#'i dreamt the impossible that maybe things could work out right'

[wizardofgoodfortune]

HOB GADLING in 1989

woke up to reality and found the future not so bright i dreamt the impossible that maybe things could work out right —johnny hates jazz, "shattered dreams"

[porcelainbirdss]

those summer nights ⋆·˚ ༘ * kuroo tetsurou

japan, 1991. kuroo tetsurou just graduated college. due to his advanced insomnia, he’s trapped within his own house, unable to work. his parents finally come up with a solution. he moves to his grandma’s house in the countryside, but only for the summer. there he meets a certain problem called y/n.

kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

content warning: serious health problems, (kinda) unstable relationships with parents, slight enemies to lovers, this is an au where haikyuu takes place in the 90s, more warnings to come as i go on with the story.

ch. one - "don’t let the bedbugs bite." ↓

japan, 1991

kuroo tetsurou just graduated college.

if you were to ask anybody else, they would probably say that the time passed quickly. days flew over their heads. but not for him, no.

kuroo’s days always seemed to stretch on forever. a gray blur. they were mostly filled with studying, as he was at the top of his classes. one may say that’s a normal school experience.

there was only one, big issue.

he couldn’t sleep.

his first problems with insomnia started to take place during the fresh start at a new college. in kuroo’s mind studying was more important than sleep, as he was academically driven. maybe his issue was that he dreamt of reaching the stars, or simply because success was drilled into his head at a young age.

still, nothing changed the fact that his health deteriorated. everyone always pointed out his skin was pale, and the shadows under his eyes hung low.

he felt fine, telling himself that this lifestyle is only temporary, that he’ll change once he gets back home. it turned out impossible. whenever he tried to get a rest, all he could do was throw around. changing positions, trying to tire himself. none of that had any effect on kuroo.

he’d randomly pass out during the day. concentrating and doing daily tasks took a toll on him, rendering the man useless. no point in getting a job if he can’t even tell apart a spoon from the fork.

kuroo often wondered during those sleepless nights - how did he even manage to do well in college? right now his whole life was crumbling and he wanted to scream from frustration. actually, he often did, stuffing his head into the pillows of his childhood home.

it felt torturous.

eventually he began going to the doctors. filled with new hope, the man tried taking their advice. medication, health procedures, exercises. at first it seemed to be working, but then everything in his system crashed again. at some point no one had a clue on what was going on inside his body.

finally, it began to feel terrifying. not only the sleeplessness, but also the alienation. detachment from your own body. the lack of control. not being able to force your own self to do something as simple as sleeping. of course there was the inability to do most things right too, and forgetting major parts of the day.

whenever he passed out, time seemed to jump around the place, like a mischievous cat. it’s noon, now it’s evening. he was just awake - wait, he closed his eyes for a second, so why’s it dark? is it the next day or is it still today? perhaps it’s yesterday?

he often pondered - will it stay like that forever?

can anybody even live like this?

when kuroo’s head banged onto the table with a loud 'thud!', his mother rapidly stood up, hitting the wooden surface with her palm. the rattle was strong enough to knock over the weird concoction that kuroo cooked up a while ago. a lemon tea (if you could even call it that) with at least twelve spoons of sugar. yes, the woman was counting.

"kuroo!" she yelled, "enough of that nonsense!"

her remarkably loud voice was enough to stir the man out of his unexpected nap. his mother was seething. kuroo rubbed his hurt forehead with a frown, before looking up at her. then his eyes trailed over the spilled tea. a short noise of surprise ripped from his throat.

"oh, my drink…" he sighed, getting up to grab a towel. "i’ll clean this up, mom, no worries."

kuroo quickly explained, his tone slightly slurred as he slapped the cloth onto the table, attempting to soak up the gooey "tea" that just spilled all over, now dripping down on the floor. he tediously wiped. a long beat of silence filled the kitchen before it was over.

"see? done." he forced a smile, which probably didn’t seem authentic.

his honeyed eyes snapped towards his mother, seeking approval. her face distorted, only for a second. it happened often, seeing stranger things. sometimes they just… looked different, and kuroo already got used to it. no matter if that plant reminded him of a dog, sitting by the stairs. or if his mom’s face was replaced by the weather girl’s. at the end of the day, it was only his mind playing ugly tricks.

"kuroo. we need to talk," she demanded, "i’m worried."

"about what?" her son inquired, leaning over the counter in order to support his suddenly heavy body. "i’m fine mom, just a bit tired."

oh wow, what a blatant lie.

the woman circled over the table, now standing in front of him. her posture was as stiff as a violin string, and that usually meant no good. she crossed her arms, looking at kuroo with scrutiny. her eyes studied him for a prolonged second.

"you’re lethargic."

"what? no-"

"don’t you dare lie to me," she barked, her lips starting to tremble, "sometimes i look at you and wonder - how is he even alive?"

kuroo didn’t know how to respond to that. 'me too'? if others worried, then imagine just how troubled he was. they didn’t have to be in his place. none of his friends nor family had to struggle with insomnia. of course he was jealous of them, and obviously pained too.

seeing his unresponsive reaction, his mother continued, "and this is the main reason why you’re still unemployed. you— we can’t go on like this forever!”

here it goes again. the ''work talk''.

shame instantly washed over him. he wished he could sit down, and he felt his eyelids drooping. the ticking of the clock resonated loudly in the back of his mind. wait, where was the clock again? was it ever in the kitchen? no, never mind. that’s not important. right now he needed to muster up a response.

"uhh… i’m sorry. i’m not sure what to do myself." perhaps he sounded too uninterested. "i’ll… try to figure something out."

at that, the woman sighed and strolled slowly over to the chair, plopping down heavily. frown painted itself across her face. she supported her head with a fist, unsatisfied with her son’s answer. tension in the air arose as she observed his slumped silhouette.

kuroo fiddled with his fingers, biting inside his cheek. he parted his lips, thinking - "should i break the silence? but what do i even say?". before any sound left his mouth, the man’s mother got up from her seat. she swiftly rendered the distance between her and the phone hanging from the wall.

"i’ll call your father." she stated, fingertips grazing over the receiver. "we’ll talk everything over in person. i can’t handle having a literal wreck of a human under my roof."

sensing it was the end of their frigid discussion, kuroo simply nodded and headed upstairs. he reached his room, feeling like he should probably be angry. he couldn’t. time after time, he felt his emotions becoming duller. at first he was irritated by his mother showing zero understanding towards his situation, however now it seemed pointless. or maybe his mind was just too fried.

he fell down onto his bed, praying for at least an hour of sleep. last night he was blessed with astonishing thirty minutes. good enough, he thought. as he closed his eyes, the sun rays tickled his whole face. too bright.

kuroo got up to close the dark curtains, swishing them over his window.

"now that’s better…" he muttered, lying back down. he repeated someone’s words in his mind - stay still, relax, quiet down your mind.

nothing.

he lied, sprawled out on his bed in the most comfortable position he could find. it seemed like forever, and maybe it was. no matter how much he tried soothing himself, it never worked. why was he even trying?

another forever passed, and kuroo felt the agitation arising in his chest. he could not sleep. feeling close to freaking out, he reached towards the sleep medication placed on his bedside table. he rattled the bottle, and by the sound of it, there were maybe three pills at best. it would take at least two hours for the melatonin to kick in, and the effects were usually meek anyway.

his tired eyes trailed mindlessly over his walls, finally stopping at the diploma he hung over the desk. a badge of honor. one of the best students.

was it all worth it?

before kuroo had the chance to slip down the spiral of dark thoughts, he heard footsteps, followed by knocking. the man got up, cracking his neck with a small yawn. he opened the door, and the sight of his father failed to surprise him.

"how are you doing, son?" he asked, "me and your mother wanna have a word with you. can you come down?" his words were steady, but something was obviously up.

his father was rarely home, often working until late hours or running errands. whenever his wife called him home, it usually was for an important reason.

"yeah, sure." kuroo responded softly, trailing after his parent. he didn’t want to, but protesting didn’t have a point. it’s not like he had any choice to begin with.

he couldn’t help the ominous feeling creeping down his spine when he spotted his mother sitting on the couch with a pinched expression. uh-oh. something was definitely up.

he dragged his feet towards her, swallowing thickly.

"sit down with us," the woman spoke, patting the seat beside her, "i made you some tea. it’s a lemon balm - peppermint blend."

kuroo obediently seated himself next to his mom, his father taking a seat across them. the man eyed the tea made specifically for him. his favorite. he felt as if he was on some kind of politician meeting, his leg starting to bounce involuntarily. kuroo grabbed the cup, noticing that his hands were shaking from the exhaustion. nothing new.

trying not to spill anything, he drank a little of the warm liquid. somehow it had the opposite effect of relaxing.

"so… you’re kicking me out?" he finally broke the gravely silence, before realizing how straightforward he sounded. his tone was so apathetic it could seem as if he did not care.

and maybe he didn’t.

his parents looked at each other, shock blooming on their faces in vibrant colours. it instantly melted their harsh expressions into something more agreeable.

"no, of course not. we would never," his father began, leaning closer to him, "me and your mother simply came up with a certain idea.”

"one that perhaps could help you," she added quickly, trying to sound reassuring, "do you remember your grandmother?"

his grandmother?

oh. oh.

kuroo already guessed in which direction the conversation was going, even though it took his anguished mind a second. nonetheless, he nodded slowly, trying to listen to them with patience.

"as you know, she lives in the countryside," the woman continued, "we’d want you to live with her for the summer. the air and lifestyle will surely help you with your sleeping problems."

"when you come back, all rested and happy, then you could find a job. or maybe even try to start your own business, am i right honey?" the older man sent his wife a smile before focusing his eyes on kuroo.

both his parents ogled him with anticipation, making it impossible to refuse even if he wanted to. well, if nothing worked, then at least he could try their idea. the more he mulled over the vision of living far away from the city, the more appealing it appeared.

"i mean… why not?" kuroo’s lips curled up, probably being his first genuine smile in a while, "i could do that."

his mom and dad cheered together, patting their son’s back. the spirits in the room were lifted instantly. how simple.

in a more peaceful atmosphere they explained every detail to him, saying that he should start packing as soon as possible. kuroo felt as if they actually wanted to get rid of him, considering how suddenly happy they got. it didn’t matter.

from what he deduced, he should leave in about two days. with that, he began preparing. he met up with his friend, kenma, saying that he will be out of town for the whole summer. the younger man wasn’t opposed to the idea. he even went as far as encouraging it. well - if kenma thinks it’s something good, then kuroo was left with no doubts.

first of july, 1991

a rundown station welcomed kuroo, who was trying to fight his sluggishness. for whatever reason, he didn’t feel as energized as he thought he will. it was no surprise, though. during the last two days, he overall got about three hours of sleep. plus, he will have to tug his suitcase until he finds taxi. what a pain.

letting out a big sigh, he began walking. his luggage seemed more heavier than he remembered. perhaps it was the work of the cracked cement, which certainly made the whole route harder.

one hour passed and he lost his way. twice. but hey, at least he got to his grandmother’s house safely, right?

wasting all of his remaining energy, he dragged the suitcase towards the door and knocked. before he knew it, an older woman appeared in front of him, taken aback. kuroo’s jaw tightened, unsure of what to do. did she not recognize him? well, it could be the case. the last time he visited was probably ten years ago.

"kuroo…? is that you, my son?" she inquired, adjusting her glasses. yup, she did not recognize him.

"yes, grandma. that’s me. i—"

he didn’t even have the time to process what was happening before he realized that he was trapped in a gentle embrace. slightly confused, he hugged his grandmother back, smiling to himself. he didn���t expect such a warm welcome.

the woman pulled away, examining kuroo. she had to crank up her neck in order to look into his eyes, as he was towering over her. well, she was old and fragile. no wonder the height difference was so overwhelming.

"you’ve grown so much. i didn’t even recognize you at first!", she chuckled, stepping aside to let the man in. he thanked her with a nod before walking inside.

"i’m very grateful that you agreed to this. i mean- me staying with you.” kuroo felt himself stumbling over his own words. even though he tried to focus, the world before his eyes seemed to blur and spin.

"ah, no worries, no worries,” she replied, quietly shutting the door, "when i heard from your mother that you’re sick… i just couldn’t believe it. you were always such an energetic and healthy child." her tone was sorry, making it sound as if she was close to tearing up.

kuroo’s lips formed a thin line, suddenly feeling guilty. he shook his head, trying to appear unbothered.

"i’m not sick, grandma. i just have problems with falling asleep. i’m sure i’ll get better here." he smiled at her, before looking around the house.

it was… rustic, to say the least. but not in a bad way. he liked the atmosphere. everything seemed so cozy and somewhat soothing. he instantly got reminded of his youthful, carefree days. how he used to run around the house and play soccer in the fields with other children. he even invited kenma to spend a few weeks at his grandma’s- but the younger got ill after two days and had to go back.

"well, if you say so… anyway, i’ve prepared dinner and—"

she didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence before someone opened the door.

a young woman appeared in the doorframe, carrying a basket filled with various stuff. from what kuroo could tell, it was only some eggs and vegetables.

he opened his mouth in order to greet the new face, but she overtook him.

"i brought everything needed," she smiled cheerfully at his grandmother before handing her the basket, "oh! also, my aunt wanted to give you her new jam." she kneeled, zipping her postman bag open and taking out two jars filled with some red stuff. it probably was strawberry flavored.

"thank you so much, dear," the older one chimed, taking the jars from her hands, "i can always count on you."

kuroo looked between the two perplexed, before finally someone decided to break him free from the awkwardness.

"oh, i’m sorry kuroo. this is y/n. she’s our neighbor. she moved in two years ago with her family, and has been helping me since. she’s a true sweetheart." his grandmother briefly explained, sending an apologetic smile towards her grandson.

the girl straightened up, her eyebrow quirking upwards. she placed her hand on hip, examining the black-haired man with scrutiny.

"and you?", y/n asked curtly, obviously awaiting for his introduction.

well, if you were to ask kuroo, she was every other adjective but a 'sweetheart'. he felt himself freeze under her electric gaze. he wasn’t shy, so why was he acting so dumb? he could as well drop dead from the embarrassment that his slow reaction caused him.

at the first glance, there was nothing remarkable about y/n. she was shorter than him, dressed in a humble summer dress. it was obviously stained from the soil. however, she measured him with perfect confidence and calmness.

the more he looked at her, the more intriguing she appeared in his eyes.

gosh, what on earth is he even thinking about?

"i’m kuroo tetsurou. i moved in for the summer." was all he could muster up. blame it on his tired mind.

the girl nodded. then she turned to his grandmother and said her goodbyes before leaving the house.

damn. she didn’t even cast a single glance towards him as she was walking out.

"well, she’s… certainly something." he muttered. hearing that, his grandma laughed before patting his back in a reassuring manner.

"she’ll grow on you, don’t worry. y/n is your age, so i’m sure you both will get along just fine," she let out a small chuckle, "for now let’s eat. i’ll show you your room later." the older woman stated, shuffling kuroo’s baggage to the side.

the two of them walked into the kitchen. kuroo sat by the table, earlier offering to help with serving the food, but his grandmother sternly denied. at least he could rest his legs now.

before long, in front of his eyes appeared the dinner. it consisted of his favorites during childhood. it surprised kuroo, making him smile at the rather big portions of everything.

they prayed and began eating. his tongue was burning, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for more. the food was… oddly satisfying. when he was in tokyo, his diet consisted mainly of instant noodles and other trash that he dig up from the bottoms of the drawer. he was over the moon to say the least.

fortunately for him, grandmother didn’t really speak much about his insomnia. they conversed about volleyball, college, his travel here and such. it was a pleasant change.

whenever he was at home, his parents only wanted to talk about one topic. sleeplessness (or his unemployment). it bored him and made even more exhausted, as they didn’t even try to feel bad for him. now it was different. kuroo knew the topic will eventually come up, but for now he could take a breath.

later on, his grandma showed him his room. it was mostly empty, filled only with necessities. it also had a nice balcony he could relax on.

kuroo thanked the older woman before unpacking his suitcase. he troubled himself with putting everything inside the wooden wardrobe, and that made the time pass quickly enough. then he took his sleep medication, washing the pill down with tap water.

'it’s so quiet in here', he thought, before stepping out on a balcony. the silence was deep and engulfing. the only sound that interrupted it was the soft chirping of cicadas and night birds. the man looked around, taking in the sights. mountains, trees. everything was now submerged in the dark.

it took kuroo a while, but soon he realized that his balcony was actually facing another one. they were so close, he could probably jump across to the other one without a sweat. he didn’t know who lived there, but it made no difference. the man plopped down on the plastic chair, letting out a huff of air.

his poor brain was at the brink of what it could endure. his muscles ached. he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe, just maybe he could get some sleep. even for fifteen minutes. even for—

"just what are you doing here?!"

a high-pitched yell came from his right, stirring the man from his desired slumber. kuroo growled, already recognizing the voice. it was her. his eyebrow twitched, as agitation arose within his chest. hm, it was long since he felt so annoyed.

he pulled himself up, facing the girl on the opposite balcony. y/n was standing by the barrier, gripping it with her hands. her face was also contorted, but probably not as much as his.

"i’m living here! have you forgotten already?!" he yelled back. just how much nerve did this woman have?

"oh, how could i?", she sneered, "i just don’t understand why are you interrupting my relaxation time!"

"actually, you just interrupted my relaxation time. i was trying to get some shut-eye, but you come here screaming at me as if i am on your balcony!"

kuroo felt like a ten year old, bickering with some girl over a stuffed toy. her behavior was ridiculous, yes. however, he was acting absurd too. at the end of the day, they were on the same level of idiocy.

"hmph! whatever. you’ll get scared off by the mosquitoes anyway," y/n barked, "you city folk always end up crying and screaming whenever a bug comes near you! oh, no, a moth! ahh, ahh! a wasp just stung me! am i gonna die?!" she exclaimed in an overly dramatic way, flailing her arms around in a rather exaggerated imitation of people from the cities.

kuroo almost let out a laugh. almost. he had to admit- even though y/n was beyond annoying, she also had an amusing side to her. nonetheless, he wouldn’t let her have that one.

"and do i look scared of bugs right now? they’re harmless, you know. or maybe you’re speaking from your own experience?" he quickly snapped back, forcing his face not to form a smile.

"what? i used to catch bugs all the time when i was a kid!" she retaliated, furrowing her eyebrows.

kuroo leaned on the barrier, studying y/n’s face. the girl looked worn as well, yet she didn’t seem like giving up. her cheeks were hot, and she was still bustling with energy. that only reminded him of how much he wished to rest.

"you know what?", kuroo began in a much more laid back tone, "i’ll let you have that balcony for tonight, but only because i’m too tired to put up with you. goodnight."

he turned on his heel and went inside. a short "wait, i’m not done with you!" could be heard before he shut the door close.

the man clicked his tongue with irritation, rolling his eyes. y/n seemed to dislike him, even though she practically didn’t know him.

if he could describe her, he’d say she was full of herself and selfish. she probably looked down on everybody and was actually from a rich family, or something of the sort.

but… since y/n was helping his grandmother she couldn’t have been that bad. he remembered how eager she appeared, a big grin plastered on her face as the girl handed the vegetables to the older woman.

the bounce in her walk and slightly disheveled hair. stained sundress. the bag she carried around with various keychains, jingling whenever she moved.

yeah, she surely wasn’t that bad.

kuroo shook his head, getting rid of the weird train of thoughts that were spinning inside his mind. he paid a quick visit to his grandma’s room, wishing her goodnight before going to shower.

after his whole body was free of any grime, he changed into some fresh clothes he could sleep in. then he lied down inside his bed, turning off any lights. the man inhaled with ease, already sensing a difference between city and countryside air. the sheets smelled nice, soothing him into a more serene state.

he glanced at the clock for the last time before closing his eyes. it was 10 pm.

that night, kuroo slept for full four hours.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐 🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚

notes: aaand that is the end! i’m aware that the intro was very long, but i wanted to cover everything before i got to the main part of the story. this chapter was kuroo-focused, but i’ll try to shift the perspective if needed.

also english is not my first language (as you probably can tell) so i apologize for any grammar mistakes or misused words.

[brrbrina]

Just want to request prompt #16, maybe where the reader was super busy and tired and wasn’t able to do any of the chores. However Joe also had a long day but he wanted to do the chores for the reader to take off some stress from her. Something like that filled with fluff 😚❤️

warnings: none

You came home extremely tired from work, ever since you were tiny you dreamt of a flower shop. After you went away to college and came back you earned a little money you decided to open it, later on your journey you met Joe, he was there picking lilies for his mom on Mother´s day and he kept showing up every week until he ran out of excuses to give flowers for his mom

"You know I can physically see you thinking of something to say when you order these flowers right?" you said looking at him and you saw his eyes smile for the first time "Well, I love giving my mom flowers is that a bad thing?" "No it isn´t, that´s actually really sweet," you said on the other side of the counter "How can I help you today Joe?" you said smiling "Can I have your number? I would love to take you out on a date?" he said hopping you didn´t had a boyfriend -which you didn't- but to him it was impossible, you were gorgeous and the times you had talked you were as sweet as pie.

