#I need to doctor to be witty and quick and loving but also to wear the clear scars of their life

[blodeuweddschild]

Me thinking about what the 13th doctor could’ve been if she had been played by Jo Martin and not Jodie Whittaker

[ineffablenlghtingales]

Look, the thing(s) I love about Good Omens is this.

1) It's witty. The humour is quick, clever and it's almost like blink-and-you-miss-it.

2) There's TONS of hidden things, references (not to mention those of Doctor Who among others)

3) The amazing storytelling. I've watched shows that have been well written and have twists and turns and whatnot but I have not before seen one like this that portrays the events in a way that (well I don't want to say 'misdirect' in the sense that they're directing us wrong but that they're leading us to believe on thing and actually doing another) gets us to think one thing and then another.

Case in point: The spray bottle Crowley uses when dealing with Hastur and Ligur. We see him (I'd say exaggeratedly but let's be real, he knows how dangerous holy water is for someone like him) preparing to handle the thermos Azi gave him and carrying it gingerly with tongs while wearing gloves that cover most of his arms and a smock. Now he's STILL holding the spray bottle that way when he carries it (but the spray bottle, we later discover, didn't have any holy water). It was pointed out to me that this could possible have been to make us thing that it had holy water because up until the moment when the droplet rolls down and lands on Crowley's finger, we're all not sure and probably crying out "No! NO! Crowley, no!" But then we realize, with Hastur, that it didn't have any. Other point, the appearance swap. I don't know about everyone else because you all were there when this stuff all happened and I've only just joined this wonderful fandom but when I saw that episode, and I saw my boys about to face their impending annihilation, I was thinking, "Well, damn, how are they gonna get out of that." But then the swap happened. It's so clever, and I love it.

4) The complexity of the characters and the perhaps intentional reversal of what might be stereotypical ideals

Case in point: Crowley. He's a demon, the Serpent of Eden who tempted Eve and brought about the downfall of the human race. But he's not entirely evil (we see that in the fact that he didn't want to and didn't kill Job's children or his goats...the fact that he, of his own volition, stopped a girl from unaliving herself despite the punishment that would mean for him and his concern, care, whatever you want to call it for people. Wanting to get them out of harm's way when Shax and her demons came to attack, pleading with God not to test humanity to the point of destroying them...the list goes on.

Need I say more? I am in love and I do not understand how I did not discover this earlier. Ah, of course, also David and Michael's chemistry and fantastic acting, that's a big factor too.

[sky-berrie]

How do you think the batboys (+ possibly Bruce) would react to a male SO having an inappropriate emotional response. Specifically laughing as a reaction to pain/extreme emotions. Not being able to control it and seeming hysterical. - ⛓

Hi there!

Thanks so much for the ask! I hope you enjoy this 😊

-Sky

Bruce

When you and Bruce first start appearing in public as an official couple, Bruce’s public relations (PR) manager will probably voice their concerns about your relationship. His PR manager might feel that you are not good for his public image. “If Y/N has a fit of laughter at the gala, you’ll be the laughingstock,” argues the PR manager. Bruce will fire them on the spot. It’ll probably blow up into a big scandal in the tabloids.

If you happen to read the stories, it probably plants a seed of doubt in your mind. You might start to feel like you don’t deserve to be with Bruce. However, don’t bother trying to be noble and break up with him to preserve his public image. He won’t let you go unless you truly don’t want to be with him.

Bruce doesn’t like it when you use self-deprecating humor. If you say something like, “Your PR manager isn’t going to be happy with me. You’ll probably have to give them a raise for all the damage control they’re going to have to do,” Bruce will immediately shut that down. He refuses to let you talk about yourself as if you’re a burden, even if you are half-joking. He reminds you that, “laughing isn’t something you can control and that’s okay.”

If you’re nervous about attending an event, Bruce helps you prepare by scoping out the building and figuring out where to stand and mingle so that you always have a quick escape if you start to feel overwhelmed or need to take a break.

If people are gossiping about you, Bruce will confront them. He doesn’t use threats. He’s composed and professional when he insinuates that they’re insolent ignoramuses for being judgmental. That usually leaves them feeling embarrassed and Bruce is satisfied with that.

Dick

Dick is a former entertainer so he enjoys making people smile and laugh. He doesn’t see your uncontrollable laughter as a negative trait. If you need some cheering up, Dick will tell you how much he adores your laugh and how lucky he is to hear it. Of course, he understands how uncontrollable laughter might cause you distress, so during those times, he will likely hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay.

Dick won’t force you to go out in public if you’re anxious about having an uncontrollable reaction in a social setting, but he will strongly encourage you to try. He doesn’t want you to miss out on life and he also just really loves your company. Some days are good and you challenge yourself to get out in public while other days are harder and you don’t feel up to doing anything outside. Dick will let you know that it’s okay to take the day off. If you’re skipping an event (e.g., graduation, a concert, a party), Dick will do his best to bring the event to you. He’ll decorate your home appropriately for the festivity and make sure you have a great time.

If an episode of laughter occurs in public, Dick will find you a safe and comfortable place to calm down. If people are sincerely concerned for you, Dick will politely explain if you are comfortable with him telling people. If people are being obnoxious to you, Dick will tell them to mind their own business. If you are getting harassed, Dick will pull out his badge and become Officer Grayson. He’ll give the douchebags a warning and will make arrests if necessary.

Jason

When Jason witnesses your laughing fit for the first time, he’s genuinely worried about you. He doesn’t know what to do and feels useless. He’s not sure if you want physical contact or space so he just hovers around, waiting for a hint. If you want comfort, he will hold you in his arms and rub soothing circles on your back. If you want alone time, Jason will busy himself by making you your favorite snack so you have something to eat when you’re feeling better.

Jason absolutely hates when you feel ashamed of your emotional reactions. If you put yourself down and say, “I laugh like the f*cking Joker! I’m as screwed up and damaged as him!” he will immediately tell you otherwise. “You are nothing like the Joker. You’re kind and compassionate and selfless. Living with inappropriate affect doesn’t change any of that. And I don’t want to hear you say you’re damaged ever again. There’s nothing wrong with you. Got it?” he says sternly.

If someone else dares to compare you to the Joker, Jason will go berserk. Even if he doesn’t intend to seriously hurt the person, he will by accident because his strength multiplies by tenfold when he’s beyond furious. Sometimes Red Hood’s foes will mock you because it never fails to get a rise out of Jason. Anyone who knows Jason’s story knows that the depraved clown is still a major sore spot for him. Having been mercilessly beaten and murdered by the supervillain and being forever haunted by his maniacal laughter, Jason’s hatred for the Joker is probably justified. Jason refuses to let others disrespect you like that.

Tim

If you are distressed by your inappropriate emotional reactions, Tim will do everything he can to help you manage them. He will suggest therapy and doctor’s appointments and will offer to take you there. He will even ask to attend a meeting with you so he can learn how to best support you. If your therapist recommends using an emotion chart to practice labelling your emotions, Tim will constantly remind to use it throughout the day. He’ll even print out the chart and hang it on the fridge so you have the option to share your feelings with him if you are comfortable. If your doctor prescribes medication, Tim will make sure you take it properly (e.g., at the right time, with/without food).

If you are feeling down about yourself, Tim will use logic to try to convince you that you shouldn’t be ashamed because it’s not something you can control. “Would you tell a person with allergies to be ashamed of themselves? No, that would be ridiculous because they have no control over it.”

Tim, like the rest of his family, is treated like a celebrity in Gotham. Naturally, the public is interested in his dating life which means you are also a target of the paparazzi. If you are worried about experiencing a laughing attack in public and having it captured on camera, Tim will get you “anti-paparazzi” clothing. It’s made out of a reflective material which causes the flash from the camera to reflect back and completely ruin the photo. It’s common for celebrities to wear an anti-paparazzi jacket, but Tim will get you all sorts of custom-made clothing pieces so that you can still be stylish. For example, if you are attending a gala, he will have some fancy clothes designed for you.

Damian

If kids at school are cruel to you, Damian will stick by your side and act like a personal bodyguard. He’s witty and often has a snappy comeback for the taunts and teases that you endure. You might be hysterically laughing and a passerby shouts at you, “You sound like a donkey!” and Damian will retort, “Your native language, I presume?” He won’t engage in physical fights unless it’s necessary for your safety. For example, he will intervene if someone is shoving you around or stuffing you in a locker, but only using enough force to stop their harassment.

Damian is overprotective which can make things worse for you. He’s always fighting your battles and that’s just one more reason for bullies to pick on you. They prey on you when you’re alone, “Hey chuckles, you going to man/woman up and fight me like a big boy/girl today? Or should I wait for your nanny to show up?” If you mention this to Damian, his first impulse is to confront the bully about their behavior. You have to remind him that would only prove the bully right. Damian will grumble something about injustice but will leave the situation be as per your request. He makes an effort to respect your independence and let you stick up for yourself, but he often slips up because it’s his instinct to protect you.

If you must leave class because of an episode of uncontrollable laughter, Damian will accompany you. The teacher might tell him to sit back down because he doesn’t have a hall pass, but he doesn’t care. He will walk out of the room without a second thought. He’ll stay with you and help you calm down in any way that he can. He’ll also offer to work on the homework with you so that you don’t fall behind.

[crab-in-a-pocket]

reserved farmer headcanons + meeting the bachelors for the first time!

wanted to make some generally reserved farmer headcanons to kick off this blog and bc i see a lot of very friendly farmers out there and i... am not one of them LMAO

additionally, there's reference to a supposed volatile relationship with a (former?) loved one (projection time!)

also i forgot to open my askbox bc idk how to tumblr ?? i think it's open now (i hope).

tw: drinking and alcoholism, references to past trauma, one Bad Word (sh^t!)

when you first meet everyone, it's a quiet greeting and maybe a witty remark, but you don't stay for any chit-chat

close-lipped smiles are your signature move, along with the Man Nod whenever you run into someone

you are, of course, a nice and courteous person but you don't feel the need to say hello to everyone every damn time you pass by them because, really, you're too busy rushing to Pierre's for some seeds or lugging around foraged beach stuff

okay, maybe some of them think you're a little cold and an introvert who has... problems

but you're not! you are a strong and emotionally stable farmer who gets Shit Done and prefers to observe over participate and think over talk!

mayor lewis is extremely puzzled and almost mistakes you for someone else-- it's been over a decade and people change too much, too soon. he makes a remark about a wishing well your grandfather had built long ago (remember the well? how you fell in it that one time?) and you nod along politely (i didn't fall, i climbed in because i desperately needed my wish to come true)

it's nice to meet people who aren't as temperemental as the tides. maybe, for once, you could have a proper relationship with someone.

alex

easily the most annoying and extroverted person in town what with his obsession with sports and loud, brash personality but you two get along fabulously because you had that same passion for gridball in college before you were too busy being a corporate slave

he's a little surprised that you sit next to him at the saloon but he goes along easily and the conversation flows between the two of you easily, ranging from future plans (thinking of going pro... think i'll make it?) to the weather without sounding like you're making fake smalltalk (i wanted to play pro, too, and here i am now. if you really want it, you'll have to leave this all behind)

there's something genuine about him that's intriguing and it leaves you wanting to find out and see what the real alex is like inside because you can see through that wall he's made

and there's something enigmatic about you, who is reserved and quiet and seems to be a simple open book, when in fact, you are a very attractive onion with many, many layers

sam

you think he's immature. a wildchild, a manchild, a wildmanchild, really. sam, on the other hand, is drawn in by your calmness and how in-control you appear to be-- when you offer to play a game of pool when sebastian doesn't show up, he's delighted at the opportunity to know you better

okay, so he is immature and a wildmanchild but there is a softness in him that surprises you every time he shows it-- which is frequently around you

he has a soft smile to counteract his proud one and he's so in awe of how you get so much stuff done every day (i don't know how you do it, that's gotta be tough), every week, and every month (you'd like the responsibility, i think. to me, it's one big project i need to finish)

he has instant crush on you because you're so cool even though your line of profession really doesn't evoke much awe. i mean, you're  attractive, you are so in control of your life, and you have a really cute smile whenever he compliments you-- how could he not?

shane

bit bold of you to sit next to him at the saloon because every knows he's can be a real asshole, but he glances at you with a hint of awe and more than a hint of annoyance. you elect to ignore this and choose to order a whisky on the rocks (if you don't drink, call it apple juice)

whisky: shane's a touch impressed because you look like a lightweight. well, it's nice that someone can hold their liquor. he makes a remark about it (planning on getting drunk, huh?) and you raise a brow at him, looking a little haughty and tell him that it's your drink for the week. he's annoyed at your remark and starts an argument that surprisingly, settles down into a civil conversation

apple juice: he snorts at that and makes a remark about meeting penny for your lessons the next day. you play along and sip at your drink, making witty remarks (thank yoba for hangovers. it's the non-drinker's edge, really. just like not having liver failure). he's not sure if he should be annoyed or impressed at your cool-as-a-cucumber personality, not sure if it's too big city or too closed-off

you offer to buy him a pizza if you can take a away his beer-- at any rate, he looks like he'll end up with liver failure the way he's going. shane aquiesces and devours the entire pizza. your conversation is slow and punctuated with his loud chewing but you're pleasantly suprised that he's quite smart and well-read about whatever you're interested in

the fourth time you sit next to him, he turns down your pizza and doesn't say a word. neither do you and it's almost like it's back to square one until you realize that he hasn't made a single salty remark about anything. you decide to try again the day after tomorrow-- nothing comes too quickly to people like you and shane.

sebastian

it was the necklace you wore that caught his eye. a shining teardrop stone hanging off a gleaming silver chain. he had spoken before he could stop himself and watched as you smiled and told him he was right-- it is supposed to be a Yeti's tear.

you're pleased to meet someone who is also a homebody and a touch more reserved than a lot of other people in town. he's easy to get along with (oh, you're kidding, you really have the signed edition?) and he's got pretty good taste when it comes to literature-- after all, who can refuse a good sci-fi book? (of course i do, i'm dedicated fan)

oddly enough, your conversation is quick and eager and not all reserved. instead of the companionable silence everyone assumes you two to have, you two nearly talk over each other because you finally have someone to complain to about everyone's over-friendliness and he finally has someone who understands what it's like to be trapped in a small world

you tease him about the corporate rat race and he fires back at you about being a part of it. you like sebastian and he likes you-- it's as simple as that.

elliot

he had heard of you through leah who had heard of you through emily who had heard of you through gus who had heard of you from lewis. it was a long grapevine and he's not sure how much of the truth was preserved and it's almost a relief to meet you because, to be frank, he's tired of being the town's newcomer.

first-- you're not peppy and overly cheerful at all. second, you are definitely not hot-tempered. and third, there's something so fascinating about you, something hidden under your calm, pragmatic character. he finds a kindred spirit in you, save for the flowery words and, admittedly, the vanity.

you're amused to meet a writer living on the beach. the cabin was built by one of your grandfather's old friends, a rather surly man who had taken a liking to you when you were much younger. while the hut is in no way fancy, you can't help but consider how pretentious and, contrastingly, humble the writer must be. pretentious in such a way that he thinks living in a sandy, damp shack is a way to beat writer's block (it's odd, it's rarely a choice people make) and humble in such a way that he accepts and bears with living in a worn house with little complaint (it's admirable, if not a little silly!)

you find yourself in his company late at night when you can't sleep and it's so easy to open up to him because he's kind, he listens, and most importantly, he's not embarassed to admit he's got faults, at least to you. you let him see past your collected facade and into your cracked heart far sooner than you think and elliot doesn't mind at all

harvey

you might be the most mysterious person in town simply because of the way you present yourself. he finds himself always stuttering a little whenever you're around because of the way you watch him, set in a relaxed stance, your gaze flat and cool. later, he realizes that it's your resting face. he wonders about what you'd look like if you smiled-- really smiled

he's touched at the fact that you buy him coffee whenever he had to patch you up-- which is frequently, given your liking for the mines. you're adorable when he gives you general anesthesia. he had run out of local anesthesia and you needed a fair amount of stitches and though you told him that you have a high pain tolerance (stitches are far more painful than you think. i really don't want to put you through that), he insisted and you let him (fine, fine. get on with it, doctor). you had let out several inappropriate jokes under anesthesia and your cheeks had hurt from laughing non-stop

harvey's entranced. there's no other way to put it-- he's bewitched by your bright character hiding under that collected facade. he never pries for your secrets because he's got secrets, too. you like harvey because he's sweet and compassionate and even though he has to put up a firm, professional affectation, he wears his heart on his sleeve.

you see him as a friend at first, all platonic and it seems to be the end of it. but one day, as you hand him a coffee, he laughs and smiles and hands you a coffee just the way you like it. you're falling for him so hard and fast you think someone's put a spell on you that makes you notice the minute expressions on his face and mull over the way he talks to you. you're in love with him-- you can only hope he feels the same way too

[riversofmars]

Love Is Begun By Time

So this is sort of my contribution to Pride Month... two wlw couples breaking out of the Tower of London to steal a jewel from Queen Elizabeth I. River/13 and Liv/Helen! 

Featuring: 

endless River/13 banter and healthy relationship

Liv being a gay mess 

River flirting with EVERYONE 

Helen being cute, clueless and working through the prejudice of the time she grew up in 

aliens in Elizabethan London 

BAMF River Song 

Shakespeare quotes

Eight being a clueless himbo

Anyway! Happy Pride!

Love Is Begun By Time

“Any bright ideas?“ Helen Sinclair shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable but no matter how she tried, she didn’t seem to be able to. The heavy iron chains that kept her fixed to the wall left her with little wiggle room.

“Nothing springs to mind…“ Liv Chenka looked around the dirty dungeon cell. The stone wall behind her was cold and hard against her back, the ground was wet and grimy; the straw did little in the way of cushioning. The metal of the chains had started digging into her wrists and were rubbing her skin red and raw. She’d just about had it with being locked up. “This is usually when the Doctor turns up to save the day…“ She groaned, annoyed at the situation they found themselves in. Liv had always been partial to trips to her ancestral home-world but since getting locked up in the Tower of London pending execution, she had quickly fallen out of love with Elizabethan England.

They had lost track of how long they had been imprisoned for as there was very little natural light. All Liv knew for sure was that she was getting hungry. As she considered the hopelessness of their situation, she glanced to Helen in the twilight. She was huffing and puffing, trying to get comfortable and Liv smiled a little, despite it all. She was glad that she wasn’t alone. If she was to choose someone to be locked up with, it would be Helen Sinclair. Liv’s thoughts on how lovely her best friend looked in period dress were interrupted when she heard distant voices.

“Can you hear that?“ The med-tech looked up and listened out. The walls of the dungeon were thick but she was sure someone was heading their way.

“Voices?“ Helen listened up as well. “Maybe someone is coming to get us, maybe it’s the Doctor! Hello?!“ She called out but there was no response. There were, however, voices in the corridor and they were getting close enough to make out.

“You just had to do that, didn’t you, you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!“ The first voice was female, distinctly Northern and obviously deeply annoyed.

“Well, how is one to keep one’s hands at one’s sides when one is pressed to one’s wife in a broom closet.“ The other voice - also female and oddly familiar - seemed to be taking the whole thing far less seriously.

“That voice…“ Helen had noticed it too and they exchanged confused glances. It was incredibly familiar but neither of them could quite place it, not yet anyway.

“We were hiding!“ The Northern woman snapped, still getting closer, and the response came promptly:

“You needn’t have squeaked like that!“

“You could have given me some heads up before jumping right in.“

“What can I say, sometimes foreplay seems like wasted effort.“ The exchange was quick, witty and effortless. Whoever they were, they knew each other very well and knew how to press each other’s buttons.

Liv raised her eyebrows at the statement, trying not to chuckle. She spotted the expression on Helen’s face, noticing a faint blush at the impropriety the words insinuated, and in Elizabethan times no less!  

“We’ve been married for thousands of years, you still need warning?“ The familiar voice teased.

“Well, this body is different…“ The heavy wooden door opened and a blonde woman came into view. Her hair fell in a short bob, her clothes were a colourful ensemble that did not match the local trends of fashion and her bright eyes were firmly fixed on the woman beside her who smirked:

“Yes, I have noticed.“

Liv and Helen gasped in surprise as they recognised none other than Professor River Song, time travelling archeologist and wife to their best friend! She was lead into the cell alongside the blonde and appeared to be teasing her with great enthusiasm.

“Shut up, the two of you!“ The guard that was accompanying them snapped. He had clearly heard enough of their bickering along the way. “Get in there.“ He gave them both a shove.

“Alright, alright, no need to be like that.“ The blonde rolled her eyes.

“Now, really that’s no way to treat a lady.“ River feigned outrage. She straightened out the era appropriate dress she was wearing - much like Liv and Helen themselves. She looks fantastic in a corset. The unbidden thought struck Liv like a punch in the gut. She forced her eyes away and focused on the other woman instead. Her long coat, rainbow t-shirt and odd three-quarter length trousers were certainly not of the time; the only logical deduction was that she was a time traveller, too. Perhaps they had just found their way out of their awkward situation.  

“You will hang in the morning for attempting to steal the Queen’s jewel.“ The guard snapped, glaring at the two women who seemed remarkably unfazed at the prospect of their impending execution.

“Not to mention the indecent behaviour, right?“ River called after him but he didn’t respond, he just threw the door shut.

“River?“ Helen spoke up first and the two new arrivals looked around, surprised. They had been too caught up in their conversation to notice the two women chained to the wall.

