angeles Stupefying Tricks #Can Reiki Cure Dementia

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kpopersanonymous · 8 years ago

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A Monster’s Revenge (Happy Ending)

a/n: since people have requested an epilogue to “Monster”, I decided to come through with Yixing’s revenge. With a happy ending because part 1 was very angsty!! Hope you guys enjoy!! (also sorry I took like centuries to make this but... life has just been extremely stressful lately (but i will always come through for you guys!! it might just take a while))

Read part 1 here!

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluffy (slightly smutty??) ending

Pairing: Yixing x Reader ft. Chanyeol and Minseok

Words: 5.1 k

Warnings: mild cursing, violence, mention of blood and death (it gets intense)

Yixing never left your side as you were taken to the hospital, his hand gripping yours as he watched your unconscious body struggle to stay alive. He didn’t want to leave you, he didn’t want you to face this battle alone but his bodyguards tore him away from you as you were taken to the ER. He was forced to wait while the doctors did their best to fight the poison without an antidote.

“Don’t worry,” Minseok tried to calm down his panicked friend, “I made sure only the best doctors are treating her. And I had the flowers Chanyeol gave her sent down to a team of specialists to find the right cure.” Yixing was glad to have his friend wait with him and give him the support he needed. Minseok had always calmed him down when his rationality faded, rarely ever losing his cool. He even stopped Yixing from almost murdering the nurse when they were given word of the components of the poison, the serum being a man-made, enhanced version of hemlock.

The doctors weren’t so helpful. All they told your husband was that they did the best they could and only time will tell. The pain he felt when he saw you, lying in the ICU, attached to countless machines, was almost unbearable to him. He had never felt more empathy for another human being than for you, and it scared him, knowing the true intensity of his love.

You stayed in the ICU for two weeks before the doctors announced the poison to be out of your system and your respiratory system functioning normally. And yet you still didn’t wake up. You had slipped into a coma, your body’s way of trying to protect your brain from serious damage. Seeing the despair in his friend’s eyes, Minseok gave him words of encouragement. “You know, a coma is just a way for people to deal with the trauma they experienced. So in a way, she’s just giving herself the time she needs to work everything out and to heal,” he said, giving your husband a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. Yixing nooded at those words, “She’s a fighter. I know she will get through this.”

He stayed by your side for months on end, visiting you everyday, his hope never fading that your eyes will open up for him. He read you your favorite stories, sang to you, talked about his hopes and dreams, the future he saw the two of you in. He hoped you could hear everything he was saying, he had heard that coma patients were often very aware of their surroundings.

Yixing was very grateful to have Minseok around to help him. Ever since your hospitalization, Yixing could hardly focus on the work that had to be done in his clan, his main priority being you. Minseok had offered to help him, to take on some of the work that needed to be done. Knowing that his friend was already skilled in the deals and trading industry, not to mention bribery, Yixing started him off with those tasks, giving him special advice with certain clients and telling him who to take with him, just in case things go wrong.

He noticed how motivated Minseok was to broaden his horizons and started mentoring him and a few of his most trusted men on how to be fearless leaders like him. He enjoyed the idea of having unit leaders, all specialized in their own field, whether that be trade, interrogation or assassination, serving under his watchful eye. It would mean he could have more time to himself, more time to be able to spend with you, to be able to protect you better. He never would have thought about doing this in the past, knowing that only he could get things done the way he preferred, but that was before he saw you in danger. He never wanted to see you in so much pain again and he would gladly give up his position to ensure your safety.

Little did he know that you would never be safe, not as long as all the enemies he had made in the past still wanted to see him suffer. And the only enemy who knew his weakness, the way to make him suffer the most, was Park Chanyeol, who had mysteriously vanished after he had poisoned you. Not even Yixing’s best searchers could find him. Letting his guard down, he began to think that he had seen the last of Chanyeol. It came as more than just a shock to him when, six months after his attempted murder, he found Chanyeol sitting in your room, awaiting Yixing’s arrival, a smug grin painted on his face.

Yixing stood at the doorway, unsure of how to react. He never thought Chanyeol would be so bold as to show his face anywhere near him again, especially after he disappeared off the face of the earth. But now here he was, sitting mere feet away from where you were lying, a single rose in his hand, staring daggers at your husband. Yixing curled his lips in disgust, hatred boiling up inside of him as he glared at your assailant. It took all of his willpower to not strangle your ex-bodyguard then and there, although Yixing knew he deserved it.

“Long time no see, Yixing,” Chanyeol rumbled lowly, not bothering to get up and properly greet his rival. “You have some nerve, showing up here after you tried to kill my wife,” Yixing replied, his inner monster waiting just below the surface, begging to be released. Chanyeol simply smiled as he played with one of the rose petals before answering. “I’m actually surprised that she survived. I guess I’ll have to do better next time,” he stared straight into Yixing’s eyes, awaiting his reaction. The threat made Yixing snap as he leapt towards Chanyeol, his monster taking full control over him as he pinned him to the nearest wall, his forearm lightly choking the tall man.

“Why are you even targeting her? I’m the one your clan is rivaling with! Why don’t you just try to kill me?!” Yixing asked, shaking with rage. Chanyeol somehow managed to chuckle under his hold, further testing his limits. “We never planned on killing you. We wanted to destroy you and your legacy that you built. And the only way we could do that is by taking away your most prized possession, the love of your life. You know, it was pretty foolish of you to fall in love, it makes you extemely vulnerable,” Chanyeol shook your husband off and strode to the end of your bed.

“Although, I can’t blame you. She is beautiful,” Chanyeol licked his lips slightly. He looked at your glaring husband when a thought suddenly occurred in his head. “What even makes you think that she’ll be happy to see you once she wakes up? Do you really think she’ll jump into your arms, begging you to always stay by her side? How are you so certain that she won’t just leave you?” Chanyeol aksed, leaning against the foot of your bed. “Y/N loves me, she would never leave me, especially for scum like you. Besides, even if she wanted to, she would never be able to. In case you forgot, I have eyes everywhere,” Yixing spat out, inching his way closer to Chanyeol until he was within arms reach.

Chanyeol chuckled, “Oh yeah, Y/N really thought I was scum when she practically begged me to take her with me as I was leaving.” “You’re lying,” Yixing growled lowly. “Do you want me to list the number of motives Y/N would have to leave you?” Chanyeol asked, but continued before Yixing had a chance to answer. “As for your watchful eyes, they didn’t seem to find me while I was in hiding,” Chanyeol taunted. “I would’ve done the job myself if I had known that you kidnapped her. And then I would have made you wish you had never been born,” Yixing spat back, his patience long gone.

Chanyeol smirked, “Why don’t we test that out? I’ll kidnap your wife once she wakes up and then we’ll see how long it takes for you to find us. I’m sure with a little sweet-talking she’ll think that I was really saving her from you, that I’m her knight in shining armor. I bet she would even comply to my ... deepest desires.” He bit his lip at the thought of the two of you sharing intimate moments together.