It´s safe to say you went on a date with him, and three years later you had your first and only child -until now - a little baby boy with the biggest blue eyes ever, he looked exactly like his dad you were crying tears of joy when you saw him for the first time.

Joe was an excellent father, boyfriend and above all he was an impeccable man, he loved spending his nights in and taking care of you and your little one, even though you didn´t plan on having a kid so soon, it happened and you were sure you were made to be his mom and he was made to be your son. And Joe loved it, he loved the fact that he could teach him the same things his dad reached him, but deep down he was born to be a girl dad, there wasn´t a single day where he didn't wonder about his life having a little girl

"We´ve talked about this before Joe, Jack is still so little and I´m focused on the flower shop, the off-season it´s the only time you are here 24/7 and I don´t blame you it´s your job but you have to understand that I have my dreams as well" you said putting the dishwasher on, as much as you loved being a mom, it wasn´t in your plans soon, "I have told you a hundred times I make enough money for us, you can stay here and watch our children, and, " Joe said but you stopped him, it was getting in your nerves he couldn´t take a no for an answer "This isn´t about me needing your money, you had a dream when you were a kid and you worked hard for it, you got it, and you´re living your dream, this is about me and what I need to do because I owe myself this, and I´m not ready to be a mom again, the last pregnancy was on the season and I hated being alone, I can do this again, you said walking out of the kitchen going upstairs to take a shower, you had been working all day and the last thing you wanted was to take out your anger on him.

When you came out of the shower and made your way to your bed you saw that Joe wasn´t there, he knew he had done wrong so he gave you space, and as much as you would love for him to come back to you you saw him sleeping with Jack on his bed, the bed was so tiny and Joe was so big it made you giggle.

The next morning he left for practice and he dropped Jack off at school, it was a weird feeling because you didn´t want him near you, you just wanted to be alone, you loved your kid, but being a mom can be an exhausting job.

A few hours had passed and the doorbell on the flower shop was ranged "Can I get a big bouquet of peonies?" he was standing there, with your favorite matcha latte and his sorry eyes, "Sure, do you want to write a note?" you said not making eye contact with him "Yes I want to write I´m sorry, I´m the world´s worst boyfriend please" he said trying to make you look at him, "Joe" you said but he interrupted "I´m sorry, I know I went too far, this is your dream and you´re pretty good at it, to be honest" and you punched him on the arm as he laughed "C´mon let´s go pick up Jack" you said telling the girls on the flower shop you were leaving, you rarely did this but there wasn´t any jobe due that day and you needed your family.

Later that day you were on the couch watching Cars with Jack and while you were falling asleep you heard Joe whisper "I forgot to add in the note that you´re the hottest MILF ever" he said kissing your ear but you decided to just close your eyes and go to sleep.

a/n: I know this isn´t exactly what you asked for but i got carried away writing this one and tbh i´m falling asleep writing this lol BUT I loved writing this, hopefully, i´ll get out of my writers block and give you the last chapter of fwd series :)

[letshavedeernnertogether]

Let us make this dance properly

Charlie gathered everybody in the main living-room. It was the usual place to discuss the princess's plans about rehabilitation of sinners. This time she wanted to make a new exercise with the purpose to know each other better and to have fun.

Not everyone was excited with this idea; to be honest, all the residents, excpect Vaggie, didn't find any of Charlie's idea good or useful. But they still did everything she asked. And this time wasn't exclusion.

She looked around everyone with a shining gaze, and asked the residents to tell everybody about their favorite activities.

Angel started, "I love to fu-!"

"I swear, if you say it, I will fucking kill you!" Husk exclaimed.

You chukled. Angel always said something lewd, and it made you laugh. But you laughed even more, when Husk tried to shut him up. They were just adorable.

"What? Charlie asked and I answered!" he threw up his hands.

Husk only sighted heavily with a growl.

"And what do you like to do, huh?" asked Angel. "I bet you'll say "to get drunk", right?"

Husk nodded.

Charlie forced a smile and said, "Well, maybe somebody else wants to express their opinion?"

You didn't like to share you mind, but you didn't want to make Charlie upset either.

"Well, I'm not really into any activities, but I do like dancing" you said.

Vaggie looked at you with gratitude. There was at least one person who didn't make jokes about Charlie's offers.

"That's great!" said the princess with a big smile, so you could see her white snow fangs. "Everybody loves dancing!"

You knew that dancing is the thing that almost every resident liked: Charlie, Angel, you, and maybe Husk too. And of course Alastor. It was his favorite thing to do after murdering and cooking somebody. He was a great dancer as you heard, and you dreamt about having a dance with him one day. It wouldn't be impossible as you were pretty old-fashioned and liked the same dance styles, that were popular at his time. You blushed every time thinking about dancing at least shag with him.

You cautiously looked at Alsor, who stood near the sofa, where you were sitting. He was looking at you slightly covered eyelids and smiling.

Yeah, you dreamt of dancing with him, but there was no right time.

But maybe tonight?

Then Charlie clapped and exclaimed, "I have an idea! Let's teach each other our favorite dance! I'm sure it'll be interesting!"

Everybody considered for a moment and nodded.

Everybody went to the ball room. It was the biggest room in the hotel. Pale pink wallpaper, golden colomns and chandeliers.

Sir Pentious started. He asked you all to stand in two ranks. Charlie and Vaggie were inseparable, so they stood next to each other. Angel stood opposite Charlie, and Husk opposite Vaggie. You stood near Husk, and opposite you stood Alastor. Niftty stood beside you.

"We're going to dancccccce Mr. Beveridge's Maggot! " exclaimed Sir Pentious.

"What?!" you thought. Didn't you mishear? A Jane fucking Austen's dance?!

And what is even more important, was Alastor your partner?

Sir Pentious asked to turn on the music, and Alastor made his radio play load some classical music.

Sir Pentious explained the main thing about this dance and how to move. He stood opposite Niffty, and you began to dance.

Not everything worked out the first time. You missed your partners, your backs collided, somebody took an extra step because of which everyone was confused. But Sir Pentious had enough patience to be a good teacher, and after a while you danced a pretty good Mr. Beveridge's Maggot dance.

After you'd finished the dance Sir Pentious said with the tears in his eyes, "so sssssweet!"

While dancing you understood how really good was Alastor at it. He understood all Pentious's instructions the first time. And you noticed that it was comfortable for you to dance with him. Of course, you said you liked dancing, but, to say the truth, you were terribly shy. You never danced on public, prefering to dance just by yourself. You even waltz in your room all alone sometimes. But you thought it would be nice to find somebody one day whom you won't be afraid to dance.

"It was a pleasure to dance with you, dear" said Alastor, making you blush.

"Um, thank you. I liked dancing with you too!" you said and smiled.

He was looking at you with a softer smile that you'd ever seen on him.

The next dancing lesson wanted to make Angel. Of course, he wanted to teach you all how to make the most seductive movements, but Alastor just couldn't find appropriate music on the radio (or he just didn't want to find it), and Angel decided to sing a melody and show you the movements. (Thanks goddess it wasn't something too obscene, just slow swing of your hips and beautiful movements with your hands.)

Alastor was pretty confused with such a kind of dancing, but you couldn't help but notice that he was actually good at this one too. And the way his hips were moving side to side...

Well, you better to turn away before your turned out as red as his suit.

Now was your turn.

"Well, find a partner at first."

Vaggie and Charlie looked at each other, and Vaggie asked you, if it wouldn't be like the first dance?

The girls still were a little bit upset that they weren't actual partneres in the first dance.

"It will be similar to a waltz, so don't worry", you responded.

Charlie happily took Vaggie's hand, making her smile soft.

Angel came closer to Husk and smiled. The cat-demon rolled his eyes but didn't go away.

Niffty looked at Alastor, but he shook his head, so she was Sir Pentious's partner again.

"Well, Alastor is enough with modern dancing," you thought.

"The name of the dance is foxtrot." you noticed how Alastor pricked up his ears and tilted his head. Yes, he was actually interested in.

You continued, "There are two type of it: quickstep and slowfox. We're going to dance slowfox."

"As I mentioned before, it is similar to waltz but much smoother. Also the rhythm is different."

You stood your back to others and stretched your arms out in front of you, bending them at the elbows.

"Well, I'll be on the place of the one who's being led in dance. You need to make a step with your right foot back. Then a step back with your left foot. Step right and slightly back with your right foot. And then place your left foot next to your right one and take a full step to the right."

Everybody repeated your movements slowly, and you were glad, everyone succeeded in it.

"Ha-ha my dear!" you heard Alaslor laughing and frozen.

Suddenly he appeared before you and came closer.

"You're so funny, trying to waltz without a partner ha-ha-ha!"

You felt that your cheeks became red of shame and anger.

Alasor leaned over to you, "Don't frown, my dear," he placed your hands on his shoulders. "Let us make this dance properly."

He snaped his fingers, and the room was filled with slow jazz; several candels dipped.

He made a step onward, you made a step back and throw your head back. His hand barely touched your shoulder-blade, just enough you could place your hand on his shoulder. Moving your feet at the beat of music, your hips touched. He was gentler than you expected. He tenderly made you follow his steps hardly touching you. It felt like being a cloud driven by wind.

You whirled in dancing; two circles before you bend back; then he swayed you side to side; then again steps when your hips touched, that made you breathe deeper.

And you stopped.

He pulled you closer to him. Your breath became faster because of dancing, but his stamina was better then yours, and his breath almost hadn't changed.

"My, my, what a nice dancer you are," he said to you. "But a little bit shy, don't you think so?" he leaned to you and smiled wider.

He removed his hand from you back, but your palm was still in his one.

"I don't dance very often, and I usually don't have a partner, so... I'm just not sure about the movements I make," you mumbled.

"I know what can help you," he leaned even closer, "Maxixe," he whispered.

Now you were sure you'd become as red as his suit!

All the candles were lighted up again.

He drew himself up to his full height and exclaimed to everybody, "Now everyone! I'm going to teach you the most popular among the most scandalous dance of the 1920's!" he adjusted his monocle, "One man said, it is the easiest dance of all to do, and yet the hardest of all to do well!"

Everybody were intrigued, and you were the only one who was afraid.

To dance maxixe with him?! One of the hottest dances of his time? And he offered it himself? Just unbelievable! It must have been a dream!

Alastor tuned up the radio and found fast piano melody. All the pairs were the same. Only Sir Pentious got tired and was sitting on a coach, so did Niftty.

You've never allowed yourself to even dream of dancing something like this with Alastor. But now you stand together. Your hands in his; you back is lead against his chest; he makes steps forward slightly touching your knees; his breath is in your hair, and you feel how his heart beats.

It was better then any dream you could imagine. In your dreams you couldn't feel the touches, the breath, the fabric. But now you felt all of this.

You were swaying like in waltz, leaning together in direction of your moving, making funny steps forward on your heels. Then he turned you your back to him, placed his hand on your stomach and leaned against you. Swaying again.

You couldn't find a place for yourself at first and was blushing all the time. But very soon you understood how good it felt to dance with him. So you relaxed and let your body move to the rhythm of the piano.

Alastor turned you to face him and raised your hand high. You put your hand on his waist.

You both were dancing and smiling without noticing the others. They'd ended with maxixe and were dancing what they liked. Husk was leading Angel and sharply turning him round. Charlie and Vaggie were dancing a simple waltz. Sir Pentious, having already rested, joined a dance with Niftty.

Was it the most delightful evening in the hotel since you'd been here? Exactly.

But nothing can last forever.

When the music stopped Alastor stood beside you. Charlie thanked everyone for participation.

Now it was very late, and you all had to go to your badrooms.

On the way to your room you heard some static noise in the air and stopped. You felt like somebody was staring at you. You turned back and saw Alastor. He smiled at you soft.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, my dear, but I couldn't let you go without saying how much pleasure you showed me tonight."

He came closer.

"I hope that one day you'll do me the honour of dancing with you again, my dear."

Astonishment, shock, unbelief, fear and at last happiness. You felt all of this just in one second.

"Sure!" you answered, slightly jumping up and pressing your hands to the chest. You didn't say anything else because you believed that Alastor would understand everything by your smile and eyes. And he did.

He had never seen before your smile so wide and your eyes so bright. He understood what did you feel.

Both of you were standing in silence for a while, looking at each other and smiling.

"Goodnight, then?" you said.

"Goodnight, ma chère" answered Alasor and headed for his room.

Definitely, it was your best day at the hotel.

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 3: I'm Still Not Sure What I Stand For

Summary: Theo makes a decision. The Avengers meet a prospective new member.

Author's Notes: Hey look, it's the chapter that has the first snippet I posted back in like, February! This song is split between two chapters, otherwise it would be a 10k chapter... next chapter (again, already written!) will likely come on Saturday, 10/28.

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog (less than 100 followers, haha) and reblogs really help me out <3

Content Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3,957

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Some Nights - fun.

Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck Some nights, I call it a draw Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know anymore

If there was anything Theo could count on, it was that her cousin Max would inevitably disapprove of almost all of Theo’s life choices.

“Are you insane ?” The tenor of her cousin’s voice blared through the speaker, furious about the news she shared. “Seriously Leenie, you know you’re insane, right?”

“Sometimes, that’s all I have to give me comfort.” Theo drawled, cradling her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she packed her apartment up. “Max, don’t you get it? They’re alive - this is our chance!”

“No, no, no –” he retorted, “things are perfectly fine right now! There is no reason for us to go digging up the skeletons we buried -”

“Why are you so upset about this?” She said, rolling her eyes. “You literally have nothing to lose - if this works, we get our lives back. If this doesn’t work, we will stay here and nothing changes!”

“I have nothing–” A strangled groan came from the other side of the phone. “You are impossible, Leenie! What are the others going to think? What’s Mémère going to think? You’re putting all of us at risk–”

“Mémère has been pestering me to help with the shadow creature problem anyways,” Theo interrupted, “and might I remind you that between the two of us, I’m the one who has the authority to make this sort of decision.”

“I can’t – I can’t believe you,” Max sputtered; Theo could picture him walking around his house, flailing his arms in exasperation as she refused to back down on her plan. “After everything we sacrificed to get here, you’re going to risk ruining it for them?” 

“They’re my family, you asshole,” Theo snapped, “and until two nights ago, I thought they were dead. I thought I would never see them again, and I would never see my home again, but now there’s a possibility I can have my life back! So yes, I am willing to risk everything!” Staring at the half-filled boxes around her, Theo sighed; a pang of nostalgia surged through her chest at the thought of seeing the constellations that filled her childhood in something other than her dreams. “Max, they can put an end to all of this - don’t you want to go home?”

For years, Theo had dreams where she experienced the world through her sister’s perspective, but until she found out her sister was alive Theo assumed that was all they were: dreams. Her mind playing tricks on her, making her feel connected to people who hadn’t walked the earth in a long time. It wasn’t hard to rationalize - lots of people dreamt about loved ones after they passed. 

However, if it was true - if they were really alive… Maybe they weren’t just dreams. Maybe she was still connected with them and seeing what they saw. Maybe her sister was staring at the skies like they used to, remembering the tales she told Theo when they’d sneak out late at night to escape the times when it all felt like too much.

Even if Theo had seen the world through Rae’s eyes, she wondered what Rae looked like after all the time that had passed. Was she still as lean as Theo remembered, with sharp cheeks and piercing amethyst eyes that saw through everything? Was her nose still hooked ever-so-slightly? 

A shaky exhale came through the other end of the phone.

“This is our home now, Leens -” Max softened his tone, “I know you miss them, but even if it’s true that they are alive, how do you know they aren’t choosing to stay there? How do you know they would even want to help? Or that it would work?”

“Max, there’s no reason to believe they wouldn’t try to find me again - they’re my family ,” Theo protested, pinching the bridge of her nose with irritation at Max’s very blatant disapproval of her decision. “Look, I get it - after all this time it’s scary to think about the possibility that we gave up hope when they were still alive and we resigned ourselves to being refugees. But wouldn’t you rather know for sure than sit here wondering what if ?”

Theo continued haphazardly tossing items into boxes - she had to have everything ready for moving into the tower. Movers would be coming in a week, and she would have to say farewell to the brownstone she’d called home for so long.

The thought of leaving her little borough was tough to swallow - what would she do when she couldn’t stop into the bodega on her way home from work and tease Carlos about the girl who kept coming in to buy stuff just to talk to him? There was no way the Avengers ever went to bodegas when they needed something, much less talked to normal people. It seemed like they were locked up in their tower whenever they weren’t making appearances or going on flashy missions. They probably had cleaning staff and a chef that they interacted with, but beyond the staff it was difficult to imagine the Avengers living normal lives and running their own errands.

God, if Tony Stark was as obnoxious and boisterous as he seemed, being locked in a tower with him would absolutely result in Theo committing murder… 

Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this. 

But if it meant she could be reunited with her family, if they could finally go home and rebuild… Maybe she could hold off on murdering the Avengers’ sugar daddy.

“I can’t stop you from doing this, can I?” 

Max’s voice snapped Theo back to the present.

“No, you can’t.” Theo shook her head, adjusting how she cradled the phone so she could tape a box closed. “I gave SHIELD my terms today and they accepted. Whether you like it or not, I’m going. You’re second in command while I’m gone - you know that, right?” 

“Fucking insane,” Max muttered, “This is fucking insane.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first thirty times.” Theo replied, rolling her eyes yet again.

“Fine, fine! I will try to keep Mémère in line and make sure shit doesn’t implode,” Max relented, “You have to tell the council though - I do not condone this whatsoever.”

Fuck, Theo forgot about the council.

“Chill out - I’m sure Mémère already told them.” 

Well, she was assuming, but they’d find out one way or another. After all, there was going to be a press conference to announce her new role upon completion of SHIELD’s onboarding process, so it wasn’t like it was going to be a secret.

Max’s frustration meant the conversation didn’t last much longer; then again, it wasn’t like there was much else for the two to discuss. If anything, she was a bit relieved to be done talking to him, even if he was family.

The moment Max was no longer on the phone, Theo let out an exhausted sigh.

Maybe Max was right - maybe she was getting caught up in this for nothing. Maybe she wouldn’t get to them in time. Maybe it was actually a lie after all. Maybe this would re-open old wounds. Maybe she would be killed before finding anything. Maybe…

Wings flapping brought Theo’s attention to her open window. A pair of black, beady eyes stared at her, iridescent feathers shimmering in the light from Theo’s apartment.

Not a crow - too big to be a crow. The beak wasn’t like a crow’s, and the feathers around it were far more pronounced. 

Definitely a raven.

Ravens weren’t common in urban areas, and seeing one on its own? 

Well, if that wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. 

This is it, boys, this is warWhat are we waiting for?Why don't we break the rules already?I was never one to believe the hypeSave that for the black and whiteTry twice as hard, and I'm half as likedBut here they come again to jack my style

“Dr. Theolene Amaris,” Nick Fury’s voice rang out in the meeting room as a picture of a lithe woman appeared on screen. “ - also known as the Silver Shadow, the Celestial Phantom, and the Cursed Moon.”

It was only a few hours earlier that everyone was notified of the mandatory briefing, which was described as “urgent.” 

Moments before, Loki found himself pondering the nature of the briefing while everyone packed into a bright conference room. In front of each Avenger, a manila file folder sat prepared for them with information related to the subject in question.The faces of his team members shifted as they developed their first impressions on the subject of their briefing, her likeness blown up on the screen at the front of the room. 

Despite exceeding the capacity of the space, Loki managed to secure his usual seat in the back, conveniently located near the door for an easy escape. It was a habit that lingered from his earlier days in the tower, but having an easy escape from what were normally tedious meetings was still a benefit that Loki took advantage of more often than not. Even better, there was an empty seat next to him, lessening the otherwise inevitable sense of claustrophobia that would have eventually reared its ugly head.

She really didn’t look like much. The only noteworthy feature in her appearance was the thick mane of silver hair that tumbled down her back, stopping just above her waist. Otherwise, she appeared to be like any other Midgardian: clad in all-black, a beanie atop her head with black sunglasses obscuring her features as she walked down the street. If Loki passed her in real life, there was no way he’d offer her a second glance, or even a first.

With that in mind, it was safe to assume that in this first image, she was practicing urban camouflage – blending in with her surroundings by altering her appearance and attire to mimic those around her. The less attention she drew to herself, the easier it would be to slip in and out unnoticed; it also created an additional challenge if anyone sought to locate her. As someone who’d had plenty of experience with stealth, Loki already had an idea of what her skill sets may include.

Stark studied the first image of her, brow furrowed as he spoke up. “Hell of a name, but she doesn’t look like much. What’s her doctorate in? Bad poetry? Sad music? Scaring parents?”