“Liv? Helen?“ It was the blonde that spoke first and they looked at her in surprise. How does she know our names? Liv wondered. Had they, perhaps, come to save them? Or maybe she was someone from their future? Maybe they just hadn’t met yet. She didn’t have an opportunity to continue the thought process as River demanded their attention:

“Hello girls!“ A wide grin spread across the professor’s face. “Fancy seeing you here!“ She turned to the woman at her side: “Don’t tell me you’ve done this before.“

“I don’t remember it.“ The other woman shook her head slowly. “But of course, must be because of the time lines crossing.“ She exclaimed, as if the penny dropped. “Come here you two!“ She skipped over and threw herself at them for tight hugs that they couldn’t evade in their tied up state.

“Do we… know you?“ Liv frowned pulling away as much as she could manage. It wasn’t that she disliked a hug from a pretty girl, she just usually preferred introductions first.

“Oh right, the body, uh…“ The blonde straightened herself up, confused for a moment, she looked to River for help who started laughing.

“This is the Doctor.“ River gestured to the blonde who gave a sheepish grin.

“No…“ Helen’s eyes widened in shock.

“Really?“ Liv was just as dumbfounded.

“What can I say, regeneration is a lottery.“ The Doctor grinned and took a little twirl that was so very much like the Doctor they knew.

“And you hit the jackpot this time around.“ River smirked as she regarded her wife’s backside while the Doctor faced her friends again.

“I’ll say…“ Liv found herself saying before she could think better of it.

“So you two are still…“ Helen looked to River, seemingly confused.

“Thirteenth honeymoon, if you will.“ River grinned.

“Right…“ The language scholar managed a smile that wasn’t quite comfortable and it made Liv’s heart sink. Of course. Helen, despite all the wonderful adventures they had been on and all the extraordinary things they had seen, was still a woman of her time, Liv realised. Born 1933. It wasn’t usually noticeable. She took scientific advancement and alien life in her stride but every now and then, a little bit of her upbringing, the time she was raised in, shone through.

Liv rarely thought about their different backgrounds, in most things they were so very much alike; but still occasionally, the awareness of it painfully push itself to the forefront of Liv’s mind. Usually when she considered how the light reflected in Helen’s bright, intelligent eyes or how much she missed her when she wasn’t right there by her side. The awareness remained like a wall, in insurmountable obstacle, that Liv never dared approach. It was what always kept her hand firmly by her side, rather than slipping into the one well within reach.

“Thirteenth?“ Liv forced herself out of her painful thoughts and instead marvelled at how different that Doctor was to the one they were travelling with. She had seen them change before and learned how one person could wear different faces, but that was quite a change indeed.

“Long time into my future - your future - however you want to look at it.“ The Doctor seemed to appreciate that it was a lot to take in.

“I’m going to need some time to process this…“ Helen laughed lightly, seemingly over the initial shock.

“Maybe you could get us out of these chains in the meantime?“ Liv suggested as her right hand was falling asleep and her wrists stung.

“Well, Ms. Chenka, in my experience there is a lot of fun to be had with restraints.“ River gave her a wink and Liv rolled her eyes. Did River Song have any other modi operandi apart from witty seductress and deadly assassin?

“Very funny.“ The med-tech huffed, hoping the little bit of pink that snuck onto her cheeks didn’t show in the dark of the cell. She wasn’t even necessarily attracted to River, but there probably wasn’t a person alive in this universe - no matter their race, gender or sexual orientation - that was immune to River Song’s charm. She hoped Helen hadn’t noticed.

“Yes chains, right, then we find a way out of here. Not really in the mood for a hanging.“ The Doctor ignored the little exchanged, clearly not phased by her wife’s flirting, and pulled her sonic screwdriver from her coat.

“Oh you know, some executions can be quite entertaining or even enjoyable affairs, there is this little planet just off the Orion belt where…“ River started but for once, the Doctor dared to interrupt her.

“I don’t think they care right now, River.“ She crouched down and sonic-ed the restraints until they fell away. “There you go.“ She smiled satisfied as Liv and Helen shook off the rest of the chains.

“Much better, thanks.“ Helen smiled, rubbing her aching joints.

“So what did you two do to get banged up in here? Were you having a bit too much fun in the broom closet as well?“ River smirked as they clambered to their feet and brushed off the dirt.

“Sorry?“ Helen looked over to her, visibly confused.

“River.“ The Doctor gave her wife’s arm a little slap.

“What?“ River looked back to the Doctor, confused, apparently wondering what she had done wrong. She then looked back to Liv and Helen, sizing them up. Liv averted her eyes while Helen just looked utterly confused. “You don’t mean to tell me, after all this time, you still haven’t…“

“I think that’s quite enough of that, River, dear.“ The Doctor grabbed River’s hand and pulled her along to the door. “Let’s see if we can’t get us all out of here before past me turns up and this gets really complicated, hm?“

“Now there is a fun idea, you had such luscious hair back then too…“ River reminisced, brushing her hand through her blonde bob while the Doctor attempted to sonic the door.

“Wood, damn it.“ The Doctor groaned in annoyance.

“You would have thought after all this time, it would do wood.“ River sighed theatrically.

“Wise arse…“ The Doctor huffed as she crouched down to examine the lock more closely.

“So what were you up to, my favourite girls?“ River turned back to the other two women who were watching their interactions with fascination. They knew River was the Doctor’s wife, she had told them as much, but she had also told them that their Doctor couldn’t know about it yet. Therefore, they had never actually seen them interact as lovers might. Looking at River with that version of the Doctor, they could picture it. The Doctor really hadn’t changed all that much.

“We were searching for an artefact…“ Helen started and looked to Liv to help her out.

“Alien technology that has been given to Queen Elizabeth as a gift and it’s been influencing her, she’s been commissioning these towers that the Doctor reckons the aliens will use to create a… oh God knows what, the Doctor will have to explain.“ Liv shrugged. They had been detained rather early on in their attempt to sneak into the palace, so they had very little to go on.

“Yes, that’s what we’ve been looking for, too.“ The Doctor exclaimed excitedly.

“We were having a lovely honeymoon, actually.“ River interjected. “The theatre, you know. Shakespeare? Live? You just had to check this out.“

“Well, I didn’t remember that it was all in hand already, did I.“ The Doctor retorted.

“So do you know where the artefact is?“ Liv asked, hoping there would be an easy solution to the whole mess.

“We would have had it by now if someone could have held their nerve.“ River pursed her lips.

“You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.“ The Doctor glared at her wife.

“Can you honestly blame me?“ River smirked giving a little shrug.

“I can’t… blame you, I mean.“ Liv found herself saying, looking the Doctor up and down.

“Thank you very much.“ River gave the med-tech a winning smile and proceeded to stick her tongue out at her wife who just rolled her eyes.

“Liv?“ Helen raised her eyebrows questioningly at her friend who was still in a world of her own when the Doctor bent over again and continued to examine the lock.

“Hm? What?“ Liv blinked, looking back to Helen who seemed rather incredulous.

“That’s the Doctor!“ She pointed out, her voice somewhere between amusement and concern.

“Yeah but… not really… I mean…“ Liv began to stutter. “Past him, good God no, but… I mean…“

“Right…“ Helen’s eyes widened in surprise and Liv silently scolded herself.

That went very badly for so many reasons, Liv realised. She didn’t mean to look like she was checking out their best friend, just because they had changed bodies. She didn’t mean to make Helen uncomfortable by flaunting interest in a pretty girl. And most importantly, she didn’t want Helen thinking she was interested in the Doctor or anyone else for that matter. Anyone else except for Helen herself, of course; but that she couldn’t say.

River, apparently, could tell that Liv was getting very uncomfortable, so she decided to move things along.

“Anyway, where were we.. trying to break out? Step aside dear.“ She gently pushed her wife aside so she could have a look at the lock herself. She pulled something that looked an awful lot like a swiss army knife from somewhere within her dress.

“You okay, Helen?“ The Doctor noticed that Helen had gone rather quiet and contemplative.

“Yeah fine, I…“ The language scholar managed a smile.

“There we are.“ River announced triumphantly and gave the door a gentle nudge, swinging it open.

“You really are good, aren’t you.“ Liv chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief.  

“I’m not sure good is the right word.“ Helen laughed a little as well.

“Better not be.“ River smirked and hid the knife somewhere around the edges of her cleavage. “Come along, girls.“ She stuck her head out the door to make sure the coast was clear. The corridor was indeed empty and confidently, River and the Doctor lead the way. Liv and Helen followed slightly more cautiously.

“So… the Doctor…“ Helen said after walking in silence for a few minutes.

“What?“ Liv looked around to her, confused.

“You said you couldn’t blame River…“ Helen observed, mulling over what she had said.

“Helen…“ Liv felt her throat close up. Of course she had got the wrong end of the stick, but how to explain without making the situation worse?

“No, I mean, I uh…“ Helen seemingly was struggling to find the right words as well, so Liv hastily tried to justify herself:

“I didn’t mean I wanted to… I mean, she’s the Doctor. Plus, she’s with the Professor, so…“ She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. She hadn’t meant it like that at all.

“But if she wasn’t, you’d…“ Helen looked ahead to where the Doctor and River were standing to either side of a door and glancing into the next corridor; a perfect team, so in tune with each other.

“Why are we talking about this?“ Liv asked gently. She so badly wanted to reach for her arm or her shoulder, create some physical contact, but she didn’t.

“No, I mean… I just didn’t realise you had these feelings…“ Helen huffed, her tone incredibly difficult to pick apart.

“I don’t! Not for the Doctor.“ Liv grabbed Helen’s arm and stopped her. She couldn’t leave her in that belief.

“But you said…“ Helen didn’t look at her, she adverted her eyes, looking up ahead to make sure they didn’t lose track of River and the Doctor.

“She’s pretty, that’s all. That was all I was saying, nothing else. I don’t want to and never would and… this is the Doctor we’re talking about!“ Liv insisted firmly, she would have shouted for emphasis if they weren’t currently on the run, breaking out of prison. Her tone must have been a lot sharper than she realised, as Helen stared at her shocked. Quickly, Liv let go of her arm. “Besides, it’s not just about that, is it.“ She mumbled, somewhat apologetical about her outburst. “To be… interested… in someone like that, there has to be an awful lot there. Like trust. Mutual interests. Shared values. Time… spending time with that person, getting to know them, making memories together and experiences and…“ She broke off. “I just mean, a pretty face isn’t everything.“ She shrugged and started walking again, partly because she reasoned that they should keep up with the others, partly because she wanted to put an end to the conversation.

“But you’d… like a pretty pace? More than, say, someone like our Doctor…?“ Helen asked after a few moments of silence between them.

“You mean a man?“ Liv retorted without looking at her. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“Uhh… yeah… I guess that’s what I mean…“ Helen mumbled, not looking to her either.

“I really don’t care, Helen.“ Liv sighed, defeated. She actually laughed a little at how absurd the conversation was from her point of view. Humanity had moved past that a long long time ago and she couldn't believe that her beautiful, clever friend hadn’t come to the same realisation yet. “When you like someone it’s not for their gender, you like the person, wouldn’t you say?“ Liv asked, looking over to her at last.

“I’d never… really thought about it, I guess…“ Helen replied, her voice soft.

“That’s just your time, the way you were raised, it’s… you can’t help it…“ Liv shook her head, she couldn’t even blame her. She was born in a different world and it would take time to unlearn what society had drummed into her for most of her life. Far flung adventures in impossible worlds just weren’t enough. It would take time, like all things. Love is begun by time… Liv thought, Shakespeare making an unbidden appearance in her troubled mind. Love is begun by time and time qualifies the spark and fire of it. She wondered if that spark would ever be allowed to turn to a blaze. A steady, hungry fire had been burning inside her for so long already; and perhaps Helen would douse it in cold water at last.

“Seems so silly now, looking back…“ Helen spoke to herself more than anything else but took Liv by surprise nonetheless. “After everything I’ve seen, the places we’ve been too, the futures we’ve experienced…“ She shook her head to herself. “I guess I still haven’t quite caught up with everything yet…“

“It does seem silly…“ Liv didn’t know what else to say but she felt a sense of relief at Helen’s thought process on the matter. Her friend was intelligent, inquisitive and considerate. She reflected on things and didn’t just take them for granted. She questioned and prodded, more than able to make up her own mind. Maybe she just had never had reason to reevaluate her feelings on the matter and Liv felt a sting for knowing she herself hadn’t been reason enough to do just that. But then, perhaps, she had never dared to give her a proper reason to, either.  

“Shush, you two, or we will be back in the tower in a minute…“ River pressed her finger’s to Liv’s lips as they came to an abrupt halt and she nearly bumped into her.

“Guards?“ Helen whispered as Liv was too dumbfounded to utter anything with River Song’s slender finger pressed to her lips.

“I’m going to create a distraction, you guys go ahead and I’ll meet you by the exit.“ The Doctor spoke quietly. She glanced around the corner. There were four guards heading their way. “Where did I say I went? Where was I when you were detained?“ She turned back to her former companions.

“You were taken to the Queen, apparently she had been looking for you everywhere.“ Liv answered slowly, recalling the series of events that had brought them there.

“Ahh, yes… Lizzie…“ The Doctor couldn’t help a little smirk.

“Virgin Queen no longer, naughty naughty, good job I’m not the jealous type.“ River wagged her finger at her wife who gave an innocent shrug and sheepish grin. “She’s not the jealous type, either, just for the record.“ River gave Helen a wink who had no idea what to do with that. River Song’s constant flirting and innuendo was a lot to handle. She flushed a little, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Liv who felt a wave of jealousy knocking her slightly. She had no right to be jealous, did she? River just had that effect on people.

“So what would the Queen want with the Doctor?“ Liv tired to focus her mind on something else.

“I may have married her… previous me… future me, from your point of view…“ The Doctor waved it off as unimportant.

“Seriously?“ Helen exclaimed and all of them shushed her.

“Anyway, that will keep the Queen preoccupied, won’t it. Plenty of time for us to steal into the palace and get the artefact.“ The Doctor whispered with some urgency. The guards would be getting close. “Let’s get out of here, my TARDIS is parked just at either side of the Houses of Parliament.“ There were nods all round. “So about that distraction…“ She turned back, reached for her sonic and realised that River had suddenly disappeared. Then there were muffled cries, groans, sounds of something knocking into the wall, and the thud of bodies hitting the floor.

“Let’s get going, dear, we haven’t got all day.“ River called to them, signalling that the coast was clear.

“Why do our honeymoons always end like this?“ The Doctor huffed as they stepped out onto the corridor where River had struck down four fully grown men without so much as ruffling a hair on her impressive head of curls.

“Because you really like it when I strut my stuff, Sweetie.“ River winked at her wife who did seem a little tighter wound than a moment before. “You know I can have you on your back even quicker than that.“

“Promises, promises.“ The Doctor mumbled but the pink on her cheeks betrayed her feelings on the matter.

“Does the flirting ever stop?“ Liv felt a little hot under the collar as well. There certainly was something incredibly attractive about a woman that could handle herself like that.

“Not as long as it makes her blush like that.“ River smirked proud of the effect she had on her wife.

“Is this what you two are usually like?“ Helen asked. She seemed intrigued to know how River would have been with their Doctor, given half a chance.

“Your Doctor didn’t know who I was yet and couldn’t know, so you can’t really compare it. Doesn’t mean I love him any less.“ River answered, seemingly knowing full well where she was going with it.

“Maybe a little bit less?“ The Doctor interjected and River shook her head, laughing:

“I love all my spouses equally.“ She slipped her hand into the Doctor’s before she could start sulking. “Now come along, we haven’t got all day!“

“Wow…“ Was all Helen and Liv could manage as they stepped into the Doctor’s TARDIS.

“You redecorated.“ Helen observed and the Doctor grinned:

“You like it?“ She asked as she marched up to the console and set coordinates. “Just a quick hop…“ She pushed down a lever. “And we’re in the gardens of Richmond Palace.“

“You seem to have gotten better at flying her.“ Liv commented as they stepped outside and were exactly where she had intended for them to go.

“Don’t let appearances fool you, Ms. Chenka.“ River hummed in amusement.

“Right, where are we going?“ Helen asked before the Doctor could launch into a defence of her flying.

“I’m keeping the Queen busy so we just need to evade the guards and find the artefact, destroy it, and be on our way, easy, no?“ The Doctor put her hands on her hips, looking around for confirmation.

“If we knew where the artefact was and what it looked like.“ Liv sighed. They had gotten as far as that last time, with their Doctor.

“Way ahead of you.“ River smiled and pulled a scanner from somewhere in her dress. What else does she keep in there, Liv wondered. “Looks like it’s in the private vault… at least that’t not the private chambers.“ River mused, holding out the scanner for everyone to see. There was a red dot pulsating not too far away from them.

“Now, that would be awkward…“ The Doctor admitted.

“You guys better stay here.“ River turned to Liv and Helen

“What? You’re leaving us behind?“ Helen protested, incredulous.

“I’d leave her behind too but she gets offended.“ River nodded towards her wife.

“River!“ The Doctor huffed.

“Oh, alright then, all come along, just don’t moan if we end up back in the tower again cause you got us caught.“ River sighed, giving in.

River was quick to find a window on the ground floor that was easily opened with the help of her sonic trowel - another item she just happened to have on her person - and they climbed inside. The corridor was empty and there were no alarm systems to consider in Elizabethan times.

“This way…“ River indicated, following her scanner.

They snuck through corridors and glamorous rooms, each sitting room more luscious than the next, until finally, they came to a room full of display cases.

“There it is.“ The Doctor whispered and pointed to the far end of the room. A large jewel sat upon a red cushion, guards stood either side of it.

“Allow me…“ River was about to make a dash for it when suddenly a large tentacle shot out of the darkness and knocked all of them over, like bowling pins. Despite the racket, the guards in the room up ahead didn’t even blink, they seemed to be under the influence of the jewel.

“Bloody hell…“ Liv groaned, dazed for a moment after hitting her head.

“Are you okay, you knocked your head pretty badly…“ Helen seemed to have fared better, she was quick to lean over her and brush her hair back. Liv’s struggle to think clearly was not due to head injury but rather the way Helen pulled her up and held her close.

“I thought I was the med-tech around here…“ She managed a half-hearted joke but got lost in Helen’s bright eyes. The concern she found there made her heart beat a little faster.

“You’re not from around here…“ A deep voice hummed demanding their attention. A creature the size of a small van stepped from the shadows. Stepped was probably the wrong word for it. It slid, as it resembled a slug. A slug that had been crossed with an octopus, as long tentacles hung at its sides. It accessed the group with beady, black eyes while they clambered to their feet.

“And neither are you.“ The Doctor squared her jaw, holding her sonic out like a weapon. Protectively, she stepped in front of her friends. “You do realise this is a level five planet, don’t you?“

“This planet is not important.“ The creature declared with a guttural sound that resembled a laugh.

“Oh, I beg to differ and you have made a very big mistake by choosing it.“ The Doctor retorted firmly.

“The one that’s made a mistake is you, by coming here. This world will soon be ours.“ The alien seemed unimpressed by her declaration and slid forward. Behind it, guards appeared and advanced towards them as well. The Doctor and River exchanged glances, as did Helen and Liv, weighing their options.

“No, it won’t. Not once we’ve destroyed the jewel you’re using to exert control over these people.“ The Doctor stated but retreated a little as the guards came closer. Their eyes were blank, they looked into nothingness but moved ahead regardless.

“Their minds are weak.“ The alien laughed again.

“And you’re ugly but I wasn’t gonna mention it.“ The Doctor snapped. “Now, you have a choice. You either leave this planet and spare yourself the humiliation of us kicking you out, or we make you.“ She did her best to sound threatening.

“You and what army?“ The creature tilted its barely distinguishable head.

“I don’t need an army, I’m the Doctor.“ The Doctor declared and she halted her retreat. Time to stand tall and firm.

“You’re the Doctor?“ The alien echoed.

“Heard of me then? Good! That should give you reason to run.“ The Doctor grinned.

“Doctor who?“ The alien asked and the Doctor’s face fell with annoyance.

“Well, that’s a bit disappointing, never mind, but that means you probably won’t know my lovely wife either. Professor River Song, top-notch archeologist, great hair and one hell of a marksman… woman… Anyway, I digress, point is, she’s a great shot, and while you've been listening to me singing her praises, she’d taken aim at your jewel and any second now, she’ll…“

A shot rang out and the sound of splintering glass was ear piercingly sharp.

“NO!“ The alien wailed as the guards collapsed where they were marching. Gone was their puppet master’s influence and it left them spent and unconscious.

“Never give her the opportunity to talk.“ River pointed her gun at the alien. Another thing she just happened to have pulled out of her dress. Or was it from under it? Liv found herself swallowing hard at the thought of River having strapped a gun holster to her thigh… Either way, she had shot the jewel at a great distance, through two windows and an open door. And it had only taken her one attempt.

“You will pay for this!“ The creature screeched and lashed out with its tentacles that suddenly grew sharp thorns.

“Oh no, you don’t!“ The Doctor sonic-ed a chandelier above its head that came crashing down while River delivered three quick shorts, two at tentacles, the third right in the head. It was, however, Liv that reacted the quickest.

“Helen!“ She pulled her friend around, out of the way of the one tentacle that made it past River. She knocked her to the ground just in time and River quickly shoot the tentacle for good measure, even after the creature lay motionless.

“Let’s get out of here before actual guards arrive, come on!“ The Doctor didn’t give them time to recover, she pulled her friends up and pushed them alone the corridor as voices approached.

“You saved me.“ Helen seemed thoroughly out of breath when they finally reached the safety of the shore of the Themes. She looked to Liv would was just as exhausted and leaned against the balustrade to catch her breath.