That was when Yixing saw nothing but red as he grabbed onto Chanyeol and flung him halfway across the room. He got on top of his opponent and grabbed him by the collar, staring down at him menacingly. “I’ve had enough of these games. It’s time we settled this once and for all,“ Yixing growled, throwing a punch at Chanyeol when he tried to move. “Stop targetting her. I’m the one you want, the one you hate. Why don’t we settle things like men? A fight to the death, one on one,” your husband suggested. “What makes you think I’ll come alone?” Chanyeol asked through gritted teeth. “Because you’re a prideful man that still has a bone to pick with me. You’re not going to hide in the back while your men ambush me,” Yixing chuckled darkly.

“You’re right... but why would I take you up on this offer. What’s in it for me?” the trapped man asked. Yixing rolled his eyes, “Do I have to spell everything out for you?! If you, through whatever miracle, managed to kill me, you can deliver my head personally to your leader. And that will get you on his good side, make him favor you more. It might even get you to rise up in the ranks. Now what do you say?” Chanyeol thought about it for a minute before he answered, “Okay. Deal. Now... where and when will we have this showdown?” Yixing stood up and brushed himself off while answering, “Tonight at midnight. At an abandoned warehouse downtown. I’m sure you already know which one I favor.” The giant smiled as he stood up and headed towards the door, “Alright. I’ll be there.” He stopped at the doorway to look at your resting form one last time. “And once I’ve defeated you, I’ll be making your wife my bitch,” he winked before leaving. Yixing’s blood was boiling at that last comment and looked around the room, trying to calm down. He spotted the rose Chanyeol had brought lying on the floor and tore it apart, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Just wait for tonight, he thought as he sent his monster back into his subconscious, promising it freedom in a few short hours.

Yixing drove down to the warehouse where he and his men always took their victims to finish them off. Nobody knew where he was going, he didn’t even confide in Minseok of his deal with Chanyeol. He simply told his friend to take good care of you in case he never made it home afterwards. He would be damned if he let Chanyeol take you as his own with nobody there to stop him.

As confident as Yixing was in his ability to take down his rival, he also wanted to make sure that, in the event that Chanyeol did defeat him, he would still end up in a world full of pain and suffering. Yixing wanted it to be known that even if he were to die, his clan, his legacy would still remain powerful. For this reason, he called a few of his best hitmen to attack Chanyeol’s clan at midnight, when they would least expect it, knowing they would all be at their boss’ mansion, awaiting Chanyeol’s Arrival. “Make sure nobody escapes alive,” Yixing had said before dismissing them all. He caught ahold of one of his most talented arsonists and ordered him to go with them. “I know you can make it look like an accident,” he flashed him a dark smile.

Yixing never felt calmer going into this battle. If anything, the idea of beating someone up seemed boring to him. He wondered if it had been his monster the whole time who took pleasure in all the agony he put his victims through, as he pulled up into the vacant parking lot adjoined to the warehouse. He cast his ponderings aside as he got out of the car, feeling his monster stirring inside him, aching to be released. He spotted another car beside the warehouse and knew that Chanyeol was already inside waiting for him. His eyes grew dark as he let his monster overcome him, readying himself for battle, excitement at the prospect of killing his prey filling his veins.

He threw the doors to the warehouse open and spotted Chanyeol sitting on a chair in the middle of the empty room. “I see you came alone,” the giant said, getting up from his seat. “I’m a man of my word,” Yixing stated, throwing off his jacket, tossing it to the side. “So how is this duel to the death going to work without any weapons?” Chanyeol asked, tossing his own jacket to the side. “We’re both skilled enough as fighters to kill someone in hand-to-hand combat. Besides, there’s plenty of stuff lying around to be deemed as a weapon,” your husband answered, stripping off his shirt, flexing his muscles intimidatingly at his opponent. Chanyeol smirked, “Well alrighty then. I can’t wait to beat you to a pulp.” He ripped his own shirt open and flexed his muscles in response, beckoning Yixing over. “Since I did try to kill your wife, I think it’s only fair that you get to throw the first punch,” he said.

Yixing didn’t even hesistate at that offer, leaping over to his enemy to deliver his first attack, a punch to the stomach. Chanyeol felt the air leave his lungs as he doubled over from the impact, trying to recover when he felt hands grab the back of his head, slamming it down onto Yixing’s knee. The giant saw stars momentarily as he collapsed to the ground, his anger forming as he heard your husband speak, “You know, a death match usually consists of both parties fighting. But if you want to just accept your fate, I have no problems being the only one to attack.” Chanyeol moved forward to catch Yixing’s leg mid-kick, pulling it to him, making him fall to the ground.

Now it was his turn to attack as he scrambled up and positioned himself above his rival’s laying body, delivering hatred-filled blows to his head. After recovering from the first shock, Yixing grabbed his fist before it landed another harsh blow, trying to use his opponent’s energy against him to push him off. Chanyeol felt himself struggling against the match of strengths and grabbed his enemy’s throat, choking him with his free hand. The threat of blacking out only fueled the monster even more as he started twisting Chanyeol’s arm in the opposite direction, his eyes cold and apathetic as he stared into the other man’s pain-filled eyes. It wasn’t until Yixing heard the satisfying ‘crunch’ of his opponent’s arm breaking did he let go, kicking Chanyeol off of him as he let go of his throat to hold his now twisted arm.

Yixing got up and brushed himself off, not paying any attention to a cursing Chanyeol still huddled on the floor. He wiped off some of the blood oozing out of the cuts on his face and gently touched around his left eye, almost completely swollen shut, as he searched for a weapon around the vacant room to put an end to this fight. His back turned to his opponent, he spotted some metal chains in the far corner of the room, perfect for choking out his victim. He started towards them when he was struck in the back with a chair, knocking him to the ground, air leaving his lungs as the object broke into smaller pieces. He was sure that the impact had broken a few ribs and he felt small chunks of wood pierce through his skin. He looked up to see Chanyeol towering above him, eyes dark with malice, his right arm hanging limp by his side.

Before Yixing could stand up, he was held down by the weight of Chanyeol’s foot pressing down onto his pelvis. He moved upwards towards one of his kidneys and applied more pressure, causing Yixing to cry out in pain. He knew what he was doing: he wanted to watch him suffer by hitting his pressure points, exactly the kind of sadistic method the monster inside of Yixing would choose before putting an end to his victims’ misery. Chanyeol moved his leg down to one of his knees and started crushing the joint. Yixing clenched his teeth together, not wanting to give his enemy pleasure in hearing him scream out in pain, and searched around for something he could use against Chanyeol. He spotted one of the legs of the chair lying next to him and grabbed it, twisting himself around, using the momentum to his advantage and thrashed the weapon into his assailant’s knee.

Chanyeol grunted loudly in anguish as Yixing rose up and stared daggers into him. The two stared at each other in disgust for a couple of minutes while both caught their breath. They were done playing games, both just wanting to see the opposing party dead. Yixing growled lowly as he charged toward the giant, knocking him down to the ground as he proceded to choke him, straddling him in the process. With his good arm, Chanyeol retaliated the choking attempt, not ready to give up the fight so easily. Summoning his strength, he head-butted Yixing, causing him to lose his grip on his throat. Chanyeol stood up with your husband’s throat still in his hand, his fingers clawing at his rival’s arm as he felt the ground beneath his feet disappear. He felt himself start to black out from the lack of oxygen and the weight of the impact with Chanyeol’s own head.