“Emergency Medicine.” Fury glared at Stark while Agent Hill changed the display to a second photograph. “Assuming she isn’t a serious threat is both the first and last mistake you’ll make about her.”

The second image must have been captured in combat. She crouched down as though she just landed from a maneuver, the obsidian hood of a frayed cloak masking the top half of her face as she held a black longsword composed entirely of what appeared to be magic in one hand. Her other hand radiated with darkness as it touched the ground, ready to launch some kind of spell. Blood smeared across her jawline, a scowl across her lips as a pair of corpses lay in the background. Unlike the first photo, now he could see a scar that ran down past the bottom of her lip, almost giving her the appearance of a permanently split lip. A second scar cut through the outside edge of her eyebrow, angling out towards her temple.

One detail piqued his interest: of all the realms that Loki had visited, he did not recognize where she was. He had to give it to Fury – this picture certainly made her appear far more intimidating.

“She specializes in shadow magic—“

The room erupted as all the Avengers fired off questions at the director.

“Shadow magic? Wait, is she the one behind those shadow beast-things we’ve been fighting lately?”

“What does she want?”

“Is she working for Dr. Doom?”

“Did HYDRA give her those powers?”

“What kind of villain studies emergency medicine?”

“Maybe this will help explain things.” Agent Hill tapped a screen as the image before them went to a video.

Loki had seen this video before - it was nearly impossible to miss, having been plastered all across the news for weeks. A Midgardian woman single-handedly eliminated an entire swarm of the shadowy monsters that had plagued New York City recently, all while in a subway car. Somehow, no one knew who she was or the methods used to exterminate the pests. It was obvious from the video that it was magic of some kind, though it was different from any magic Loki had ever encountered in his life and it did not resemble anything he had ever studied. Though he hadn’t admitted it to anyone, he was curious to meet this Midgardian and learn her abilities for himself.

Of course, that was assuming she was Midgardian. There were many species who appeared to be Midgardian, though biologically they were different. Usually, it was easy for Loki to sense if someone was Aesir, Midgardian, or otherwise; however, no indication that she was anything extraterrestrial revealed itself to him.

No, this woman must have been Midgardian. 

“That’s her?” Romanoff inquired, arching a perfectly groomed brow at Hill. 

“Wait wait wait , I thought she was the bad guy, but she’s killing the shadowy monsters here…” Wilson said, gawking at the screen. “Unless she’s really crazy and likes killing her own, this doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m telling you, if she’s the big bad and studied Emergency Medicine, she’s definitely got a screw loose,” Barnes said, “and that’s coming from the guy with a vibranium arm.”

“This incident was weeks ago - how is it that we are just now learning of her identity?” Rhodes interjected.

“She is not our enemy,” Agent Hill finally explained, raising her voice over the incessant chatter. “She has agreed to help the Avengers find the root cause of the shadow creature problem and exterminate the beasts.”

Stunned silence permeated the room. The ticking of the clock above Fury’s perpetual scowl only emphasized the blaring lack of sound. 

Loki could count on one hand the number of times he had ever witnessed total silence from the group; to see the group go from so animated to so silent nearly gave him whiplash.

“She’s joining the Avengers?” Stark’s disbelief was painted all over his face. “Emo queen Rapunzel is joining the Avengers?”

“Not exactly,” Agent Carter said, “She is coming on board specifically to help with the shadow creatures.”

“If she’s so powerful, why isn’t she already a part of the Avengers?” Banner asked, leaning in as he met Fury’s glare.

“This is a temporary arrangement.” Fury crossed his arms. “We struck a deal with her.”

“So she comes in and helps with the shadow creatures, and then what - she just disappears?” Captain Rogers pressed, “Don’t you think someone with expertise in shadow magic should be kept under close watch?”

“You’d be a fool to think she hasn’t been on SHIELD’s radar for a long time.” Fury crossed his arms and glowered at the group. “She turned down past offers to join the Avengers. Your mission is to convince her to stay.”

“Convince her to stay?” Romanoff shot Fury a wary glance, while others regarded the director as though he grew another head. 

“Assuming all goes well, we want her to remain on the team after the shadow creatures are eliminated,” Agent Hill explained. “She is highly adept in both physical and magical combat, and she has expertise in stealth operations. She fills in some key areas of the team that have been lacking, while her versatility allows her to fit into a variety of smaller teams with ease. However, we need you to convince her to stay.”

“Dr. Amaris cut her teeth in a different realm,” Fury added. “She has trained with threats far more powerful than what we have encountered here on earth, and fought to survive in far worse scenarios. Her experiences and insight would be invaluable in our operations.”

“Okay, but if you had to strike a deal with her, that still raises some questions…” Banner hesitated, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “It makes it sound like she wasn’t exactly keen to help protect the world.”

“Her skills are far too valuable to not be utilized.” Fury glared at Banner. “What I was going to say before someone interrupted my briefing is that she is also an incredibly powerful healer.“

“How do we know we can trust her?” Wilson asked. “I’m no wizard, but shadow magic sounds like trouble at best.”

Barton agreed. “Besides, Nat has us covered in stealth.”

“You know how to make a woman feel appreciated.” Romanoff coyly winked at Barton. 

While Loki wasn’t one to regularly agree with Wilson, for once he made a good point: this was something Loki was unfamiliar with, and at the very least it sounded dubious. 

“Because if I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.”

Every head in the room snapped towards the entrance, eyes wider than dinner plates as they gawked at the source of the voice.

Leaning against the closed conference room door was the subject of their briefing. In real life, Theolene Amaris was smaller than Loki expected - not short by any means, as she appeared to be slightly taller than Maximoff and Romanoff; she was probably the average height for a Midgardian woman. However, she was lanky, with elongated limbs and a slight figure. She carried her head high with relaxed posture, one leg crossed in front of the other as she leaned on the doorframe with hands loosely tucked in her pockets. She didn’t seem to be intimidated by the strong personalities in front of her, even as she crashed their briefing.

Dr. Amaris sauntered into the room, eyes scanning over each of the Avengers with a smirk on her face. When she reached Loki she paused, quirking her head to the side as the curl of her lips increased. “Looks like one of us might need to change.”

At first, Loki was perplexed by her remark. Upon a second glance, it became obvious. They both wore almost identical outfits: black button-up shirts with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, tucked into tailored black trousers that showed a bit of ankle, and black Oxford shoes. 

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, a smile creeping across his own features as he allowed his shoulders to relax. 

It was unusual for someone to make him laugh, especially on a first encounter. And to shock the Avengers in such a way? Well, he certainly was intrigued.

“It seems we have similar tastes in apparel,” Loki commented coolly, wondering about the nature of her remark. 

Just then, Theo pulled a hand out of her pocket and snapped her fingers, instantly changing her outfit into a pair of ripped black jeans, a faded gray shirt emblazoned with some sort of sigil and the word “Queen,” and a pair of black sneakers. 

Loki could feel the magic pouring off of her - while she was no god, it was apparent to him that Fury wasn’t kidding when he said she was much more powerful than she let on.

“There, that’s better.” She dropped into the seat beside Loki, leaning back and kicking her feet up onto the table before sticking out one hand. “You must be Loki?”

“Indeed, and you must be Dr. Amaris.” Loki offered a wry grin, shaking her hand with a firm grip. “A fellow sorcerer, I see.”

“You could say that,” She winked, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “Call me Theo. Dr. Amaris is what my residents call me.”

From the opposite side of Theo, Thor beamed at the sight of his brother being surprisingly friendly to the Avengers’ newest addition. 

It took every ounce of self-restraint for Loki to prevent himself from rolling his eyes at his older brother. “Pleasure to meet you, Theo.” 

“Don’t get any funny ideas with Rapunzel here, Reindeer Games.” Stark warned, apparently having already settled on a nickname for the newest team member. 

Loki’s attention diverted to Stark, sending invisible daggers at the man. Even though they had come a long way from the distrust present when Loki first joined the team, there were certainly still moments where Stark got on his nerves.

This time it was Theo’s turn to snort. 

“Rapunzel? That’s the best nickname you’ve got, Tin Man?” Theo cocked one eyebrow at the billionaire as she laughed, brushing a piece of hair over her shoulder. “I may have long hair, but good luck with trying to lock me up in this tower.” 

“Watch out, or I might invent something so I can–”

“-- Then again, you named your AI system FRIDAY, so I shouldn’t be surprised,” She continued, unfazed by Stark’s threat. “Seriously, what the hell kind of name is that?”

“Says the person named Theolene...” 

“First of all, I just told you - I go by Theo, not Theolene. Second, I can’t help it that my mother has terrible taste in names. Third, Loki’s helmet has horns, not reindeer antlers. For a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist , you should know the difference.” Theo turned to the other Avengers. “And while I’m correcting people, I don’t specialize in shadow magic. I specialize in celestial magic, of which shadow magic is a subset. Dr. Doom is a joke, HYDRA wishes they gave me these powers, and my refusal to become an Avenger has nothing to do with a lack of desire to protect people, it’s because I don’t want to spend my time playing superhero when I can be more useful as a doctor. Although whichever one of you suggested I had a screw loose - Bucky, I believe? - was probably right. At least, my cousin would agree with you. He’s pissed that I agreed to this.”

For the second time in mere minutes, the entirety of the Avengers were stunned into silence. If there were two words that best described the collective response, “utter bewilderment” would be Loki’s choice. 

“Wait a minute—“ Wilson blurted out, “How long have you been listening to our briefing? Have you been here this whole time?”

“Long enough to know you are just as skeptical of me as I am of you. It’s nothing personal, I know - I would be skeptical of me too! still, this has been enlightening.” Theo rose to her feet, gliding back to the entrance. She spun around, bowing with a dramatic flourish while flashing a cheshire grin at the crowd. “See you next Monday for your press conference!”

With a flick of her wrist, a series of black runes appeared all over her arms, flowing down her limbs like a stream of water. When they reached her fingertips, they rose into the air and evolved, surrounding her until she was obscured from view; in a flash of white, she disappeared, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer. The entire process took at most a few seconds, but the effect lingered far longer. 

It was a finale to the encounter that was almost as dramatic as her introduction.

If Loki’s instincts were correct, she was just getting started.

And that's alright (That's alright) I found a martyr in my bed tonight She stops my bones from wondering Just who I, who, I, who I am Oh, who am I? Mmm, mmm...

[songsformonkeys]

Saying I love you with a letter (Ezra x reader)

Month: May

Word count: ~900

Warnings: ANGST, mcd

Notes: You receive a letter from Ezra.

I don't know exactly what happened here. I was in the grumpiest of moods and needed to write something before the end of June. And I did...technically. Oh well... everyone needs something to be the laziest and worst thing they've written. This is probably mine.

The rest of the Year of Creation stories

@yearofcreation2023

~~~~~~

My dearest,

It's been a month since we parted ways. And I ache with every inch and second of that distance, lover.

I dreamt of you last night and I woke up this morning to the phantom sensation of your arm around my waist. I reached for your hand but ended up grasping at nothing but air. I begged for sleep to take me right back to dreamland, but she is a cruel bed companion, I'm afraid, and once I found myself awake, it was impossible to go back.

I'd like to think it was the real you. In the dream, I mean. That you dreamt of me too last night and that somehow that was enough for us to find each other. Is that foolish of me? Distance makes the heart grow fond, and drives the brain a little crazy, I think.

The moon we're at is beautiful like you wouldn't believe, sweetheart. They call her The Green Moon. A very apt name. She looked like an emerald in the void when our ship approached. She's hiding the largest treasure of Aurelac in the system, and guarding it with a deadly fierceness.

There's this... dust of sorts, some kind of spores, I believe. It's everywhere. Captain showed us pictures on the way over of different gruesome ways it can mess up the human body. I'll spare you the details. But don't you worry, lover, I'm careful, and this trusty suit ain't giving up on me anytime soon.

There are ten of us here, practically living in each other's pockets. And let me tell you that after a long day of harvesting, I'd just about be willing to trade one of my limbs for a reprieve from the unpleasantly potent smell of myself and my crewmates.

The crew is about as interesting as a crew of money-hungry desperate bastards can get. Not sure I trust any of them further than I can throw them. Except for maybe the one that doesn't speak. I dropped my rationed bits bar on the floor the other day, and couldn't eat it out of fear of dust contamination. Now, I was prepared to accept my fate and I even laughed along with the others at my misfortune. This guy, however, he doesn't laugh – not sure he even can – just breaks his own bar in two and hands me half. Says a lot about a man's character, that. Still don't know his name.

The work itself is not so bad. By no means the hardest I've labored. Harvesting Aurelac requires more finesse than brute force, which is a nice change of pace.

Some of the others are unhappy with the cut we're getting of the profits. Mostly the new recruits. I think the pay is decent enough, compared to what gigs such as these usually pay. Or perhaps me and the others who've been around know there's little to gain from complaining. Voice your displeasure enough and you'll soon find yourself overlooked when the next job rolls around. No one claims it's fair but them's the rules, and no one's ever heard of anybody getting rich off of prospecting.

How are things back home? I'm itching to hear some gossip about the new neighbors. Did you end up taking them up on their offer to help with the roof? I do feel bad for leaving you to deal with it all on your own. But you know I couldn't turn this job down. Not with all things considered.

I promise I'll make it up to you a thousand times over as soon as I am back! Not too long now, and I'm counting down the days.

I love you, sweetheart. More than words could possibly convey. Can't wait to be back in your arms again.

Yours forever,

Ezra

~~~~~~

You smooth your fingers lovingly over the familiar handwriting and only just resist the urge to bring the letter up to your face. It wouldn't smell like him anyway. Written a month after he left. Exactly one month after he left. You knew because you too had been counting the days, starting from the morning when he hugged and kissed you goodbye at the hangar.

You smooth your fingers over the paper. It's worn like it's been folded and unfolded countless times along the same creases.

One month after he left.

Three weeks before he was supposed to come back.

Your hands begin to tremble.

The young girl across from you at the table speaks up, voice a bit guarded like she's expecting you to lash out at her. Like perhaps that had been the default reaction of someone before you.

”I found this among his stuff... after...” she tells you. ”He never got a chance to send it, but I found it and I thought you deserved to have it.”

And with that, the last glimmer of hope flickers and dies in your heart, replaced in an instant by the cold hard truth.

Ezra isn't coming home.

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Appetites

It's been five years since the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable.

Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

(Angst and fluff and fluff and angst)

Read Chapter One on Ao3

Read Chapter Two on Ao3

or read chapter two below the cut

Elves didn’t sleep, and didn’t dream. Isolde didn’t know for certain if the ‘new monster’ that the elf Astarion had become could dream, but she had to assume that no, he didn’t. In the six months since he’d let her go, he wouldn’t have dreamt of it. 

But, Isolde did. 

Not every night, but often enough that she was sure she needed to address it, with someone. A cleric, maybe. Or an herbalist, or an alchemist.

The dream was a jumble of twisted representations of what had really happened, and what she imagined could have happened, and impossible, absurd things that would never happen on any plane of existence.

The party had still been going on when she left his chambers. Music and laughter warbled from the ballroom and light danced from under the doorways. The halls were deserted and dark, however. 

Perhaps, the darkness was an attempt to deter the Lord’s guests from venturing into other parts of the palace, but if that was the case, it hadn’t worked. She’d passed at least four different couples, and a rather involved group of three scarcely making themselves out of the way of any potential traffic.

No one stopped her, no one hardly looked at her. She made it outside and then the darkness and the indifference of Baldur’s Gate struck her like a cold threat. 

She ran. As he ordered.

She didn’t know where she was going. She couldn’t go back to the Baron’s manorhouse, couldn't go anywhere near her old masters. The void in front of her was so overwhelming, the despair of her fall so profound, that for a moment she had earnestly wanted nothing more than to find the vampire lord at her back. Maybe it was just a ploy, something he did for fun. He could still chase her down.

But he didn’t, and with time and reflection, she was glad to be alive. Eventually.

She remembered it all so vividly, and the dreams never got it right. Not all at once. Sometimes the palace filled with rivers of black water, and she couldn’t find the way out. Sometimes both her legs were broken and she got lost in the dark, crawling one fistfull of black silk at a time over the uneven breathing ground. 

Sometimes, Lord Astarion did chase her down. The streets of Baldur’s Gate were empty and he charged, or flew, took her to the ground, then he held her as sweetly as he’d done when she asked. She always woke up here, to her immense frustration; overwarm, ashamed, the afterimage of his beautiful face burned behind her eyelids. Somehow more alive than anyone, those red eyes delving deep as his kiss. 

If she could scare up a little privacy in the middle of the night, she’d try to take care of her needs, without waking anyone else in the servant’s quarters, but Baron Horrold didn’t provide for more than a few feet of space per servant.

She hadn’t gone to her old master’s enemy right away. She’d had to make herself presentable first and that took a few days. She robbed a collection and a careless merchant, and some clothing that just so happened to fit, after she couldn’t find a tailor who would let her into their establishment in her state. What friends she’d had would be better off assuming she was gone for now. No doubt, Baron De Cloyo had some yarn to spin about his horribly disloyal scullery maid who up and abandoned the household, thus sparing him the trouble of sacking and humiliating her.

Baron Horrold’s Household was better. It was difficult not to be. But in many ways, the families felt oddly interchangeable. The Barons had both grown up in the same circles, sons of wealthy merchants, married imported daughters of important dignitaries and had three rather loud and sensitive children who they neglected in every way but the material, and who would probably grow to be insufferable sometime in their twenties. They had both risen to power just in the last few years, after the wicked but brief Archduke Gortash culled the patriars and caused a mass reorganization of the Court, and the claiming of new titles and new opportunities. 

But, there was one crucial distinction between the families; the Baroness Horrold rather liked Isolde. She found her pretty in a nonthreatening way, and enjoyed watching her—she heard the Baroness say that to one of her sisters after they inquired why the scullery maid was now a housemaid, and finally a lady’s maid after just a few months of employment. Unheard of.

It helped that Isolde had a great many secrets about Baron De Cloyo to share. She hadn't said anything about Astarion. Horrold didn't know for certain that the Lord was a vampire, he just knew that De Cloyo claimed he was, and Isolde thought it was better to preserve that ambiguity. Instead, she simply told Horrold that De Cloyo had gotten upset with her and tried to kill her, so she'd fled. No need to mention Astarion at all.

And Horrold wasn't interested in details about that night anyway, but he was interested to know about De Cloyo’s business dealings and what lengths he went to in order to keep his affairs secret and his wife loyal.

Isolde wasn’t exactly proud of what she’d done to carve out a safe place for herself in Baldur’s Gate, but she did feel some satisfaction in her success.

She’d thought her life was over that night. She had every reason to believe she’d never see another sunrise.

And, honestly, she didn’t need a cleric, herbalist, or alchemist to tell her why she was having those dreams. She didn’t even need them to tell her why she enjoyed them. Why every night she had them, she hoped it wasn’t the last time. She’d already been traumatized long before Ferdinand Joerum, better known as the Baron De Cloyo, gave her to a self proclaimed monster to destroy her; to someone who carried that kind of pain, further trauma sometimes felt so right. Familiar. Cathartic. It was evidence that she saw the world as it was. She was right not to trust a safe place, or a kind word, or a promise.

Of course, she also liked the dreams because it was such a vivid way to recall Astarion. He’d been an unexpected fixation, for all the opposite reasons that she felt some familial peace of mind at her dark dreams. Astarion was so… wrong. Such a contradiction. A little evidence that maybe she was wrong, actually. Maybe there was still some sliver of hope in even the darkest soul?

Or, perhaps, she was just desperately lonely and a bit sick.

In any event, six months was a long time to think about one night, but she did still think of it, every day. For at least a moment. Sometimes, only a moment. Often, she thought of it just long enough to dwell on the memory of the strange, sad vampire who was never true.

On the morning of Baroness De Cloyo’s birthday, the Lady was in rare form. Not in a wholly positive way, unfortunately. A summons to Wyrm’s Rock had gone out to the nobility. Duke Ravenguard was still away, but Court business could not afford a delay. It was a distraction from the Baroness’ birthday, as was an engagement ball for one of the surviving Eltans, happening later that week. All things considered, the Barnoess ultimately had to graciously express a desire to have a quiet, modest little party with immediate family only. It would never have been her first choice, but to demand anything more would have been to “overburden the social calendar” as her husband put it.

The Baroness huffed and pitied herself as Isolde and her other Lady’s Maid, Mayrina, arranged her hair into an attractive pile of curls and braids wound through a silver circlet. “This will be your first day in Court, won’t it Isolde?” said the Baroness

“Oh, am I coming?” Isolde dropped a hairpin at the pang in her chest. Maybe she should have prepared herself for that possibility.

“You’d hardly abandon me when I’m so fragile,” the Baroness tsked. “You and Renald will accompany the Baron and I.” 

“As you say,” but Isolde was thinking of what could possibly keep her away. It needed to be something outside of both her control and the Baroness', so they could lament her absence together. Their youngest son had said he wasn't feeling well at breakfast that morning, perhaps Isolde could encourage him to confirm an illness.