“Well, couldn’t just let it get you, could I, not after all that time the Doctor and I have spent on getting you back…“ Liv huffed, trying to downplay how terrifying the thought of losing Helen really was. She had been in that situation, not knowing whether she was dead or alive, if she would ever see her again, and she couldn’t risk losing her again.

“Right… he probably wouldn’t have been best pleased if he’d have to find an antidote to some weird disease or God knows what that thing would have done…“ Helen mumbled.

“Exactly…“ Liv brushed her hair back awkwardly.

“You know, you two are really painful to watch!“ River interrupted, her voice full of frustration.

“What?“ The two of them looked up simultaneously to find River scowling at them, placing her hands on her hips, seemingly about to give a lecture.

“Right, I’m not telling you what to do but come on!“ The professor exclaimed exasperated. “Liv! Just take the plunge, okay?“

Liv blushed deeply. Was she that easy to read? To River Song, apparently so.

“I think I’ve had enough of London for the time being.“ The Doctor interrupted, deliberately intervening to give her friends an out should they need it. They didn’t look ready to have that conversation. “We can catch Shakespeare another time. Tropical beach next?“ She looked to River who rolled her eyes at her interruption.

“Wait, what about the Doctor, our Doctor?“ Helen suddenly realised.

“He’ll get himself out of that situation.“ The Doctor waved off her concern. “Might just take a little while. Maybe don’t wait up…“ She winked.

“So you do remember it! You said you didn’t!“ River exclaimed somewhere between affronted and amused.

“Only vaguely, time lines and all…“ The Doctor tried to play it off but her wife wasn’t having it:

“You just didn’t want to tell me what the sex was like!“ River retorted.

“I thought you weren’t jealous!“ The Doctor laughed.

“I’m not jealous, I’m curious! The virgin queen, I mean, there’s a story there, isn’t there!“ River insisted with a mischievous grin. “Besides… I’m taking you home tonight and that’s what counts.“ She grabbed hold of her chin and placed a firm kiss on her slightly parted lips. The Doctor chuckled and kissed her back. Nothing quite like a kiss from her wife at the end of an adventure, so it seemed. Liv couldn’t deny she quite enjoyed seeing them kiss, though there was a twinge of jealously as well. It wasn’t directed at either one of them but at the station in itself. She looked to Helen, more longingly than she probably should have, but the language scholar didn’t noticed as she just cleared her throat:

“Are you just going to leave us now?“ She asked as River and the Doctor pulled apart and looked back to them, somewhat sheepishly, almost as if they had already forgotten they were there.

“We’ll see you guys around, places to go, people to see, marriages to consummate.“ River smirked with a little wave of her free hand, the other pulling her wife close to her side. She regarded each of them with an affectionate smile. “Hope to see you again soon.“

“Until next time, my dear friends. I miss going on adventures with you…“ The Doctor smiled as well, fondly, in a reminiscent sort of way. “Be good to yourselves.“

“And you, Doctor.“ Liv mirrored her warm expression. “Till next time, Professor.“

“Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.“ Helen smiled. “Have fun.“

“You too!“ River grinned and pulled something from her corset. Because why wouldn’t she. “Here, in case the Doctor is a while yet.“ She threw something towards them and Liv caught it rather clumsily.

“What’s that?“ Helen asked and Liv opened her hand to reveal a key.

“Key’s to the honeymoon suite we were staying in. That lovely pub right across from the Globe, maybe you can go and catch a show and crash there. Won’t be needing it now.“ River grinned and turned to leave.

“Liv?“ The Doctor demanded her friend’s attention one last time, making River wait a moment longer.

“Yes?“ The med-tech looked up from the key.

“I think you’ve both waited long enough. Perspectives do change.“ The Doctor smiled encouragingly, waving a final goodbye. Then she took her wife’s hand and they made their way along the shore of the river, taking the long way around back to the TARDIS.

“What did she mean by that?“ Helen asked curiously once they were out of earshot. She turned towards her and seemed to assume that she knew exactly what the Doctor meant.

“What she means is… I need to stop being such a coward.“ Liv mumbled, taking a deep breath. How to even start? The pressure was unbearable as she considered what she stood to lose if she was wrong, but the thought of what she could gain was ever so tempting. Particularly when Helen reached out, took her hands into hers, gave them a firm, reassuring squeeze.

“You’re one of the bravest people I know!“ She insisted, full of determination and Liv could tell that she meant it.

“Not always, not when it comes to this…“ Liv sighed, averting her eyes.

“To what?“ Helen retorted, puzzled. She wasn’t making any sense to her and Liv couldn’t blame her. She couldn’t get coherent words out. “Liv, you’re scaring me, what’s going on?“ Helen raised her hand and pushed it under Liv’s chin, forcing her to meet her eyes.

Liv decided that she couldn't delay any longer. She had to do it. Maybe it was obvious to everyone but Helen who just didn’t expect it, didn’t know how to read the signs or what to do with them. Maybe it was a stupid idea but the Doctor and River seemed to think it wasn’t. Maybe they had foreknowledge they did not. They were from the future after all. Liv decided to trust them, to take the leap of faith and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her best friend’s lips.

It was like a still moment. One of those special spots in space and time that the Doctor might speak of, where everything was fixed, everything was just the way it was supposed to be and always would be. A still point in time. Liv pulled back slowly and searched Helen’s eyes, full of surprise and confusion.

“I like you, Helen. More than I think you realise or know what to do with.“ Liv whispered, unsure how to put an attraction, an affection, an adoration and admiration into words that wouldn’t scare her away and bare the heavy burden a declaration of love.

“Oh…“ Helen’s voice was soft.

“It’s uh…“ Liv started to panic when she didn’t say anything beyond that. No response. Not one way or another, just Oh. “I’m sorry.“ Heat rushed to her cheeks and she quickly let go of Helen’s hands. She took a fearful step back. She realised she had messed up. “That was stupid… forget I even, I mean… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, if you’re just not… that’s fine, you’re my friend, I don’t want to jeopardise that and…“ She started rambling excuses. She wished she could go back to before, her friendship with Helen meant everything to her. If that was all it was ever going to be, she could content herself with that, she could make her peace with it, but she couldn’t lose her.

“Liv…“ Helen held up her hands trying to calm her. “Liv, stop!“ She took a step towards her and grabbed her wildly gesticulating hands again. “Please listen…“ Liv stopped, Helen’s hands in hers pulling her back to the present, demanding her full attention. She remained quiet for a moment and just looked at Helen who ran her thumbs over the back of her hands, holding them tightly as if she was worried she would run off.

“Yes?“ Liv asked slowly, her heart hammering in her chest.

“You’re quite wonderful, you know?“ Helen smiled softly.

“I uh…“ Liv didn’t know how to respond, it was like her brain had stroked out, which, being a med-tech and all, she knew it hadn’t but that was what it felt like. Helen’s words just didn’t sink in, not until she let go of one hand to be able to place it on her cheek instead.

“You can kiss me again, if, you know… that’s something you want to do…“ She said softly, blushing a little and Liv could tell she meant it. Maybe it would take some getting used to, those feelings, and allowing herself to feel them but Liv was determined to help her along. Help her to accept them for the precious thing that they were and allow herself the freedom to find a kind of happiness that she previously hadn’t considered for herself.

“Oh I really want to…“ Liv’s inhibitions fell away in one liberating blast. She took Helen’s face in her hands and kissed her. Properly. With all the love and longing she had carried in her heart for so long and Helen didn’t pull away, she wasn’t scared or overwhelmed, she just leaned into it, kissed her back and held her close.

“You’re right, you know…“ Helen whispered as she rested her forehead against Liv’s.

“About what?“ Liv asked softly, running her fingers through Helen’s soft blonde hair like she had longed to ever since meeting her.

“With what you said in the Tower about time… and love…“ Helen closed her eyes. “Love is begun by time…“

“Shakespeare.“ Liv chuckled at the irony of them both thinking of the same quote. For all they knew, Hamlet might be having it’s world premiere at the Globe right now.

“We’ve been through so much together. Experienced so much. Spend so much time together. Precious time. Time doesn't just bring love… it’s also inhabited by it…“ Helen broke off, embarrassed and Liv wouldn’t push her for more. She had already gotten so much more than she had dared hope for. They had so much more time yet to come.

“You do have a way with words, Helen Sinclair…“ Liv whispered, not trusting her voice not to break were she to speak up.

“Well, that’s sort of my job…“ Helen chuckled and Liv laughed, shaking her head to herself. She didn’t have a way with words herself, so she just leaned in and kissed her again, confident she could get her point across another way.

“Liv? Helen? What are you…“ A voice called from down the road, footsteps hurrying closer. “Oh… Uh…“ The Doctor halted, confused for a moment.

“Doctor! We thought you were still… preoccupied…“ Liv let go of Helen who blushed like a teenager caught by their parents while making out with their crush.

“Yes, the artefact, I…“ The Doctor started but Liv interrupted him:  

“We’ve dealt with it.“

“You have?“ His face fell, almost disappointed and the two of them nodded. “Without me?“ There was a long pause as they nodded again. “Well, that’s just marvellous, isn’t it. How did you do it?“ He exclaimed after brief consideration. Helen and Liv exchanged amused glances, knowing full well he usually preferred to be the one to safe the day but they were quite capable in their own right.

“That’s a bit of a complicated story.“ Liv chuckled, wondering how to best explain without mentioning his future wife or the fact he would eventually turn into a very pretty blonde.

“I like a good story, let’s get back to the TARDIS then, if I can work out where I parked it…“ He looked around slightly disoriented. “I’ll put the kettle on and you can tell me all about it.“

“Maybe another time…“ Liv said, closing her hand around Helen’s as they started walking in search of the TARDIS.

“What?“ The Doctor looked over his shoulder, confused, watching the two of them following after him. He frowned and they could virtually see the clocks ticking in his brain. He was trying to work out what was different and why they would possibly be turning down a marvellous cup of tea.

“The recounting of the story… maybe that can wait a little while.“ Liv explained.

“Why?“ He seemed genuinely put out and they almost felt sorry for him.

“It’s just, Liv and I, we have some other stuff we want to talk about…“ Helen came to her aid, giving her hand a squeeze and Liv felt her heart soar. She had expected Helen to be more reluctant to hold her hand, particular in a public place in the distant past where it certainly was even less permissible than she had experienced. She could only hope that it didn’t feel as strange as she might have feared but the it felt extremely right.

“Right…“ The Doctor huffed, trying his best not to let his disappointment show. “Guess it’s just tea for one then… and you’re sure you don’t want me to tell you how I escaped the chambers of Queen Elizabeth?“ He looked back to find them shaking their heads.

“Not right now, no.“ Liv gave him an apologetic smile.

“Do you think he knows what’s going on?“ Helen whispered to Liv who just shrugged:

“Seems clueless as ever… Maybe he needs a few regenerations to think it over. Another five or so…“ Helen laughed a little and the Doctor started rambling again, up ahead of them, as the TARDIS come into view:

“Mind you, I have got this new novel, that’s gonna keep me busy while you do whatever it is you need to do. Came highly recommended. Detective novel, private eye in old town New York, Melody Malone, that sounds like a woman after my own heart.“

“Certainly sounds like it.“ Helen grinned and Liv laughed:

“Sounds like she would have a bag of tricks up her sleeve… or dress!“

[astarryon]

Promise Me

Ten Minutes and Two Centimeters

Warnings: Arguing, anger, light language

Chapter Summary: Spencer’s been given one more chance to make himself clear. He’s determined not to waste it.

Masterlist

Chapter Four: I Want to Take It With Me

He’s always hated hospitals.

When people ask, he tells them it has to do with trivial attributes. The lights are too bright, there are far too many germs milling about, the mass amount of crying people make him uncomfortable. And while those are all true, while he really doesn’t care for those aspects of hospitals at all, Spencer knows in his heart that it’s less to do with any of that and more to do with what hospitals symbolize for him.

People leave. It’s something he’s learned at much too early an age, yet is also something he’s still learning to cope with. His father left when he was a boy, with little more than a scrap of paper by way of explanation. His mother had gone away to the sanitarium when he was eighteen, and though he’d been the one to send her there, he’d still felt the loss. Gideon left. JJ left. Emily faked her death.

People leave.

It’s true. And with as many people who have left him over the years, Spencer figured he’d be used to it by now. But then he’d held you in his arms, cradled you as your blood slowly crept its way out of your body and onto the floor, and he’d suddenly realized that he wasn’t quite as acclimated to loss as he’d initially thought. He knows this, because when the doctor comes to alert him to the fact that you’re conscious and asking for him, it’s all he can do to keep himself from bolting upright and running straight to your room.

He does walk at a quick enough pace to earn him a dirty look from a passing nurse. Any other day, he’d make the fort to slow down and apologize. But today isn’t any other day, and he doesn’t slow his steps until he’s made it to your door and sees, with his own eyes, that you’re sitting up and smiling.

“There you are,” you giggle, beaming up at him with wide, excited eyes, and the look you give him is so reminiscent of the one on your face from last Valentine’s Day that he’s left breathless. “It’s rude to keep a girl waiting you know.”

And he wants to do witty. Really, he does, because he knows it’ll leave your face with a smile larger than life, and considering he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see that smile again up until two hours ago when the doctors notified him you’d made it through surgery, it’s all he wants. But there’s too much going on in his head, too many dark almosts and what-ifs to be properly ignored for the sake of rejoicing. This is a happy moment — and, really, he’s bursting with joy at the sight of your open eyes — but it’s not something he can display outwardly just yet. He’s too... there are too many things that need to be said before any of that takes place.

His silence confuses you, made evident by the confused glint in your eye that’s just beginning to overshadow your wide grin. “Spence?” you prompt, tilting your head to the side. The machine you’re hooked up to beeps with the spike in your heart rate, and he has to go out of his way not to tease you for it. “Did you hear me?”

Your tone shifts, and he hears the worry in your voice just as he takes note of how it begins to curl your mouth into a frown. “Spencer,” you try again, quietly pleading. He hates himself for what he’s doing, but he can’t seem to stop himself from allowing the events he’s set in motion to play out. “Spencer, what’s wrong?”

He has to say it. Before anything else, he has to say it.

Spencer swallows hard against the lump in his throat. Liquid hellfire burns his eyes in the form of unshed tears. “Do you know,” he chokes out, “how incredibly unlucky a person has to be to get hit with a shot like that? Actually shot? You were wearing a vest. The bullet hit you a centimeter too high. One centimeter lower and we would’ve walked out of there in the next thirty seconds. Two centimeters higher and you’d have—“ He cuts himself off, the horrid taste of potentials staining his tongue uninvited. He doesn’t even want to say it, doesn’t want to give power to what could have happened to you tonight. To what almost happened to you tonight.

“Spencer,” you whisper, reaching for his hand, but he snatches it out of reach before you can make contact.

“No,” he insists, wringing his hands together. He has to keep them preoccupied. His body seems steadfastly determined to betray his mind, and much as he wants to, he can’t let that happen. There are certain things he needs to get off his chest, say out loud, before he can even think about letting himself give into you. It’s the only way to make sure. It kills him, but it’s the only way. “You don’t understand, I almost… I could’ve lost you tonight. You were ten minutes and two centimeters away from dying in my arms.”

“But I didn’t,” you counter, and he knows. He sees the furrow of your brow, the stubborn set to your delicate jaw, and he knows you’re about to throw it all right back at him. “I’m still here, Spencer, you still have me.”

“Because of chance!” He doesn’t realize he’s shouting until he see you flinch, but he can’t stop, can’t back down. “You’re still alive because of dumb luck! Dumb, stupid luck, that very easily could’ve gone the other way!”

“But it didn’t,” you shoot back, and Spencer has to kill the urge to scoff. As if that’s an excuse.

“It could have.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t!”

“It could have!”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you gave up!” Spencer roars, tears pricking like thorns at the corners of his eyes. “You gave up, and the worst part about it is that you expected me to just be okay with it! Don’t—“ He flings a hand through the air to silence you as soon as your mouth opens. He’s seething, shaking, boiling with rage. He has to get it all out, and he has to do it now, or he risks poisoning any chance of your future together with unspoken resentment. “You started talking about yourself like you were already dead! Started making me promise that I wasn’t going to let losing you stop making me smile! Do you even— do you know how ridiculous that is? How unfair? You were bleeding out in my arms, and you were worried about my fucking smile? I was two centimeters away from having to bury you six feet underground, and you were worried about my smile? My smile should’ve been the last thing on your mind!”

He expects you to yell back at him. It’s only fair, after all, and he wouldn’t fault you for taking cheap shots at him the way he’s taking cheap shots at you. In some sick, twisted way, he almost wants you to, if only to find some confirmation that he isn’t alone in feeling the severity of this situation so deeply. Doesn’t it effect you? Doesn’t the fact that the rest of your life was nearly stolen away right out from under you bother you? Aren’t you seething over the fact that the rest of your forever was nearly cut short?

If you are, you make no show of it. You don’t raise your voice, you don’t curse, you don’t take it out on him the way he’s taking it out on you. You only blink, analytical appraisal clear as day in your tired eyes, and not for the first time since you’d come into his life, Spencer is left to marvel over how much better a person you are than he is. He could never say something like that out loud — thinking you’d ever let him get away with it is, in a word, naive — he knows the truth, even if the chances of you admitting to it are nonexistent.

You prove him right when you reach forward slowly, keeping eye contact and making sure you have permission, before resting your hand against the mangled mess of his own. “Spencer,” you murmur, searching his face. For what, he’s not entirely sure, but you must find it judging by the degree of which your eyes soften. “What is this about?”

“I told you,” he tries, knowing all too well that he doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest. You see him much too clearly — he should have known better than to think he could hide what was truly bothering him from you. “You almost died in my arms, I... it was too much to handle.”

“No, Spence,” you tell him, the embodiment of patience. “I mean what’s this about, really?” You make it clear that you aren’t leaving any room for protests this time around.

So Spencer decides to tell the truth.

“You almost died,” he whispers, shaking his head. “And I realized if you had, you’d never...”He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the floor, to look up at you and memorize every inch of your face a million times over like he wants to. The way he’s acting, he’s not particularly sure he deserves the luxury. “You’d have never known. I never told you.”

“Never known what?” you ask gently, blinking in pursuit of understanding. “Never told me what?”

“That I love you,” Spencer breathes, gripping your hands so tightly he can feel your pulse through your fingers. “I love you so much I can barely fucking breathe sometimes. I love when you laugh about things that only you think are funny because no one else understands the joke. I love the way you can’t seem to sit still for more than fifteen seconds at a time because there’s so much on your mind and not enough time in the world to get it all out. I love the way you let me talk your ear off about things you’ve never heard of and don’t care about, even though I’m sure I must bore you out of your mind sometimes. I love— I love your smile! You always tell me I have a beautiful smile, but the truth is it doesn’t hold a candle to yours, and I— I don’t understand how you don’t see that! I love you, do you hear me? From the very bottom of my heart, I love you so fucking much. I love you.”

For a moment, you fall silent, and the only sound traded between the two of you is the steady beat coming from your heart monitor, incredibly consistent considering all the yelling. But then a chuckle falls from your mouth. Spencer is so shocked that at first he thinks it’s an odd sounding cough, but then it happens again, and then again, and he’s able to piece together what’s happening with the addition of the succession.

“Spencer,” you wheeze, clutching at your chest. He hopes you aren’t in pain. His ears are turning red with embarrassment and he can’t believe you’re laughing at him at a time like this, but he really hopes you aren’t hurting. “You don’t think I know that already?”

He blinks, mind shorting out. “Well, I— I never told you.”

“You never had to,” you go on, the widest grin he’s ever seen your mouth make splitting your face from ear to ear. Spencer doesn’t think he can remember a time when you’ve ever looked so positively delighted. “Spencer, I wouldn’t have... we wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t think you loved me. I wouldn’t have let it.”

You knew. You’d known this whole time. All this time — all those nights tangled in his bedsheets with your arm secured around his waist, all those good morning texts and flirtatious jabs at the office, wondering when everyone else was going to catch on to your little game. All those sweet kisses and affectionate embraces and evening walks beneath the starlit sky. All those different ways he’d tried to silently convey it, and you’d been picking up on his meaning the whole time.

Had he known... had he known that you’d known...

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispers. It’s all he can think to say.

“You don’t need to be,” you tell him with a resolute shake of your head. Of course; you’re the most gracious person he knows, after all. Not even getting yelled at immediately after waking up from emergency surgery could change that. “Just... I know you’ve already made me so many promises tonight. I know that. But will you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything,” he tells you, and he means it with his entire being, body and soul.

“Just... trust that I know,” you murmur, gazing at him with more sincerity than any one person has ever shown him before. “In the way that you know that I love you, trust that I know that you love me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he murmurs, nodding his head. “Okay. I promise.”

You reach for his hands, still tightly clasped in front of him, and this time when your fingers brush his knuckles, he frees one and lets you take it to hold. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”

And for the first time after hearing you speak those words, Spencer isn’t given pause.

“I love you too,” he tells you adamantly.

... And he does.

—

[janetbrown711]

“Please just hold on a little longer. I can’t loose you too.” Yakko Wakko dot

Yakko knew things wouldn’t feel the same after Wakko left, he just hadn’t expected it to this degree. 

At first, it had been okay. Not pleasant, nor was it enjoyable, but... bearable. With Wakko being gone, and Dot often needing to nap to preserve her strength, Yakko was left alone with his thoughts, something he was hating more and more. Times like that he wished he was a normal kid with normal kid problems. 

He missed his parents a lot during those times too. 