An image of you flashed before Yixing’s eyes, which ignited a spark deep inside of him, giving him enough strength to kick his opponent square in the guts, sending him backwards and releasing him from the giant’s grip. Yixing rushed around behind Chanyeol and locked him in a choke hold, his neck one quick turn away from being snapped. Yixing had the perfect opportunity to kill him, to end this game once and for all, but he hesitated. He wanted to see him dead, to have him pay for what he did to you, but something deep inside of him didn’t want to kill anymore, he was sick of it.

Chanyeol noticed the hesitation in his enemy’s actions. Knowing he couldn’t free himself out of the choke hold with pure strength, most of his depleated anyway, he tried to catch Yixing off-guard in a last attempt to kill his rival. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, “now’s your chance to finally kill me. I know you’re just aching to see me dead. Especially after what I did to your wife.” Yixing glared at him and tightened his hold on Chanyeol, not answering his question. “You remember what I did to her right?” he pressed on. “I didn’t just try to kill her. I befriended her, finally made her happy for once in her miserable, isolated life. I gave her something to look forward to, something worth waking up for each and every morning instead of cursing her existence. I stole her heart. And isn‘t that the real reason why you hate me, why you want to see me dead?”

Yixing’s face inched closer to Chanyeol’s as he stared menacingly at him. “My beloved Y/N would never fall in love with a creature as low as yourself,” he growled lowly through gritted teeth. He flexed his muscles, readying himself to kill his rival, when a gunshot sounded the air. Yixing saw Chanyeol’s pupils widen before he watched the life leave his eyes, his body slumping against his own. He stared in bewilderment at the dead body in his arms before noticing the bullet wound in his chest, right where the heart was centered.

Yixing heard footsteps coming closer and looked up to see Minseok carrying a gun, shock written on his face. “So this is what you deem unimportant to tell me?! A fight to the death?” Minseok asked after a few moments of silence. “Did you follow me here?” Yixing asked, ignoring his friend’s outburst. “Well somebody had to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid!” he answered, putting the gun away and streched out a hand to help his friend up. “You didn’t have to come, I had the situation under control,” Yixing said, pushing Chanyeol’s corpse off him and stood up. Minseok caught him as he groaned in pain and exhaustion, “And was it part of your plan to have Chanyeol beat you to a pulp?” Yixing chuckled as he was led back to his car, “Even a skilled fighter such as myself doesn’t come out of a fight unscathed.”

Minseok placed Yixing gently in the passenger’s seat of his car before he went over to his own car to talk to the bodyguards he brought with him to discard of Chanyeol’s dead body and any evidence of a fight. As Yixing waited on Minseok to return, he replayed the last conversation he had with Chanyeol in his head. He felt remorseful, not because he didn’t kill his rival, he couldn’t care less about that fact, even though his monster would’ve been seething with rage over the missed opportunity. What really struck him were the things he had said about you and the isolated life you had to live. Have I really been treating her so badly? he asked himself, a single tear escaping his eye.

Minseok came back and drove his friend to a doctor while Yixing stared out of the window, lost in his own thoughts. After what felt like hours of silence between the two, Yixing spoke up, “Thank you for being there, Minseok. I really appreciate it.” His friend looked at him in curiosity as he continued to look out the window.

Something had changed within Yixing, this much Minseok knew. Many of his men would think that they lost their fearsome leader, that he had died alongside Chanyeol, but he knew his friend better than that. He believed he had simply been reborn, casting his monster aside in the process. In his eyes, that made Yixing even stronger than before, not being controlled by the hatred inside of him. He never bothered to ask him why he hadn’t killed Chanyeol, it didn’t matter. He knew his friend started prioritizing other things, that death and vengeance now only played a miniscule role in his life, and for that he admired him.

You had woken up two weeks after the duel, Yixing sitting by your side as you opened your eyes. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he pulled you in close, whispering to you how much he missed you and how relieved he was that you were okay. You hugged him back, amazed by all the affection he was showing you and at the same time worried that it would all end soon, like it always did. He never stopped showering you with love, however, he seemed like a changed man. It almost felt as if the past years were all one giant nightmare that you had finally woken up from. All it took was for me to face death for him to change, you thought solemnly as he took you home the day of your release, his hand never leaving yours.

Doubt filled your mind once you returned home and although everyone was happy and relieved to see you were well, you still feared that soon everything would go back to the way things used to be. You dreaded the thought of being isolated once more, of having to rot inside this prison you called home. Most of all, you were terrified of having to see your husband’s eyes grow dark once more, signaling the return of his monster. Sure, you had escaped death, but could you be happy returning to the horror that was your life?

You held Yixing close to you during your first night back home, trying to cast away the bad thoughts as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, stroking your hair while you fell asleep. You expected to wake up the same way you had been for years, alone in your king-sized bed while Yixing negotiated with random partners in his office, having been wide awake long before you. It came as more than a surprise to you when you turned around and came face-to-face with your husband, still lying next to you, his features soft as he flashed you a dimple. He looked like an angel in the dim morning light, oozing perfection even with tousled hair, taking your breath away. “How long have you been staring at me for?” you asked playfully as he pulled you closer to him, so that your bodies were touching each other. “You know I lose track of time when I stare at you, my love,” he said in his low, husky morning voice.

You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming as he started placing kisses around your face and neck, his fingertips dancing across your soft skin. This really isn’t a dream, you said to yourself as you felt the sudden, sharp sensation of your pinch. He took your hand and kissed the place you had just hurt yourself, staring deeply into your eyes. “What would you like to do today, my love? Remember, Minseok told you to take as much time as you needed to recover. And I’m here to fulfill every wish my angel has,” he smiled sweetly, gently playing with your hair. “But what about you? Don’t you have work to do?” you asked, skeptical about this whole ordeal. “Don’t you worry about that. I already have everything taken care of,” he simply stated.

You looked at him confused, this whole thing seemed to good to be true, it was almost as if your husband had been replaced by an imposter. Yixing knew exactly what you were thinking as he rolled you on top of him, placing his hands on either side of your face as he stared intensly at you. “You’re probably thinking ‘who are you and what have you done with my husband?’ am I right?” he asked with a chuckle, your eyes widening in response. “Well... I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while you were in a coma. And I’ve changed too, for the better, I hope,” he started to explain. “I had almost lost the most important thing in my life and I don’t ever want that to happen again. I had been so obsessed with the thought of having you that I never once considered losing you. And I was too focussed on my empire and keeping you safe that I hadn’t realized how isolated you must have felt. My love for you was, and still is, so strong but I had never adequately shown you, I was never able to fully devote my love to you.” He stopped to place a long, loving kiss on your lips.

“I let myself be controlled by my demons, but I will never let that happen again,” he continued after parting from your lips. “From now on, you will be my main priority. I’m going to shower you with love and affection and make sure you never feel lonely again. I’m going to give you the happy, carefree life you deserve to live. And I will personally protect you from all the dangers in the world,” he whispered, pulling even closer to him, his lips ghosting yours. “What about the mafia?” you asked, the thought burning in your mind. “I will still be watching over my empire, but I have leaders now, men that I trust will make the right decisions and answer to me if things get out of hand. Something I should have thought about before you had gotten hurt,” he said, his voice filled with remorse as the events of that fateful day replayed in his inner eye.