“Dear Hywel will be there, and you know he’s quite fond of you.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Isolde abandoned her unformed plans of escape with an internal sigh. Hywel Dlusker was another of the surviving patriars from before the big cull. As far as people to be fond of her went, there was nothing really horrible about him. He came by the house fairly regularly, so she knew that he and the Baron had some business, and that was why his fondness of her felt suspicious. Hywel couldn’t possibly be serious about her. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to resign herself to just being a bit of fun for the young patriar traded for favors.

But, if the Lady was encouraging her to accept Hywel’s pursuit of her, she didn’t really have much of a say. It also meant that her attendance at Court would be a priority, for the household, if not for anyone else. She obviously wouldn't be allowed to participate or even be on record as an attendee, that wasn’t why the nobility brought their servants—but still, the Baroness needed her there. And if Hywel was there, then the Baron needed her there too. They maybe even needed that above leaving someone competent and unburdened with other duties to watch over a sick child.

Her anxiety grew as she saw what the Baroness had picked out for her to wear. It was too fine for a Lady’s maid, even one who needed to blend in at Court. It wasn’t conspicuous, exactly, but the gown was well-made, from more than decent material, and tailored to fit her as snugly as her uniforms, though none of her uniforms had a decolletage quite like this.

The one thing that made wearing the fine dress tolerable rather than embarrassing was that it was a muted gray, rather than something more ostentatious.

The Baroness clearly wanted it to be received as a gift, and so Isolde thanked her profusely, but as Mayrina helped her lace up the bodice, she couldn’t help but see it as silken wrapping paper.

To confirm this, the Baroness smiled and put a hand on her shoulder as she inspected her appearance. “He’ll like it.”

Having spent her entire life in the city, Isolde wasn’t familiar with Wyrm’s Rock, besides one rather melancholy memory from childhood. Before she’d lost her family, she’d made a friend who tried to take her into Rivington through Wyrm’s Rock. Her parents had both come after them and she was punished. She didn’t understand why they were so angry—generally speaking, she was free to run quite wild with the other children. Her mother seemed to think she wouldn’t be allowed back in, and her father humored that paranoia. She wished, as she’d gotten older, that she’d thought to ask more questions about that—about why it made her mother shake with rage and cry all night.

Long after everyone was gone and Isolde was on her own, she had seen Wyrm’s Rock become a barrier to the outside world. The kind her mother feared. But, that hadn’t lasted. It was just an old, imposing gateway again. Close up, the interiors were smaller than she’d imagined—or maybe just filled with hidden passageways. She lingered behind the Baroness and the Baron, Renald was old hat at this, so she watched him for her queues, anticipating where to step and how quickly, how to stay out of the way. But, even Renald commented on how crowded it was.

Isolde wished again that she could have found some avenue of escaping her obligation to be here. It was almost guaranteed that De Cloyo or his people would be present, and she’d so far managed to avoid revealing her miraculous survival to her old master.

Maybe the fancy dress and well coiffed hair would fool him into thinking she was someone else?

Could she claim to have a twin sister? She didn’t bother to bring this concern to Horrold’s attention, because he already knew all about it, so felt the conversation would probably just annoy him. 

He wasn’t worried about it, so she shouldn’t be—that would be his stance.

Then again, it was always possible he just hadn’t thought about it, because he didn’t think about her, at all. Gods, it was impossible talking to nobility. You could never tell them anything and expect them to take it well, unless you tricked them into thinking it was all their idea.

The Baroness and Baron stopped short as they entered the audience hall, and Isolde saw why with a sinking in her stomach.

De Cloyo was perched at the head of a small gathering of his friends nearby, and he’d looked up the moment they entered, right past the nobility, to the Lady’s Maid.

So much for not being recognized. But what made her blood ice over was the fact that he didn’t look remotely surprised to see her, instead, he wore a smirk. A little grin, prompted, she feared, by whatever expression she wore on her face.

To her immense relief, Renald stepped forward, placing himself very casually in front of her to block De Cloyo’s eyeline. She’d never talked to Renald about her time before coming to work for the Joerg Household, but Horrold must’ve told him, because he met her eyes and nodded curtly in solidarity. “You’ll be fine,” in spite of the protective gesture, his words were almost dismissive, like the matter was little more than a bit of vicious gossip, rather than the truth of having to confront someone who had wanted her dead.

Baron De Cloyo knew she was alive, and no one seemed surprised by that. With a little spark of rage she realized that the most likely reason was that Horrold himself probably told De Cloyo. The two of them had a similar, bad habit of using information they knew would upset the other in their little arguments. Even when giving that information away wasn’t safe, or wise. That was how she’d known about Astarion before meeting him, after all.

As their arrival was noted and the way shifted so they could make their way deeper into the audience hall, bodies rotated just enough that Isolde found De Cloyo again, still watching her openly, still smiling.

A high, hearty laugh drew her attention, in fact, half the chamber shifted their necks. She’d never heard Astarion laugh, but she somehow knew it was him before her party walked forward enough for her to see him there. Her heart leapt and slammed into her ribcage. She hadn’t even considered that the vampire lord might come. She assumed his dealings were more clandestine, by nature. Then again, he probably knew everyone in the Baldur’s Gate elite, so maybe his appearance was expected socially, if for no other reason.

Pointedly, she was sure, he stood under a shaft of sunlight coming in through the window. He was dressed like a prince, in gold and silver brocade with pale silk. He was apparently quite amused by something; he spoke to a most unexpected companion—not a patriar or one of the new nobles of the city, but a slight half-elven woman with sandy hair and a flaming fist’s uniform. 

The flaming fist’s warhammer clung to her back, but her stance gave no mind to the extra weight. She looked decidedly less amused than the vampire lord, though perhaps like she was fighting quite hard not to let the corner of her mouth turn up.

“Your friend is here,” the Baroness deigned to lean back and snag her attention. It took Isolde perhaps a beat too long to realize that she was talking about Hywel. Hywel stood far enough away that they couldn’t greet him casually just yet, not with the room as crowded as it was. He was with the other Dluskers who were keeping to themselves for the moment. “I don’t think I have to tell you to be very demure, and discreet.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

The Baron and Baroness took advantage of their early arrival to mingle with the other elite, while Isolde looked for her opportunity to be a dutiful servant and fulfill her Lady’s wishes. It wasn’t appropriate for her to approach Hywel, he had to come to her, but she knew that if he didn’t—even if he was explicitly prevented from doing so by outside forces, or seemed to be actively avoiding her—it would still be her fault if she missed the intended encounter.

She grew a little anxious as the minutes stretched on and he didn’t part from his peers or even look over in her direction. It couldn’t be too long before the Duke’s representative made themselves known and revealed the business at hand. Would she get the chance to speak to him later? Did the Baroness like her enough not to hold it against her if she did miss her chance? She doubted it.

At her back, a sunlit warmth brushed against her, and she turned to find the vampire, Lord Astarion.

“Hello, my dear,” he inclined his head, and to her surprise released a sheepish sigh. “I do hope it’s not too uncomfortable seeing me again, after all that unpleasantness.”

“You? No,” her chest fluttered a little again, she tried not to look too delighted at his approach. Surprise would be more demur . Isolde tilted her head in the direction of De Cloyo.

“Ah,” Astarion pulled a slight frown that somehow turned back into his crooked smirk by the time he met her eyes again. “Right. I did try and make up a nice gory retelling of your tragic demise to sate his imagination. He was rather disappointed to have missed it. About a week later he came barging into my private boudoir quite furious that you were still alive. No idea how he found out.”

“I have some idea,” Isolde took a quick moment to check the glaring corners of the audience hall around them. The Baron and Baroness hadn’t looked at her in several minutes. De Cloyo kept her in the corner of his eye. Hywel seemed to finally be growing bored of his little flock, but hadn’t moved away from them or looked at her.

“I’m surprised you stayed in the city.” Astarion was different from how she remembered him. She should have expected that. In the months since their brief, bizarre encounter, she was sure she would have imagined an idealized, and perfectly fictional version of Astarion to embelish a dark fantasy, and admittedly, to comfort herself. But in person she found that there were some enticing details she hadn’t remembered. 

His eyes were even more piercing in the daylight, somehow. His manner, more graceful. The way he spoke to her, fully engaged and focused, as though nothing else could draw him away. If she wasn’t careful, her delicate mind would take every soft look he gave her and dwell in the light of him. She already had to contend with the dangerous and admittedly warped vision of him as some diabolic angel who’d saved her, rather than a self-proclaimed monster, who simply hadn’t ended her life when given the chance.

“I wouldn’t have anywhere to go,” Isolde confessed. “But, all the same, I did consider it.” She’d also considered throwing herself in the Chionthar and breathing in.

“No distant relatives? A stately aunt with a little cottage and waterfalls of wisteria?” The way he said this struck her as odd, compared to his usual brash and insensitive insights and violent musings. Saccharine. Then again, perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was a little difficult to tell, as his mood was so changed from when she’d last seen him.

He seemed… maybe not happy, exactly, but energetic, in a way he hadn’t been the night they met. It might be a mask, for the public appearance, but if so, he wore it well.

“Nothing like that, no.”

“Pity.”

“But, I’ve never been anywhere. I think I should like to travel. Waterdeep. Neverwinter. Cormyr.”

“You’re clearly resourceful enough to make your own way,” Astarion gave her more credit than she was due. Why bother flattering her? It couldn’t be a genuine observation. Then again, maybe he was reading too much into her appearance at Court, her nice clothing, the image must be quite the contrast from the memory of her.

Isolde turned a little, to subtly gesture towards the Baron and Baroness with a slight bow. “I am not so much resourceful as aware of my very limited value, to a small number of people who may choose to help me. And I did need help.”

“So? You did what you had to. No shame in that.” Even the way he said it told her he wasn’t convinced of the truth of that statement, but still, when he flicked his eyes away from the nobility to look back at her, he softened. For a moment she was spinning in his bedchamber all over again. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually fallen over multiple times, but it had felt like she had, like she had to steady herself on every piece of furniture within reach. Her feet continually crashing out from under her—but she’d been coming off a sedative, mixed with wine, overwhelmed and facing doom. 

Up against his smile, even in a sunlit, crowded tower full of fine manners and tight sensibilities, she felt her knees buckle. 

His approval was a potent thing. 

She had to change the subject. They couldn’t keep talking about her, giving him opportunities to pay little compliments that she would wonder at the sincerity of for the rest of her life. “How’s Alice?”

His smile loosened and he let out a soft exhale, “she’s a spawn now.”

“You gave in?”

“I did indeed,” he sighed and rolled his eyes. “I thought about what you said. I was refusing to give Alice what she wanted, precisely because she wanted it. But. There is much more satisfaction in receiving obedience from one who properly worships me and doesn't need to be compelled in all things.” 

That was his takeaway? Alarming. And, they were talking about Isolde again which wasn’t her intent.

“In any case, it’s going rather well. Compared to past attempts.”

That could mean anything less disastrous than having to destroy Alice, but Isolde tried not to be too morbid. Maybe it was fine. “And what do you compel her to do for you?”

“Nothing,” he raised and lowered one shoulder, the picture of innocence. “I haven’t had to yet. But it’s an important tool to keep in reserve, and I will use it when forced. One day.”

“Really?”

Astarion faltered just slightly under her gaze. She didn’t even think she was giving him more than a slightly skewering look, but with a narrowing of his eyes he conceded. “Well, it’s a passive thing. To an extent. I speak and she reacts. But, I’m careful what I say. Nothing more demanding than the occasional request for a fresh quill or clean towels.”

Did she believe him? Isolde studied his face. He really did look better. She wouldn’t have thought that was possible. But. There was still something like sorrow lingering over him. Or, apathy, perhaps. She did believe him, but it made her a little sad to realize that it was only because a moment’s consideration led her to the conclusion that he wouldn’t bother to lie about this. He didn’t care what she thought of him, or of Alice, or of any of it. He couldn’t. 

Some of that aura of tragedy ebbed, the longer she stared and he just stared back at her, content with the silence. Was that amusement growing in the suspended air between them? She must be so obvious, she must be a lurid shade of red. He wet his lips and she felt the slightest tremor through her core as she caught a glimpse of his fangs again.

“My Lord—I wanted to say,” but she stopped herself to take a sustaining breath. She never thought she’d get the chance to say anything to him again, so she hadn’t really considered if what she wanted to say was wise. Or even true. “Thank you,” she finally managed. “Thank you for sparing me—and, I wanted to explain. When I asked you to…” Gods this was difficult. Was anyone looking at them? Was anyone listening? She could hardly tear her eyes away to check. “When I asked for that , I was just so very frightened and I thought if I could only pretend for a moment…”

“You don’t need to explain.” Astarion’s voice was warm. His smile was still as cruel as ever, especially with just how amused he seemed at her growing discomfort. But in contrast, his tone stayed gentle, his eyes resting on hers, without digging. “It’s alright, Isolde.” He gave a slight incline of his head, and to her immense disappointment she realized he meant to step away.

Then she realized that while they’d been speaking, the rest of the room had started to hush and orient themselves around the very end of the audience hall, where the Duke’s representative was standing, in anticipation of receiving the attention of the crowd.

When she looked back, Astarion was gone, leaving a space that she instinctively filled, like she was following after him, for just a step.

“Isolde?” a hand touched her bare shoulder and she turned to find Hywel.

In that exact moment, the Duke’s representative began to speak, but Hywel didn’t seem to care, he leaned in and whispered into her ear so she couldn’t hear a thing the representative was saying. “The Baroness certainly seems to enjoy having a life-size doll to adorn.”

“Anything for the Lady’s birthday,” Isolde forced a smile, but couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Hywel. The Duke’s representative offered a natural spot in the distance to fix her gaze, and she resisted the urge to search for Astarion in the crowd.

“Such a dutiful little waif, aren’t you?”

Isolde didn’t see Astarion again that day. She told herself that it was for the best. That she shouldn’t feel disappointment that he didn’t seek her out again. Instead, she ought to feel relieved that their conversation had been so brief that her Lady didn’t pay any mind, even to mention it. The focus was all on Hywel and what he wanted and how Isolde might go about giving it to him discreetly and demurely.

[thenightling]

This is the song Shattered Dream by Johnny Hates Jazz, that was playing in The Sandman Netflix series when Hob Gadling realized that Morpheus was not going to show up for their usual once a century date.

Neil Gaiman knew what he was doing feeding the shippers.

______________________________

So much for your promises.

They died the day you let me go.

Caught up in a web of lies

But it was just too late to know.

I thought it was you

Who would stand by my side

And now you've given me- given me

Nothing but shattered dreams- shattered dreams.

Feel like I could run away- run away

From this empty heart.

You said you'd die for me

Woke up to reality

And found the future not so bright.

I dreamt the impossible

That maybe things could work out right.

I thought it was you

Who would do me no wrong

But now you've given me- given me

Nothing but shattered dreams- shattered dreams.

Feel like I could run away- run away

From this empty heart.

You've given me- given me

Nothing but shattered dreams- shattered dreams.

Feel like I could run away- run away

From this empty heart.

From this empty heart.

I thought it was you

Who said they'd die for love

And now you've given me- given me

Nothing but shattered dreams- shattered dreams.

Feel like I could run away- run away

From this empty heart.

You've given me- given me

Nothing but shattered dreams- shattered dreams.

Feel like I could run away- run away

From this empty heart.

Oh, no, no, no.

You said you'd die for me.

Oh, for..

Die for me...

So much for your promises.

So much for your promises. https://youtu.be/Kz5scjSQ_WE

[bidean-byedean]

rewatched Eddie Begins and got fixated on what if Eddie did die in the well that day and I started writing it but then was immediately sobbing so here’s the stream of consciousness version;

he never found a way out, but he stays with Buck. he stays with Buck for years, making snarky comments and giving him advice on calls and talking him off ledges when he spirals. Buck’s life becomes so small, everything shrinks away except Eddie’s ghost, he can’t tell anyone about him, obviously, and he knows it’s wrong, he knows it’s fucked but why would he give Eddie up? How could he give Eddie up? He needs Eddie, they were never meant to live apart, there isn’t a universe where that makes any sense. So he lives in Eddie’s house and raises Eddie’s kid and follows Eddie’s plan and Eddie has been dead for years but no one else can touch Buck. he dates girls that Eddie would’ve dated but it’s impossible to have a serious relationship when you’re already committed to your best friend’s ghost and they all think they can make him better and he doesn’t want to get better. There is no better…

At first there is some distance, he gets dates mostly alone but at some point eddie is just always there. More constant than Buck’s shadow, his inner voice manifested. And at first Eddie leaves when he has sex, looks away when his grief lifts enough and touches himself again, but then one day he watches him fuck someone. the first time he’s silent, then he talks, he gives pointers, helps Buck up his game, and then he moans. then he sits on the bed. then he sits next to Buck. then he touches Buck. it’s so good and he’s not fucking real, he’s dead, and Buck tries to get rid of him then because he realises how insane he is and how unsustainable this is. Maybe it works for a bit, he gets a few months of silence, he tries to learn how to be just Buck again and it’s weird and uncomfortable but he does it! It feels good!

but Eddie comes back, pick an emergency or a spiral, and Buck just needs him so he’s there because that’s how this works. it gets unhinged so fast, his whole life is eddieeddieeddie and it’s so much, it’s too much, he wants it to end and it can’t end because if it ends then he’ll end too. maybe that’s for the best but he can’t because he has Chris and maddie and Bobby and the rest of the 118 and all the people that he saves by staying alive, so he trudges through the mud, gasping for air, hoping someone will see him, that someone will just fucking pull him out of the well because he never left. Neither of them ever left, even though Eddie is rotting under six feet of earth and Buck is walking around LA, but they’re both in that fucking well and he’s been drowning for years.

and then Buck dies. We get the comaverse except Eddie is there, he’s quiet and he lets Buck do his thing for a while but eventually we get to Eddie because he’s the thing holding Buck back. they talk about it, how Buck died that day too, how he’s a walking corpse, how his life is a hollow imitation of something he once dreamt about, how he might as well just go full crazy dig Eddie up and prop him up at the dining table because he’s basically there. they talk about how it’s hurting Christopher and the 118, how Buck’s grief is like a snare, like a land mine, like a sinkhole, like a tsunami, like a never-ending well into the dark, cold water. and Eddie gives him an ultimatum: stay with him now or let him go. and Buck’s heart breaks so loudly across his face and the clock is running out and we’re screaming at the TV because how do you make this choice? Never see Eddie’s face again? Never hear his voice? Never know what he’s thinks about the girl in the coffee shop or the point of entry on a rope rescue or which college Christopher should go to or- and Buck kisses him for the first time. it’s beautiful. it’s everything a first kiss should be and Buck could kiss him forever and he sees the other timelines, the right timelines where Eddie didn’t die and Buck kisses him in the hospital, or after Chris leaves for summer camp or after Abby blows through town and opens all his old wounds, or one of the million other times he should’ve kissed him in the show as we know it now, but they’re not real and this isn’t real and Buck is flatlining and running out of time, and he needs to breathe for the first time since Eddie drowned. so he does.

It’s lonely without Eddie, it always was, it always would be but the space that his ghost took up is slowly filled by real, living people, people who love Buck, who can touch him, who can make him feel like his body is his own again. he becomes a person again and he sells the house and buys something else that him and Chris choose together because they are alive and Eddie’s not and Shannon’s not and it’s fucking awful but they are alive, so they choose the house. After years of winter, Buck blooms again. he still follows Chim into the helicopter to save Bobby, he still turns up at harbour for a tour, but there’s no Eddie to compete with so things happen a little differently; maybe he takes those flying lessons instead or Muay Thai because it always made Eddie laugh when he tried to teach him so maybe it would be fun again. and they fall in love slowly and all at once, and Buck wishes he could freak out to Eddie, tell him all the crazy feelings rushing around his body and how it makes so much sense, and how being in love with Eddie wasn’t a weird grief reaction. and yeah, the sudden realisation that he was actually in love with Eddie is a new knife in his side, that he missed his chance to spend his life with Eddie as more than his best friend, and he didn’t even know. so he tells tommy about Eddie, about how he hated him at first and how they bonded and their camaraderie and becoming Chris’ second dad and their friendship and tommy lets him. he doesn’t talk about the day eddie died, not for a long time, not until him and tommy have said I love you so many times it becomes routine and suddenly Tommy’s in a helicopter that’s going down and he’s screaming mayday over the lafd radio and no one can do anything but listen, and he doesn’t die. he doesn’t die. So buck proposes, says I can’t let this happen again, I can’t lose the love of my life again without him knowing what he means, and before they get married Buck tells him about the well and the holding his cold lifeless hand in the ambulance and talking to him like he was just sleeping and the funeral and the first time eddie popped up and just how bad it all got and the coma dream and tommy doesn’t run. they love each other, they say their vows, they make room for Buck’s grief, but they also build a life, they keep him above water for a long, eventful life filled with love because that what Buck deserves.