He had vague memories of being sick when he was a kid. His mother held him close, never leaving his side and singing softly to him. His father would tell him tales of battles he had fought in his knight days. He also told the story of how they met. 

He loved that story, and would’ve given anything to hear them tell it again. 

Yakko sighed. It had been nearly five years and he still missed them. 

 However, it wasn’t all bad. They only had to move once from winter to spring, and it seemed Yakko had a stroke of luck because just a little way outside of the town was an empty water-tower like building that was empty, except for two beds. Two whole beds. Yakko couldn’t even recall what it felt like to sleep in a bed, so he was overjoyed and full of excitement to show Dot. 

Dot had been delighted to hear she’d have her own room and a giant bed of her own. Normally, Yakko was supposed to take the bigger bed, he was older and taller, but he wanted his sister to be as comfortable as possible. After all, she could very well-...

You know...

There were some sentences Yakko still wasn’t ready to finish. 

However, that stroke of luck ended, and by May, Dot had hit another rough patch- a really, really rough patch. So much so that he considered writing Wakko a letter to return, but Wakko hadn’t written in a little while and Yakko wouldn’t have known where to address it. 

It was moments like that that just made Yakko think, “Wow, this really sucks.”

“Y-yakko-” Dot called hoarsely from her room. 

“I’m coming Dot, i’m coming,” He said as he finished preparing her a bowl of soup as quick as he could. He really hated leaving Dot alone, even for a second, like this. He never felt sure she was alive unless he was there, and watching her breathe. 

“I’m back,” Yakko said as he entered and set the bowl down on the little nightstand he had made for her next to her bed, before scooting next to her in bed before she snuggled up next to him. 

“Dot, you can’t snuggle now, you need to eat,” He pointed out. Dot shook her head weakly. 

“Not hu-hungry-” She tried to say, but got interrupted by a lengthy cough that was bad enough to make Yakko cringe as he patted her back. 

“C’mon Dot, you know it’s for your own good,” Yakko said. Dot didn’t look at him. Sighing, Yakko added, “If you can’t do it for you... can you at least do it for me?” 

Dot glanced at him after that. He silently pleaded with his eyes and Dot begrudgingly sat up and nodded. Yakko was thankful that argument still worked: he wasn’t sure what he was going to do when/if it didn’t. That didn’t matter though, as that wasn’t the here and now, and Yakko began to feed her the soup. 

Dot had always had a distaste for the soup, and Yakko couldn’t really blame her. The herbs and medicines the doctor had recommended didn’t smell all too good, nor did they taste pleasant, but they were good for her so she had to have it. Today, she wasn’t putting up much of a fight and willingly swallowed, which meant Yakko could rest easy tonight knowing she had at least something in her system today, something he couldn’t quite say for himself.

After a while, it was clear Dot had had enough and he set the bowl aside, and Dot cuddled back into him, but Yakko noticed that she clearly had something on her mind today, and whatever it was it was clearly bothering her. Yakko took in a deep breath, and mentally prepared himself before asking what was the matter. 

“Yakko, what were Mom and Dad like?” she asked weakly. 

“M-mon and Dad?” Yakko blinked. Of all the questions she could’ve possibly asked, he hadn’t prepared himself for that one. Dot nodded. 

“W-well... Dad was a handsome knight who had married a beautiful princess,” he said. 

“I know that Yakko... I mean what were they really like? Personalities, likes and dislikes, loves and hates,” Dot looked up at him. Yakko grimaced, but internally cursed himself for that. Dot had a right to be curious, she was less than a year old when everything happened, and Yakko had plenty of time to prepare himself for this moment. 

“Well... Dad was really strong, and really really wise. He loved reading and liked to read me and Wakko bedtime stories,” Yakko said. “But he was also really funny, and he liked doing bad magic tricks for Wakko that made mom cringe,” he chuckled a little at the memory and was happy when he saw Dot was doing the same. 

“But Mom still loved him, right?” Dot asked. 

“Of course, that was one of the things she loved about him. He always made her smile,” Yakko smiled a little, hearing her in his head. 

“What about Mom?” Dot asked. Yakko felt himself cringe as a swarm of memories flooded his mind that he pushed back, stuff he definitely wasn’t going to tell her. 

“She... she was beautiful, witty, and kind, and a lot like you,” Yakko said, looking down at his little sister and noticing how true his words were. 

“Really?” Dot said, trying to sit up, but was too weak, so Yakko helped her. 

“Of course. There’s a reason you two share names,” He joked. 

“Her name was Dot too?” She tilted her head. 

“No, her name was Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca II, and your full name is Princess Angelina Contessa Lousisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca III,” Yakko said. Dot smiled. 

“I like that name,” She smiled weakly. 

“It’s a very good name,” Yakko nodded. 

“Better than Wakkorotti,” Dot added, and Yakko snorted. 

“You got that right, just don’t tell Wakko,” He laughed. Dot nodded and did a “lips sealed” motion, before coughing weakly and returning to her cuddling position. Yakko tiredly sighed. 

“I’m sure if she were still alive she’d be very proud of you- they both would be. They loved you very much and were willing to die if it meant you would be safe,” Yakko practically whispered as he stroked the fur on the top of her head softly. However, after he said that, Dot started to cry, which confused Yakko. 

“Hey- what’s the matter?” He asked, equal parts confused and concerned.

“M-m-mom a-and dad d-died a-and I-i s-still m-might d-die and i-it’ll be for nothing a-and you’ll b-be sad a-again a-and Wakko is-isn’t here a-and- a-and-” Dot quickly lost control of her words and began to give in and sob into his chest. 

“Dot- don’t say that,” Yakko was aghast. He honestly had no idea where such thoughts had come from. 

“B-but it’s true,” She sniffled. “Th-they died to pr-protect u-us b-but I’m gonna die a-any way.” 

“Dot, you aren’t going to die,” Yakko frowned. 

“B-but...”

“No ‘but’s Dot. You can’t die. I won’t let you,” Yakko stated. “There is nothing on this planet I wouldn't do to keep you alive, and if death wants to take you he’ll have to get through me first,” he said. 

“But I don’t want you to die! Wakko needs you!” Dot pleaded with teary eyes. 

“Y-you... you need to stop caring about me... I don’t want you to be sad...” she muttered quietly and Yakko couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“No. I refuse,” He shook his head. 

“Yakko, please, I’m hurting you. You can’t care about me anymore,” She said, trying to push him away with all of her might, but her efforts were ineffective.

“Well, that’s tough. Because whether or not you want me to care about you, I’m gonna. Do you know why?” He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look him in the eyes. 

“Because you’re my baby sister, and it’s my sworn duty as your older brother to take care of you. I love you Dot, and nothing is ever going to change that. I’d never, ever stop caring about you, no matter how much you beg me to.” 

“B-b-but-”

“No ‘but’s Dot. I love you, nothing, and I mean nothing, is ever going to change that,” He quickly wrapped her into a hug, and she buried her head in his arms and cried more, and he didn’t even flinch when the cries mixed with coughs, he was determined to never let her go. 

The pair stayed like that until Dot was able to wear herself out, exhausted by the emotional outburst. Still, it seemed to be slightly therapeutic, as the certain tension that had been with her for the last few days seemed to have weakened. 

Yakko stood and kissed her forehead as he tucked her in. 

“Please don’t give up yet Dot,” He thought as he smiled tiredly at her. “I know what I said, but I’m scared too. I just... I can’t afford to lose you too.”

“Goodnight Dot,” He said out loud. 

“Wait Yakko-” She grabbed his arm. 

“Yes?” He questioned. 

“Can... can you stay with me tonight?” Dot looked away nervously. 

“Of course,” Yakko smiled tenderly, which only increased as he saw the joy it brought to her as she skooched aside so there was adequate room for him. It was a big bed, and though it was full of hay and not feathers, it still was plenty big and comfortable enough for the both of them. 

“Goodnight Dot,” Yakko said as she snuggled up close. 

“Goodnight Yak,” Dot smiled weakly before sniffling and shivering slightly. Yakko held her closer and the shiver subsided. 

Dot had no idea what she had been talking about. Yakko was never ever going to stop caring about her. He didn’t care if it would hurt him more in the long run, the last thing he wanted to end up was bitter and alone. He promised his mom he’d take care of his siblings and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop caring now. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

[geekys-corner]

Mind listing the OCs/personas and a couple facts about them? (Might help with questions lol)

Sure! I’ve written 16 below lmao *sticks in a read more*

Anthony - Originally my version of Anti, he’s now a sweet bean who really likes plants. In his backstory and the start of his story, he was found in a tiny pocket dimension inside his old apartment while he and the place around him fell into disrepair with the only thing truly alive being his plants. After losing his entire family, he was very fragile and hurt himself quite a bit, but my other characters rescued him and nursed him back to health and stability!

Onyx - My angsty punk dude who I adore. He is on the autistic spectrum and is mostly non-verbal, once going 4 months without speaking before breaking the silence to tell his best friend that Viggo Mortenson broke his toe in that one scene in Lord of the Rings. They have a twin sister who is 13 minutes older and a firm witch while he is a firm nonbeliever. Sometimes he goes to the junkyard with a baseball bat to let out their anger.

Leon - His backstory is very dark so I won’t get into it, but he’s a very shy bean with one arm and a love for sewing. He has the fluffiest light pink hair, and is just the embodiment of pastel.

Kyle - The older brother of the duo! He’s friends with Onyx and also has a punk look with spiked blue hair, but he’s an absolute sweetheart! He’s eight years older than his brother, and ran away with him when he was a newborn to escape their abusive mother. He raised Joey on his own in the streets, escaping care systems that would split them apart and shove them in to foster homes, and grew up to be completely independent, albeit unaware of what it is like to have a loving family besides his brother. He may be quick to resort to fight or flight to protect his brother and grumpy to strangers, but he’s built them a good life!

Joseph - The little brother! Joey is a smart little kid, (ranging from 10 - 14 depending) with very bright ginger hair and freckles. He’s on the far side of the autistic spectrum and is completely nonverbal, but he’s very expressive, spunky, and loving whenever he’s able to. He adores peanut butter and milkshakes, and would very happily have them six times a day. While he can’t speak, he will send Kyle countless facts from astronomy or marine life through text at any time of day or night. He’s always seen in his blue skateboarding frog hoodie, a beetle backpack filled with his supplies, and his headphones and tablet. He loves to draw and he’s great at it, and always draws sharks, especially whale sharks.

Caelan - Another punk, but this time in bird form. He is a griffin, and in some AUs a dude with prosthetic feet. He has messy blond hair covering his eyes and is based around an Egyptian falcon. He’s very quick witted and very annoying to people who don’t know him, but would go to hell and back for his family. 

Marioma - The model of a modern major general- this dude is the only one like him, meaning he has no AU counterparts! He’s different from my other characters since he’s technically self-aware, and acts in my stories if and when I want him to! He’s a grumpy, determined dude who’s trying to quit smoking per request of his boyfriend, Arthur. Before him, he was a sly, hardened, and cunning man who needed someone to rely on who wouldn’t die on him.

Arthur - Foster fails: 5. He owns a bookstore in the universe he inhabits and, just like Mari, he’s one of a kind! He lives the ideal rainy city aesthetic, with an apartment above his store with open windows, plants, cosy blankets and homemade food, handmade clothing, and animals. He’s got curly hair and his scarf is his comfort item, and he takes in animals if and when he can. He and Mari just live a comfortable life :’)

Clyde - A duo with Anthony, he was originally a version of Henrik, but is now completely different. This boy is a classic OC and therefore my teenage angst punching bag. He’s a doctor in his husband Lucas’ mafia, and is very strong-willed and the biggest sweetheart. He has water powers that I always forget about, and could very easily drown someone if he wanted to. Besides that, he does cry a lot over small things, and Lucas has walked in on him crying over their cat in a business-tie.

Levi - If he and Clyde fused, they’d make Henrik. He’s my 55 year old doctor who just the embodiment of grumpy cat and expresso. He’s very lanky and has joint problems after trauma in his late 20s, and sometimes you can hear his bones cracking as he walks. He has, can, and will slap the sense into Clyde when he needs to and hated him to begin with, but warmed up to him. But, he’s completely different to his husband Sage, and in the end, is a very caring guy who won’t take any shit. He’s also therapist, and gives sessions to most of my OCs- (he’s also the doctor at the end of Don’t Leave! Dr Allison!)

Tyrell (Cloak) - So I split the same OC into two halves, essentially from two AUs but in one? They’re not twins, they’re the same guy with separate families but they’re the same. They’re both POC with the same face, hair texture etc. Cloak-Ty is very grumpy, and is called Cloak because of the cloak he wears in his fantasy-based AUs! He wears an eye patch and lost his eye depending on the AU, and went through a lot. You can tell he’s angsty because half of his hair is buzzed off. He tried to push away his now-husband Demitri, but luckily he’s an absolute himbo who doesn’t know when to quit, and eventually melted through the icy layer to a loving, sarcastic, hard-working man.

Tyrell (Ponytail) - Same as above description wise! He’s taller and buff with a ponytail. He went through the same backstory, but was found by Daniel who took him to Lucas’ mafia where they recovered together and eventually fell in love. Half of his face is badly burned and the eye has pin-hole vision, but it doesn’t stop him from being the best sniper on the team. When at home, he loves tea, hanging with his family, and painting. He’s amazing at watercolour and earns money on the side from selling his work! Sometimes he and Dan team up and draw together!

Bloodbranded:

Wayde - He lives in the Winter Forest Region and hunts for his family with his exceptional archery skills. He’s witty and pretty spontaneous, making him good under pressure, but incredibly reckless. He has a bad claw scar across his right eye which cuts into his hair, but he can see just fine! He has beautiful green eyes with central heterochromia, so they turn brown in the centre. While he may be annoying and hot-headed, he cares a whole bunch and grows as a person to fall in love with Milo. He’s a hopeless romantic and protective as all hell, even when Milo can handle himself just fine.

Felicity - She wasn’t born in the WFR like Wayde, she was adopted by her two mothers and is Wayde’s cousin! She’s a POC with beautiful dark skin, and her parents style her hair in unique braids that are decorated by gold rings. She’s a magic user and a very skilled one at that, even when she’d just started out, and wishes to revive the old form of magic that had been taken over by the modern, corrupted magic form that’s based entirely on nepotism. She uses a staff and a book, and is clumsy to start out, but soon becomes a mage to be admired, or feared if you’re an enemy!

Milo - Unlike Felicity and Wayde, he was born in the desert region, and ends up in the WFR by mistake (which is a vast change in temperature for him). Because of the contrast in temperature, he’s always wrapped up in winter clothes, even in places where the others are sleeveless, just because he’s spent his whole life in the heat! When he’s at home, he lives with his Mother and goes out to collect lightning glass after the nightly storms to sell and turn into jewellery or windows etc. Milo was born deaf and uses sign language to communicate. He’s smart, energetic, and excited to see new things, but can handle himself with ease, and knows how to take care of himself through quick thinking and fighting skills from living in the desert. When he and Wayde start dating, he likes coming up behind him and cuddling him or giving him quick kisses!

Prism - Much like their name, they are very colourful. They are a dragon hybrid and live in a kingdom of others like them, but unlike any other dragon, their scales are - like their name - prisms. They gradient between rainbows across their body, but each scale has a rainbow shimmer when they move. Their wings are like stained glass, and their hair (as of now, it might change) is like labradorite! Prism is mute and doesn’t express much, usually communicating through eye rolls. They live as the King’s new heir after he took them in as he believes Prism is the symbol of their kingdom and species’ beauty. Because of this, they are completely untouched by any blade and don’t have a single blemish or scar as to preserve them. Many guards have died to prevent them from obtaining even the slightest scratch. Beyond their anxiety, they join the crew and act as the voice/sign of reason! Even if they are assigned to their kingdom, they soon learn that their friends truly care about them more than their appearance.

That’s most of my OCs, this is already super long so I don’t want to drag it on! If anyone is interested in any OC, feel free to drop an ask, I’d love to write one shots or answer questions! <3 ^^

[um-in-o]

Charachter astrology: Leorio and Kurapika

Just like for the first post i'm only going to discuss sun, moon and rising signs along with possible dominants and elements. Also I'm keeping the sun signs/birth dates that Togashi came up with because they are super accurate and he chose them with intention.

Let's start with Sun signs: Pisces and Aries. Beginnings and endings, leading and supporting, taking action and dreaming, doing and feeling. Total opposites. Aries is ruled by mars, planet of passion, ambition and fighting spirit, Pisces is ruled by Neptune (Venus and Jupiter). The sun sign represents the ego, the self and the center of the personality. Kurapika is in fact a headstrong, stubbord and fiery person. He Is dominated by his ambition, his rage and his pride(ex: The first episode). He wishes to keep his anger and thirst for revenge alive and burning because he has built his whole life, and personality, around it. When in reality without the tragedy of his family he could have been a fun loving, passionate leading figure for others. Not that he isn't anymore, he's just buried away anything that wasn't useful to him in his quest for vengeance. So he kept the rage, ambition and impulsiveness of the aries while throwing away the fun, free spirited, naif persona. He has the most troubled heart of the four. Leorio on the other hand has the calmest heart. He is soothing, watery, healing. He is caring, kind and loving. When confronted with his own trauma, instead of pushing away his vulnerable side like Kurapika he exaggerated the traits that he saw useful to others. He wasn't able to save his childhood friend trough feelings alone so he became a doctor to share his care and to help to as many people as possible. His " "revenge" was more internal, as in " i'll show the world that I'm not helpless" and as in beating himself up for what happened even though It was out of his control. Kurapika's quest is self destructive, Leorio's healing.

( reminder: i'm not judging I love them both equally so so much)

The Moon: emotions, the vulnerable and hidden self, intuition. Leorio's emotions are intense, passionate and lead him to be impulsive and get angry quickly. Kurapika Is pretty rational and detached from his emotions but when he is in touch he's witty, fun to be around and anxious for others. Leorio is an aries moon while Kurapika is a gemini moon. Leorio wears his heart on his sleeves and you can get him mad in seconds and it's pretty fun to see. The combo Pisces sun and aries moon makes him pretty naïve and idealistic but also super duper lovable as he is honesty personified( take the election arc). Also both Kurapika and Leorio were ready to throw hands at Gon's last match for the exam but Leorio went about it in a more simply aggressive way while Kurapika was equally angry but also more controlled and that made him scarier. Kurapika rationalises everything, he doesn't need to feel he needs to think. He Is the smartest of the four and he loves to brag about his knowledge. He knows a lot of culturally diverse stuff and he reads a lot. He's good at coming up with strategies ( i mean... the fucking boat arc ). Yet his emotional intelligence is on the low. Not towards others, absolutely not, but towards himself. He pretends he can control his feelings, his body, his mind and when he cannot he breaks down. He is fundamentally anxious and a perfectionist (Kill ALL the members, get all the eyes etc). However when calm and balance he's funny in a sarcastic and Witty manner, he loves to banter and to jokingly provoke Leorio for example. He can also be reliable and quick thinking in stressful situations.

Finally the rising sign: the persona we show others and the qualities that we project outwards. Kurapika and Leorio both have in common the fact that they present each other in a way that's pretty different from Who they are deep down. Probably because, unlike the children, they have more experience with the world and its dangers and difficulties so they feel like they have to put up a front. Leorio Is a capricorn rising and Kurapika an aquarius rising. Leorio wants to be seen as an adult ( not an old man though), a business man, someone respectable and with authority. And what does he believe to have the most Power and authority? Money. So he always dresses up , he brings with him his medical supplies in a briefcase wherever he goes. He wants to be taken seeiously and wants to be seen as someone who is in control. In the beginning he also acts coldly towards Gon and Killua only to have his heart warmed pretty damn soon ( Remember the First episode and the fight with Kurapika?). Kurapika on the other hand appears as someone who is completely detached from others, cold, intellectual, calm and collected and a bit bratty. He seems to think likes he's better(and smarter)than others at first only to show his caring, sensitive and passionate side later on. He has trust issues and like Leorio has experienced grief associated to loss so it's only natural that he hides his feelings to others while only showing his strenght, when needed, and his sharp toungue and wit.

To me this SCREAMS that they are deeply connected ( yes romantically) to one another because they complement eachother perfectly while still having some similar charachteristics. They also went trough similar experiences and know and understand eachother better than anyone else.

They are both hot headed and impulsive and passionate (Aries and Fire Energy) but Leorio is more open and balanced (water and earth) while Kurapika is detached and separated and extremely imbalanced( air dominant).

Again: like Gon and Killua, if they just open up( and with this I mean Kurapika) and come toghether they can help one another a lot just by being close.

Hope you enjoyed!

[talesofstyles]

Masterlist

Alright babies, I’ve decided to put all my writings in one place so it’ll be easier for you to find them. There aren’t a lot yet but you’ve got more things coming your way. Bonne lecture!

* denotes filth

One Shots

Happy Anniversary*

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry, lawyer!harry

In which you celebrate your anniversary in Harry’s office

***

“Don’t chuck me just yet,” he jokes, and you can feel the words said against your lips at the same time as you hear them.

You give him another quick kiss, giggling as you pull away. “Don’t worry,” you shake your head. “Not for another fifty years.”

“Make it seventy, will ya?” A sly smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Sixty five,” you deadpan. “Give or take.”

He’s chuckling as he lets one of his palms slide up your leg, the other running down your back, stopping just above your arse. His grins widen when he doesn’t feel anything else beside your work dress covering them. “You’re not wearing anything under this?”

“Not a stitch,” you murmur.