You felt a single tear of joy escape your eye as you kissed your husband passionately, unable to express your bliss with mere words. You had never thought you would live to see the day when the mafia would play a less important role in his life than you. The two of you parted breathlessly, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes as you both caught your breaths. Yixing was the first to break the silence, “Why don’t we go on a trip? Take our minds off of everything that happened and enjoy some new scenery. We could fall in love all over again... and maybe work on getting a new pair of feet to roam these halls,” your husband suggested, his cheeks growing pink at the last statement.

Your heart started racing at the thought as you turned over onto the bed, pulling Yixing with you so that he was now on top of you. You gently stroked his back as you took in all of his warmth. “I would love to go on a trip with you and fall madly in love with you all over again. It will be like our second honeymoon,” you started, giving him a small peck on the lips. “As for your... other wish,” you felt your cheeks grow red as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. “Well, call me greedy but now that you’ve made me your main priority, I would like to be showered with your love for a while before I have to start sharing it,” you smirked, pressing your hips into his. He growled low in pleasure, giving you a devilish grin as you both stared at each other with lust-filled eyes. “If that’s the case,” he started, his hands running up and down your curves. “I think I should start by sending us both to paradise,” he winked, slipping off both of your sleeping attires.

He started kissing from your neck down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of love bites as you moaned in bliss at the feeling of his soft lips grazing your skin, your fingers intertwined with his. You bit your lip in anticipation of his next move while he gave you eskimo kisses, his eyes filled with nothing but love for you. He moved to kiss the shell of your ear before he whispered something to you. “I may be a changed man, my love,” he started, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “but you can still call me monster in bed.”

#zhang yixing fanfic #zhang yixing #exo lay #lay scenario #exo lay scenario #exo lay angst #exo lay mafia #zhang yixing scenarios #exo mafia au #exo angst #exo lay mafia au #yixing scenario #exo yixing #exo yixing angst #exo yixing mafia au

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rather-impertinent · 8 years ago

Text

Do Not Forget It

A/N: for my fave @arlome "you're holding back" (I forgot what number it is lmao) 💓 enjoy friends! xo

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A stone plops with speed into the water, disturbing the reflection of the moonlight, followed by another and then another and another. The bowler is a one Dr. Dwight Enys, who has abandoned his role as host in search of a quiet place to clear his thoughts. The water had always been a comfort to him, and the small deck and pond at the back of Killewarren, near the small, private garden was his favourite feature of the impressive estate. He hurls pebble after pebble, stone after stone, rock after rock into the poor, defenceless stream. He is so preoccupied by his thoughts that his wife's hand on his shoulder nearly ceases the function of his heart.

He stumbles several feet backwards and drops the small handful of pebbles he had been holding. "Caroline!" he exclaims, clutching his chest.

"Dr. Enys," she greets, giggling at him. I see you have still not mastered the art of skipping rocks," she teases. "Fear not, I shall teach you again on Sunday." She pulls her husband close to her and kisses him fervently before pulling away, feeling somewhat affronted. "You're holding back," she observes with a pouting face.

With some effort he shakes his head. "I'm not," he lies, his tone light. He has always been a terrible liar, a man of such upright moral values could not possibly be expected to be skilled in the art of deceit.

"Dwight," she says, offering her best encouraging smile. "Is something the matter? You can tell me," she takes his hands in her own, "We promised long ago not to keep anything from each other."

He smiles slightly. "That we did," he admits before sighing heavily. "I- I just wonder if such occasions," he motions to the house behind them, "are necessary, and so often."

She laughs dismissively, unaware of the ulterior motive behind his comment. "Oh, Dwight, I know you're no lover of society but I'm afraid such parties are indeed necessary for preserving our good name!"

Her comment stings him for some reason. "Does not my work do that?" he counters defensively.

Caroline releases her grip on his hands and rocks back and forth on her heels impatiently. "Of course it does - but in a different way! We have discussed this, Dwight! Like it or not, you are master of Killewarren, and you must take heed of the responsibilities of such a role," she has not noticed that he has blushed furiously at this, "Besides, it is an opportunity to spend more time together."

An owl hoots in the distance. "We've scarce exchanged two words all evening," he points out flatly.

Flustered by his logic, she hopes to win him over by a playfully taunt. "I'm afraid my dance card has been full. Such is the hardship of having a rich, beautiful wife! Perhaps I can fit in a dance with my favourite doctor some time later this evening." She smiles cheekily at him.

He tries to smile but finds it cannot reach his eyes. "I think I shall go to bed. I find I am feeling somewhat ill." He nods curtly at her and approaches the house.

That nod, Caroline reflects, is akin to one he had given her long ago, when she had teased him about the lives of his patients. The thought of such informality tightens in her chest and she observes him as he is about to enter the house. "Dwight! Wait!" He does not hear her, or perhaps ignores her deliberately, and slams the large oak door behind him.

Caroline returns to the party and Dwight's absence is now obvious to her. She accepts a dance with George Warleggan but is so distracted it is a miracle the man has any toes left by the end of the brief encounter. She excuses herself brusquely and approaches the table to fetch another glass of port, her third in only fifteen minutes since reemerging from outside.

Two men stand a few metres to her right, she does not recognise them but her ears prick at the recognition of their conversation topic.

"Is Dr. Enys truly a gentleman then, do you think?" the older man asks his younger friend.

The younger man smoothes his richly embroidered waistcoat as he considers his answer. "Supposedly," he scoffs. "But a man with such a queer sympathy for the poor could never truly be a gentleman. I have heard he wishes for there to be no divide between the likes of us and the vulgars. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?"

The two men laugh gruffly, which sends a wave of anger coursing through Caroline's body. "Indeed I have not. It is one thing to have sympathy with the vulgars but it is another to dress like one!" the older man continues in disgust, and Caroline's face grows redder. "The man's attire must be fifteen years out of fashion! One would expect to see a better dressed master of Killewarren, presuming his primary motive was the impressive fortune. Why, Ray Penvenen would turn in his grave to think of such an improper upstart inheriting his house and niece. Lord knows why Enys was so offended when you told him so!"

So, that is what is wrong with Dwight. She gulps her glass of port in one smooth motion, earning her several raised eyebrows, but she cares not. Before propriety has the chance to influence her decision she is approaching the two men; her features contorted in fury, her knuckles clenched with such force they are as white as the moon that shines in the sky.

Before she can open her mouth to launch an explosive tirade in defense of her husband, she is enveloped in a tight hug. "My dear, it is so good to see you!" exclaims Elizabeth Warleggan, elegantly turning her away from the two gentlemen and back towards the table of port. "My dear, you forget yourself," she warns warmly in a hushed tone. "I overheard their conversation, pray do not take it to heart. You know we all think highly of Dwight." She smiles gently at Caroline, whose temper is decreasing by the second. "Where is he?"