[residentdormouse]

hi! this is a sign to talk about glen bateman. tell me about your headcanons, or explain your favorite scenes, or just gush about how great he is! whatever you have to say, i want to hear it. :)

Open Floor to talk about Glen?

Are you sure about that?

Eh, doesn’t matter. Too Late. No take backs; already off…

Going to have to do Headcanons. Favorite scene? All of them. Gushing? Would never end and would drift off into incoherent screeching. This is me controlling myself...

So going off of the 2020 version, because let’s face it, that’s the one that hooked me, (Goddamn it, Kinnear, I blame you…) Glen sees a future image of Fran in his dream. He doesn’t know who this is. It means nothing to him. Hell, Mother Abagail was just ‘some lady from a commercial’; no reason this woman would be any different. Figment of his imagination. His mind working around a (family) life he had opted out of long ago.

(Kids? Hard pass.)

But then Stu comes, and everything hits. Mother Abagail. Fran. Just what this means.

He is somehow doing impossible things. Things he would have discredited only a month prior. He wasn’t lying when he was giving his speech to Harold; he was (is) a man of science. He believed what could be seen. What could be proven. He married a physicist for fucks sake. “Hard science.” Maybe this stuff could exist, but he sure as shit wasn’t taking it on blind faith. Give him something, or get the hell out of here.

(And it’s dream prophesies with the steel chair…)

So now for things that aren’t explicitly stated. Headcanon.

In light of this revelation, Glen would be left to wonder what else could have been ‘more’. Mother Abagail was the “most vivid dream” he ever had, but Fran’s must have been pretty damn vivid to paint what he did. What else had he dreamt that had a deeper meaning? Places? Events? Maybe it was an image leading him to a paint spot that put him on the path to run into Stu? Or a trip out that would have brought Kojak to him? Potentially even before that…

I imagine he had quite a few nights on the road lost in thought over this. Because, that’s what Glen does, thinks. Comes up with theories.

It is very probable that he’s seen a few things he naturally passed up as coincidence. The world ending up like this, society causing its own downfall, that didn’t surprise him. Pretty sure, he knew something like this would happen. But was that from his studies of humanity, or because he already had vague notions in his head of this outcome.

(Both? I don't know...)

With no proof, a dream of destruction like this would have just been a nightmare. With knowledge now, it could have been preparation. Along those lines, did he know his wife would pass early? So much loss, did it subconsciously affect his decision about kids? About his future path? Maybe not, but maybe…

And its possible this wasn’t all just in the past either. In this version, Glen recommends sending Tom as a spy, because he thinks he could do it. But Glen’s interaction with Tom - limited, at best. I’m sure there’s moments that wouldn’t have been screen worthy, there’s been a fair passage of time here, but nominations were coming from groups in. Fran’s group had Dayna. Larry had Judge Farris. Tom was with Nick. Why was Glen the one to bring it up? I think he might have seen something that led him to feel more confident in this recommendation. I think he had a feeling, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Tom would make it out.

(Even though he desperately wanted somebody to say anybody else.)

I don’t know, this could be completely off base, but these are things I think about. Repeatedly. Because this damn character will not leave my mind. And hey, worse things to think about, am I right?

Glen Bateman > Real Life Bullshit.

Sign me up for the Glen show, all day every day.

[riversofmars]

It's here, the final chapter! Can't believe it's over and feeling quite empty but also pleased with the conclusion. I hope you'll enjoy the ending!

Chapter 25: Epilogue

Liv Chenka woke up with a start, completely disoriented. She shot upright.

“Helen?!” She called into the silence of her bedroom at 107 Bakerstreet, the temporary home she shared with her fellow time travellers. They had been stuck in 2020 for quite a while now, the bedroom was a familiar sight by that point, but it was as if her mind was elsewhere, completely detached from reality.

Liv’s heart was hammering in her chest and her mind was going a hundred miles an hour. For a terrifying moment, she didn’t know where she was. Images were flashing before her eyes, remainders of a dream that wouldn’t let her go and had followed into the waking world. She squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head to rid herself of the images and slowly, the echoes faded. She could hear herself speaking but her own words made little sense to her. And there were feelings, sensations, all too real, surely more memory than dream, demanding all her senses: Soft lips pressing to hers, arms wrapped around her, holding her impossibly close, it was the smell of Helen’s perfume, she saw her face right there and her voice filled her ears, telling her she loved her. 

Liv’s eyes flew open in shock and finally, her mind returned to the here and now. It had been a dream and an incredibly vivid one at that. 

“Fuck…” the med-tech whispered to herself and rubbed her face. Her heart-beat was beginning to slow and she tried her best not to be too self-conscious about the images her subconscious mind had chosen to trouble her with. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and guilt upon examining her body’s response to the dream. Details were fleeting, already she couldn’t remember what exactly she had dreamt about, but the image of Helen so very close to her remained. 

The feeling of guilt she experienced mixed with a dash of sadness and remorse. She had a girlfriend; even her subconscious had no business of ambushing her like this. Besides, it didn’t do to dwell on the things that could never be… It was, however, not the first time this had happened and it likely wouldn’t be the last either. Her budding relationship with Tania didn’t take away from the things she had felt for her best friend for year,s but who was so very unattainable. Lovely, beautiful, clever Helen Sinclair…

Liv sunk back into the cushions and decided to give herself a break. She knew she couldn’t influence her dreams and there was no point in beating herself up over them. There was something odd nagging at the back of her mind though. A feeling that made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. Something just didn’t feel quite right and it surely wasn’t just the guilt she felt over contemplating her feelings for her best friend when she ought to be thinking about her girlfriend instead. Something had brought this on, something… But maybe that was just wishful thinking. Something supernatural would be just the thing right about now, something to occupy them and maybe present a way of getting the TARDIS to work again…

The alarm clock on the bedside table revealed that it wasn’t even really morning yet. It was just gone 5am which was made all the more annoying by the fact that today was New Year’s Eve and she would be expected to stay up late, perhaps even join in festivities. 

Liv contemplated her options. She wasn’t sure she would be able to go back to sleep, not with how riled up she was, and she certainly needed a change of clothes as she was wet through with sweat. As she lay there for another moment, she tried to remember more of the dream. She had clearly had a strong physical reaction to it but the harder she tried to remember, the more it slipped just out of reach. It was frustrating and eventually, she gave up and swung her legs out of bed.

Perhaps a cup of tea would do the trick and reset her body and soul so she could get a few more winks.

Liv made her way to the kitchen, doing her best to avoid the creaky floorboards in the hallway that hadn’t changed since she had stayed there with Molly. The way to the kitchen wasn’t far, but Liv wasn’t sure she was quite with it yet as she thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked around to find the corridor behind her empty. 107 Bakerstreet lay quiet. Surprisingly, even the Doctor wasn’t making a sound. He was either asleep or out.

With a sigh, she rubbed her tired eyes and shook her head to herself. She faced forward again and that time, she yelped.

“YOU ARE LIV CHENKA. YOU ARE AN ENEMY OF THE DALEKS. YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!” A Dalek screeched down the hall, advancing towards her and flashing its lights that tinted the hallway in a garish light.

“Doctor?!” Liv yelled as she inched backwards, retreating from the Dalek.

It wasn’t the Time Lord that answered. 

“Liv, what’s wrong?” 

Suddenly there were hands on her arms, grabbing her tightly. The med-tech whirled around, relieved to see her best friend but panicked nonetheless as she thought her in danger.

“Helen! I-” Liv gasped and the concerned, yet calm, look on the linguist’s face gave her pause. “I-” She couldn’t get a word out as her head flew back around. She stared at the empty space where she could have sworn she had seen a Dalek.

“What are you doing up?” Helen frowned. Her hair was tousled, she seemed to have just gotten out of bed as well.

“I uh- couldn’t sleep,” Liv stuttered, trying not to let on how dominantly her best friend had featured in her dreams and that they were largely to blame for her being up. “What are you doing up?” She tried to deflect though cast another glance down the corridor to make sure she really had just been imagining the Dalek. There had been Daleks in her dream too. Lots of them. Seeing things was never a good sign…

“Just uhm- woke up from a nightmare,” the linguist confessed, contrary to Liv’s expectation that her shouting had woken her. Since the Doctor himself hadn’t responded, it was likely he was indeed out. 

“Oh?”.

“Well, not nightmare… I mean… I’m not sure, I can’t really remember…” the linguist carried on and started walking down the corridor to the kitchen with Liv following. “But my head is killing me. I thought I’d get some painkillers if we have any.”

Inside the kitchen, she started opening drawers in the hopes of finding a hidden stash.

“Do you want me to check you over?” Liv offered, allowing her medical instincts free reign while she made for the kettle. Her intention of getting a cup of tea hadn’t changed and she hoped she could find something soothing like camomile or lavender in the cupboard. She felt like she needed it. 

“Oh gosh, no, it’s fine, it’s just a headache,” Helen waved it off. “But why were you calling for the Doctor? Did something happened?” She found an open packet of ibuprofen at the back of the cutlery drawer and pulled it out.

Liv didn’t answer her question, she didn’t want her to think her mad, so she pushed on.

“Please let me check you over.”

She set the kettle to boil, then returned to the sink where her best friend was pouring herself a glass of water. The linguist popped the pills and drank and Liv stepped closer to her. She raised her hand to Helen’s cheek and gently turned her face towards her. She looked exhausted, her eyes were bloodshot and she tried for a tired smile, accompanied by a deep breath.

“You been having these headaches long?” The med-tech questioned with a frown and her friend shook her head. 

“Just work up with them after having the strangest dreams-” Liv lost track of Helen’s answer when suddenly, she found her slumped over, dead weight in her arms. She was unconscious and Liv was carrying her. Panic clamped around the med-tech’s chest, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think- She was putting her down on the ground and starting chest compressions and-

Suddenly, Liv found herself back in the here and now, in the kitchen, holding Helen’s face. Her friend - very much alive - was looking back at her, confused by her absent state, and the med-tech pushed her fingers to her pulse point on her neck, to assure herself that her heart was beating. 

“Liv, your arms!” Helen exclaimed, drawing her full attention and she reached for her wrists, pulled her hands away and held her arms to the light. 

“W-what about them?” Liv was still dazed and followed her friend’s gaze.

“I just thought I-” Helen blinked, her panic turning to confusion. “I thought you’d cut them or-” She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as she dropped her arms. “I’m that tired, I’m seeing things…”

And that was what made the penny drop. A thought occurred to the med-tech. 

“Have you- these dreams you had- are they still, you know… continuing? Like bleeding into reality, like you can’t shake them?” She asked slowly, trying to make sense of what she had been putting off as a symptom of exhaustion as well.

“I guess, I- Do you think there is something going on?” Helen frowned.

“I’m not sure but-” Liv reached out to check her friend’s heartbeat once more as she couldn’t push the terrifying image of her lifeless form from her mind and Helen reached for her arm in turn, checking for thus far invisible injuries. Before she could finish the thought, more images intruded on her already questioning mind. And more than images, sensations too! Euphoria and heat took her over.

Helen dropped Liv’s hand as if she’d burned herself. Her eyes were wide with shock, her cheeks flushed bright red and all Liv could do was release a shaky breath. She stared at her best friend, now sure in the knowledge they must have shared the same vision. A vision in which Liv had pushed Helen into the mattress of an unknown bed, both of them naked, and-

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just overtired. I should go back to bed. Try and get some sleep before- It’ll be a long day, being New Year’s Eve and all-” Helen stuttered an excuse and Liv swallowed hard, nodding as she wrapped her arms around herself. 

“Yes, probably. Sleep well,” she managed to croak out and the linguist took flight.

Liv remained in the kitchen, utterly stunned. The kettle finished boiling but remained untouched as the med-tech struggled with what was happening. She ought to find the Doctor. Vivid visions such as those surely weren’t normal, particularly not shared ones… but where did they originate? If they were a product of her subconscious - which in Liv’s case could very much be the case, considering her buried affections for her best friend - why would they be seeing the same thing?

It was no use. She wouldn’t be able to go to sleep now. She didn’t think Helen was doing so either, despite what she had said, but she clearly needed space to process and Liv was overwhelmed by a feeling of guilt and frustration regarding the whole situation. Why couldn’t she be having explicit visions about her girlfriend rather than the person she knew she would never be able to call her own? 

That was a problem for a later date, for now she decided to try and find the Doctor. This involved getting dressed and heading out into the frosty early morning London.

---

The Doctor hadn’t mentioned that he would be out for the night. When Liv had gone to bed, he had been tinkering in the living room, so she wasn’t sure where he could have gotten off to. The only point of reference she really had was the TARDIS, and while she didn’t expect him to have taken it for a trip without them, it seemed like the most logical port of call. Wrapped in a big coat, hat and scarf, the med-tech headed into Regent’s Park on her way to Camden.

The cool air was doing wonders to clear her head. The dizziness and preoccupation eased with every step she took away from Bakerstreet and she was beginning to feel a little better. Perhaps it had just been a fluke thing, exhaustion getting the better of them and their minds playing tricks. After all, she couldn’t be sure Helen had indeed had the same sort of vision she had… 

Suddenly, Liv knocked into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” She exclaimed, mortified, stumbling back. “That was my fault, I was in thought.” She looked up to a tall blonde woman who didn’t seem angry, just perhaps a little dazed herself.

“That’s alright, no harm done,” she replied with a smile but her gaze lingered, she paused as if she was going to say more but didn’t. She looked the med-tech up and down and Liv frowned as well at the strange sense of familiarity she felt all of a sudden.

“Do I- Do we know each other?” She asked, puzzled.

“I think I would remember that…” The other woman replied slowly but she didn’t seem all that certain.

“My mistake. Sorry,” Liv tried to shake herself out of the moment. She ought to get on with finding the Doctor. ”Have a good day.”

“Thank you,” the blonde answered and the med-tech nodded a goodbye. She turned to leave but the other woman reached for her arm as if she had thought better of it. “Thank you, Liv. Really. Thank you. For everything.”

Liv looked back around, stunned, and utterly confused by how she could possibly know her name but it was the blonde that turned to leave now, hurrying away before she could stop and question her. 

“What the hell is going on?” Liv mumbled to herself and suddenly, a voice sounded behind her:

“What indeed.”

She jumped.

“Doctor!” She exclaimed when she realised who the voice belonged to. Her Time Lord friend was giving her an affectionate smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He questioned as he gave her a once over. “Neither could I.”

“You don’t sleep anyway,” she retorted dryly and he waved it off.

“Perhaps not but that’s beside the point,” he shrugged. “I think I died.”

“What?” Liv stared at him. 

“I had a dream. Premonition. Vision. Whatever you want to call it,” he explained. “Have you?”

“I think so,” the med-tech answered slowly as she considered her experience since waking up.

“Then we best keep an eye on that. I’ve been out looking for explanations but nothing as yet…” He hummed thoughtfully, then turned more chipper: “How about breakfast?”

“Are you not at least a little bit concerned about what’s going on?” Liv countered, bewildered by his lack of concern.

“Of course I am and I can’t wait for trouble to find us. I’m afraid this is going to be a wait and see situation,” he gave back and she rolled her eyes:

“Great, love those.”

“Come on, let’s get croissants and surprise Helen,” he smiled, waving her along as he set off down the path. “Celebrate the last day of the year in style. Strange thing experiencing days in chronological order. There is a certain charm to it.”

“If you say so…” Liv shook her head to herself in amusement.

---

“Doctor?!“ Liv shouted over the racket of falling picture frames and shaking furniture. 107 Bakerstreet shook with a violent tremor. She swore under her breath when the tea she had just made spilled over her fingers. Quickly, she dropped the mug into the sink and pushed her hand under running water.

The day had been thoroughly uneventful since the odd start to the morning and she had hoped it could carry on like it. She wasn’t exactly keen on indoor fireworks that disturbed the peace.

“You don’t have to shout, Liv, I'm right here. What is it?“ The Doctor stuck his head into the kitchen and made her jump. She hadn’t expected him to appear as promptly.

“I wasn’t trying to get your attention, I was reprimanding you. What sort of experiments are you doing now? That explosion shook the whole house!“ She snapped and turned the tap off, examining her hand with the medical concern befitting her profession.

“Not guilty, your Honour,“ the Doctor answered with a frown and held his hands up defensively. "That wasn't me.“ 

“What, seriously?“ The med-tech looked back to him, incredulous. The Time Lord had carried out many a dangerous experiment while attempting to find a way to get the TARDIS to work again. Combined with the fact that they had given him a chemistry set for the Christmas just passed and that fireworks were called for, he had seemed the likely culprit.

“I was just coming to ask you the same thing. I thought you might have blown up the oven in an attempt to cook,“ he retorted and she rolled her eyes at him, unable to tell whether he was teasing or genuinely asking. While Liv was no whiz in the kitchen, she hadn’t blown it up yet. 

“Very funny,“ she huffed, sarcastically, and was about to give him a piece of her mind but never got the chance.

“Doctor? Liv?“ Helen’s voice carried from the living room, interrupting them. Her tone was unsettled and gave her friends pause. Exchanging a quick glance of concern, the Doctor and Liv hurried to join her. 

“What is it?“ Liv asked, spotting her best friend by the window, her face tinted in an orange light that shone in from outside. 

“Come here quickly,“ she instructed without turning around and her friends obliged. They hadn’t spent much time together throughout the day after their awkward exchange in the kitchen, but given her concerned tone, all that was forgotten now.

“What is it, Helen, what…?“ The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder as he looked out of the window and his voice trailed off into nothingness. Liv, meanwhile, pulled the curtains on the window beside her.

“No…“ She whispered, overwhelmed by a wave of dread. Daleks were whizzing around the skies. The cause of the explosion became painfully obvious, as another car erupted in flame nearby under Dalek fire. There was some sort of battle waging outside, they were under attack. Maybe they had been premonitions after all. Her blood ran cold.

“Liv.“ The Doctor grabbed Liv’s arm and pulled her and Helen away from the window. “You and Helen, you stay here,” he instructed them, his eyes shining with concern over his med-tech friend in particular. He was likely expecting a strong reaction given her past with the merciless killing machines from the planet Skaro.

“Doctor, what are those things?“ Helen asked, having thus far been spared the experience of facing the Daleks. “Aliens I presume?“

“They’re Daleks,” Liv supplied quickly, matter-of-factly, and not letting on about the anxiety that started curling in her gut. 

“Liv will explain, I need to find out what’s going on…“ the Doctor said, keeping his eyes on the med-tech, as he could easily see through her mask, but he didn’t comment. There wasn’t time. “I need to get to the TARDIS.“

“Doctor, the TARDIS doesn't work!“ Liv snapped at him as her temper was getting the better of her. Her tension was not so easily masked and Helen noticed it too, giving her a concerned look. She knew of her friend’s tendency to lash out when cornered.

“I can’t do anything without the TARDIS, I have to try! And I need to find out what they’re doing here,” the Time Lord ignored her protest and repeated: “You stay in here.“ 

Neither of his friends responded, and he took it as confirmation. He darted from the room and down the corridor when suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Are either of you expecting visitors?” The Doctor looked around to his friends who had followed him into the hallway .

“Well, Tania and Andy were going to pop round around midnight but it’s not nearly late enough,” Helen commented slowly and Liv’s response was more urgent: 

“Nevermind the fact that there are Daleks outside!” She was tense. While she had hoped for some extraterrestrial incursion to help them fix the TARDIS, this was not what she had had in mind. 

“They don’t knock though…” The Doctor retorted and a voice sounded from the other side of the door:

“Are you going to keep a girl waiting all night?”

“No way,” Liv whispered, stunned, when she recognised the voice of none other than River Song. While they hadn’t seen the archaeologist in a long time, her voice was rather distinct. Helen seemed to have recognised it as well.

“It can’t be-” she exchanged a glance with her best friend while the Doctor just frowned. He turned to his companions who gestured for him to open up already and reluctantly he did. Unlike his friends, he had no recollection of his future wife.

“Hello, how can we help?” He asked cautiously, looking the new arrival up and down. He hovered in the door frame, unsure, but seemingly satisfied that she was no danger. River Song, for her part, pushed past her husband with a bright smile and an air of nonchalance.

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of champagne, it is New Year’s Eve after all,” she gave back with a wink, then turned her attention to Liv and Helen. “Hello my favourite girls,” she greeted them brightly and before either of them could stop her, she pulled them into a tight hug with an arm each.

“Uh-” the Doctor looked on, bewildered and visibly annoyed to be out of the loop for once.

“River, what are you doing here?” Helen asked quietly into the professor’s mane of hair. “Is it safe to-”

“That is a problem to be dealt with later,” River hummed in response and pulled away.

“Alright but a problem that needs addressing now-” Liv pointed to the door, indicating they ought to get going, just as another explosion sounded from the street.

“That’s not your problem to deal with,” the archaeologist answered calmly and went to close the door.