***

Good Morning Indeed*

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry

In which Harry and his wife is trying to sneak in a little quickie in the midst of the family’s morning chaos. Followed by 50/50 bread tantrums, wrestling a biscuit-hunting kid who’s set on having Hobnobs for breakfast and two stroppy teething babies. Fun.

***

She grinds her hips. Also another well-rehearsed move that she knows will get me off. But I freeze again, because there’s a second set of footsteps and the sound of a toilet flushing. Oh, and the babies next door are starting to whimper.

Great.

“I’M HUNGRY!” That’s James, darling little cockblocker number four who likes to be fed on time. He’s three.

“WE’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND!” My wife shouts over my shoulder. “Harry for the love of god-”

I pick up the rhythm. Small beads of sweat form on my brow. She grinds her hips again, and I try to focus. “Just like that, fuck, keep doing that.”

“Sshh, keep your voice down.”

“IS THERE ANY BREAD THAT ISN’T 50/50?” That’s Eleanor, child number two. She’s seven, and she’s one of those children who seem to possess a discernible palate that knows when we’ve changed brands of baked beans or attempt to bring sugar-free fruit squash through the doors.

“IT’S THE SAME,” I reply.

“NO, IT’S NOT. DO WE HAVE OTHER FOOD?”

“THERE ARE SHREDDIES.”

“DON’T LIKE ‘EM.”

“PORRIDGE.”

“I’M NOT A BEAR!”

Honestly, seven-year-olds gunning for a fight this early in the morning can go do one.

***

Drs Styles*

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry, doctor!harry

***

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to those days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt.

“Well, I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would’ve been confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

��Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige.

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to kiss me. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

***

Reconcile

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry 

In which nearly divorced Harry is trying to win his wife back. Oh and his bitter nine-year-old daughter.

***

“He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do.

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight.

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

***

Reconcile II*

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry

***

There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage.

I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside.

Not yet. I need a moment.

These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns.

I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.

“Harry?”

I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I should be the one apologising, Em.”

“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”

“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”

We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster.

“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”

Emma laughs under her breath.

“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife.

“He is.”

“That got legs?” I ask her.

“Possibly.”

“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”

“Harry…”

“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”

***

Stitches and Pucks*

tags: hockey!harry, boyfriend!harry

In which LA King’s best player (on and off the ice) has had enough scoring puck bunnies and is now whipped by the new team doctor. 

***

“Let me drive you home,” I quickly say before she gets the chance to order a ride. Not sure why I did that because I certainly have never offered women a ride home without the promise of getting in their knickers, and I can assure you that I won’t be getting anywhere near hers tonight, but maybe I just don’t want this night to end yet.

We’ve been glued at the hip from the moment I bought her first drink, and three hours purely just talking with the same woman? That’s a record in my book. While I’m not ashamed to admit that I also like looking at her, honestly, to me that’s just an added bonus. I think it’s safe to say that I have never met anyone like her before. Granted, with most women usually there wasn’t much talking, but from what I learnt in just the span of three hours is that this doctor of mine is a hell of a lot of fun.

I swear she’s just a pure fucking joy to be around. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. She’s bright and witty and she’s one of those people that knows no strangers. She can easily talk about anything from politics to sports even to crude jokes, and add on to that, she’s just so kind and inclusive that several times tonight I actually had to drag her away to one of the back tables so we could have a proper chat without the crowd around us.

“You don’t have to,” she gives me a hesitantly sweet smile.

“But I want to,” I gallantly insist as I turn and offer my arm to her. “Come on, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

“Well, alright then,” she smirks, her hand easily slides into the crook of my elbow. “I could save a few bucks.”

I roll my eyes and tease her, “didn’t take you to be such a skinflint.”

“Hey!” She playfully slaps my arm with her other hand as she laughs and I’m glad I amuse her.

No, seriously... I like her laugh.

There’s no doubt that she wants me, just as there’s no doubt that I totally want her. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on all night, and plenty of innuendo, but I won’t be surprised nor disappointed if she doesn’t invite me inside when we get to her home and nothing happens tonight.

We’ll get there, I’m sure.

Until then, I’m completely fine drinking beer, being her personal chauffeur, and getting to know her a little better.

***

Quid Pro Quo

tags: lawyer!harry, enemies to lovers

In which you can’t stand your colleague.

***

“I tell you what, this is ironclad,” you let out a heavy sigh as you throw the document on the coffee table in defeat. “Houdini wouldn’t even get out of this contract.”

“We need to adjourn,” Harry suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Regroup tomorrow to get to the bottom of this with clear heads. I’ve got a trial at half nine but I’ll be done by noon.”

“I can’t rest before we figure this out,” you state stubbornly, pausing for a second to let out a yawn. “But you go home. I’ll let you know if I’ve got something.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You have to rest. If you were to come up with something you would’ve by now.”

You feel a stab of indignation. “Are you saying that I’m not capable of getting to the bottom of this myself?”

***

The Law of Attraction*

tags: lawyer!harry

Sort of continuation of Quid Pro Quo. In which YN is using Harry to get over her ex, and well... he’s not complaining because she’s a damn good lay.

***

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks and she turns to look at him. He gives her a tiny smirk before his eyes get back on the road, but he reaches his hand out to her bare knee to give her a squeeze. “Still haven’t answered me, doll.”

“Sorry- what did you ask?”

“Why did you want me to go with you?” He asks again. “He wants to merge, right? That’s totally your thing. You don’t need me.”

“You helped me with his crisis a few months ago,” she reminds him. “Just thought we could do his business together again. He’ll be happy he’s getting two partners, the firm will be happy because they can charge double. It’s a win-win, really.”

“Bollocks that,” Harry laughs. “Worst bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s all, honest,” she feigns innocence.

“Honey, I didn’t go through law school for nothing, did I?” He replies without moving his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re using me as a human condom, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” She drops her jaw in shock at the fact that he calls her out on the carpet just like that.

“You’re afraid you’ll catch feelings again if you’re left alone with him, so you bring me as a shield. Am I right?” He asks her with an accusatory eyebrow raise. “You know what, no need to answer that. Of course I’m right.”

“I told you, he’s just a client now,” she insists, trying to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Harry’s hand inches its way up her thigh. It’s incredibly arousing, but she also finds it a little disturbing since they’re having a conversation about a man she’s head over heels for. She almost want him to stop but fuck if she’s going to ask him.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,” he says, and it’s really hard for her to concentrate on what he’s saying since he’s squeezing her thigh. His fingers pressing deep into her muscles and she can only wish they’re a few inches higher. “But if in any way you want to get him back, just say the word and I’ll back away, yeah?”

***

Did I Break It?*

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry

In which you and Harry share a glass of wine in the kitchen and enjoy scraps of leftovers from the kids while trying to figure out Year 3 maths homework. Followed by a giggly, quite realistic smut because some nights aren’t just meant to be, are they?

***

“Here, check your boy’s homework then,” you can’t help but grin as you slide his maths book across the counter.

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he mutters jokingly as he catches the book, and his eyes widen as he looks at the questions. “Whoa, equivalent fractions. Year 3 kids do that now? What ‘appened to number lines?”

You let out a hearty laugh. “I know right?! I’m pretty sure I did this in Year 5.”

“Okay, we’ve got this,” he rolls up his sleeves, making you laugh even harder, before tucking a pencil behind one of his ears. “Six over twelve is blank over ninety six. Fuck, what’s ninety six divided by twelve?”

“Now’s the time to use yer brain innit, big head?” You tease him this time.

“Oi!” He complains, trying to sound annoyed but the smile plastered across his face is hard to miss. “Be nice t’me.”

***

In Sickness And In Health*

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry

After the birth of the twins, Harry and YN’s marriage suffers.

***

Sometimes, when the frustration takes over, Harry can’t help but wonder if he could just confront her. ‘What do you want, really? Do you want to get a divorce? Just say it.’ Because he’s tired of feeling helpless. He’s tired of feeling like he may have a little hope one second yet having it crushed the next. But when he sees her, he doesn’t have the heart to.

She’s YN, his wife. He loves her and he can’t lose her.

***

Mess Is Mine

tags: dad!harry

A three-part story about a single dad Harry and single mum YN.

***

“Well, she’s named after me mum so she’s definitely her favourite grandchild so far,” Harry grins. “She’s basically Anya’s second parent, my mum.”

“Oh, I thought her mother is Russian!” YN exclaims. “I love her name.”

Harry’s grin widens as he shakes his head. “Thank you. No, my mum’s name is Anne and I want to name my daughter after her, but having two Anne(s) would be confusing. So I opted for another version of Anne.”

“That’s a really gorgeous name. Your mum must be very happy,” YN says as she tucks her hands inside her pockets because it’s getting a bit chilly.

“Definitely made her my mum’s favourite grandchild for sure. Well, she’s currently her only grandchild so that may change sometime soon,” Harry says proudly, grinning even wider. “I’m gonna be an uncle in a few weeks.”

***

Mess Is Mine II

tags: dad!harry

***

His eyes widen in surprise when YN giggles. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“What?!” He looks at her, surprised. “So you knew? All this time?”

YN is clearly having fun with this. “Knew what?” She asks nonchalantly.

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t ya?” He says, his eyes twinkle in delight. “That I fancy ya?”

YN giggles again, folding her arms. “Well, you weren’t being very subtle but you weren’t straightforward either.”

“Tha’ a yes, then?” Harry grins, taking another slug of his wine.

YN smiles back at him. “That’s a hell yes.”

***

Mess Is Mine III*

tags: dad!harry, boyfriend!harry, husband!harry

***

YN is still in her bathrobe when he steps into the bedroom, smiling through the mirror at his reflection from the door. Her hair is done and she’s just putting the last bit of some make-up before she slips into her outfit for the night. Her black lace jumpsuit is ready on the bed, waiting for her.

Harry is still standing by the door, staring at her intensely. He folds his arms across his chest, not a word comes out of his mouth.

“You gonna stand there and gawk at me all night or are you coming in and help me get into my outfit?” YN smirks at him through the mirror.

***

On S’envoie en L’air?*

tags: husband!harry, dad!harry

In which a little mid-day quickie and cockwarming on the balcony are involved during their family holiday to Côte d’Azur. Plus Harry teaching his little boy to swim.

***

“On s’envoie en l’air?” Harry whispered, still standing between your legs as you sat on the edge of the tall bed. You let out a little chuckle. “Wha’?”

“Nothing. S’just your three year old speaks better French than you,” you teased him and he tickled your sides, earning a burst of giggles from you. “It’s true! I swear you only know three sentences; going to the cinema with your family and friends, how to make a coffee this delicious and sh-”

“Shall we ‘ave a shag?” He cut you off, finishing your sentence. A boyish grin plastered across his face as he continued. “Think we shall, hmm?”

***

Half A Heart 

tags: dad!harry, husband!harry

In which Harry’s new album is stressing him out and he lashes out at the kids and his wife.

***

Both you and Harry were stubborn and it seemed that your three years old got that gene. She sighed heavily and tugged on the hem of Harry’s shirt to get his attention. “But, dad-”

She stopped mid-sentence because Harry startled her. He huffed loudly in annoyance and turned to her. His face was stern and it might be the first time in her three years of life that the little girl was scared of her daddy. “Eleanor, what did I say?!” Harry questioned her, not even bothering to use a term of endearment which was strange for him.

***

Half A Heart II

tags: dad!harry, husband!harry

In which Harry tries to make amends with his wife and kids.

***

“Love, don’t say that.” He begged you to stop. He couldn’t hear more of that coming from you.

“No, don’t love me and I will say whatever the fuck I want to say.” It’s rare for you to curse so when you do, he knows that you’re really upset.

“You know it isn’t true.” He spoke lowly. “I didn’t mean anything I said.”

You seethed. “No, I don’t know. I hope it isn’t but I can’t shake the thought that it might be true. The way you said it, it was just very conv-”

Harry cut you off. “It isn’t true. Please don’t let that idea get into your head. I was a complete twat, I didn’t even know what I said. M’sorry.”

***

A Bit Of Singin’

tags: dad!harry

In which Harry’s little girl being extra clingy before her daddy’s show and ends up running to the stage.

***

Suddenly you wanted to sneeze so you let go of Charlotte’s hand to cover your mouth and nose. And what a big mistake that was. Charlotte immediately ran to the stage. You and George tried to catch her but that kid was fast. One of the crews who was standing near the stage managed to catch her but she screamed from the top of her lungs, “NOOO! I WANT TO GO TO M’DADDY!”

The song just ended so the arena was silence for a second, only Charlotte’s screaming was audible. Harry turned to look at her, shaking his head as he laughed. “Alright, alright, c’mere.”

The crew let go of her and she ran up to him immediately. Harry knelt down and opened his arms, pulling his baby girl into his chest before standing up and went back to the middle of the stage. “Y’just can’t wait can yeh?”

***

The Kitchen’s Closed

tags: dad!harry, husband!harry

A little Father’s Day special in which YN gives Harry a vasectomy appointment for his Father’s Day present.

***

“Do we really have to go?” Harry paced around your bedroom anxiously as he waited for you to get ready. The babysitters—yes you always hire two at the same—would arrive soon.

“Yes we do,” you tried to stifle your snigger. “It’s a really simple surgery, Harry, won’t take longer than 20 minutes.”

“Think m’balls know what’s going on and have gone into hiding,” Harry mumbled nervously. “They seem to have retracted into my body.”

“Your balls are fine, H. I’m sure they’re still there,” you snorted in laughter, shaking your head.

***

Baby Steps

tags: dad!harry, husband!harry

Harry and YN takes baby lad to the park to teach him to walk.

***

“Jeez, you’re such a mum.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Well yeah you knocked me up.”

“Aye, that I did.” He cackled.

After you fed baby lad his snacks, Harry taught him to walk by holding his hands above his head, letting your baby set the pace and direction. The sight in front of you was really heartwarming.

“Where’s mummy? Should we walk to mummy?” He looked down to your baby and your baby flashed a grin, making the two bottom teeth and the newly popped two upper teeth that were responsible for your lack of sleep two weeks prior fully visible.

***

Mates*

tags: bestfriend!harry

Can Harry help his best friend to forget her ex?

***

“Morning mate,” greeted the man before he took a sip of his coffee.

Harry mumbled in response before it was cut with a yawn. “Mor- whoa,” he raised his palm to make a stop sign, and continued after he finished yawning. “You don’t live here.”

“Uh,” awkward silence filled the kitchen. “I don’t.”

“What are you doing here?” He knew it was a stupid question, but that somehow didn’t stop him from asking.

“Er, uh,” the guy looked down at his mug for a second before he answered. “Visiting.”

“Visiting what? My roommate’s uterus?”

Blurbs (or concepts or drabbles... you name it)

Instagram Prompts

Text From Last Night

[crapitskizaru]

Sugar Daddy!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Yo jurassic queen! Whats up! I hope your having a great week. Can I request a short scenario with sugar daddy law and his new sugar baby that's thirsting for him but trying to hide it. Maybe shes a bit Tsundere about it. Im in the mood for loving on my death dr. Please and thank you.

What about waking up in laws bed in one of his coats and his bed juts smells like him and of course his hoodie, and then you walk downstairs to see law standing there making breakfast (because he is a big teddy bear) and he’s wearing a tight black shirt (you know who I am 😉)

Warning: the shitty death doctor is fcking going for it + filthy vibes but not really

Word Count: 1k

Even the heavy scent of rain and the overcast sky behind the windows couldn’t stifle the feeling of excitement she got when she woke up in a bed overtaken by his scent. 

The sheets were crumpled under her fingers - letting her recall the shameless acts mixed with heated passion of the previous night. He was just so addicting with his witty charms and sparkling intelligence, and those grey eyes that she was more than glad to lose herself in. 

Where was he now? He and the morning kisses they were supposed to share in her daydreams, his strong arms around her as they both wake up in the same bed? He must have been enjoying himself last night, she was sure of that. Anyone would be able to tell - with his possessive touches and commands given with that raspy voice of his, with the way he took her several times, as many as he could. 

She put on the first thing she found crumpled on the floor - his shirt, discarded carelessly a few hours before by his quick fingers as he allowed her to feel more of him and his defined muscles. 

She made a short visit to the bathroom to freshen up before finally gathering enough courage to show herself downstairs.

Her stomach made a little backflip when she saw him - in hawaiian-themed shorts and a black shirt, far too tight to leave her desires unbothered, he was shuffling around the kitchen. 

Apparently, watching various types of fruits being cut and smashed while accompanied by the dramatic whirring of the blades in a blender must have put him in a good mood as he smirked to himself.

“I wouldn’t ever think I’d say this, especially after last night, but you look cute like this. Doctor,” she said, raising an eyebrow while punctuating the last word, which also happened to be a nickname he so loved to hear in bed. He kept his eyes on her as she came closer. “Good morning.” 

“‘Cute’ is definitely not the impression I was going for,” he murmured quietly, leaning his face closer to hers, as if to peck her on the lips. Just when they were about to touch, a metallic sound of swirling blades caused her to jump in surprise as he suddenly turned the blender on. He observed her reaction, clearly amused. 

“You’ve got issues,” she laughed. The sight of his ab muscles twitching underneath that black shirt with his every move made her bite her lip in need. 

“I thought I made that clear already.” 

For some reason it felt weird - seeing him outside the bed, her fingers not tangled in his messy hair anymore, breathing in his scent and having a casual talk over breakfast. She could swear she was naked with him, orgasming and calling all sorts of pleads and begs out not more than just few minutes ago. 

Meanwhile, he was acting as if it never happened. He sat down at the table, grabbing a newspaper in one hand and slurping on his smoothie through a pink straw. 

She had no choice but to follow in his steps as she made herself a toast to munch on and sat beside him. 

It was the weekend, and from his movements being the opposite of hurried, as well as the cloudy weather outside that certainly wasn’t encouraging, he seemed as if he wasn’t planning on leaving the house. 

This caused her mind to come up with all sorts of positions they could do it around the apartment - how he could ravage her on the kitchen counter, grip her against the wall or let her ride him on the couch. All of that, playing in her imagination, while he kept slurping on his smoothie and not tearing his gaze away from the paper. 

She almost choked on her toast when he suddenly stretched a little and let out a wheeze, followed by a deep grunt. Was he doing it on purpose? 

Her legs involuntarily clamped together when the wetness in between them started getting uncomfortable. She hastily stood up and went to put her dish away, when in reality turning her back on him was the only way she could get her eyes off of his frame. Leaning against the counter, she could almost feel his arms crawling around her waist, his lips beside her ear, his familiar scent taking over her senses...

“Did I not leave you satisfied last night? Do you still want me?” His whisper made her heart jump in surprise as he suddenly appeared behind her. “You look like you want me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tried to keep her voice steady. Could he feel the heat coming from between her thighs? She hoped not. 

“You don’t have to pretend. I would have to be blind to miss the way you look at me. Or even then, I could take ahold of you and immediately know that you want more.” His lips kept brushing against her skin as he spoke in a low voice, his hands already gripping her waist. “We’re alone. Completely alone at my place, undisturbed. Do you think I would just let you be?” 

An uncontrolled gasp left her mouth when his tone, his words and the warmth of his body took the better of her. Her head rolled back to rest against his chest. “Please. Please, take me.” 

He smirked, tightening the embrace around her.

“Oh, I will. We’ve got a whole day and night ahead of us. You will have to come up with new nicknames, sweetheart.” 

[nightwingshero]

Meet the Muse

I was tagged by the amazing @shallow-gravy thank you, dear!!!

|| The Basics ||

Name: Wren Marie Blake Seed

Nickname(s): Dep, Wren Marie (only Adelaide can call her that), Rook. Pet names from John, which includes: Love, darling, dear, and little bird. 

Age: 28

Species: Human

|| Personal ||

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (overall, I suppose? It changes over time, but I guess this is the most accurate)

Religious Belief: Agnostic for the most part. She believes in some sort of higher being, but meh. She’s not very religious. 

Sins: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / Wrath

Virtues: Chastity / Charity / Diligence / Humility / Kindness / Patience / Justice

Primary Goals In Life: Wren’s goal is to just...start over. She wants something different in her life, to forget her past and bury it deep.

Languages Known: English, some Latin

Secrets: She definitely has secrets, and some are already known, but I don’t want to get too into them without giving anything away. But her father was not a good person. At all. He was never supportive...and it was just all bad. He got sick, and while it was touch and go for awhile, the doctor’s believed there was a decent chance for him to recover. But she had him pull the plug anyway, in her way believing he deserved it and she never looks back.

Quirks: She’s constantly listening to her playlist. She keeps her phone, even if there isn’t any service. She’s always humming or singing something, and her fingers either drum to the beat or she taps them as if she were playing a piano. 

Savvies: Wren is a natural when it comes to throwing knives, and she doesn’t really know why. It started out as a contest with Sharky and Hurk, but was quick to pick up on it. She ended up getting specialized knives after that. She’s pretty fast and flexible, excellent with stealth. She can talk her way out of a tight situation, and is very witty and cunning.

|| Physical ||

Build: Slender / Scrawny / Bony / Fit / Athletic / Herculean / Babyfat / Pudgy / Obese / Other

Height: 5′4”

Weight: 130 lbs.