Caroline sighs and hesitates slightly. "He is upstairs, I believe. He has taken ill, would you believe it? Such irony!" she laughs nervously.

Elizabeth knowingly places a gentle pat on her bicep. "Go to him," she encourages quietly. "I shall see that things run smoothly here in your absence. It has been a while since George and I entertained, I find I am rather enjoying myself," she smiles brightly.

Caroline squeezes her hands lovingly in thanks and excuses herself; taking care not to sprint out of the room.

As she comes face to face with the door of their bedroom, nerves swim in her stomach. She honestly considers knocking before realising how utterly ridiculous that would be. She slowly turns the doorknob and peels the door open, closing it gently behind her. Dwight is sitting on the edge of the bed, his boots removed, staring blankly into space as he often does when he is upset; he has not acknowledged her presence.

Caroline gulps slightly before slowly edging near him. "My love?" she says shyly. Her voice brings him out of his daze and he swiftly stands up and begins untying his neckcloth. He simply nods at her again.

That second nod pricks her eyes, and she places her hands over his to cease his movements. She guides his chin with her hand so that she may look at him; his eyes are sad, like that of a small child or puppy. Her arms wrap tightly around his body. "Why did you not tell me what those horrible, impertinent scoundrels said?" she breathes against him, new anger surging through her veins at the mention of the two men downstairs, who continue to drink fine port at her expense! Bone shall have to escort them out.

Dwight's arms lightly slink around her waist and she smiles. "I did not wish to bother you with such things," he excuses lightly, his lie once again obvious to her ears.

She pushes away from him, severing their embrace. "For God's sake, Dwight!" she yells, "I am your wife! You can talk to me about anything! You know that! Why did you not tell me?"

He stiffens in response to her anger. "I did not wish to bother you," he grumbles stubbornly.

"If you do not tell me the truth this instant then I swear I shall sleep in the pink room for the remainder of our marriage! What is the matter?"

He runs an impatient hand through his styled hair. "I do not wish to embarrass you! I don't want you to feel ashamed of me!" he shouts, finally admitting the truth at last.

Caroline gasps quietly. Her comments earlier in the evening seemed to have a profound effect on him and now she sees why. She averts her eyes in shame at having fed his insecurities with her words. She sighs loudly. "Dwight, I could never feel ashamed of you," she tells him. "Your transition to master of Killewarren has been nothing short of extraordinary. Especially after your- ordeal- in France. I must doubt that there is another heiress alive who feels more pride for her husband."

He smiles shyly before his anxiety floods him again. "But- but everyone downstairs is so well-bred and proper and- gentlemanly. They thrive in such environments as this whereas I am tongue tied and foolish. I cannot help but feel they are somewhat right in suggesting I was not a suitable match for you."

"I did not marry you for your fine blue eyes nor your quality of neckcloth, Dr. Enys," she teases in attempt to calm the tightness in her chest at his implication. "Truly," she begins sincerely, nervously playing with the lace on her sleeve to distract from her vulnerability. "That all may well be true; they may have fortunes of their own and status. But since the day you chided me for my over indulgence of Horace's whims, I'm afraid there could be no other man for me but you. No man had ever stood up to me before. You challenged my every word, my selfish actions, my naive mind. You have made me who I am. Do you think I would be content to sit at home by the fire waiting for the return of any man from France?" she quickly wipes away a tear that threatens to fall. "I can assure you I would not. Perhaps I do not show it often enough, but I am truly proud to be married to such a kind, generous, intelligent, penniless country doctor!" She is both laughing and crying.

Dwight closes the distance between them with almost impossible haste and crashes his lips against hers with such passion she fears it will drain all of the air from her lungs. "I love you," he murmurs sincerely against her lips as they break apart, his brows furrowed in emotion as he considers how truly fortunate he is to have married such a wonderful, understanding woman.

She kisses him again. "I love you," she echoes ardently. She presses her index finger into his chest. "And do not forget it."

"I will not," he promises quietly, quickly kissing her again before offering his arm. "I believe you promised your favourite doctor a dance. Unless, of course, you are referring to Dr. Choake, in which case I believe is grounds for divorce!"

They laugh heartily but she does not take his arm as he expected, instead she resumes the untying of his forgotten neckcloth. "I have a fancy for a different sort of dance, one where I may prove to you just how proud I truly am," she purrs impudently.

Without any sort of resistance, he succumbs to her seduction, ripping the neckcloth from it's position and casting it carelessly onto the floor. Caroline fumbles desperately with the buttons of his waistcoat as he gently suckles her earlobe. A button slips off his vest and bounces off the floor, causing the doctor to chuckle brazenly into her ear. Her patience quite spent, she hoists the item over his head and dispenses it inattentively behind them, where it lays abandoned with the orphaned button, followed soon after by Dwight's shirt.

Dissatisfied with the uneven state of undress, he twirls her around, running his fingers through the tied lace of her gown, loosening it up. She grasps his sunny hair as he peppers avid, hot kisses along the column of her slender neck, eliciting delightful moans from his wife's parted lips. He skilfully removes her garments with the precision of a surgeons hand. He was - at present - pleasantly at peace with being considered ungentlemanly, and his wife could most assuredly not accuse him of holding back now.

#carolight #in Megan world we only have nice Elizabeth Warleggan ok? ok xxx

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wonshik-as-frick · 7 years ago

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It’s difficult to pretend that it is still winter, that spring never came, and with it, soft breezes filled with the distinctive scent you carried with you. It’s painful to dismiss you as if you never existed, as if I never existed in relation to you.

They say the human body works in strange ways, and perhaps that’s why nobody can ever figure it out, no matter how skilled the healer. Everything works, but only if everything else works, otherwise the entire body stops functioning. It’s why smoking can kill your liver, why alcoholism is a danger to the brain. Everything that happens, happens to the body as a unit. Every system wears the storm and if they can’t, every system crashes. I’d thought that a beautiful thing, until I watched it devour you. Devour those ties that connected us, severed it and turned us into independent systems, perpetually mourning the seamless unification that we had developed through the spring. Through the season that never came, yet died prematurely.

There is so much still floating between us, so many words we’d thought better unsaid and so many mistakes never rectified. So many wounds never healed, and never to be healed. No longer a unit, both of us will crash on our own. And how poetic both gain and loss are, how age and wear turns all to philosophy? How nothing is of permanence, and all falls to claws of illusion, and I find myself preaching in my mind the words I used to curse my parents for saying?

I was and am a utilitarian, as was our alliance made simply for utilitarianism. Simply because you created a better man of me, and I, you. Neither one of us would have chosen this beginning if we’d known how it would end. Together, we were something more, beyond worth and individual potential. We were wordless, infinite and evanescent all in the same breath. We were too much together, losing everything that made us independently prevalent. I feel no remorse, no guilt for ending our brief fraternization. It ended when it became more than us, out of hand. We’d agreed to these terms.

But I grieve for the piece of me that I too left hanging in the air, alongside all those unspoken apologies and hollow compromises that we prayed would delude us from the ugly truths for just a bit longer. We knew, eventually, we’d have to face the brutality of our greediness, the illusion of our safety as it shattered. Still we would cling, cling to that bit of warmth that our union produced, emanating purely from emotion.