“There are Daleks flying through the streets!” The med-tech protested, growing frustrated but River cut in:

“The Doctor is dealing with it.”

“Yes, I was going to,” the Doctor announced confidently but his future wife barred his way.

“Not you, Sweetie. Well, you but not this you,” she answered gently and pressed her hand to his chest to hold him back. The affection she regarded him with was nothing short of remarkable.

“Oh.” The Time Lord was at a loss for words and before he could gather them to argue, she went on:

“Don’t go out there. It’s not your fight. You’ve had yours,” she told them, regarding Liv and Helen with warm smiles as well which provoked nothing but confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The linguist questioned.

“I will explain but not in the hallway,” River retorted and ushered them backwards towards the living room. There was more noise outside, people were shouting and Liv’s every instinct screamed for her to rush outside and help. She was reminded of the day the Daleks had come to Nixyce VII and laid waste to the planet within hours…

“Are you alright, Liv?” Helen asked gently, having noticed her best friend’s tense posture and reluctance to move.

“Yeah, just… unpleasant memories…” She answered, shaking herself out of the moment with a mournful smile. Thus far, River had never let them down, so she decided to trust her assurance that the Doctor - another Doctor, it seemed - was already dealing with what was going on. She decided to focus on the matter at hand instead and asked: “Is there something going on River? Something that-”

“There was,” the archaeologist revealed and gestured for them to sit down. 

“I’ve been having these flashes-” the med-tech continued. She didn’t want to sit, she just wanted answers. While the strange visions had lessened through after the intense morning, she had still caught herself in odd moments of deja-vu.

“So have I. What does it mean?” Helen agreed and the Doctor added:

“I think we all have. That can’t be a coincidence.

“That some things even time can’t erase,” River hummed and a wistful smile played on her features. She reached inside the pocket of her coat. “I’m not even sure if you will need this now…”

“What’s that?” Liv frowned when the professor opened her hand to reveal a small device. It looked familiar. Something akin to a neural transmitter. Certainly not the kind of tech native to this time period.

“Bring some order to the chaos. It actually wasn’t even my idea. That was all you, Liv,” River hummed, turning the small device between her fingers.

“Me?” The med-tech echoed, dumbfounded. “But what- we haven’t seen each other since the Nine and-” She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen a device such as this. Probably not since Nixyce VII. She’d seen them used by Daleks as means of connecting the Kaled creature to the travel machine if she remembered correctly. 

“In this timeline, yes, but surely you can sense that you’re missing something,” the professor looked around in between the three of them to gauge their reaction and looking into blank faces, she continued: “I came across this at Luna University. That’s where I ended up after you sent me away. Fast return home switch.”

“What?” Liv was utterly bewildered, Helen crunched her forehead in concentration, trying to follow, and the Doctor remained silent, looking on. 

“It’s a relic, I came upon it by pure chance. Or maybe not pure chance. The odds seemed somewhat in my favour still,” River hummed, holding the device out to Liv.

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” the med-tech shook her head.

“You’re about to find out. Because you see, it turns out, even in the face of certain death and the prospect of having important life-changing things erased from time, you were present-minded enough to allow those things to live on.” She reached for Liv’s hand and pushed the device into her palm. “And you deserve to know, you all do-” She looked to Helen, then to the Doctor with a wistful smile. “Even if I have to take some of those memories again afterwards.” 

Slowly, realisation dawned on Liv as her words sunk in. Something had happened that none of them remembered, some sort of aborted time-line or similar. River appeared to remember, somehow, and was offering answers. The med-tech turned the small device in her hand as she considered the flashes of memory she had been experiencing and her heart started beating faster when she looked over to Helen. The linguist had gone rather pale and she averted her eyes, wringing her hands together anxiously. What were they going to learn?

“Brilliant bit of kit, a neural relay,” River bridged the silence. “Data transfer can be instantaneous which is how I suppose you managed to record experiences in such detail, or you can take your time to listen as I have,” she explained. “It really is quite the story.” She gave an encouraging smile. 

“Right, okay…”

“We can do it at the same time,” the Doctor put a hand on Liv’s shoulder, a reassuring gesture that she appreciated, and reached for the relay with the other hand. Helen stepped closer too and touched her fingers to the device, brushing against Liv’s in the process. She looked insecure but didn’t protest.

“Good job we trust you, River,” the med-tech mumbled, masking her nerves and the professor smiled and gave a nod. 

Liv didn’t wait for her to say anything else, she couldn’t stand the tension any longer, she simply engaged the device and her mind opened to a marinade of events. She could hear her own voice ringing in her head, narrating a story that with every word became more and more real. It wasn’t just that she learned of what they had been through, the memories were returning. First gradually, then in a flood of sensations. Even if the events had been erased from the history of the universe, they became real to them. 

River saving Liv from the Daleks, rather than coming into their home.

Kate Stewart. Suddenly Liv knew and recognised her from their brief encounter in the park. Perhaps she too had been seeing flashes of things passed and felt the overwhelming urge to thank her.

Liv recalled their trip to the future and watching herself die. She remembered Helen being electrocuted and having to resuscitate her. All of a sudden, the flashes she had seen this morning made sense!

The UNIT base in the underground. The blonde Doctor. Going to Africa to find River and the Crystallizer and- 

Kissing Helen for the first time. 

Their heartfelt confessions aboard the plane and looking up at the heavens together, into the universe they both loved so much. Realising and accepting their love for each other.

Sharing a bed for the first time and savouring every moment fully expecting it might be the last.

But it hadn’t been.

“We did it. It worked. We really-” Helen whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief and welling up with tears. It was almost too much to comprehend.

Liv didn’t know what to say. She had said so much already, she had run out of words. Relief washed over her like a tidal wave when she realised that Helen was right: They had done it. Their plan had worked. Earth had been restored to before the time-loop, the Daleks would be gone for good once the Doctor had seen to them, and she hadn’t lost anything. In fact, she had gained an awful lot to just a moment ago. Instinctively, she turned to Helen, reached up to push her hand in her hair and pulled her down into a kiss.

The linguist laughed against her lips, joyfully and through tears, as she kissed her back. 

River looked on, smiling, as she had come full circle to the day things had started to finish them and put things right. 

“That’s a nice thing you did there. You didn’t need to,” the Doctor hummed, coming to stand by his future wife’s side. “In fact, it probably would have been safer for the stability of this time-line if you hadn’t but… thank you,” he smiled and River leaned into her shoulder, rested her head there.

“It’s the least I could do,” she answered, her voice heavy with emotion and the Doctor wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“What did I tell you? It was all fine!” Liv grinned from ear to ear as she pulled back and looked at Helen. Reality still felt too ridiculous to grasp but she held on to her tightly and that was all that mattered for the time being.

“I’m fairly certain you were having doubts, too,” the linguist countered but not unkindly.

“The main thing is that things have been resolved and the one good thing that came of it all remains,” River offered with a smile. 

“I’ll have to talk to Tania…” Liv realised ruefully and Helen dropped her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gave back. It was far from an ideal situation but neither one of them was prepared to go back on anything that had happened. They would hold on to it as tightly as they were holding each other now. 

“Don’t be. I already know how she will take it. It’s all been said and done already. It’s not a spur of the moment decision,” the med-tech smiled and pressed a reassuring kiss to her lips. Now that she had her, she would never let her go.

“While you’re here, River, I don’t suppose you can-” The Doctor started and his wife hummed knowingly:

“Help fix the TARDIS? I suppose we can ask one more favour from this little gadget before we really ought to get rid of it.” She pulled the Quantum Crystallizer from her pocket that was looking a lot worse for wear these days. Perhaps what they had asked of it had worn it out, but it would do one more trick for sure. She handed it over to her husband who pocketed it with a grateful smile.

Suddenly, there was another knock on the door.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” The professor frowned, looking around. 

“We weren’t expecting you, let alone anyone-” Helen started and there was a familiar buzzing sound as their guests didn’t seem inclined to wait. The door opened and quickly, the four of them rushed into the hallway to see what was going on.

“River!” The Doctor, all blonde hair and blue coat, exclaimed at the sight of her wife and raced down the corridor. 

“Doctor!” River gaped and the Time Lady pounced on her, much like she had done when they had found her in the tomb. “What are you-” The archaeologist didn’t know what to say or do, she simply wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly. 

“Uh- Hello…” The Doctor’s companions remained in the doorway, unsure as to what was going on, and Helen took the initiative.

“Yaz, Ryan, Graham, come in,” she greeted them kindly.

“I’m sorry but… who are you? And why are we here? Doctor?” Yaz questioned, utterly puzzled. They clearly hadn’t had their memories returned just yet.

“We will fill you in,” Liv offered and elbowed the Doctor who was looking on jealously as River and his future self kissed. “Let’s close the door and all come in here.” She tried to move everyone along to give the Doctor and her wife some privacy which wasn’t really working.

“We were not meant to meet again. We’ve had our last night together-” River mumbled into the Doctor’s hair as she held her close. 

“Oh River, when will you learn? There is always more time,” the Time Lady hummed in return, running her hand through her impressive curls.

“How did you know to come here?” She questioned and the Doctor shrugged.

“I’ve been having flashes of memories, echoes. Not much but I knew it had something to do with this period of my life so… I thought I should stop by while we’re in the area,” she revealed. 

“I suppose you are entitled to those memories too,” Liv commented as everyone began to settle in the living room. Considering the fact that they had intended to pass on a New Year’s Eve party, it was turning into a full house regardless.

“And it won’t do any damage? All of us remembering?” Helen questioned, always the voice of reason. 

“The Dalek control ship was destroyed, the time loop ripped apart… it’s well and truly over. There is no harm in knowing,” River concluded and her wife nodded: 

“Yes. Knowing. That would be good. I’d like to know things.”

“Well, maybe you don’t need to know all the intimate details of my experience, maybe we can just fill you in,” Liv suggested as she was becoming increasingly more self-conscious about how detailed her account had been. 

“That sounds like a good idea,” River agreed and clapped her hands together: “And while you do that, I shall see about champagne. The new year is fast approaching.” She looked to her husband and his companions: “I should hope we can stretch to a little party before you’re off?”

“I suppose we can stretch to that,” the Doctor agreed, though his excitement at the idea of having the TARDIS working again was palpable.

“Liv, are you okay?” Helen prompted, having noticed how the med-tech had turned quiet and thoughtful.

“Yes. Yes. I’m great,” Liv answered quickly. “It’s just… We’re- we’re finally leaving.” It was a wonderful conclusion to it all. She couldn’t wait to get back out into the universe and was overwhelmed by the prospect of it. 

“We are,” Helen confirmed softly, overcome by emotion as well. It had been a long time coming. “We’re… we’re going home.” 

Liv smiled and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.

“Home is wherever you are,” she told her gently and met in a tender kiss.

“I’m sorry it took so much for me to be able to accept that…” Helen’s voice filled with regret. Even though they had worked things out and were ready to move forward together, that didn’t take away from the painful memories of her denial and the many ways in which she had hurt the both of them through it. 

“I would do it all again,” Liv tried to put her mind at peace as she really would. She would quite happily walk through hell to be with Helen. Perhaps she already had. 

“I’m glad we won’t have to. Who knows how many times we’d gone through that already,” the linguist countered and Liv grinned like a love-struck teenager:

“And fell in love every time.”

“No, that’s not quite right,” Helen shook her head and the med-tech frowned.

“That’s what River said-”

“I was already in love with you long before that. I realise that now,” the linguist corrected her. “It was just me coming to terms with that.”

“I love you, Helen,” Liv told her earnest and Helen nodded and smiled:

“I love you too, Liv.” They kissed once more and nothing bad happened. No memory flashes, no more sounds of destruction from outside. They were surrounded by friends and in each other's arms and life was finally good. “Now… let’s celebrate the new year. There is a lot to look forward to,” Helen suggested and Liv agreed:

“There is indeed,”  she nodded. “I just… I just want to have a word with the Doctor if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” the linguist smiled. “I’ll help River dish out the champagne. Goodness knows where she found that.”

And so, Liv pulled the future Doctor to one side as her younger self continued to fill in the companions on what had happened.

”Liv. It’s so good to see you. It seems we’ve had quite the adventure,” the older Doctor observed and pushed her hands into the pockets of her coat.

“Yes, indeed. Just glad it all went as well as it did,” the med-tech smiled, then turned more serious: “Can I… ask you something?”

“Of course, shoot,” the Time Lady nodded enthusiastically, casting a quick glance to her wife who was handing out glasses of champagne as promised. 

“River…” Liv confirmed that she was indeed what she wanted to talk about, as if the Doctor had sensed it. 

“What about her?” She asked and gave her her undivided attention. 

“She seems to be under the impression she can’t spend any more time with you… why is that?” She had been trying to understand but she knew she was likely missing bits of the puzzle.

“Because to me she is dead. She has been dead for a long long time… Our time-lines are running in opposite directions and I- The last thing we supposedly did before the time she died… it’s already happened,” the Doctor revealed as there seemed to be little point in pretence. “This… this was never in the cards for us…” Her eyes found River again who was laughing heartily as she nearly spilled champagne over Helen, thoroughly overfilling her glass. A shadow passed across the Doctor’s features. 

“Guess that shows you never really know,” Liv commented and the Doctor hummed:

“I guess not.”

“How does she die?” The med-tech pressed on and the Doctor shot her a look, almost angry, as if she didn’t want to be thinking about it. 

“Liv-”

“No really, I- River has done so much for me, for us… if there is something we can do to prevent her-”Liv started but the Time Lady interrupted her sharply.

“You can’t prevent it. And she wouldn’t thank you for it if you did. The day she died… that was our first proper meeting. That was when our adventure together started. That’s why any version of me prior to that point in my life can’t know of her identity, she will have to whip my - his - memory of this,” she cast a quick glance to her younger self who was watching their wife with wide eyes of first love. “Thankfully through me being here - two of us in the same space - it should become a blur for him… But if she doesn’t die in the Library, our story will never start. It’s better to have a limited amount of time together and having that rather than nothing at all and being alive and not knowing what you’re missing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Liv felt the sting of that. She had made statements to the same effect. 

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“Besides… she didn’t really die. Not truly. I managed to save her. Her mind anyway. To the biggest library computer in the universe,” the Doctor carried on though the expression on her face revealed that she had mixed feelings on the matter.

“So you saved her conciousness?” Liv frowned, trying to understand. 

“Now, looking back, I don’t even know if that’s something she would have wanted… but I did what I could at the time,” the Doctor confirmed. 

“And she’s still there now? I mean, she would be there? If you visited?” The med-tech asked when suddenly, a thought occurred to her. 

“I suppose so, yes. Not that I’ve been back… I’m not sure I can face that just yet…” The Time Lady mumbled, evidently feeling guilty. 

“Where are you going after this?

“Hadn’t really decided yet. I don’t know if I want to be going anywhere,” she confessed, observing the merry atmosphere around them.

“You should go and visit my sister, tell her I sent you. Tula, remember?“ Liv pushed on, gripped by a wave of enthusiasm.

“Yes, I remember but…“ The Doctor didn’t catch her drift so she explained:

“When I spent that year on Kaldor I witnessed quite significant technological advancement. There were people there that were experimenting with transferring consciousness from a human to a robot… they got it working… If River’s mind is safe and stable, then all you need is a body and a way to transfer it!” It was likely a long shot, there were a lot of variables that she didn’t know about and the small matter of finding a suitable body or if River would even want that but… it was a chance. And if Liv had learned anything, it was that love was worth taking every chance. 

“Thank you, Liv,” the Doctor was visibly touched and pulled her into a hug. “You really are quite brilliant. I do miss you so very much. And Helen, too.” She released her and River’s voice carried over to them.

“Enough of the hushed whispers, get back over here, you two, it’s nearly midnight!” She was holding up glasses for them. 

“One more thing…” Liv requested, pulling the Time Lady’s attention.  She couldn’t simply ignore one of the biggest questions she was asking herself: “Doctor… what happens to us? Why are we not with you anymore?“

“Oh Liv… clever, beautiful, brave Liv. Some things have to be lived, not told,” the Doctor replied kindly. “I am not the most important thing in your life. I might have been, once, and you were ever so important to me, too. But no-one stays with me forever.“

“Is that why you married a time traveller?“ Liv joked, trying to mask her emotional state. 

“Well, that is quite a different matter…“ the Time Lady chuckled but carried on more gently: “Don’t hold me too tightly, Liv, adventures end. Love, however… Love abides in the face of everything.“

“Thank you,” Liv whispered, not trusting her voice to speak up. She was overcome by emotion. There were so many things she was grateful to her for, but nothing as much as that fact that they brought Helen into her life. 

“No, thank you, Liv Chenka. I miss you ever so much, both of you,” the Doctor repeated and reached out to brush tears off the med-tech’s cheeks that she hadn’t even noticed falling. 

“That’s quite enough of that, you can carry on with your heart-to-heart later,” River interrupted them and pushed a champagne flute into Liv’s hand.

“Thank you,” the med-tech chuckled and Helen was there too, grabbing her arm.

“Come on. There’ll likely be fireworks,” she gave Liv’s arm a tug and the med-tech didn’t resist. She allowed herself to be led to one of the big windows in anticipation of midnight striking.

“So long as it’s just that and not more Daleks descending upon the planet,” Liv hummed, looking out into the night. London looked perfectly at peace. 

“I think we did quite a good job in that regard,” Helen commented lightly. “I could do without meeting them again.”

“We did, yeah,” the med-tech agreed and a smile drew to her lips as a sense of freedom came over her.

“What are you smiling about?” The linguist prompted and Liv shrugged:

“I have a lot to be smiling about,” she countered, wrapping her arm around her middle.

“Yes but… you look like a thought just crossed your mind. What is it?” Helen carried on, giving her a curious look. 

“Oh it’s just… my personal history with the Daleks…” Liv hummed, unsure how to best put into words what she was feeling but for Helen, she would try. “Everything that happened on Nixyce VII and my journey to the frontier colonies… they… it’s something that was always there at the back of my mind. Some unspoken guilt that I didn’t- that was never resolved because I didn’t know how to work through it… I think I finally have. I feel like, in some way, by making the right, the selfless decision this time around… I think I might have made my peace with it,” she revealed and Helen gave her a wry smile:

“You never made the wrong decision then either,” she told her firmly and Liv laughed:

“That’s right, I forgot you know what happened…” Her voice trailed off and Helen easily filled the space of her thoughtful silence.

“You never did anything wrong. You were trying to help people. You did what you could. All the things that happened to you after that… you didn’t deserve that hardship.”

“I was rewarded for it in the end,” Liv concluded and that was the end of it. She had indeed made her peace with it. Through the years, Helen had been the reason hope, light and in the end, love, had returned to her life. She had healed her invisible wounds without even realising it. Now all was said and done. The past had no hold on her any more and there was just the future to consider. A future she would share with the woman she loved more than words could say. 

Midnight struck and a new year started on 21 st century Earth. They wouldn’t stick around to witness it, but they wouldn’t forget it in a hurry either.

“Happy New Year, Liv,” Helen leaned down to kiss her and Liv smiled against her lips.

“Happy New Year. It’s going to be a good one, I can feel it.” She pulled her close and rested her head on her shoulder.

“Of course it will be. It’ll be the beginning of the rest of our lives,” the linguist hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

Fireworks started up outside, tinting the dark sky in something other than the garish flashes of Dalek blaster fire. It erupted in a sea of colours, each flare more beautiful than the last. Liv turned to look out of the window and Helen wrapped her arms around her from behind. She leaned her head against hers as they looked out across London. They looked out into the night, across the city, the planet, that they had helped protect, and would savour one last night on before heading out into the universe again; and into their future together.

[flameaurasphere]

Post Break-up Diary 2.0: Day 1007

Woke up to reality And found the future not so bright I dreamt the impossible That maybe things could work out right

I thought it was you Who would do me no wrong

But now you've given me, given me Nothing but shattered dreams, shattered dreams Feel like I could run away, run away From this empty heart

[casspurrjoybell-19]

Does it Matter? - Chapter 16 - Part 1

*Warning: Adult Content*   

Prince Maric slowly blinked his eyes open.

Early morning light flooded in through the window.

How long had he been asleep?

He felt well rested but sluggish. 

Maric scratched at his chest, remembered too late that he was injured and then lay there, confused, when pain didn't come.

He rubbed his hand down his chest and found nothing but smooth, unbroken skin. 

Had he dreamt it?

It seemed impossible but he wasn't hurt.

Did that mean Dara hadn't been hurt either?

What exactly did this mean and where was Dara? 

Maric sat up.

There was dried blood on his chest but no wound.

There was blood smeared on the bedsheets.

Dara sat in a wooden chair on the opposite side of the room, watching him. 

Dara had cleaned himself up and dressed in a fresh uniform but evidence of blood around the room made it clear the whole thing hadn't just been a dream.

Dara had been hurt and so had Maric but now neither of them were. 

That made sense for Dara.

He could heal himself but Maric...  

‘Oh.’