Scars/Birthmarks: Wren has scars on her wrists and inner thighs from a past of self harm. She does gain newer ones as she fights in the Holy war. She gets some scrapes here and there for sure, though, and eventually get a cut on her hairline. Wren has a total of 8 tattoos. A tree on her left side that extends down to the upper midthigh with a branch ending under her breast, a group of burgundy peonies between her right hip and naval, a blue bird make of music notes (a gift from John), vines and flowers on the side of her wrists, a birdcage on her right inner forearm, a flock of black birds on her left inner forearm, and the scales of justice on her upper back and shoulder blades. (Considering giving her an Eden’s Gate tattoo, tbh)

Abilities: Killer aim with knives and a bow (thanks to Rowan and eventually Jacob), rather flexible and light on her feet, good at landing quick punches. She’s a bit of a prodigy with the piano, she’s silver-tongued and able to talk her way out of things or to navigate conversations with ease, and can be a bit cunning. She’s quick to think on her feet when trying to come up with a solution or a plan.

Restrictions: She’s terrified of heights. Always has been and always will be. She only trusts John and maybe Nick when it comes to flying (sorry Addie). She hates the bliss, it shows her things that are too painful and hit too close to home for her. Wren is also bad at letting her need to be loved and accepted to make her vulnerable to being manipulated. She seeks approval and it can and has been used against her. She has a harder time opening up about her emotions because she’s too scared of the consequences.

|| Favorites ||

Favorite Food: Pasta and seafood. She also loves steak, and is a sucker for sweets.

Favorite Drink: She loves the pacific punch flavored Monster, tea, hot chocolate, white wine, and bourbon.

Favorite Color: Burgundy, Blue, and sometimes black. She wears a lot of black with other colors. But its mainly different shades of blue and burgundy.

Favorite Music Genre: Wren likes a little bit of everything because she loves music. But she likes older rock (older music in general), pop, electropop, and alternative rock. She also likes baroque pop. Artists that are included but not limited to: Halsey, Lana Del Rey, Billie Eilish, NF, Imagine Dragons, Pearl Jam, Johnny Cash, The Beatles, Queen, and Hozier.

Favorite Book Genre: She likes horror, so she loves Stephen King. She has read almost everything by Jane Austen, and both The Iliad and The Odyssey. She’s a sucker for the classics. She does enjoy reading Nicholas Sparks (and she lowkey read the Percy Jackson books because its Greek mythology) and she loves Edgar Allen Poe.

Favorite Movie Genre: Horror! She LOVES scary movies. John watches them with her all the time, and makes fun of her for the corny ones. She loves documentaries and The Office, too. She watches a lot of Game of Thrones, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and Archer. She also likes drama and emotional movies.

Favorite Season: Autumn and Spring

Favorite Butt Type: Something she can grab a hold of. As long as she can get a good squeeze and smack, she’s good.

Favorite Scent: Floral usually, but she also loves apple, cinnamon, vanilla, sandalwood, and citrus. Also John, but I guess that’s a given.

Favorite Quote: “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” Edgar Allen Poe.

|| Fun ||

“Boss” Theme Music: Blood In The Cut by K.Flay or Nightmare by Halsey

Loud Burper or Soft Burper: Loud / Soft / Neither

Sings In The Shower: Yes / No

Likes Bad Puns: Yes / No

Tagging: @chazz-anova @joeyhxdson @xbaebsae @simonxriley @seedlingsinner @returnofthepd3 @fadedjacket @trialandseed @minilev @larasfaith

[jungwoohoos]

at the end of the day

pairing: prince! namjoon x warrior! reader

genre: royal au, angst, little bit of smut (more like steam)

word count: 4.5k

warnings: mentions of war and death, pregnancy, mild politics

prince! namjoon has always been your unlikely confidant, but on the eve of the biggest battle you’ve ever had to fight, you wonder if he’s more than that

note: this is the longest thing i’ve ever written, and i feel like i’m sending my baby to kindergarten. i tried to keep the timeline historically accurate, but some things are a little jumbled. thank you to my best friend for editing this, and hope you like it!!

“Is everything okay?”

Yunho had been silent the whole training session, lips pulled tight and eyes hard, his face only breaking to push out a breath when your sword pressed against the cushion of his chest protector. What otherwise would have been met with a riled complaint—“Oh come on, you know I only gave you the opening because you gave Baram an extra carrot this morning”—was instead a quick bow and the kick of dust from his feet as he headed toward the pavilion.

His back was to you when you walked in,  and the soft rain of grit onto sword was the only indication that he was present. You unlaced the chest protector and hung it on a hook before making your way to the stone bath, settling next to him. The sprinkling of sand and the soft clang of metal were the only sounds to fill the room before you had asked the question.

He continued sharpening, hands insistent on the blade, but you saw his lips purse. So he heard. 

Swish. Swish.

He made no move of responding, so you laid your sword down and turned to face him.

“If this is about Minji, I know,” you said softly. You had gotten more intimate with the princess over the past few months, what with your training with Yunho and your shared love of the gardens. She was strong and witty, you came to discover, swift to deliver a teasing remark and even faster to lend a hand. You had only ever seen her as such, but you were also aware of the looming presence of Jaebeom, the youngest member of the advising counsel. Though the grounds were large, gossip was a skilled traveler. You would be hard-pressed to find someone who hasn’t stumbled upon his brash proposals of marriage, whether it be directly from his arrogant mouth or from others’. A fool could see that Jaebeom desired nothing less than nominal power, the chance to run his fingers over the cold gold of the throne. But as the son of the head of the Hwabaek, nepotism led him far, and his advances were hastily pointing to an engagement.

So though the princess hadn’t divulged the information herself, you found yourself acting as if she had. Though her words were just as amiable, her smile just as bright, she would be quiet, possibly mistaken for pensive, when she let her mind wander to those thoughts. Sometimes her mouth would turn down when she was admiring the peonies, and you would make sure to inhale the sweetness of the flower and with a sigh, mention how much the scent reminded you of Chulsoo, her youngest brother, after training. She would laugh, retell a story of his nearly fatal smell, and bring you to the hibiscuses. The squeeze of your hand at the end of your walks served as a silent token of gratitude for your company.

“We don’t have to talk about it. I can’t imagine how you feel because I’m upset,” you continued. “All of this,” you frowned at the glint of metal in your hand, “it shouldn’t have to happen. It isn’t right.” You wondered if the weeks to come would only be whistles of errant swords and screams of dying men.

“I spoke to Namjoon yesterday, and Hwabaek hasn’t made an official decision yet, so there’s still a chance. What with the diplomat here, I’m not sure if it will be the decision we want,” you falter, voice trailing. “But if we must go, you know Minji is safe within the walls. Namjoon and Chulsoo won’t let anything pass them, and you know how much her handmaiden loves her. She’ll probably poke someone’s eye out with a chopstick if they so much as pull on Minji’s hair too hard.”

The corner of his mouth quirks at the thought, but his eyes remain on the sword in front of him.

You turn back to do the same, letting your attention wander elsewhere as to give Yunho some space.

“10 days walking, maybe 4 days in the valley, 10, 11 days back. We’ll be back before the melons get too ripe. Less than a month away, which you know isn’t enough time for Jaebeom, even with his brainless haste, so if you’re worri--”

“She’s pregnant.” 

The words are soft enough that you have to strain your ears. His gaze hasn’t moved from in front of him, but his hands have stopped moving, now clenched hard enough on the side of the tub that the color begins leaving his knuckles.

You free your hands and rest one on his arm. The tension in his body is obvious, and the arm underneath your palm flexes at your touch.

“She’s what?” You hope your voice isn’t wavering because your limbs are suddenly limp.

Yunho brings a hand up to his nose and hurriedly wipes at it. “She’s pregnant, maybe 12 weeks along. In a month, she’ll be showing, and I,” he pauses, a breath rattling through him, “if I don’t come back, I can’t let her go through that alone.

“What kind of father would I be, what kind of hu—.” He doesn’t let himself finish, and you know he can’t bring himself to say what he can never be.

He’s looking at you now, jaw tense and eyes hard. One tear’s beading down his cheek, threatening the well in your own eyes.

“I can’t go. For Minji and for our child, I can’t go, I won’t. But for duty,” he grits, and you watch as another tear falls, “for my kingdom, for my people, and for my child’s future, I have to.”

He leaves, the only sound from him the clash of the sword against the rack and the slam of the door, leaving you in the dark quiet of the room, wondering how you can convince the Hwabaek to let your men stay. The tears blurring your vision made it difficult to see, but you were able to feel the cool metal of the doorknob. You placed the practice sword in an empty slot on the wall and ran toward Namjoon’s office.

The guards in front of Najmoon’s office informed you that it was empty. He had been out since 8 that morning, and hasn’t returned since. Hwabaek meetings never lasted less than the whole day, meeting when only the servants were up and adjourning long after the oil lanterns had to be lit. It was barely sunset, the light washing over the central courtyard, so you had at least several hours before you would be able to see him. The center was bustling in preparation for the harvest festival that night. Servants balancing trays of multi-colored food and tying white banners with well-wishes written on them, sights that made you frown and turn your head.

Your bouncing leg was revealing your anxiety, so you will yourself to calm down. You had too much time for you to let the thrumming in your body take over, and you needed to be able to gather your thoughts.

Silla was falling. The thought of your kingdom, your home, at the end of its era made your heart and mind heavy. It was by no means a sudden revelation; the past few decades had been marked with failed battles, one too many famines that left the doctors weary from carrying bodies, and a waning sense of pride. Nearly 800 years of culture and beauty, stripped nearly bare by the Goguryeo kingdom of the north. The exchange came slowly. First, the riders pushing too close to the border, stating their search for a convict when they were met with arrow tips in their faces. A couple years later, the invasion of the perimeter. Pillaging and devastating the farming villages that produced the majority of the livestock and crops for the kingdom. Your grandfather told you stories of when your father was still young and optimistic, how he had seen the fires and smelled the rotting flesh, and came home, remaining silent throughout the two day trip. He transferred to the royal guard soon after and never spoke of what happened outside the palace walls.

There was internal turmoil too—corruption, fraud, negligence—you knew that. It was impossible to turn a blind eye while a member of Hwabaek, the most prestigious advising counsel to the king, openly rutted himself against the princess’s credentials in hopes of landing a title. These were bad men, men who thought rarely of others and only of themselves. It was their misguidance that led Silla to the state it’s in now, and you feel nothing but rage, rage that they failed to protect their people and rage that they continue to look at their riches instead of the crumbling kingdom.

But there were also just men, ones who spoke up and were unafraid to point fingers. Though only a prince, Namjoon had assumed all the roles the sick king was unable to perform. You’ve always butted heads with Namjoon, over who would get the last rice cake when you were kids and then which villages would be most fit for a tenant system as adults. He was too diplomatic, you too impulsive.  You could never mask your emotions while he was groomed to speak coolly, calmly. There were few things you could agree on, but you knew of the good in his heart which, regardless of how much you disagreed, made you trust him and his judgment.

The day had grown dark by the time you made it back to the courtyard. Glowing with the light of three hundred lanterns, the courtyard’s bathed in a soft light that makes you ache. Every type of rice cake and dessert was piled high on plates, nearly the height of the doorway. Noodles, meats, fruits, whatever the kitchens could make were on display, flanking the space in the middle that was packed with people. Villagers wearing their best clothing, their nails scrubbed clean of dirt. Children weaving in and out of legs to catch fireflies in translucent pots. The dizzying twirl of bodies and ribbons to the beat of drums, which you could feel in the tips of your fingers and toes. It was all too much. The lights, the laughing, the food. Too much for the next month of cold grass and hoarse screaming you will most likely have to endure.

Your feet carry you to the outskirts of the center, up the few steps until you’re resting against a pole. You’ve never been good with crowds, funnily enough, and the reality of tomorrow makes it even harder to stomach the joy.

I have to find Namjoon, you remind yourself. But in a few minutes. Eyes closed and arms wrapped around the beam, you allow yourself a few deep breaths. Five seconds in, two seconds out, eight times. Namjoon had taught you that the night before your first ride.

It had been nothing more than a rebellion taming, something that died down the moment the royal seal was seen. Some villagers in Gyeongju had threatened to throw a royal representative into a river if the price of the fish wasn’t lowered. The rebellion never went further than insults and one tomato being thrown, but you were summoned to lead a small pack to diffuse it.

You had started inviting yourself into Namjoon’s chambers at that point. Your ladies knew by the braid still intact on your head at the end of each night that nothing interesting was happening; his guards knew you only ever talked until the early mornings. 

The night before your first task, you had your first attack. You had mistaken it for a headache at the beginning, the symptoms typical of one—temples pounding and vision blurring. The day had been long, hours of training in the sweltering heat and a ceremonial welcoming for a visiting scholar. You blamed the busy schedule and little water you had been able to drink, until your heart began to patter too quickly. Breaths came out too short and fast, and your racing heart seemed to push on, a type of pain more than physical.

Warmth was around you within a second, firm hands framing your face. You could only see the outline of Namjoon’s lips, every other feature too indistinct to focus on. His lips were moving, but it wasn’t until several moments had passed that you realized he was speaking.

“Breathe, breathe,” he whispered, doing with his own mouth what he wanted you to do. His thumbs soothed soft circles into your cheeks, but he was intent in his grip, not letting you go until your exhales were regular.

You dreamt about his hands and his lips that night, but scrubbed the images away the moment your armor weighed heavy on your skin. There was no reason to dwell on an obligatory touch. He had said on multiple occasions after you had come from the infirmary with bandages that he didn’t want your blood dripping onto his bamboo mat. The night before was simply in the best interest of his mat. And you had no reason to look at him in such a way. You had never before, never felt the small stone of nerves in your stomach your ladies often chattered about. The next time you saw him, he didn’t mention it and neither did you, but you couldn’t help but glance at his hands holding the pen.

It became an unspoken ritual. There was no lack of bickering and arguing, but the moments in which you could feel your breath quickening, his hands were on your face, soft words encouraging you to breathe.

So when you felt warmth around your back and a hand on your arm, you continue the exercise, trying to overcome the shakiness of your breath at the exhales. Your eyes are still shut—you knew you would be dizzy if you opened them too quickly—but you feel your arms being detangled from the pole. An arm secures itself around your waist, and the familiar smell of sandalwood and lavender envelops you. You follow the smell as your feet begin to move. It’s not until a small murmur for you to step up that you open your eyes.

The dim lighting is still a little too bright for you, but you’re shuffling forward anyway, still guided by Namjoon. He sits you down on the bed before taking a seat next to you. The heat from his thigh presses into yours.

“You okay?” he says softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

It takes all your willpower to resist chasing the warmth of his hand. “Yeah, that was a bad one. Must’ve been Mrs. Yun’s fish.” You give a half-hearted chuckle.

He frowns, ignoring your teasing comment, and runs the pads of his fingers gently down your cheeks. There’s nothing but silence and his roaming touch, and you squirm in your spot, the attention flustering you.

 “Do we have to go to the valley?”

You hate how small your voice sounds, as if you’re 16 and shaking before your first ride. Daughter of the head of the royal guard, the only female general in the kingdom, head trainer, and the consequences of war still turned your skin to gooseflesh.

He drops his hand from your face at the question, and you strangely miss the feeling of his skin against yours. You sit quietly, waiting for his answer.

The hand that was touching your face rakes through his hair. He releases a breath, and in the lighting, you can see the dark circles underneath his eyes. It’s been plaguing him too.

“You know we don’t have a choice.” His voice is tired.

“That’s not true,” you said, shifting to cross your legs. “There’s always a choice. We can negotiate with Baekje, obtain some land, push our line west, get fresh land for crops.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “The diplomat wouldn’t negotiate with us until we agreed to send soldiers. Bold of him since their soldiers are the ones who need help.” He gives a little snort and rubs his forehead with thumbs. “But he knows how desperate we are for land. They offered half of the valley and connecting ports.”

Your back straightens at his words. “Half?” 

His mouth quirks at your tone. “Half. That’s 30,000 pyeongs of the most fertile land. And access to ports to and from China along the Han from January to June.”

A pause and a quiet exhale. “It’s the best option that we have.”

“What about the soldiers?”

He meets your eyes then, and you have to shut yours to keep from wavering.

“The diplomat got news this morning saying that 10,000 are dead. Only about 2,000 on the Goguryeo side.” He sees you bite your bottom lip to stop it trembling. “The casualties are so high, we have to make the sacrifice. Hwabaek decided 20,000.”

Your breath catches in your throat. 20,000 men, nearly 80% of the soldiers. A number that large hasn’t been deployed since the beginnings of the kingdom. Only the royal guard and some soldiers patrolling neighboring areas will be left to maintain order, which means. Yunho.

“Park Yunho. Let him stay.” You bite your tongue, deliberating how to continue. Namjoon might not even know Yunho, nonetheless know he’s the father of Minji’s baby. He speaks before you can give an explanation.

“Tall guy, scar down his nose, right?” He’s picking at a pill of lint on the end of his sleeve. “I already gave him a leave of absence.”

Your elbows give way, and your upper body nearly collapses into the bed. Scrambling up to your knees, you look at Namjoon in disbelief.

“You what?” 

He’s still pulling at his shirt, head tilted to the side so you can only see his profile. You swat at his hand and take his chin to face him forward.

You notice he’s smiling. It’s the smile that he gives to the cook’s child when he asks Namjoon for help with writing his name, the one that touches every part of his face. You tamp down the urge to thumb at his dimple and instead flick it, willing him to talk.

“I was able to convince the scribe to write a letter of absence for him. Said something about Minji demanding a riding teacher, even though she hasn’t ridden a horse since she fell into the dung pile 10 years ago.” The corner of his eyes crinkled at the memory. “The scribe kept getting mochi powder over the writing, so I couldn’t see exactly what he wrote, but I’m guessing it was good enough. Whether Yunho takes it is something else entirely, but we’ll let Minji deal with that.”

Sitting back on your feet, you let out the breath you’ve been holding. Yunho was dedicated and proud, putting his duty first, but he at least had official leave. He could stay.

“Wait,” you say, bringing your attention back to Namjoon. “So you know?”

He finally laughs, a sound that you haven’t heard in a long time.

“You really think I lived with Minji for 24 years and didn’t know she was pregnant? She almost gagged when she saw we were having bean stew for dinner last week. She practically hoards bean stew in the pottery in her room so she can eat it at night. Finding out it was Park Yunho wasn’t too difficult. I found her hanging around the pavilion, which she never does because she complains about the smell, and I saw him sneaking into her room a couple times. She was giggling so damn much, I’m surprised the whole wing didn’t wake up.”

The thought of Yunho tiptoeing around guards made you smile. He was all brute force and no grace, but for the princess, he made sure to tread lightly on his feet.

“Are you...okay with it?”

It was a question that held far more than its words, demanded more than answering if he accepted his sister being pregnant outside of marriage. Did he accept that his sister, the princess, was pregnant with a common soldier’s baby? Did he accept the future of interconnected social classes? As a future king, would he allow society to trend toward that?

He shrugged, looking far less concerned than any other nobleman would have in the situation.

“He seems like a good man. You’ve mentioned him in the past, now that I think about it. He’s a soldier, so he has honor, dedication, drive. And,” he pauses, eyes trained on you. “He makes Minji the happiest I’ve ever seen her, well except now, when she can’t stand the thought of bean stew.”

You sigh, your heart full at the thought of a babbling baby, running in the shade of the peonies with a wooden sword.

“He’ll take care of her. You know he will.” But as you speak, eyes locked with Namjoon’s, you can’t help but think that your words aren’t about them.

He doesn’t speak, so you’re left in quiet. It’s strangely calming, the feeling of not being compelled to talk to break up the silence. That’s always how it is with Namjoon though. He made you comfortable.

A few more beats pass before he speaks.

“Don’t go.” 

It was a murmur, lighter than a hummingbird’s kiss, but it rushed through your ears as loud as ocean waves. He didn’t have to say it, but you knew. You knew because your fingers pulled toward the bump of his knee, landing softly on fabric.

A hand covered yours, and the warmth that you’ve become so attuned to blossomed up your arm and throughout your body, making your eyes prickle.

“You know I have to,” you can’t help the shake of your voice. 

He gives a sad smile, turning your hand over so that the palm was facing up. A finger traces lightly over the love line, and the tickle makes you close your hand around his finger.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve had some experience with stubborn warriors,” he says. The thumb of his other hand traces your bottom lip. It quivers under his touch.

“I’m usually good with words,” he snorts, a sound that turns into an uneven breath when he feels the scrape of your teeth on his thumb.

“I—Can I show you instead?”

He waits, body still except for his breaths. He’s waiting for your answer, your okay, because no matter how much you argue, he wants your comfort, your happiness. All the times he’s held you, retaught you how to breathe, let you speak your mind even though you were speaking from emotion rather than logic. The realization is nearly as dizzying as his scent slowly wrapping around you, and you can feel your head spinning.

Him. You had to find him. 

You’re met with soft eyes, a world of understanding behind them, and all you can do is nod before you’re reaching for his face.

The kiss is wet and salty from your tears, but your heart is light. His lips are gentle, encouraging you to push against him, fit yourself into where you belong. You adjust yourself until you’re settled in his lap, the heat of him against you pulling a quiet moan from your lips.

He takes the break in your breath to lick down your neck, sucking at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. A sigh bubbles out, but you can’t distinguish whose. Your small sounds mix with his muffled breaths, and you can’t imagine what it’ll be like when you can hear him unhindered.

A particularly sensitive spot has you mewling and rubbing your center down against his, earning a groan that falls so sweet against your ears. You grind again, gasping when you feel him push up against you. He’s hard and insistent, and his hands on your waist keep you pressed down onto him so you can’t do anything but roll your hips in hopes of relieving the tension building up in you.

You cup his face to bring it to yours, connecting your lips once again. The pants and sighs feel better against his lips somehow, and the puff of air you feel when you push your fingers into his hair elicits a moan from you.

“Show me,” you mumble into his lips, knowing that he would keep you against him like this until the morning unless you said something.