My emotion has never done anyone but you any good, and the things I’d begun to feel had become too great to hide. For you, for another calm night of succulent forgetfulness of all that haunts us otherwise, I would give anything I had, and everything I didn’t. You were a gasp of sanity, a sweet, sensual breeze too tame to brave the heat and storms of summer. Living as we did among the petals and perfumes of a seemingly eternal spring left us so vulnerable to the cold that took over after, the cold that marked the beginning of an honest eternal winter.

This is a note to you, a note to explain the harshness with which I treated you, and the nonchalance with which I dashed our consanguinity. I never did it to take from you as it took, to take from me. To tamp my motivation, that impulse to refer to myself and you as an ‘us’, or ‘we’. Though I suppose, there must be some consequence for reclaiming a season I’d never liked much. But you? You had loved the winter. I wonder now if you hate it, because I built it full of flowering trees and warm air simply to hurt you.

I wonder now if you look at your life with ink blotting out my face, with the sharp divergence of winter spilling into summer and autumn. I wonder if it is difficult for you too, to pretend that spring never came, and that I never existed. That you never existed in relation to me. I wonder if you speak of what we were, and whether you can acknowledge it with an ‘us’ or ‘we’ without wincing, as it seems I cannot.

I will continue to love you with a pure selfishness I have no right to, unlike you, who has the right to all of the greed in the world. We took your childhood, your awe and wide eyes, and in return, you gave. You gave to me a second chance, and to us all you gave yourself. And I took, took it all in stride and gave you nothing but coy smirks and slightly less caustic remarks.

But I cannot allow you to believe that I didn’t care for you, because I did, impossibly. More than I had ever intended, nor been able to control. It was always you, the endlessness with which I needed you and the absolute devastation when you walked past as if you didn’t see me. You saved my life, and I saved yours, and we owed one another nothing more, until you saved me once again. Your companionship was a sip of life and I found myself able to breathe, but now I am left imbalanced.

How can a dying man save a life? Without the bitterness and envy, with all the purity and selflessness that you did mine? I am a statistic of the war you fought for us all, another body to add to the rising toll. The war you wish to forget, wish more than anything for it to never happen.

I remember listening, in your hushed voice, how much you had wanted to end the clash before it killed so many, how you believed that you didn’t do well enough as a child, as the child you were. I remember the manner in which you destroyed yourself over other’s faults, because you were and are too heroic, too much. I wondered how you could be so much and love something that was so lacking.

In every way, in fact, it seems we contrasted. It’s a miracle we’d even survived as long as we had. You were strong and dark, all charcoal black and soft features, and I was sharp, delicate to the point that you feared I’d break, light as snow and chiseled until I looked like a geometry lesson more than a man. You loved winter, and I couldn’t stand it. You were heroic, and I was a coward. You were mine and I was yours—there are no greater opposites than that.

At least, if we have nothing else, if we will never land on the same foot or whisper our secrets into the same breeze, at least we will still have those memories.

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avengershavethetardis · 8 years ago

Text

Jealousy?

Okay, I took the challenge from the beautiful @sanjariti and I wanted to make it really nice so I had like a million rough drafts and I hated them all so here is the one I hated the least. It’s probably like a really long and cringey little piece of writing but I did it and I hope it isn’t too bad. I took the prompt “Don’t be mad because I’m doing me better than you’re doing you with Bucky Barnes and reader. ( @sanjariti again I’m so sorry) Also the word count came out to 4,099 so it’s a long cringe fest.

For seventy years, Bucky had been trapped in a cage of loneliness and despair. His head, thoughts, and motivation had all been trapped under the hand that was HYDRA. Life had been a tragedy for as long as he could remember. He thought that he was going to be stuck in this never ending spiral of despair and loneliness. But there was a small piece of the old Bucky that was constantly fighting to hold onto a small memory of hope that showed itself through kind blue eyes. Those deep ocean blues that let him know everything would work itself out. He was finally able to see the owner of those eyes when he ran into the man on the bridge.

It had been like any other mission but it ended up being so much more. Bucky thanked God every day for giving him the chance to start over again with his childhood best friend and those blue eyes. Of course, it took a while for him to get used to life as Bucky Barnes and not the Winter Soldier. He always had Steve there though.

He lived with Steve first in a small apartment in his home city of Brooklyn (even if rent was a little on the high side). In the beginning, Steve had worked day and night trying to get Bucky back to the smooth and confident man he once was but he couldn’t. Bucky felt like he had failed his savior by not being able to function like the young man Steve remembered. He thought a lot about his own personal sufferings and the “burden” he was for not being the old Bucky. Sam was the first to notice the negative thoughts that Bucky was having and quickly stepped in even if Bucky found him to be an “annoying birdbrain” who always called dibs on shotgun.

It might have been a long, very difficult and sometimes violent process to get Bucky to be stable and finally understand that he was Steve’s best friend till the end of the line, but they got there.

When rent got a little too pricey for even America’s living and breathing landmark (Tony’s words), Stark had offered the Avengers facility to the two best friends. Bucky was nervous about meeting the rest of the team seeing as they were the closest thing to a family Steve had after he “died”. At first, Bucky was closed off and unengaging. Steve had such amazing friends who made his life easier. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore but he didn’t feel worthy enough to hang with the likes of Tony Stark or Thor. So he did what he thought he had to do for Steve. However once Pepper found out that he didn’t join in family dinners or participate in weekly movie nights, she gave him a passionate and very terrifying rant about how he’s a part of the family and better start acting like it.

Bucky showed up to every dinner and movie night after that.

The team warmed up to him quickly and vice versa. He quickly became the center of attention and became a crucial asset to the team on and off the field. Working for HYDRA ruined a good portion of his life but he did learn a lot under their control. Everyone knew he was a skilled fighter but his level of leadership and ability to come up with infiltration plans was a level of genius that not even Steve could parallel.

He traded fighting techniques with Natasha. He made fun of Steve with Sam. He loved the same kind of movies as Clint. He learned to cook with Wanda. He learned about modern life from Vision. And he learned to deal with trauma from Tony.

Bucky became quickly everybody’s favorite. He was gaining popularity and steadily keeping it. To say he enjoyed it was an understatement but Bucky’s time in the limelight was quickly cut short with the arrival of Y/N. _________________________

“I’m tired of eating pizza every night. I just want something new and better than a slice of Leone’s,” Tony groaned. The Avengers were sitting in the dining room arguing over what to eat: homemade, takeout, fast food, Indian, Chinese, etc.

“I don’t see why we have to change things up. I love Leone’s,” Steve countered.

“Listen, Old Man, you used to boil everything you ate on a raggedy stove so you have no say in what quality food is,” Tony said. “I actually agree with Steve here, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it,” interrupted Clint.

“You can’t be serious Legolas, you’re siding with Flag Boy here!? Come on who else is joining him?” Tony asked. Clint’s and Wanda’s hand went into the air. While Vision raised his too wanting to be on the same side as Wanda.

“Okay now, who’s on my side AKA the winning side?”