Maric's eyes locked with Dara's.

"You're a healer." 

"Yes," was all Dara said. 

"You lied to me." 

"I didn't..." Dara sighed and made a face.

"Yes. I lied to you." 

Maric took a slow breath in, tried to tamp down his anger but it didn't help.

"You let me believe you were a bed slave, you let me treat you like a fucking bed slave and all this time..." 

Dara nodded, his hand gripping his opposite sleeve.

"My magic didn't work. It hasn't for years, until now. What I told you, about everything that happened to me, that was the truth. The only difference is what I was intended to be for you." 

"That's a big fucking difference, Dara and you know it." 

"Is it really any different at all if I can't be either? I couldn't heal at all. At least as a bed slave I could satisfy you a little." 

Maric felt sick as his mind raced back through everything he'd done, every interaction they'd had.

Dara had never said he was a bed slave, had he?

Maric had seen him in his colours and assumed because... because Dara was handsome and because that was what Maric had wanted him to be and Dara had gone along with it because he had thought he had no other option, no other value but that wasn't true.

If Dara had told Maric the truth, he still would have taken him with him.

He would have treated him appropriately if he'd only been given the chance.

Maybe at first Maric hadn't given him much reason to trust him but at some point Maric had thought that had changed.

That something special had begun to develop between them and Dara saw him as more than just his master, more than just a prince but apparently, all this time, those feelings had been one sided.

While Maric had been falling in love, Dara had been strategizing his survival.

He couldn't blame Dara for that but he didn't want to look at him anymore, either. 

Maric grabbed the clean shirt that had been left out for him on the end of the bed and tugged it on. 

"Maric?" Dara asked. 

Maric refused to look at him as he headed for the door.

"I can't be around you right now."

********* 

Last Brayan had seen Maric he'd been feverish and lethargic and Mathers had been worried for his life.

That was over half a day ago now. J

ust a few hours after Maric had apparently been at risk of death, Mathers had said he would be fine and insisted that nobody disrupt him while he rested. 

It didn't make much sense but Brayan trusted Mathers, especially when it came to medical matters.

Still, as he sat down in the tavern and unenthusiastically made his way through a bowl of porridge, he decided there was no harm in cracking the door open to check on him no matter what Mathers said. 

Brayan heard a door slam upstairs and looked up to see Maric coming down the stairs, eyes aimed straight forward and a determined look on his face.

He wasn't wearing shoes.

Raedon followed after him, confused but he didn't have the confidence to question the prince. 

Brayan waved Raedon away and hurried to follow Maric as he left the inn.

He was heading towards the stables.  

Brayan had been working on the theory that Maric was delusional with fever but when he stopped in front of Farah's stall, hands gripping the wood and expression tight, it was clear that he was just absolutely furious.  

[queerofthedagger]

everyone else might've moved on but I'm still here actually

[one-time-i-dreamt]

not a dream, common misconception about OTID

1) It's ran by a set of admins - nope, there's just one person behind this blog and it's always been just me.

2) It's been here since 2012 - nope, I made this blog in the summer of 2016. It took me close to a year to even start talking to you all, I just went through dreams and kept to myself, and it took me even longer to do a face reveal.

3) All the dreams posted are dreamt by the blog owner - nope, I rarely post my own dreams because I rarely dream. All the dreams posted were dreamt by people who've submitted them!

4) The submissions post on their own - nope, I go through them and post them manually. I also edit them, fix them up if there are any mistakes, clarify things that make no sense, look up the people mentioned when not provided context so I could give context to readers and occasionally edit the style a little so it'd be easier to read and understand.

5) It doesn't take long to post a large number of submissions - unfortunately untrue, it does take a lot and I also have to edit and vet the problematic ones. Tumblr has a daily post and queue limits, but it would be impossible to post 300 submissions per day without it. A lot of you don't provide context when sending in dreams about niche things and I have to dig for it myself because not everyone (most of us even, maybe) know about the same things as you do and I'd like for all of the post posted here to be understandable to the masses, so I always spend a lot of time checking for that.

6) I intentionally post the newer submissions first - completely false. Unfortunately, the submissions that were sent in earlier by Tumblr default end up at the bottom of the inbox and the scroll is broken. When you have thousands of submissions and try to go further and further down to post the older ones first, the scroll breaks, freezes, the editing is at 0.0001x speed, and so on. Everything is slow and blocky, therefore I have no choice but to go from the newer submissions down, and not vice versa.

7) I intentionally don't reply to donation posts that are submitted to OTID - UNTRUE AS frick. I've put my personal blog in the description and closed asks here so help posts would not be buried on this blog and I see them much sooner on @dreampai because I mostly use it for that purpose. When people submit their help posts on this blog, they unfortunately get buried by newer submissions and sometimes I don't see them for months. I've also closed anonymous messages on my personal blog because one person whose submission post I hadn't seen in time kept sending me hate and accused me of intentionally ignoring them. Don't submit your help posts on here, please send them as asks on my personal so you're guaranteed to be noticed. People who I've helped in the past can vouch that I do reply, respond and reshare their help posts on here.

8) I don't reply to messages - partially true and partially untrue. I get a lot of messages from you guys on all of my social media and it can get pretty overwhelming for me. Sometimes it takes me months to reply to everything, though I do try to talk to you as much as possible, but I'm a full time student on top of everything and my free time is limited, so if your message got buried, I'm sorry and please don't be discouraged. It's not that I don't care about you, it's likely that I didn't see it. Furthermore, people keep sending me their dreams on my personal platforms and that also helps to overwhelm me. @dreampai is my personal blog and I don't accept submission on there, but whenever I close submissions on here, there are people who ignore that and send them there.

9) The submission button isn't working - false. If you can't submit something, it means that the submissions are closed. Whenever the number of submission gets to an insane amount, like right now, I close it for some time so I can sort through them, edit and post them. It takes a while for me to do that. It's impossible to queue them all at once because of the way Tumblr works and the queue limit, and it takes some time for me to proofread and edit everything. Besides, I make sure to always edit the blog description when they are closed and close that option in the settings, people just don't check everything out. I get at least a few asks weekly on my personal of people telling me that the submission button isn't working. I know they're all well-intentioned.

10) OTID admin is a guy - false. I don't know how this rumor started but I always find it funny when people get surprised that I am a woman.

11) I don't look at posts that people tag me in - completely false. Sometimes they do get buried because, when you have a high level of activity blog with millions of notes per month, trying to find all the @s can be impossible and they won't load even if I do it through my activity panel because Tumblr is laggy like that. So if I miss something, tag me again please. Don't be afraid to send me an ask on my personal.

12) I don't like my mutuals, therefore I don't reply to them - untrue. If I follow you, for whichever reason, I probably like you or admire you or admire something that you've did, or you've managed to make me laugh. If I don't reply to your messages, it's because I'm overwhelmed or intimidated or nervous. I don't know why people keep imagining the worst, but I really wanted to clear this one up.

[quirklessidiot]

title : sweet dreams [1] pairing :future ceo!naoya zen’in x f!y/n x boss!geto suguru (office-au; non-sorcerers) Genre: angst, smut, tragedy, psychological drama, romance, yandere & dark soulmate-au

Summary: “ People remember their soulmates through dreams, it’s a sweet thing that you’ve heard from people from time to time but you’ve always been plagued by nightmares. ”

Warnings for the chapter; language, sexual themes, mentions of nicotine addiction, smoking, tight spaces (clausterphobia), drug/substance-abuse, blood, rape/non-con, Y/N is a reckless person here (MINORS DNI WITH THE STORY!) Notes: may or may not be inspired by that one prompt i saw at 3 am , the manhwa cheese in the trap, and Naoya thirsts i see in my tl 😳🕶👌 also because i havent seen a geto or naoya series so yeah pretty self-indulgent.

Masterlist || taglist

chapter summery: Fate is often in line with a predetermined destiny, that’s how soulmates works. Meeting them by fate and destiny. Yet what happens when your fateful encounters signaled the beginning of your tragedy?

next

When people talked about the whole idea of soulmates and everything in between it, a few things would always come to mind about how pure, dreamy, and exhilarating it was. After all, it had been a tested and proven system that was fawned over and glorified by many. Experts would marvel at how that was one thing that science couldn’t really explain. I mean, seeing your other half in your dreams wasn't exactly very scientific.

Yet it wasn’t really the case for you.

The whole idea was something you’ve always wanted to suppress or destroy.

It wasn’t always like this, before you were of age, you had looked forward to the whole process of it. People kept saying how beautiful the dreams were to the point where you wished to never wake up.

Yet ever since you were old enough to receive such dreams, it had always been nightmares to the point where you felt like you had to rely on suppressants. It was considered an abnormality for sure     especially since this wasn’t exactly a known problem, even getting ahold of your medication was considered illegal but you didn’t exactly have a choice for it. 

The dreamless nights were an addiction.

Yet that didn’t exactly help a lot today.

Here you were, standing in your small apartment ; hair combed neatly and away from the face with a wrongfully buttoned top and some bland instant cup of coffee in your hand. Your face is puffy from the sleepless nights that despite rubbing ice all over it, it wouldn’t calm down.

“Shit.” You mumbled, “Shit, shit, shit.”

You were supposed to feel alright, you’ve been taking this since you were a sophomore in university. It was too soon for your body to even build up an immunity.  According to the dealer and creator himself, the body developed an immunity from the drug after at least fifteen years of continuous usage, he made sure of that and you hadn’t even raise the dose so it’s impossible, “Calm down, calm down.” You chanted, taking in deep breaths. Maybe Mahito had given you a bad batch? No, you took this a few nights before that and it seemed to work fine and had the normal span as your usual.

You feel your stomach clamp up as you vividly recall your dreams, it had made you sick to the bone.

You take the mug and down the coffee with ease and shakily button your top right this time. Maybe you could call in sick today? You shake your head, you still had to process some of the papers on your desk. HR was hectic today, you let out another string of curses, among all days you had to get ‘sick’, why did it have to be today?

Your phone vibrates on the counter top and you see the words ‘older brother’ across it, taking one long hefty sigh, you muster up the courage to answer the call in your best voice, “Hey.” you greeted, trying to sound bright and robust as if you just hadn’t dreamt of something horrid and only ran on almost three hours of sleep.

“Hey Y/N!” Itadori Jin exclaims on the other line, your only cousin who treated you like his very own sibling was a wonderful man with two beautiful kids and an even more beautiful soulmate who had three older kids from her previous marriage. All in all, they made quite an adorable family dynamic that you loved looking at, they were the picture perfect family of the whole system, “I was just calling in to see if you can make it this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah.” You tried to not sound too strained, not wanting your cousin to tell you to skip the party to rest, “I wouldn’t miss their 16th birthday, strawberry cake would sound good right?”

“You don’t need to bother, you’re travelling on a bus and carrying an overnight bag-”

“I’ll be fine,” you tried to say, “Plus I can’t let them down and uncle too.”

“Well, I don’t want to give you a hard ti-”

“Jin,” You dismissed, cutting him off in dismay, “I’m a big girl. It's not really a big bag nor a big deal for you to pester me.”

“Well,” you could feel his frown on the other line, “If you say so. Father is asking if you’re getting enough sleep, by the way.”

You’re silent for a moment, they weren’t exactly aware of your predicament. Back when you were sixteen, you had only told them that you weren’t part of the norm      at that time, you remembered the looks of piety they sent to you and words of comfort, saying that it was all alright and it was more normal than you thought. 

Yet those dreamless nights soon turned into nightmares and at that moment, you hoped and prayed to whatever god that was out there to stop it. To stop your cruel fate. For whatever or whoever haunted your dreams would only mean pure abomination and you did not want to risk any of that or bring that destructive force into your life.

You were on uncharted territory this whole time, the chances of you being sent to a shrink was high and if the shrink had loose lips, you’d probably be sent to some facility.

“Still no dreams.” You easily lied, “It’s fine.”

“Y/N.” Your cousin’s worried tone fills the line and it’s something you had gotten accustomed to, “It’s alright, it’s a lot more common. Trust me, you might just be a late bloomer. The latest one in-”

“-History is fifty years old.” You cut him off, finishing for him, “I know,Jin. It’s alright, I’m alright. I’m not exactly keen on fate and love anyways.”

“Y/N.”

“Jin.” you retorted, rolling your eyes in annoyance since the conversation played like a broken record. Consolation wasn’t what you needed, you didn’t want to meet your fated pair and you might as well do whatever you can to get away with it, fate be damned.

“Look, fine. I won’t force it. It’s your life anyways but please, if something happens about the whole thing, update me okay?”

“You’ll be the first to know.” 

Ending the call, you’re once again greeted by the silence of your small and cold home. It was time to get to work now if you didn’t want to miss the next train and risk being late for your job. Grabbing the bag on your counter and doing a quick check of your stuff inside to see if you have left anything, you make your way out and lock the doors, you might as well get the day over with. 

Working at one of the largest companies in Japan didn’t exactly have a lot of perks, the pay was simply enough to live your single lifestyle, not so much to spoil yourself with new things for the most part but if it paid the bills and fed you three times a day, that was that. You couldn’t complain because you at least had the luxury and privilege to have a job in this economy.

By grace, you had fifteen minutes to spare after you commuted to work. Shibuya is busy as always, filled with men and women in corporate attire, most of them on their phones and running towards their respective offices. Meanwhile, you’re focused on the road as you make your way to the largest and sleek building in the district — Zen’in Corporation.

The building stands 35 floors high with quite a structure that's been praised by many architects and tourists alike. The inside was just as amazing as the outside but you’ve grown to hate the place, after all, it dreadfully reminded you of your dead-end job.  Pushing the door open, you’re greeted by the familiar noise in the lobby and dozens of people in line at the elevator. Opting to take the stairs instead since you were too impatient to stand in line.

Your floor wasn’t that high up anyways.

“Y/N-san!” A familiar voice greets you, Momo was a young spit-fire that interned at the HR department, she wasn’t exactly assigned to you but you had bumped into her one time while she and another intern, Miwa were gossiping by the water cooler, they had thought you’d scold them but you didn’t bother to and just went on your way. It wasn’t exactly a problem and it would be quite hypocritical since your office mates did the same thing in the break room, “i knew it was yo- oh wow, are you okay, Y/N?”

“What?” You asked, cupping your own cheek, “Is there something on my face?”

“You look sick.” The young woman pointed it out, her eyes glossed with mild worry, “You should’ve stayed at home.”

“I’m alright.” You reassured her, “and aren’t we supposed to finish our monthly reports by Wednesday? I still have ten files to go through.”

Momo crinkles her nose in disgust at the mention of paperwork, “Oh right, that.” She frowned, “I still have fifteen of those.”

“Isn’t that too much for something assigned three weeks ago? I thought interns were only given the maximum load of 20.”

“Actually,” Momo pauses on her tracks and places her hands on her hips, “The remaining fifteen isn’t mine. Mira had me do her part.”

“Ah,” you figured, Mira was a rather outgoing officemate who had everyone by her beck and call, she wasn’t exactly a mean person to you but she did have a habit of taking all the credit in a lot of everyone's works. You probably realized that the reason why she got away with it was because the superiors (since most were male especially the manager of the floor) and your male co-workers were very much captivated by her femininity. She was beautiful, petite, and had a very soft, honey-like tone that captivated a lot of people when she spoke, very much so did she reminded you of starlets in the movies with her beauty, you’d have to give her some credit on that part, she used it well, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You don’t really seem to mind her a lot.”

“I’m not exactly paid to do that.” You dryly replied, office politics were not part of your job description and you were still paid right either ways so why would you worry over trivial things? You had too much on your plate right now that you didn’t even want to be bothered anymore, “…and I advise you to not dwell on it too, she’s grading you for your internship.”

“Exactly why I have to suck up.” Momo groans in disgust as you finally reach your floor. Yet as soon as you push open the glass doors, you’re thrown off by the not-so calm and disarray atmosphere of the HR department, “Holy shit, is a celebrity coming or something?” The young intern next to you wonders out loud.

You check your phone and immediately curse when you see the date, “I wish,” you muttered, “I completely forgot that it was today. Someone is coming in for a check-up. The VP of the department, I think.”

“And why is everyone panicking?”

“Because we can lose our jobs if we don’t show better progress.” You said in disdain, remembering how one of your office mates got chucked out like scratch paper after the VP had simply said he wasn’t of use, “I’ll catch you later, I might have to finish the next ten works before break hits if I want to keep my job.”

Sometimes you wondered if this whole thing that they did was worth more than your paycheck. Suguru Geto had always been a thorn to everyone's side — again, aside from Mina, of course, yes even your vp head was charmed by her apparently, or so the gossip goes— because he thought everyone in his damn department were computers who upgraded their systems every month. 

He recently had transferred three months ago and you’ve had the complete privilege to not run into the said man since you liked to stay at your cubicle whenever he comes (Geto Suguru was also fond of talking to employees and once again, talking to him isn’t part of the paycheck)  and it was at the far end of the office where no head or boss could see what you were doing nor could you even see them, a win-win, really. Usually it would just be the manager or Mina who gives in the monthly reports yet every time they call someone after a meeting to fire an officemate, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be next. 

It definitely didn’t help that you hadn’t slept the night before today and only had instant coffee running through your veins to help you stay alert through your eight hour shift. Your anxiety was spiking up non-stop and countless unwanted scenarios ran through your head right now.

“Y/N-san?” Someone calls out, snapping you out of your trance, young Miwa stands there, peeking through your cubicle, “The manager wanted me to inform everyone that this will be a one on one affair today. So everyone has to be ready with their personal report. Manager says you’ll be interviewed after lunch break.”

You muttered a thank you and after she leaves, you start massaging your temples for relief. Your head was not only killing you because of the lack of sleep but the thought as well that you may or may not lose your job. 

Checking the work you’ve done, you realize that you’re halfway through cramming your fifth paperwork and you won’t be called until after lunch break. It wouldn’t hurt to use one of your five sticks today to calm you down. 

Five minutes would do.

You easily escape from your desk and make your way to the last floor, usually there would be some employees lounging around but it seemed like you had the open terrace all to yourself. Taking a cigarette, you place it in between your lips and flicker the plastic lighter at the end.

You take one long drag and let out a hefty sigh of relief in the bustling air.

You momentarily forget where you are, the blissfulness of it, eating you up.

“Too much crap on your plate?” An unfamiliar rough voice with an accent calls out, almost making you drop the cigarette between your fingertips in shock by the sudden company. 

You turn to try to find the source of the voice, only to find a tall and unfamiliar man in a suit with bleached hair standing there, standing out like a sore thumb.

“Sorry.” You place one arm on top of your crossed one as the cigarette slowly burns away, you’re unsure of what to say since you aren’t fond of talking to strangers, “Just work.”

“Sa’ll good.” He waves it off, stuffing his hands in his pockets, walking a bit closer. Only now do you get a very good look at his face. The stranger had striking and intimidating features, with piercing green eyes and an unbuttoned suit top that he seemed to pull off very well. 

Not only that but he seemed to have broken every single rule that the HR department had set regarding personal appearance from his bleached hair to his piercings on his two ears — was that a tongue piercing? — and to his clothes, so you definitely could tell he didn’t work here and he was probably just visiting.

“You got any more of those?” He asks, his eyes still laced with amusement as if you were some type of circus monkey.

“No,” you honestly replied, looking down at the cigar on your finger, “I’m trying to lessen my sticks a day.”

“Ah,” the good-looking stranger nods in agreement, “That’s a good resolution…”

“Yeah.”

Silence fills the air for a bit and you feel as if you should finish your drag quickly, again, strangers and you don’t mix well, so you take another hit and let out another puff, “must be pretty shitty though.”

“Excuse me?” You turn to look at the attractive stranger again, brow raised and face blank by the way he suddenly makes conversation.

“Your day.” He continues, gesturing towards the cigarette, “I mean, using one of your sticks so early.”

“Well, since when was work ever not shitty?” You dryly replied, tapping away the excess cinders on the stick. Your honest and haphazard reply throws him off but nevertheless, he remains intrigued by your words,  “9-5’s and capitalism are a bane to my existence.”

The stranger laughs, once again amused. You weren’t even trying to be funny, what a weird guy, “Has anyone ever told you how blunt you sounded?”

“Only my cousin, really.” You admitted, taking one last drag before dropping it on the floor and giving it one good step before gazing back at the stranger, hands stuffed in your trousers, “and well, you.”

“I’m honored.” He mused, “Does that mean you’re here most times?”

“Not anymore… I did tell you that I’m trying to lessen my sticks.”

“A shame.” He clicks his tongue, “It would’ve been nice to have this-“

He’s cut off by your phone’s timer ringing, signaling that your five minutes were over, “That’s my cue.” You end the timer and look back at the stranger, his eyes that still held the same amusement towards you, something that you continued to find odd.

“What’s your name?” He suddenly said before you could even leave.

“What?”

“Your name.” 