“As you wish,” he answers, an arm wrapping around you and laying you back until you feel the cushion underneath your head. Body cushioned by the silk of the red sheets and Namjoon’s hands untying your shirt, you can’t help but feel like a queen.

The kisses along your hairline make your eyelids flutter, the delicious ache between your legs a reminder of why you’re so close to falling asleep.

You’re curled around him, legs intertwined with his. The bare feeling of him against you settling warm in your stomach. You were drawing circles by his ribs until his complaints of tickling became too loud in your ear, so you settled your hand on his chest, which is where it lay now, sitting against his heartbeat.

You tilted your head up when you felt the ghosting of his lips leave your skin. He leaned down to place a kiss on the tip of your nose. You smile into it, scooching up to do the same to him. He scrunches his nose when your lips touch him.

You look at each other, eyes roaming over each others’ faces. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were memorizing his face. That dimple in his right cheek. The full lips. The strong brow.

He opens his mouth, but closes it soon after.

“You know what I want to say, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” you answer, and you do. You could feel it through him.

“Seems wrong though, like it’s not enough,” you say.

He hums in agreement. “For once, I agree.”

Your finger pokes into his side, earning you a laugh. The rumble through his body into yours makes you hug him tighter. 

“That means you have to come back to me.”

You lift your head up from his arm to look at him. There’s a wet trail inching by the corner of his mouth, and you distract yourself with wiping it so you can’t see his eyes.

The fresh path that forms after your thumb swipes the tears make you quake, but you tell yourself to be strong. After what Namjoon has done for you, the least you can do is give him a fraction of the peace he created within you.

“Of course,” you murmur into his lips.

“You know I’ll always come back to you at the end of the day.”

[ziamhaze]

Why Zayn Malik is the walking embodiment of a Ravenclaw: a doctoral thesis

now if any of you know me you know that I would sell my soul for a quality written hp au, but one thing that’s been a constant for me when starting a fic is the question of whether or not the writer will categorize zayn as a ravenclaw or a slytherin (there’s no other option besides these two).  Well I’m here to hopefully end that century long debate and give it to you straight (not quick): zain javadd malik is UNQUESTIONABLY a ravenclaw.

brace yourselves. - also you should right click open links in new tabs for evidence/best experience-

ok, so like niall, I think a lot of people associate zayn with surface qualities and truth be told I don't blame them because unless you take the time to get to know who he is beyond the small talk in interviews and making sure liam didn't fall off the stage half the time, I can totally see why people put him in slytherin - stereo typically moody, mysterious, and loves to cause ruckus with louis.

HOWEVER, people need to look into the quietness and notice that he's not sitting there like a hufflepuff and taking what's being said as is, even though he does get talked over a lot, he's making sure that if he has something to say, it's because he's got everyone's opinions and a full picture of all arguments/facts before he's giving his witty two sense and that's even if he feels overly moved to express that ‘no, you're all wrong it's actually this’ or ‘well you've forgot about this pov’.  but make sure you know your place bc even if you directly talk to him about something he may not talk to you about it bc he's a reserved ravenclaw, not willing to openly talk like most social gryffindors or not so humble slytherins would.  It's rare that he's actually saying something to brag about himself or talk about himself because that's neither here nor there and most of the time he won't even speak up about the previously mentioned things bc as a true ravenclaw, he knows what’s right and he doesn't need to boast about it like a slytherin; he's confident enough in his own intelligence - sometimes misconstrued as ravenclaw arrogance!  but is it really? bc if you're right you're right. 

 let's also talk about his antics with louis (and the occasional harry - also see: VERY rare liam occurrences).  yes, using one's wit to their advantage is textbook slytherin, which is why zayn can share this trait, but also notice who's instigating the pranks (correct answer: louis) and how zayn would carry them out.  always calculated, always waiting to hear instructions fully instead of running full force ahead with it all bc 'you guys are fucking idiots if you think I'm going to do this and run the risk of getting caught - take the time to plan this shit out and make it worth while.  I'm not gonna half ass a prank, if they're gonna cry, they're gonna bawl.' 

how about his love for english?  a typical ravenclaw characteristic?  perhaps, but it's so important to see how he views the world through the wording and thoughts/philosophies of othersin order to influence his own being.  I’m dizzy on how much he speaks in interviews about how much he wants to go back to school and do a proper english degree, wanting to learn beyond the books he can buy on his own.  be careful though!  zayn will say what he thinks and believes no matter what!!!  so while he loves english and the words (such a shame he wasn’t allowed to speak more about urdu and his culture while in the band), and the books he reads, it's how he compartmentalizes that alongside his own beliefs and thoughts that makes his favouritism notable.  also slight note at how he values intelligence in others and seeks that out from there.  Need I use his quote on education: “one of the most important things you can have”.  I mean, that in itself should be enough for this post.

moving on to his confusing loyalty!  I've yet to see zayn categorized as a gryffindor or hufflepuff, but many overlook his soft nature and caring side - ziall anyone??  it's innate for him to be caring towards those he loves.  let's not forget that "zayn wears his heart on his sleeve" bc HE DOES!  as caring as a hufflepuff and as loyal as a gryffindor, but what sets him apart is his raging ability to cut off people or stop contact with them after a while because they've done him wrong (if they listened to him the first time or actually paid attention to what he said then they wouldn't be in this situation) and no, I'm not just referring to post 1D zayn mess.  and no, I do not agree with the statement that zayn can do no wrong - though as a ravenclaw he might disagree with you on that bc when he’s in his element he’s always right.  it's important to also note that sometimes he just needs a nudge, he hasn't forgotten about you, he's just bad at texting back - cue the on and off liam friendship post band break up.  It's clear when it comes to some old interviews that he cares about these people but let's not forget that he has a temper and can let that sometimes cloud his judgement.  now would be a good time to ask if anyone knows if he has a new manager yet after that fiasco.

can we back track a second on his need for personal space to think and caring nature because of it?  self proclaimed introvert, I think a lot of people misconstrue what they saw of him in the band as temperamental and stuck up, when in reality he was simply someone who enjoyed the banter with others until he needed to go away and rejuvenate by himself for a little bit (tbt toddler zayn who needed to play with his toys by himself for a while after being around too many people).  are there introverts in every house?  without a doubt, however they’re most commonly found in ravenclaw, specifically the core trait of needing to gather their barrings and recharge before going back to join in on the fun.  you see, unlike best mate slytherin louis, zayn mostly holds back his bitterness from the others, making sure that he doesn’t say anything that might hurt them too badly - something that I greatly attribute to him knowing when he needs to go away for a bit before getting annoyed.  those of you who know, know.  soft zayn hours are intense!  honing in on his own needs of space to establish a calm demeanor in order to give others the attention and care he thinks they AND THEIR THOUGHTS deserve (namely crinkly eyed leeyum).  you’ll know it when you see it: the chin hook hugs, back rubs, and closed mouth smiles scream ‘I appreciate you and am here in the moment’.  it’s here where he shares a lot of caring (even if he mistakes what’s going on as something he actually needs to be concerned about but better safe than sorry!), nurturing traits with hufflepuffs.  having this social awareness also allows for him to clock important info that others might think he’s overlooking by not speaking - a ravenclaw?  as if.

speaking of personal space, we got a glimpse into his house from TIU documentary, but his solo interviews have given us a chance to read (and if we’re lucky, see) how he transforms his houses into his own sanctuary.  now, each house can debate on their own about the purpose of their common room to instill an element of comfort and while no, zayn doesn’t publicly have a library or reading nook like a typical ravenclaw might have, I think a PERSONAL ART/GRAFFITI ROOM SUFFICES.  we’ll get to his art later, trust me.  there are other spaces documented too though: his pirate theme shed in the backyard, tepee, room made up of entirely collaged walls in his old LA house, and let’s not forget about how strongly he felt towards the old tour bus that he felt compelled to get a tattoo reminder (#zouis).  his need to make a sanctuary out of any space he inhabits for longer than a week confirms how important individual comfort is to him and again, how in touch with this he is (I see a good debate here on whether or not this could be a hufflepuff trait as well).  little boy from bradford who’s smashing it buying his Mum and family a house??  wants them to have that comfort too!!!  the “gift” was also probably one of his most humble moments ever documented, so let’s not forget he’s a lil humble ravenclaw

and what would a zayn ravenclaw analysis be without picasso!zayn?  ravenclaw's are not only intelligent - please note that I didn't use the word smart bc there IS a difference to them - but they're also creative, both in the conventional and unconventional sense.  Of course we know of zayn's killer high notes (ask if me if I'm over the high note in If I Got You. hint: I'm not) and drawing abilities (zayn, will you draw a picture of me?  no, I don't liek you) but it's the passion and WHAT IT IS that he's singing and drawing that matters.  yes, comics, album sticker packs, very bland 'A' for a certain band member - but note the enthusiasm and NEED to talk about ‘who Harry?  tell them WHO drew that A tattoo for you!’  ‘you, it was you zayn.’  SMUG AF SMILE and tell me what other topic zayn talks about with that much enthusiasm and outspokenness other than liam payne.  there are many instances however where someone (usually brother niall) needs to coax him out to actually display this individualistic personality and I’m not gonna hide the link in the underlines this time because it’s SO IMPORTANT to watch this video of him wanting to sing drake (note the complete opposite genre of their published music) but nervous on getting lost in himself bc ‘don’t start something if you don’t want me to finish it’ and Niall knows this.  liam knows this the most, but niall’s outward with it and literally has to softly start siNGING IN ORDER FOR ZAYN TO KNOW ‘YOU’RE NOT IN THIS ALONE AND OTHERS WILL APPRECIATE WHAT YOU CARE ABOUT TOO, LOOK LIAM WILL EVEN BEATBOX FOR YOU’. EXTREMELY CONFIDENT IN HIS ELEMENT.  don’t mistake that for 24/7 slytherin confidence. in fact, pause.  ravenclaw’s when in their element will have surging confidence and might boast to the level of slytherin’s but they’ll wait for the right moment to show you up and pay attention because when they do they can get very competitive. was him getting a tattoo first out of the band at age 16 something worth overlooking?  absolutely not!  by now I’ll personally hand deliver you an award if you can give me an accurate count of his ink, but hello???  is this artistry?  duh.  is this him saying what’s important to him in art form?  warmer.  are these passionate things he cares about but sometimes won’t find necessary to speak about out loud?  on fire!  another shameless you-must-look-at-this-post link HERE of me talking to him about his art in the midst of 5,000 screaming girls who all wanted to talk about his looks.  LOOK.  AT.  HIS.  APPRECIATION!  WHO HE IS AND OTHERS RECOGNIZING THAT BASED ON HOW HE PROJECTS HIMSELF IS SO IMPORTANT TO ZAYNIE.  Look, if zayn’s not authentic to himself or exuding individuality then even he would tell you that he’s failing himself.  we can see this also in his fashion choices (there have been a few questionable moments, but over all, ace outfits).  nowadays harry tends to get a lot more in your face fashion press, but do I need to pull out receipts on how many best dressed lists zayn has been on SOLELY because he thinks outside the box and doesn’t give a fuck?  listen to me when I say that ravenclaw’s will die without originality/individuality and the ability to take control of theirs

perfect segue to his exit of the band.  was it bc of mental health issues, I mean yeah, he’s written such, but were those spurred on bc he didn’t have his space to be an individual and do his own thing?  obviously.  and before anyone says anything about him taking control of his future being an ‘I don’t take bs and will stand up for it’ decision as a slytherin trait, let me remind you how long it took him to actually do it.  imo a slytherin would have stood up from the start if they were that unhappy about it.  again, he looked at things from all angles for a long enough time to be able to understand what was going on before doing something he’d regret. sadly if it did affect his mental health that much maybe he took a little too long in making the decision but ‘we do it all for the fans’ and while I appreciated that, I also appreciated him writing an entire song about wanting to take off clothes and the love of being pushed up against the wall soooooooooooo.  his songwriting skills: they're definitely getting there, but the amount of songs (TWENTY SEVEN) he felt he NEEDED to put on Icarus Falls because he didn't want to just let those stories NOT be told, it was IMPERATIVE that people hear those thoughts stuck in his head.  unfortunately his tongue got the best of him - as it does for most ravenclaws! - and his passion did not catch up with his patience, so now many won't even get my previous IIGY high note reference bc of the sales flop that was Z2 - something spurred on by him calling out the record label for not letting him release it.  can they be blamed though, because zayn, again, the ravenclaw poster boy, allegedly doesn't want to do promo for his music because to him it's not about the sales, instead, the music. should. speak. for. itself!  ‘if 10 people listen, cool. if 10 million people listen, also cool, but I'd rather 10 people ACTUALLY LISTEN and appreciate the art versus 10 million people listening bc I look good in an interview’ and if that doesn't say artistic ravenclaw passion, idk what does

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (107/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous Chapters conveniently available here.

[21 Feruary 233 Before Age.   Planet Lubegev.]

Lubegev was a peaceful world, mostly known for its tranquil oceans and a storied tradition of erotic poetry.    Though not a Federation planet, it had friendly relations with Luffa's interstellar alliance, and some of its leaders had hinted at applying  for membership.   Posing as tourists, Luffa and Dotz made their way through one of the larger cities.   Dotz was still recovering from her encounter with the Saiyan Jolok, so she rode on an antigrav chair which Luffa steered through the pedestrian walkways.  

"Seriously, I'm feeling much better, Luffa," Dotz said, although the weakness in her voice suggested otherwise.    "My visions aren't clearing up much, but I'm sure I could walk if--"

"Sorry," Luffa said.   The poncho she wore rustled on her shoulders as she maneuvered Dotz around a street corner.    "Even if I believed that, I don't want to risk letting you push yourself too hard.   If Doc found out, he'd never let me hear the end of it."

"I'm fine, really," Dotz insisted.  "I've just been having some intense dreams, but considering how many Saiyans I've run into lately, that isn't too surprising."

"You were in a coma," Luffa replied in a tone that reminded Dotz of her own mother.   "You only think it was a quick thing because you don't remember any of it, but you were stuck in bed for a couple of months.   Your muscles have atrophied, and you need time to recover.    I'm just glad the doctors okayed your release so you could come with me.    If your prediction comes true, and there really is going to be a Saiyan attack on this planet, well, you can maybe you can find more Saiyans for me..."

"I had to go with you," Dotz said.   She adjusted the dark purple shawl that she wore around her head and shoulders and took a deep breath.    "I saw it in the lines on your palm.  I don't understand it yet, but the dreams I've been having... There's something important about you, Luffa.    I couldn't just stay behind, even if you hadn't saved me.    You're much too important to the future."

"You're beginning to sound like my wife," Luffa said.  "Well, think whatever you want, but I'm just a plain old Saiyan who happens to change colors when I use my full power."

"From where I'm sitting, you couldn't be more wrong," Dotz said.   "That other Saiyan, Jolok, nearly killed me, and you told me that was just to test his abilities.   But you-- you came all the way to my bedside to save a total stranger."

"I've been on the receiving end of that Mindworm trick myself," Luffa said.   "I wouldn't wish that on anybody, and I thought I could help."  She shrugged.     "Anybody else would've done the same."

"I don't know about that," Dotz said, "but most people probably wouldn't have been so thoughtful as to forward my hormone replacement regimen to your doctor friend."

Luffa harrumphed.   "Just thinking ahead, that's all," she said.   "It works in fighting, and it works in cooking, and I find it helps in other situations too.   You'll want to get back on track with that as soon as you can, and this way Doc can get everything together now instead of figuring it out tomorrow.    Besides, I know what it's like to have trouble controlling your own body."

"Of course," Dotz said.    She decided to let the matter drop, as Luffa seemed to be embarrassed by her own compassion.  Another piece of the puzzle, she thought to herself.  

"So how much do you know about the future?" Luffa asked.   "I thought you could only read minds, like I do, but if you're right about this Saiyan attack, then...?"

"One of my ancestors had Kanassan blood," Dotz explained.   "The family stories said that his people could see what would happen, but they were powerless to change it.    I didn't inherit much of their ability.   If you want the truth, most of my readings are based on whatever I can pick up from the customer's mind, and any flashes of insight I might happen to get."

"So why didn't you get a 'flash of insight' warning you about Jolok?" Luffa asked.

"I did," Dotz said.   "But it wasn't a warning, it was a promise.   A Saiyan would hurt me in some way, but I would recover with a newfound clarity.   Ever since you woke me up, I feel like my psychic abilities are... Well, not increasing.   It's more like they're maturing somehow.  I'm starting to think I got more from my ancestor than I knew."

"Well, if this Saiyan attack on Lubegev ever gets rolling, you'll have me convinced," Luffa said.   "You said he'd be here today.   Now that we're here, any idea what time he'll show up?"

"To be honest, I thought he should have been here by now," Dotz said.    "Could your presence have somehow scared him off?"

Luffa laughed.   "Not likely," she said.   "Chances are, he's been here a while already, and he's just keeping his energy suppressed so ki sensitive warriors like me can't detect him until he's ready to make his move.    I'm doing the same thing, so he won't be able to sense me until I've got him where I want him."

"Why are you so determined to catch him, Luffa?" Dotz asked.   "I know Saiyans love a good fight, but you keep saying he'll be no match for you, so it can't be for sport."

"I have unfinished business with the Saiyan king, Rehval the Third," Luffa explained.   As she spoke, Dotz could tell Luffa was gripping more tightly on the handles of her chair.   "But that royal bastard went into hiding before I could settle things with him.   Until I get a solid lead on him, my best bet is to make life miserable for as many Saiyans as I can.    I'll interrogate any I find, and if they start any trouble on planets like this one, I'll make them regret it.    I've also been shutting down as many wars as I can, just to make sure they can't have any fun behind my back.    Sooner or later, they'll get sick of this standoff, and they'll have to help me find him."

"Couldn't that work against you?" Dotz asked.   "If you aren't careful, the Saiyans might unite against you instead."

Luffa chuckled.   "I guess so.   Yeah, that sounds pretty fun, now that you mention it," she said.  "Is that an official prediction?"

Before Dotz could answer, there was a loud booming sound coming from the downtown area of the city.     Luffa positioned herself between Dotz and the source of the noise.   A moment later, she grinned with anticipation.    

"And there's our boy," she said.  

"The Saiyan?" Dotz asked.    Without thinking, she pulled her shawl tighter, as if it would offer some measure of protection.  

"A little late to the party, but I don't mind," Luffa replied.  

Dotz broke out in a nervous sweat.   Her psychic abilities didn't allow her to sense ki the same way Luffa could, but she could still sense waves of panic and fear from that general direction.   "It sounds like he's setting off explosives!" she said.   "I had no idea Saiyans could be so powerful..."

"This one's stronger than usual, that's for sure," Luffa said.   "But don't worry about that.   He's still no match for me."

She parked Dotz's hoverchair near an archway where she would be reasonably safe, then handed her a small device from the pocket of her yellow pants.  

"That's a communicator," Luffa told her.   "Call me if anything goes wrong.    Or you might be able to raise my wife.   Her ship should be in communications range before too long.   But I don't think you'll need it."

She tore the poncho off her shoulders and tossed it to the ground as she walked in the direction of the explosions.     When she was gone, Dotz took out a deck of cards and attempted to perform a divination.    There were more reliable ways to refine her inborn abilities, but this one was faster and more portable, and she hoped the cards would at least tell her the outcome of the battle.    Minutes later, she had as much of an answer as she could get.    The Saiyan invader would die.    The planet would survive the day.  

Luffa's fate was unclear.    

*******

Seconds later, Luffa intercepted the Saiyan in the middle of a shopping district.   The Saiyan was firing off large bursts of ki energy, but not actually hitting anything.   Everything about his tactics indicated that he was trying to do one of two things.   Either he was attempting to frighten the populace into surrendering without a fight, or that he was trying to lure any strong opponents into the open.    Concerning the second, Luffa was happy to oblige.  

"What--?"   This was all the Saiyan managed to say before Luffa punched him in the face.   He was a short, chubby man with a long beard that nearly ran down to his navel, and despite his immense power, he never saw her coming until it was too late.    Before the force of Luffa's blow could knock him into a nearby building, she flew past him and caught him in midair.    

"Where's King Rehval?" Luffa asked as she held him upside down by the ankle of his boot.    

"Ask him yourself...in hell!" he shouted as he fired a ki blast from both hands into her face.   It didn't harm her at all.    

"Wait, are you saying he's dead?" Luffa asked.   "Or were you trying to be witty and got confused?"

He reared back and tried to punch her, but she simply tossed him away before his fist could connect.     Adding insult to injury, she peppered him with small ki blasts as he tumbled through the air.    

"Come on," Luffa said.   "You're wearing a uniform from the Saiyan Royal Military.   It's a little scuffed up, but I could smell the royalist stink on you from across the city.   You had to be on Planet Saiya when your master ran away like a scalded dog.    You must know something you'd like to share with me."

"M-my master is no coward, woman!" he replied, trying to muster as much defiance as he could.   "The Rehval Dynasty is the past.   I serve the future!   Hail Trismegistus!"

"Then you've betrayed Rehval to become someone else's lapdog, is that it?" Luffa asked.    "Typical royalist trash.   Well that's just fine.   Then you won't mind telling me everything you know about where Rehval is."

"Never!" the man cried.   "I'll never talk!"

"Good, good.    I like a man with spirit," Luffa said.   She approached him with such a blinding speed that she seemed to vanish and then reappear behind him.   Then she gripped his shoulder and began to squeeze.   As he cried out in pain, she added with a laugh: "You've got a lot of courage defying me, but 'never' can be a very long time, Saiyan."