Bucky’s, Natasha’s and Sam’s hands went up meaning there was a tie. A huge argument regarding food choices broke out dividing the team in half. The sounds of complaints and whining filled the room making it look like a classroom and not the home of the world’s most powerful individuals. Not wanting to have the fight turn into an all out Civil War, Bucky was about to offer to cook something for all of them when the loud ding of the elevator broke the commotion.

No one was expecting to be bothered with work on their day off so the emergence of a serious looking Fury at the hallway was a surprising one. However, Fury did not walk in alone.

Next to Fury stood one of the most beautiful dames Bucky ever had the pleasure of beholding. She was of about average height. She had glowing bronze skin with bold and wild curly black locks. They framed a face with warm brown eyes, the kind you can stare into forever without realizing you’ve been drowning in them the whole time. Her lips were thick and plump covered in red lipstick.

Her looks weren’t the main thing that drew Bucky to her though. It was the type of attitude she released. She walked with sturdy strides that screamed confidence. On her lips, she wore a small smirk that suggested she knew something you didn’t. Her aura was both intimidating but welcoming at the same time. She looked like she could encase you in the warmest hug of your life but snap you in half if you got on her bad side. And Bucky loved it.

Once in front of the kitchen island Fury took it upon himself to explain the situation to the Avengers who stood there staring at their new guest with looks ranging from confusion to excitement.

“It’s nice to see that the team I assembled behaves like grown adults who know how to resolve conflicts and compromise,” Fury said with his arms crossed, “But solving your dinner problems is the least of my concern at the moment. Avengers, I want you to meet your newest member, would you care to introduce yourself, ma’am?”

Bucky was half expecting her stutter over her words or sound kind of nervous after all they were the Avengers and it’s not every day you meet master assassins and enhanced human beings. He remembered being in a position similar to her own a couple months ago. He was introducing himself to Steve’s friends and messed up on his own name. To this day Sam still calls him Borky. However, to his surprise, she didn’t do anything like what he did.

“Hello, I’m Y/N L/N and I’m looking forward to working with all of you,” she said with a sweet and self-assured tone. The moment those words escaped her mouth Bucky couldn’t help but hear her subtle accent. He didn’t find it to be a bad thing, no on the contrary he wished that she would open her mouth again and speak his own name with that same accent. At the same time, Bucky was a little jealous that she was able to speak in a poised voice when in the same situation that introduced him to a new level of embarrassment.

“She will be moving into the Avengers facility and you guys will act as hospitable hosts, teaching her how things function around here. Barnes and Rogers, you too will be in charge of setting up a training schedule for her and helping her prepare for your next mission in two weeks. I hope you all solve your dinner dilemma.” Fury nodded and ended his last sentence with a tone of voice that made it clear there would be no taking of questions. He walked out leaving the Avengers with a strange woman in their presence.

“Well this isn’t awkward at all,” Y/N said with a laugh. After a few more moments of an uncomfortable silence, Y/N responded with, “Well don’t all rush to introduce yourselves.”

“Oh right! Sorry about that, we just weren’t expecting a visitor much less a new member all of a sudden. I’m Sam.” said the handsome man with warm brown eyes. “This is Steve, Tony, Wanda, Natasha, Clint, Vision, and Bucky.” he continued gesturing to the name’s respectful owners.

“It’s so amazing to be here with all of you. I mean I never in my life thought that I’d reach the same status as the likes of Captain America or Iron Man. So this pretty surreal for me.” she said gazing around at all of them with kind eyes. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything too important before I got here. I heard you guys arguing about something like Pizza or Lord of the Rings before I walked in.”

“Oh yeah, we were just deciding on what we were going to eat for dinner. It kind of spiraled out of control. Don’t worry about it though. Actually, why don’t you pick today’s dinner seeing as it’s your first team dinner,” suggested Steve.

“How about I do you one better and cook a nice traditional home made meal for all of you,” replied Y/N.

“Ummm, you know Y/N I was going to offer to cook something up-“ Bucky started.

“Oh no that’s fine I can do it and I don’t mean to brag or insult your skills but I’ve been told I’m one of the best cooks out there.” Y/N said with a smile that Bucky couldn’t help but adore.

About an hour after Y/N entered the kitchen, there seemed to be delicious smells of food and spices coming from the kitchen. While Y/N was working her magic in the kitchen, the rest of the Avengers waited eagerly to taste what Y/N was cooking.

“A comer!” shouted Y/N from the dining room.

“Jesus that smells amazing Y/N. What did you make?” said Tony while entering.

“Muchas gracias, they’re called sopes. My mom used to make them for me all the time when I was younger.”

The Avengers quickly washed their hands, sat down and dug their hands into the warm delectable little tortillas. All except for Bucky who couldn’t help but feel a tiny ounce of annoyance. Cooking for the team was always kind of his thing. After missions, he would cook up some nice warm soup or some tasty spaghetti. He loved the little compliments he would get over his dishes. To hear them directed at someone else irked him a bit but nevertheless, he enjoyed the food like the others (maybe, even more, knowing who prepared the meal.)

Tony, deciding to take initiative of the conversation, asked their newest member some questions to get to know her a bit better. They found out that she was born in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico. She lived there until it got too dangerous for her family because of the crime and drug wars. She and her family then immigrated to California when she was 12 years old. She was fluent in Spanish, was proud of her culture and where she came from which Bucky couldn’t help but be attracted to. Women in the 40s all kind of threw themselves at him. And these women were all amazing and kind people but they lacked this confidence and attitude that he saw in Y/N. __________________________

And it seemed that every other member of the team recognized that confidence that she had and the unapologetic attitude she showcased and they loved it too. She became everyone’s favorite member of the team.

She would joke around with Tony and Sam. She traded traditional recipes with Wanda. Bonded with Natasha over ways of playing their “weak female” appearance to their advantage. She taught Vision how to act more like a person and how to be mindful of the emotions of others. She had heated debates with Clint over everything but they were all out of love and mutual respect.

And her and Steve could not have gotten along any better. They both had what they called unparalleled bravery but Bucky called it stupidity and irresponsibility. They traded stories of playground scuffles, acts of courage, traumatic confrontations and just plain stupid fist fights. They were like two peas in a pod and Bucky hated it.

He hated the fact this beautiful lady could just walk in all smooth like. She could easily win over the hearts and trust of the Avengers, she could become the new center of attention, and steal precious moments away from his best friend.

But what Bucky hated most was that he couldn’t hate her. Despite her stealing every ounce of praise away from him, he couldn’t help but also grow a soft spot for her. She was kind and confident and beautiful and strong. He hated that he couldn’t hate her and it seemed everyone noticed his sour change in mood including a certain super soldier.

Bucky sat at the dining room table waiting for Steve and Y/N to get up so they could start training again. When Steve came down he noticed the childlike pout on his face.

“ You have that look on your face again.”

Bucky looked up, “I don’t have any look on my face, punk.”

“Oh come on, what’s on your mind? You’ve been acting like this for weeks now.”

“It’s nothing don’t worry about it. Besides is her royal highness ready yet?”

“Her royal highness? Oh, I get what this is about now!” Steve yelled excitedly. “You’re jealous of Y/N and all the attention she’s getting, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie. Besides, you have nothing to be jealous about. We just want to make her feel welcome, loosen up.”