“Oh.” You blink, slowly registering what he had just said, “I don’t think that bit is too important, we probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

Something unfamiliar flashes in his eyes — confusion? 

Before he could even respond, you mutter a quick ‘goodbye’ and you’re off and back to your floor to finish your work. Completely re-energized and putting the odd stranger at the back of your mind.

Yet when you sit across Geto Suguru later that very same day, you’re perplexed and more so anxious that the cigar from earlier didn’t even seem to help at all. The man was far from what you expected to be; he was tall, young, and incredibly good-looking. It seemed like God decided to make you realize that some men were in fact, worth staring at. From the stranger a while ago to the faceless-now-with-a-face boss.

No wonder Mina and a few other women who caught sight of him fawned over and gossiped about him a lot by the break room.

You thought they were exaggerating, I mean the picture you had of Geto Suguru in your head was an old man nearing his fifties with thinning hair close to baldness and a marriage about to fall apart soon which was why he was taking it out on the employees in his department. You thought the women fawned over him since he had a heavy pocket.

Turns out, he was a man close to your age who made you very insecure because he had achieved a lot more and wasn’t like you who lived paycheck to paycheck, plus he didn’t look like one of those bosses that liked to mooch off their subordinates or lower workers. He looked put-together and seemed to be very responsible.

It irked and disturbed you that some people were just lucky in this system. It’s like you had won the bad luck lottery, not only was your soulmate shit but your job was shittier and dead end too.

“Ms. L/N?” He says, breaking your train of thought.

“Yes, sir?”

He observes you for a split second and tilts his head, “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” you nodded mutely, trying to maintain a straight-face, “Are we done now, sir?”

“Yes.” He responds, staring at your work again, “Everything seems to be in order, good job. I’m expecting more good work from you.”

Silence wafted the air a bit, what did he say?

“Oh.” You mumbled, very surprised by his praise, “Sir?”

He looks up from the paper again and you're greeted by dark obsidian eyes that seem to hold some lacklusterness at your weak reply, “I’ve read some of your data. It’s the most clear and concise one in the department. I tend to wonder why you don’t present it yourself since you seem to know more about the math and analytics. You’re doing your job well.” 

A part of you wishes he’d offer a promotion to the finance department because you’ve always wanted to work there (pay was definitely better) but he remains unphased and disinterested much to your dismay, “right,” you nodded to your boss, “I’ll make sure to provide more work with good quality.”

“As you should, Ms.L/N. Have a good day.”

Your knees are weak as soon as you leave the room. Mostly because Geto Suguru had quite the aura, was that why he became a boss quickly? God, you hoped that this would never happen again. 

The day had thankfully ended uneventfully after that, your VP and the manager had invited everyone out to eat and drink after for the successful one-on-one interviews. You passed on the offer, wanting to return home as soon as you could since you were still not feeling so well. It had technically been a while since the nightmares had happened and you wanted to just try and take another few pills, maybe even up your dosage a bit since you might need it. 

You should call Mahito about the whole thing and ask for a refund if this round didn’t work. 

You stood nearby the entrance of the company, staring at your phone and thinking whether you should call an uber or use the cramped up train. Exhaustion painted on your face from the long day. It definitely was a bad day, in your opinion, probably the worst of the worst you had in a while.

“Ms.L/N?” A very familiar and smooth voice calls for you once again and you feel a sense of dread rise up from your stomach because it’s your one and only boss who seems to make it his mission to remind you of your dreaded insecurity of underachievement.

“Sir.” You greet, bowing down for formalities, “Good evening.”

“Are you not coming for dinner?” 

“I’m taking a raincheck on that one, sir.” You honestly responded, “I’m not feeling very well today.”

“Ah,” he nods, “I understand, would you like me to call my personal chauffeur for you?”

“Sir?” You repeat, stunned by his words. Why would your boss even ask you that? 

“For your troubles and hard work, I seem to have made you lose all the color on your face a while ago at the meeting.” He points out, “Consider it an apology.”

“Oh, oh, oh no I could never.” You start shaking your head nervously, “And it’s alright, sir. I just didn’t expect you to be very, er…young… that’s why…”

Suguru quirks a brow at your honest statement, finding your statement entertaining, “First time someone has ever mentioned my age and my job. Are you implying something negative, Ms. L/N?” He asked.

Your eyes widened at his sudden and out of character joke— for a man who easily fired people, he sure knew how to ‘charm’ them. 

Yet how awkward could joking around with your superior be? The joke wasn’t even funny,  “No.” you weakly replied, “Trust me, Sir. It’s anything but that.”

Your boss is quick to notice your uncharacteristic response.

“I apologize, Miss L/N. It seems that my jokes aren’t as funny as they say.” Suguru notes, observing your tense shoulders, he didn’t look mad but there was mild worry laced in his tone, odd, “..and if you ever do need a ride home, don’t hesitate to cash in the favor. You’re one of the best employees the department has and I value my best employees to a high regard.” 

“I’ll take note of that, Sir.” You feebly replied and for a brief moment a small smile flashes on his lips. After saying your goodbyes to your boss, you let out another long sigh.

You need to get home quick, you’re barely able to function as it is.

The musty smell of wet clothes and liquor filled your nostrils. you blink fast, trying to adjust your vision to the darkness but you can’t exactly see anything at all, “Hello?” You call out, trying to feel your surroundings but all you can make out is that you're in a tight and small space, was this a cupboard?

You weren’t entirely too sure.

“Hello?” You try to quietly call out again, a part of you just wanted it to be over with, “Hello?”

The silence is too loud, too deafening that when you hear a small creak, you feel your stomach clamp. You clench your fist and back away to the wall, this is just a dream.

You didn’t need to be scared.

You will wake up soon.

Yet you feel something cold, wet, and sticky caressing your ankles. It was as if something was rubbing itself on you. You slowly try to move your feet away in hopes that it would stop but the grip on your ankles suddenly tightens, making you let out a blood-curdling scream, “No, no!” You plead as you suddenly feel it pull you beneath.

You know screaming was fruitless especially when its cold slimy hands starts going and creeping underneath your shirt to touch your breasts, “i love you, i love you.” It chanted like some sort of prayer and all you could do was continue to let out a mangled scream as it tried to force itself on top of you, “why can’t you see that I love you?”

You let out another choked sob along with a prayer that this dream would all be over soon.

You could feel it place a slobbering and disgusting kiss on your temple as you shakily try to get him away from it, shutting your eyes and turning away as far as you could, “You’ll see when we see each other again.” It said, trying to calm you down, “you’ll see how much i love you.”

You find yourself sitting straight away in your small room, bullets of sweat with panic-stricken eyes. Shakily putting on the night light to give yourself reassurance that you weren’t in some tight and dark corner with some monster who tried to force itself on you.

“You’re okay.” You muttered, hugging yourself as you slowly rock back and forth in attempts to calm your nerves down, “It’s not real. It’s not real.”

You continue to say those words but it still doesn’t stop the fear in your eyes nor the fast beating heart on your chest. 

You glanced at the nearby clock, 7 pm.

Guess the meds didn’t work for nap time either since you only got to sleep for thirty minutes. You take the glass of water by your bedside table and drink it all in one gulp, Mahito better have an explanation why his batch wasn’t working.

You shuffled to the kitchen, dragging your feet as you sniffed some cold chicken leftovers to see if they’re any good before stuffing your mouth full without even heating it.

Yet you stop mid-action and place your chopsticks down, “Fuck,” you cursed, running your hand through your dry hair in clear frustration and letting yourself rest there, your breathing completely uneven again as you realize that if your last illegal resort isn’t working then you will have to live like this for the rest of your life,  “Fuck.”

Maybe you could add a bit more? I mean, Mahito had said that if you wanted a very good night’s sleep, adding two more won’t do you much damage. Probably will just knock you off even more.

It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

You awaken the next day, feeling fresh and light with a big smile on your face. That was easy.

It was a dreamless night yet again after you had upped your dosage.

Maybe you didn’t need to curse Mahito on the phone, afterall. 

You begin your usual morning routine, the day would be just like any other before your mild mishap yesterday. The train isn’t that full either since you had come in a bit earlier, wanting to buy a sandwich and a small pack of cigs before entering the office at a nearby convenience store.

As you're making your way through the crowd, you stop in your tracks when a coffee shop door opens up right at your face. A loud thud could be heard as your head collided with the glass, a string of curses followed soon after, “what the fuck-“ the other person sounded angry for someone who knocked a stranger over yet you couldn’t deny that the accent sounded dreadfully familiar like you had heard it before, “-oh, it’s you.” 

You blinked at the sudden sense of familiarity as you looked up to find the stranger from the top of the building yesterday, you placed your hand on top of your head and rubbed it, trying to ease the pain, “It would be nice if you could watch where you’re opening the door next time, Sir.” You quietly replied, your forehead throbbing from the sudden collision.

The man behind him was about to say something but the stranger tells him to leave and that he’ll catch up with him later, he proceeds to turn to you, “Sorry, Usually people don’t walk in front of doors especially in front of an open coffee shop.” He didn’t sound as mad or impatient like a while ago, instead it’s replaced with the same amused tone from yesterday.

The man sports something business casual again, his suit having no tie and a few of the top buttons were popped open. He didn’t even try to hide the tattoo peaking on his chest --one you didn’t notice yesterday-- nor the small mark of red lipstick on the collar.

“Well it would be nice if you looked around, it’s not like you own the street.” You weakly retorted.

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.” The stranger in front of you remains teasing as if you were old friends and he just hadn’t knocked you over with such force, “Would you like me to bring you to a doctor? That’s quite the bump you got there.”

“I’ll live. I’ve got a 9-5 to go to after this.” 

“I remember.” He grins, recounting your rant yesterday, “The bane of your existence. Capitalism and being submissive to it.”

“Very nice of you to remember a stranger's rant.”

“It would also be nice for the stranger to give me her name.” He piped in, making you quirk your brow. You weren’t even sure why he had said that, why would he even want your name?

“Is this some sort of pyramid scheme that I’m not well aware of?” You wonder out loud, the bleach-haired stranger lets out a snort to hide his laughter and amusement at your rather honest and very straight-forward antics.

“No, no. I work at Zen’in corporation too.”

You raised a brow at his response, this definitely sounded like a pyramid scheme that you were being roped into. This guy broke every dress code that the HR department had set, he’d be fired as soon as he waltzed in with that hair, piercings, and too casual business attire.

“Sir, you’re honestly going to have to do better than that.” You awkwardly give his appearance a once-over, signaling that you were judging his rather out of this world appearance.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, the crinkles on his eyes evident that you found it almost endearing that such an intimidating face could make that, “Didn’t your teacher ever tell you to not judge someone based on their appearance?”

“She told me to also be wary of strangers.” 

“Well, my name is Naoya.” He introduces himself, the cool and suave tone in his voice is something you take note of, he seemed like someone who did on a daily basis, “Try to remember that so I won’t be a stranger next time.”

“Well, um, sir…”

“Naoya.” He cuts you off, correcting you in a fake posh and innocent voice.

“Well, naoya.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes at his rather playful attitude, “Some of us have actual jobs to get to so I have to go.”

“Still not giving me your name?”

You shrugged, “I don’t think giving my name to a stranger who hit my head is very smart.”

“I did say I was sorry, pretty girl.” You scrunch your nose in distaste as you heard the nickname he had given you and he lets out another round of laughter, “I see you don’t respond to nicknames and compliments well. I’ll take note not to call you that again.”

“What makes you even think we’re even going to see each other again?”

“I did tell you I worked at Zen’in corporation.” He winked, maintaining the playful banter between you two without even missing the beat. The man seemed to be sociable and very good with people to get someone like you to even respond and garner a reaction from, after all, you weren’t exactly good with such things like conversation, “Now go on, you’re going to be late, miss. I’ll see you around.”

You look at the large clock nearby and immediately let out a jumble of curses, mumbling a quick goodbye to the stranger who called himself Naoya. Leaving the playful man standing there alone amidst the busy street, the smile on his lips still evident, “Pretty girl.” He mumbles, only for him to hear. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

Later that same morning, you’re confused and not exactly sure why Geto Suguru had seemed to make it his mission to make your office work quite the living hell after what had happened yesterday. He seemed to have taken the words, ‘I’ll do better’ so seriously that he handed you a new batch of paperwork. 

“I’m expecting more good work, Miss L/N.” He says, handing the paperwork to you himself in your cubicle. You almost wanted to let out a scream as to why your boss couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Why was he even here anyways? Didn’t the guy work on another floor? It’s almost as if God had to remind you of how shitty and dead end your job was.

“I won’t disappoint, sir.” You mumbled, weakly. Taking a piece of paper and starting your first work. You notice how he remains standing there and you slowly look up to find him staring at you as if he was assessing your current situation, “Sir?” you ask, wondering what he was doing.

“Nothing,” he replies, “You look better than yesterday, I’m assuming you aren’t sick now?”

You fervently nodded, not entirely sure why your boss even remembers something trivial from an insignificant laborer like you.

“Alright,” he nods, gesturing at your work, “That’s better, I want this by my desk at the end of the week.”

You almost wanted to rip your hair out then and there when you heard those words. That asshole definitely cared for his employees' well-being, totally. You’re pretty sure he was Satan’s spawn or something along the lines of that with the amount of work he just gave you when you just had finished the monthly reports. 

You begin typing away, trying to mute your surroundings to at least finish some work, counting down the hours till you finished this stupid dead-end job that you had no choice but to comply since your stupid boss seemed to have make it his job to remind you of how miserable your life is.

By the end of your boring and mundane day, you’re standing right outside of Zen’in corporation, looking deadbeat tired like you’ve wrestled a bear to the ground. God, you needed to take those pills to get a goodnight’s rest. You tighten your grip on the paperwork you had to take home and take the cramped up train as usual. 

The thought of your bed being too enticing right now.

When you’re finally home, you toss your keys to the side, staring at the mail and unpaid bills along with a blinking telephone signalling your had unanswered messages from a few friends and probably your cousin and uncle checking up on you daily.

You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn, maybe sleeping after a hot bath won’t hurt you. You weren’t that hungry anyways and you could do the rest tomorrow morning. After taking a quick shower, you grab a full glass of water, pop a few pills (and a bit more) then swallow them with ease, the sensation of sleepiness slowly hitting you.

Oftentimes, your dreams would vary. Some days it would be a woman lulling you to sleep then the woman’s face would end up looking horrendous like someone had splattered her brains open. Other times it would be too erotic but not the type to turn you on instead make you sick to the stomach, or worst, something graphic, something so stomach churning that at times you’d wake up rushing to the rest room to start vomiting due to the detailedness. Yet you had realized that there were times where there was a common ground to these dreams, an unknown person whispering its undying love for you as it clung endlessly to you to the point where your airways were blocked.

It was there again, whispering words of affection in your ear, its hot breath trickling your skin.

People always had good dreams about their soulmate, they always described it as seeing a missing part of themselves yet when you faced the faceless man in your dreams with its cold and slimy hands all over you, forcing itself on you, you’re unaware of what part of that was exactly you were missing?

You sure as hell didn’t miss something like that.

You sure didn’t want that missing piece that people seem to clamor on about. 

And you sure as hell wanted to wake up from this nauseating dream, “Stop.” Your voice is rough as you try to resist yet it doesn’t want to stop licking you by the nape of your neck nor does it want to stop the hands travelling dangerously low on your waist.

Suddenly it stops and grips you tightly and if this wasn’t some dream, you’re sure it was going to leave a mark, “What are you doing?” it whispers, “You’re not suppose to be doing this. You’re not supposed to be leaving me. Don’t wake up, Y/N.”

But you’re already clamoring yourself up from this dream despite your body being in a paralysis state- something that would happen when you’re in deep sleep.

“Y/N, do-”

You’re awakened by the sound of the loud rock music playing from your neighbors above, once again, your body is in a feverish state and your face is painted with disbelief and fear. Wondering why it wasn’t working anymore. You grab a hold of your pills and try to empty the bottle's contents in front of you, checking it one by one and giving it a sniff. Wondering why, why wasn’t it working? You took two more than needed.

You increased your dosage. 

Why won’t it go away?

You grab your phone on the nightstand, your hands quivering, making you drop your phone in the process. You let out a frustrated groan, “Fuck.” You cursed, snatching the phone from the ground and gripping it tightly as you tried to dial the number of your dealer.

“Pick up,” You mumbled, pressing the call button next to his name, “Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

You start nibbling on your nails, a disgusting pet peeve you do whenever you’re too nervous.

“Well, if it isn-” Mahito’s droopy voice fills the line but you immediately cut him off.

“You-you aren’t high right now, right?” 

“Well that depends on what you need.”

“It’s not working.” You half-yelled, impatient by his playfulness, “You told me the body didn’t build up immunity until a long time!”

“Woah, woah, Y/N chill. You and I have been buddies for a long time.” he drawls on the last part for effect and tries to ease you but you’re continuing to ignore him because if this wouldn’t work then what exactly would you do right after? Would you be spending an eternity nose diving in those sick fantasies? “...and what do you mean, have you forgotten how the soulmate thing works?”

Mahito wasn’t exactly aware of your predicament, all you said to a mutual friend, Nitta, back when you were in college was that relationships and soulmates were disgusting and you didn’t want to be part of the status quo. She then introduces you to Mahito, a genius who liked cooking shit up in his lab. At that time, the underground scene had a thing called ‘pink’, a drug that changed those pure dreams into sexual dreams with your soulmate.

The bluenette was the one who not only made but distributed it himself, it grew big and it got everyone hooked. Having wet dreams, getting hornier when you wake up, and increased libido with your significant other or something along the lines of that. It amplified to the point that there was a significant spike on sex addicts during that time, the drug getting banned immediately and being labeled as illegal and could be charged for substance abuse.

Yet you weren’t looking for some relief at that time to get you off, you were looking for it to shut down immediately.

“...Thats impossible,” Mahito exclaimed to you back then, “You and I both know that shits impossible. I’m a genuis, baby girl but I ain’t no fuckin’ god of fate!”

“Well,” you muttered, “I guess that-”

“But,” Mahito holds a finger up, his long black nails still had some coke underneath it, “You were too specific, you said you wanted it to stop but not suppress.”

You blink, “Wait, like suppressors? Aren’t those illegal?”

“You literally came to me, the pink-cooker, and you expect shit like that to be legal? We’re not the pharmacy here, girlie! We don’t provide shrink prescription!” He retorts, opening his drawer and taking a blue pill bottle out, he starts grinning like a madman as he stared at the medicine behind the plastic case, “The only reason why suppressants are illegal is because too large of a dose messes with your head and leads to permanent brain damage. Mine, though, doesn't do that.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes in reply, “You’ll only build an immunity that’s it. Right after, you’re on your own but that’s like what, fifteen? Sixteen years?  Not sure, haven’t had anyone tried it before.”

Your eyes widen at his choice of words.

“O-oh then-”

“Don’t worry,” He tosses it to you carelessly, “It’s not as bad as pink where everyone turned to sex addicts! Trust me that's just libido, people are naturally feral, i just increased it a bit. You’ll just have no dreams for a few days when you take this and that's that. If you don’t want it, obviously don’t take it.”

“No-no permanent side effects?”

“It just helps the hippocampus stop working for a bit during the sleeping period.” He shrugs, nonchalantly explaining to you “It’s nothing too deep, you won’t get comatosed. I swear that on my career. I make drugs to help people, after all.”

His cheshire grin painted on his lips signaled untrustworthiness but at that time, you were desperate for an escape.

“How much?”

“Just give me a review after.” he replies, giving you a wink, “and come back if it works.”

“What soulmate thing? What do you mean?” You frowned, eyebrows scrunched together in worry as you pace back and forth in your room.

“Well,” Mahito paused, “I did tell you I was no god, remember? The drug only stops you from dreaming about them for a brief period, Y/N. Not actually meeting them.”

You feel your surroundings turn grey, no, oh god no. 

“You do know that the dreams amplify when you pass by your soulmate, right?” Mahito’s voice stated, as if he was saying the obvious, “This shits basic. Once you pass by each other, it could be anytime and anywhere, the drug can’t have any effect anymore.”

“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me?” You try to hiss but it comes out weaker. You grip your phone tightly as if wanting to chunk it to the other side of the room. The anxiety eating you up with the thought that you might’ve passed by the monster on your everyday rides on the train and walk to work or vice versa.

“Well I assumed you knew!” 

“I-I then the dreams are going to stop, right?”

“Well yeah, give it three days tops then the dreams stop.” he nonchalantly replied, “That’s how it usually works for everyone then fate gets on with it and y-”

You abruptly end the call and let out a long heavy sigh, your empty apartment getting colder.

You met it.

Whoever they may be.

You met the monster terrorizing your dreams.

taglist (if i cant tag u that means ur tags r off!)

@fancystark ; @shinsouscatpisssmell ;  @skyh20​ ; @messofavs​ ; @moonlitdabi​ ; @nakiich​ ; @Kuroi_chi ; ​@rogueofbullshi  ;