“You loosen up Steve, I’m tired of her strutting around with her soft hair and pretty smile on her lips,” Bucky let slip but instantly regretted it.

“Soft hair? Pretty smile? Oh, this isn’t jealousy. Is it love that I detect?” Steve said bursting out into laughter.

“Yes! I mean no! Shut up punk!” Bucky let out flustered.

Steve’s chuckles were quickly tuned out by Bucky because at that moment, Y/N walked into the room from out of the hallway. And she had a puzzled look on her face wondering what kept her friend in giggles.

“Did I miss out on a funny joke or something?” She questioned with a small smile.

“No, it was nothing. Steve’s being stupid. Let’s just go train.” He said curtly while pushing past Y/N.

Now Bucky’s rude and quiet behavior did not go unnoticed by Y/N. She very easily figured out that he had something against her. It didn’t take her too long to realize that he was most likely jealous of the new found attention that focused solely on her. But as much she tried not letting it get to her it still did. Usually, she would brush it off and think nothing of it but she was kind of angry that Bucky didn’t like her after all she had not intentionally done anything wrong. This small part of her wanted him to like her but she wasn’t exactly sure why that part of her kept growing in size each day. __________________________

Training used to be one of Bucky’s favorite things to do but ever since Y/N made an appearance he hated it. She was extremely skilled in the art or combat and weaponry. Not to mention the added bonus of her ability to control metal. Bucky found this to be the worst. Typically Bucky could beat anyone in hand to hand combat but now the brown eyed beauty could take him down (emotionally and physically) easily with the smallest of movements. Today, Bucky was feeling more annoyed than usual.

They had all been training for about two hours. Steve and Y/N had been caring nice and light conversations about whatever popped into their head. Y/N occasionally tried to bring Bucky into the conversation as a way to get on his good side but he just brushed her off with a grunt, silence or if he was particularly sour a scoff.

It was after the 3rd scoff and 12th attempt to make conversation did Y/N finally crack under pressure.

“What’s your problem?!” She yelled out.

Bucky just stared playing confused.

“No seriously what is your problem? You always start to look away or leave a room the moment I step into a room. I try to make polite conversation and get you involved with your new team member but you just brush me off and pretend that I’m not here. You treat me like the scum on your shoe and you know what? If all of this is because you feel jealous that your team is getting along with a new member then you are an absolute idiot who needs to learn that the world doesn’t revolve around him. God! Don’t be mad because I’m doing me better than you’re doing you.”

With that loud and bold rant, Y/N quickly walked out of the room and slammed the door with so much force and anger that she broke the metal door knob and tore the door off of its hinges.

Bucky was not expecting her to go off on him so much and verbally call him out like that. He didn’t for once think about how she felt with him ignoring her and not giving her the attention she deserves. And to think he wanted to have a chance with her.

“I think I made a huge mistake.”

______________________

The rest of Bucky’ day was spent looking for the opportunity to explain himself to Y/N and try to confess his true feelings. However, he never got that opportunity because Y/N had locked herself in her room for the whole day and didn’t want to come out. Bucky decided to give her that day to cool off and hoped that the next day she would be a bit more willing to hear him out. However, he woke up the next morning to find out that she was gone and had left for a mission.

Steve had informed Bucky that it was a small low-risk mission with Sam and that they’d likely be back during the evening. They were supposed to check in at around 12 pm to let everyone know the mission was going accordingly but when they didn’t receive that call, everyone began to worry.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Sam forgets to call in and do things all the time,” Steve assured the team.

“Sam might do that but we’re also talking about Y/N. She would ever be even a minute late to make the phone call.” Countered Natasha.

The rest of the team stayed silent and the tension grew thick. Everyone was nervous to figure out what happened to two of their favorite team members. And poor Bucky was practically pacing and leaving holes the carpet. His mind was racing with terrible thoughts. What if Y/N died and she never forgave him? What if she came back and refused to ever see him again? Or what if she just didn’t care anymore?

His thoughts were put to rest when the team l received messages that said Sam and Y/N had made it back and were in the hospital wing. The team quickly rushed over to find out the status of their family.

When they got there, they saw that Sam was okay and had suffered minor wounds which was amazing news. The bad news was that he only suffered so little because Y/N had taken so many hits for him and wants to protect him as much as she could. However, this meant Y/N’s status was more severe than Sam’s and she would likely have to stay in the hospital for a couple weeks before she was okay.

The team could finally relax knowing that they had not lost any close friends that night.Though Bucky still wanted to see, Y/N for himself. So he did the most rational thing he could think of in that moment, break into Y/N’s hospital room and be by her side when she woke up.

Bucky sat on the chair looking down at the woman he hurt for such petty reasons. He didn’t realize how much of a real douche he was being and now he could only hope that he would be forgiven.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I was a real idiot. I don’t know how I was stupid enough to be jealous of the team giving you attention.I mean you deserve every ounce of that praise and care. I wish I could go back and be just as welcoming because if anyone on this team is worthy of praise it’s you. God, I wish you won’t just forgive me but let me make it up to you somehow. I didn’t want to admit it but there’s something about you that just makes me want to be near you all time. I want to hear your beautiful accent fill my ears. I want to see your curly hair bounce around when you giggle at something funny. I want to hear you scold the team in Spanish. I want to hear your loud music blasting from your room next door. And I just want to be near you every time you’ll let me.”

After a few moments Bucky laid his head in his hands and with a sigh whispered, “God, I’m so pathetic.”

“No, you’re not.”

With a startled look up Bucky saw Y/N’s big brown eyes look back at him with so much sincerity. He suddenly turned red when he realized that she could have heard his pathetic excuse of an apology and creepy rant about his affection for her.

“Oh Jesus, I’m sorry. I broke into your hospital room because I’m an idiot and wanted to see if you were fine. I’ll head out now.” he rambled quickly trying to apologize for his invasion of her privacy.

“That was beautiful.” she interrupted.

“Wh-what?”

“Your little speech or should I call it a confession?” she teased with a little smile.

“Oh… you heard all of that?”

“Yeah. The big bad Winter Soldier was jealous and had a little crush on me didn’t he?” she said with a cocky smile.

“I- uh,”

“Don’t be embarrassed I think it’s kind of cute. Oh, of course, that doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive you all at once with that lame apology because frankly, I deserve better, but I’ll give you a chance to make it up to me. And who knows I just might return those feelings back one day, I mean you are kind of handsome when you aren’t acting like an idiota.” she said with a big smile on her face.

“I’ll make it up to you I promise. How about dinner? Next Saturday at 6?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“No, no, no, no, no. You aren’t getting by with just dinner. You owe me a whole day of fun. So next Friday bring your A-game and get your good apology ready because I don’t want a rocky start to our relationship.”

“Relationship?” Bucky asked with his mouth open.

“If you play your cards right Barnes.” she said with a smirk on the corner of her mouth.

Bucky grew a big smile on his face and knew that next Friday was going to be the day he made it up to Y/N and the day a lifetime of laughter and happiness would begin. And Bucky could not contain his excitement.

#carosgameofprompts #my lame attempt #at writing

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