Then, just as she felt she had the situation under control, she sensed another Saiyan, closing in on her from above.   At the same time, the one she was tormenting suddenly increased his power level dramatically, and she realized that he would now be strong enough to break free of her grasp.    In the split second before the incoming Saiyan could connect, she released the first one, and arched her back to avoid a heavy kick.   She was about to fire a ki blast to counterattack, but then she sensed a third power, and before she could react, she was hit with a ki blast to the small of her back.    

"Nicely done, Aramanth!" called the one who had tried to kick Luffa.   "Your aim more than makes up for your lousy looks!"

"Shut up, Kakabajo!" Aramanth shouted from the street below.   "At least I held up my end!   What were you even aiming at?"

"Why didn't she try to read my mind?" whined the fat, bearded one as he nursed the shoulder Luffa had squeezed.   "If I had known she was gonna play so rough, I wouldn't have held back for so long."

"The real question," Aramanth replied as she flew up to meet the other two, "is what she's doing here at all.    Lubegev isn't a Federation planet.   Luffa's never even been here before.   It should have taken days for her to find out about our invasion and to arrive here by starship.   Instead, she's on us before Kres even had a chance to get started!

"No, the real question," Luffa said as she suddenly appeared from the residual energy of Aramanth's attack, "is how you three could give me so much trouble."

"She's still alive!" Kres wailed.

"Of course she is, Kres," Aramanth growled.   "This fight's only just begun.    She hasn't even transformed yet!"

Luffa snapped her fingers and ran her hand through her short, black hair.    "That's right, I knew I forgot something.   Hang on."

"Stop her!" Kakabajo warned the others.   "If we allow her to change, then--!"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Luffa threw back her head and made a loud grunt.    Her hair had shifted from black to glowing gold, and her dark eyes had ignited into a brilliant green.

"You were saying, Kakabajo?" Aramanth grumbled.  

"Didn't know I could do it that fast, did you?" Luffa asked, her voice rising over the pulsating noise of her furious aura.   "Everyone thinks it takes me a while.  Sometimes I drag it out for effect, or just because I'm in the mood.    But sometimes it's more dramatic to make it quick."

"That... that power!" Kres gasped.  

"You're using the same kind of energy as Jolok," Luffa observed.   "So I guess that means you three are part of the same organization that he was in.   He said something about defying orders when he tried to fight me, but you three were counting on me to show up, so I suppose that means your boss authorized this.  What'd you call him?   'Triss Mejistus?'"

Without warning, she rushed towards Kakabako and punched him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.    His partners tried to attack, but Luffa was too fast for them to get a lock on her.  

"So if that's true," Luffa continued, then your boss is a fool.   You three are strong, sure.    Amazingly strong compared to normal Saiyans, but you're still no match for me.    

"On the contrary, Luffa!" another voice called out.   "Our master did not expect three of us to defeat you."

As she turned to find a fourth Saiyan standing on a rooftop, she noticed two more Saiyan powers appearing on the street.    She kept her focus on the man on the roof, since he appeared to be the strongest, though not by a wide margin.  

"Logas is my name," he said as he waved his arm with dramatic flourish.   "You've already met Kakabajo, Kres, and the, er, lovely Aramanth.   Below me are Voraj and Purzlein."

"Six of you..." Luffa said.   "Well then..."

"I'll give you a moment to consider your situation, 'Super Saiyan'," Logas said.   "And then you might reconsider our master's thrice-blessed wisdom."

Luffa paused for a moment, glancing at each of them.   At last she turned her head and spit.  Below her, Kres scrambled to move out of the way of her phlegm.    

"Not bad at all," Luffa said.  "Your leader must be pretty strong if he can keep six people like you in line.  And if he can afford to sacrifice you all just to test me, then he might be even stronger still.   Yeah... Did you bring him with you?    No offense, but I'd rather fight him first, if it's all the same to you."

"Why, you arrogant--!" Aramanth said with a scowl.

"Your time is over, Luffa!" Logas boasted.    "Trismegistus commands your death!"

Aramanth and Kres flew after Luffa and tried to flank her, while a Purzlein leaped into the air and charged a ki blast, waiting to see which way she would dodge before firing it.   Instead, Luffa stood her ground, punching the Aramanth on her left while contorting her body to avoid the attack from Kres on the right.   Then she launched herself directly at Purzlein, practically begging him to fire at her pointblank.    He did so, and his energy burst splashed across Luffa like rushing water, but it had no effect.    She flew through his attack and reared back her left arm to strike him in the jaw.    

Except that she never actually got close enough to hit her target.   To her surprise, she saw Aramanth had followed her into the air, and was now grasping her boots, halting her movement.   Just as she turned her attention to her, Kres joined in, firing a ki blast of his own at Luffa's back.   And so it went.   Each time she tried to shift her focus on any one of them, the other two took advantage.   Just as Luffa began to appreciate how formidable her opponents were, the others joined in, and she found herself facing something resembling a true challenge.  

Realizing that she couldn't whittle down their numbers by attacking a particular member of their team, Luffa shifted tactics and began using techniques to attack multiple opponents from all sides.    When they gathered too close, she used an explosive wave of ki to drive them back.   When two or more of them tried to attack her at the same time, she would maneuver herself near one of their partners, so that their coordinated attacks would risk hurting their own.  

Mostly though, she took a lot of hits.    The six Saiyans fought like a well-oiled machine, and though none of them were individually strong enough to beat her, any one of them could hurt her once the other five managed to create an opening.    Working together this way, each of them took turns landing body blows, headshots, and various ki attacks.   At all times, at least one of them maintained a barrage of small ki shots at her throughout the battle, which seemed to be intended to harass her more than to soften her up.  It was when a kick to the face caused her to taste her own blood that Luffa began to realize she was actually being pressured.    For the first time since she fought the Shockmaster, she had a real fight on her hands, and if she didn't do something quickly, she was in danger of getting killed.  

Her lips curled into a smile as she realized the danger she was in.

Joint locks weren't an option in this situation.    The same was true for ki techniques.   In the time it took to utilize such moves, she would be wide open to a counterattack.   It would be child's play to pick them off one by one, but she could tell from their attacks that these Saiyans were too well-trained in team attacks to risk splitting up.    So far, she had managed to survive by fighting defensively, but she couldn't assume that they would run out of stamina before she did.   They had clearly been preparing for this fight.   So what weren't they prepared for?

Without warning, she rocketed straight up, nearly colliding with one of her foes.    She fired a volley of ki blasts down at the rest, but this was just to make them think she was trying to fight back.   Instead, she made a sharp turn and sped away from them, heading due north.

"Where the hell is she going?" Aramanth asked.  

"Coward!" shouted Kakabajo.  

"We've won!" cried Kres.    "All we have to do now is follow her and finish her off!"

"Don't get careless!" Logas snapped.  "She's up to something.   After her, but keep your distance!   Keep a tight formation!"

Hundreds of miles away, Luffa could sense them giving chase.   There was a chance that they would refuse to take the bait, and resume pillaging the planet until she returned to face them, but that would have worked to her advantage as well.    As it was, their reaction proved that their main goal was to defeat her, and they were very confident that they could pull it off.    A weaker squad would have been more cautious.   A stronger or more reckless group would have pursued her at their maximum speed.    These six were somewhere in between.   They were confident enough to pursue her, but at the same time they were willing to give up the initiative to see what she had up her sleeve.    Now she had their measure.    

Playing into their expectations, she came to a stop and began charging a Gallick Gun in midair.    There was a strong wind blowing from the ocean to the east.   She caught the scent of one of them from upwind.      Before the Saiyans came into view, they had already spread out to surround her.     There was no chance of hitting any of them with her attack now.    The moment she aimed at one of them the other five would strike, throwing off her aim enough for the sixth to dodge.    Luffa smiled as she quickly shifted the ki into an explosive wave.   This had no chance of working either, since the six were too far out of her effective range, but that wasn't the point.    The point was to cover her trail.

"Where did she go?" one of them asked when the light from her explosive wave subsided.    They had expected her to use it as cover, to maneuver around one of them for an attack, but the attack never came.    Luffa was simply... gone.

"I can't sense her!" Logas replied.    "Can anyone else lock on to her ki?"

"Negative!" reported Voraj.  

"Me either," said Purzlein.   He began to look around anxiously.   "What if she... did something to us just now?  Messed up our senses, somehow."

"I can sense the rest of you," Logas said.   "She must be suppressing her power.   There's a forest down there.   She must be hiding."

"That's crazy!" Kres exclaimed.   "What good would that do her?    We could just blow up the whole area and she wouldn't even be able to protect herself!"    He pointed his open palm down at the trees and it began to glow red as he readied just such an attack.

"Sure we could," Aramanth said as she grabbed his hand and pulled it away from the forest.    "But then we'd never know for sure if we got her or not.   I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't want to report back to our Lord and say we think we killed the Super Saiyan.   If she turns up alive later on, we'll be banished for sure."

"M-maybe it's not a trick at all," Voraj said.   "We don't know how that glowy yellow power of hers works.    Maybe she can't sustain it for very long, and we finally wore her out.    She ran away because she knew she was almost out of stamina."

"All right, we've got to assume she's still alive down there," Logas said.   "We'll have to start clearing the foliage carefully and check for Saiyan remains as we go."

"This could backfire on us, boss," Purzlein said.    "If she's only feigning weakness, she could ambush us really easily down there."

"Two can play at that game," Logas replied.    "Some of us will suppress our ki and we'll cover each other's backs."

*******

In the city, Dotz had stayed put, until a kind local noticed her sitting alone and escorted her to the relative safety of a cafe.   Emergency vehicles had deployed throughout the area to deal with the destruction, but Dotz already knew the immediate danger had passed.   She had spent the last several minutes reading tea leaves, and between that and her cards, she had determined that the Saiyans had left the city to do battle in a forest.  

The number of Luffa's enemies had increased.   Instead of one invader, Dotz now believed there were at least three.   This troubled her.   It was one thing when her predictions turned out to be mistaken, but when they contradicted themselves, it meant that she couldn't trust her own ability.   Which forecast was true, if either?   And why couldn't she determine anything about Luffa?   It should have been easier than this to forsee whether she would survive this battle.    

But the answers would not be found, no matter how long she started into her tea.   When the waiter came over, she sighed and ordered another cup to try again.  

*******

Luffa waited in the forest for twenty minutes before making her move.    She found the first pair of Saiyans standing in a clearing.   Voraj was keeping watch while Kakabajo began blasting trees.  

"Wait, I think I found something!" Voraj cried.    He raised his power level almost immediately as Kakabajo turned to follow him.    In the distance, Luffa could sense the others approaching.  

Voraj tore through the bushes and grabbed something yellow that he had spotted among some branches.    It was Luffa's pants.

Luffa herself was not with them.

"What the hell--?" Voraj gasped as he realized too late that this was a trap.    Suddenly he sensed a powerful ki blast, and he instinctively rolled away to avoid it, the pants still flapping in his hand as he moved.   When the crimson light faded, he checked on his comrade, only to find him on the ground, with a hole through his chest the size of a small coin.    Kakabajo was dead.  

Then Voraj heard laughter.  

"How did she--?!" he asked.    He never sensed her presence.    He still couldn't.    He could sense his four partners, but not Luffa.   And then, as he looked around, he suddenly saw her running towards him, far faster than any Saiyan could while suppressing their ki energy.   As he struggled to make sense of it, he briefly imagined that this was some sort of illusion.    Then Luffa drove both of her fists into his chest, and scurried away before he could even finish falling to the forest floor.     His broken ribs, he knew, were no illusion.

"What happened?!" Logas called out as they arrived only seconds later.    They had thought that there would be plenty of time for them to gather together when one of them found something.    In their practice drills, it had seemed almost instantaneous.   But now, as he still struggled to grasp Luffa's true speed, those moments seemed like an eternity.

"Luffa," Voraj groaned as he struggled to sit up.    "She took out... ugh..."

"How?!" Aramanth asked.    "We never sensed her energy!   It was like that ki blast came out of nowhere--"

"We need to get out of here!" Kres insisted.   "We can't risk engaging her with only five--"

"And do you think Luffa will just let us leave the planet peacefully?" Logas snapped.   "Even if we could escape, we'd still have to face Trismegistus' wrath.   Oh, he'll know to send seven or eight Saiyan after Luffa next time, but that team won't include any of us!    Not after we've failed.   We have to stand and fight!  There's no other way!"

Once more the forest echoed with a woman's cruel laughter.    "I'll make this easier for you," Luffa said in a mocking tone.   "The first one who tells me about Trismegistus gets to leave the planet unharmed.    The rest of you won't have to worry about his wrath, because you'll be too busy suffering mine."

Logas remained defiant.   "You think we're afraid of you, you craven freak?" he shouted as the others looked around for any sign of Luffa's person.  "Hiding like this only proves that you lack the power to defeat us!"

"Is that so?" Luffa asked.    "Ask your buddy Voraj what he thinks of my power.   Well, unless his ribs hurt too much for him to talk."

"She... she's right, boss," Voraj said as he clutched his chest.   "It's like she can use some of her ki and hide it at the same time.   She wasn't glowing bright yellow when she tagged me.    I don't think she hit me with her full strength, but..."

"Enough," Logas hissed.   "That sort of talk will only make things worse."

"How much worse can it get!?"  Kres cried.    "We're stuck on this planet, one dead, one wounded, and she's going to kill us all!   We won't even see her coming until it's too late!"

"Pull yourself together!" the leader growled.    "We're Saiyans, aren't we?"  

"Yeah, we're all Saiyans," Luffa called out.   "You guys should be enjoying this fight.   I know I am..."

"I'll tell you!" Kres shouted.   "I'll tell you everything!   Trismegistus gave us our powers!   It's called Jindan!   It enhances our ki!   He's building an army of Saiyans, all so he can--"

Logas fired a ki blast at Kres's head before he could say anymore.   His team looked on in horror as Kres's corpse collapsed to the forest floor.   There was nothing left of his head but a skull covered with a thin film of blackened flesh.  

"Logas you... you...!" Purzlein gasped.    

"You know what happens to traitors," Logas said.  

"Well, that brings you down to four," Luffa said with a cackle.  "Three and a half, really.   Voraj doesn't look like he's in much shape to fight."

"You monster!" Aramanth shouted.   "If you're so sure you have us beaten, then why don't you come out and finish us?!"

"Good question," Luffa said.  "I guess the best answer is that I don't just want to beat you chumps.    I've been putting up with Saiyan cowardice and treachery for a while now.    You people are the first Saiyans in a while that I've managed to corner, so I guess I'm taking out my frustrations on you."

Without warning, she suddenly rushed out of the forest, and struck Logas in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.    As he sank to his knees, the others moved to help him, and Luffa stopped and stood before them, bearing a sick smile on her face.  

"You idiots tried to hurt a lot of people today," she said.  "You didn't need to hurt them, but you tried anyway.   For fun, or maybe to get a rise out of me, or maybe your boss Trismegistus told you to do it.   I don't really care why.    All I know is you were pretty high on yourselves earlier, back when you thought you were the strongest guys on the planet.   Back when you thought I'd be easy pickings."

She transformed, and the other Saiyans took a step back as her golden aura kicked up a powerful wind.   Her hair glowed bright yellow, and her eyes shone a furious green.  

"I can tell from fighting you all, none of you were ever particularly weak, even before you got this Jindan treatment, whatever it is.   That was probably the idea.   Your master wanted to send some of his best warriors to face me.   You're all used to having things your own way.    Anyone tries to stop you, you just shove them aside, because you know they can't fight back."   She pointed at her eyes.    "I can see it in your fighting styles."    

The Saiyans tried to attack her, but their coordination was completely ruined now.    Two of their number were dead, one barely able to stand, and Logas still unsteady after taking a body blow.  They were still trying to overwhelm Luffa with their superior numbers and teamwork, only it wasn't quite as superior as it had once been.   Luffa grabbed Voraj, the one with the broken ribs, and slammed him into his partners like a club.  

"Me, I was actually a weakling once, believe it or not.  I know what it's like to get pushed around, and how to fight when my back's against the wall."  Luffa tossed Voraj into the air and watched him fall to the ground.    "Guys like you aren't used to being the underdogs.    You've never had to fight with broken ribs, have you?  Not when a quick ki blast would finish things instead.    Maybe that's why I'm  where I am now.   Doesn't really matter."

Logas grew desperate, and charged at Luffa, putting all the power he could muster into a single blow.    Luffa dodged this easily, though doing so left her vulnerable to flanking attacks from Purzlein and Aramanth.   She leapfrogged one of them, which caused their attacks to very nearly hit each other.   Then Logas caught up to her and managed to drive his fist into her face.

"Now!   While she's down!" Logas screamed.   "Finish her off!"

As one, the four Saiyans fired on Luffa with all the energy they could.   Even Voraj had managed to pull himself upright so he could join the assault.   Dazed, Luffa was barely able to bring up her arms to shield herself before she was engulfed in a stream of multi-colored light.  Behind her, the foliage and rocky soil were annihilated by the blast, carving out a trail of ash for several hundred yards.  

"I... I can't keep it up..." Voraj groaned.

"Don't stop!" Logas shouted.   "She's weakening!  I can feel it!"

"It's another one of her tricks!" Aramanth protested.   "We have to surrender!"

"Don't be a fool!" Logas shouted.   "If we stop now, we're all dead!"

Suddenly, Voraj collapsed, unable to stand the strain any longer.    Logas turned to him and gasped in shock.    

"It's not enough!   We need more power!"

And then suddenly, Aramanth ceased fire.   While Logas was distracted by this, Aramanth turned and shot Purzlein instead.  

"What are you doing?" Logas cried in terror.    Now he was the only one left fighting against Luffa, and in a one-on-one contest of power, he didn't have a prayer.   Luffa forced his attack back, pushing against it, step by step, until at last the energy had nowhere else to go but back upon the man who had unleashed it.   In a matter of seconds, he was torn to shreds, and the shreds were pulverized into dust.    

Luffa was the victor.    Her bare arms and legs were covered in cuts and bruises, and her left eye had swollen shut.    Her black shirt and compression shorts were soaked with blood, and she moved gingerly, painfully across the ruined patch of forest, but she still moved.    The first thing she did was to grab her pants from Voraj.   In all the confusion, he had never thought to let go of them.    He was still breathing, though barely.    

As she checked on Purzlein's body, Aramanth aimed at Voraj, and killed him with an energy beam through the skull.  

"Why?" Luffa asked between ragged breaths.    

Aramanth held out her hands in a gesture of capitulation.    "You were winning," she said.   "And you said you'd spare the first one to tell you about Trismegistus.  I couldn't do that until I was sure the others wouldn't be able to kill me for my betrayal."

"What do you mean?" Luffa asked.  

She knelt down and bowed her head to Luffa.   "I've failed Trismegistus," Aramanth said.   "I can't go back to him, so my only chance is to pledge my allegiance to you, Super Saiyan.   I'll tell you anything you want to know, and do anything you ask."

"Get up," Luffa commanded.  

She obeyed, and as soon as she did, Luffa grabbed her by the collar of her uniform.  

"You idiot!" Luffa yelled.   "You could have won!"

"Wh-what?" Aramanth asked.  

Luffa shut her eyes tightly and shook her head.    "I've never fought such a small number of Saiyans and had that much trouble before," she said.   "If the four of you had kept it up just a little longer, I'm not sure I would have been able to keep going!    And then suddenly your offensive went slack and--"

"You mean we really could have killed you?!" Aramanth asked.    She looked over at her fallen comrades, suddenly realizing the gravity of what she had done.   The glorious opportunity that she had allowed to slip through her fingers.   The reward that Trismegistus might have given her for slaying the almighty Super Saiyan.  

Luffa shoved her to the ground and turned away from her.   "Maybe!" she said.   "I don't really know my own limits, so maybe I would have managed to keep fighting, or maybe I would have had to retreat into the forest and hide for a while.    But maybe your combined power might have killed me.   Now, we'll never know."

Neither of them moved for a moment.    A cold breeze blew through the trees.    Aramanth rose to her feet, unsure what to do next.

"As far as letting you leave this planet," Luffa said bitterly, "well, it depends on how good your information is.    I can't exactly trust someone who'd turn against her own--"

She suddenly turned and fired a ki blast at Aramanth, who had been about to attack Luffa from behind.   Whether Aramanth seriously expected to prevail, or whether she had simply been driven mad with regret, no one could say.    

Luffa looked down at the Saiyan woman's corpse, then spit on it in disgust.    

*******

When Luffa returned to her ship with Dotz, Zatte noticed her wounds immediately.    

"What happened?" she asked as she scooped up Luffa and began to carry her to the sickbay.  

"Ran into more of those jacked up Saiyans," Luffa said.   "Like the one on Quadzityz, only this crew never got around to self-destructing."

"Ordinary Saiyans did this to you?" Zatte asked.  

"Yeah, well you should see what I did to them," Luffa replied.  She tried to laugh, but it hurt too much.  

"I'll get Dr. Topsas," Zatte said as she set her down on on of the beds in sickbay.  

"Don't trouble him," Luffa said, "it's not that bad--"

Zatte raised her hands, showing Luffa the red blood that had smeared onto her blue-skinned palms from carrying her.  "This.  Is not.  A debate," she said.

"Okay, okay, but he promised to check out Dotz first, so--"

"To hell with that," Zatte growled, then she spun around on her heel to fetch the doctor.   She made it one step before she found Dotz scooting towards her in her anti-grav chair.

"Oh, hello," Zatte said.  "Uh, excuse me."  She sidestepped Dotz and continued towards the door.

"Luffa, was that your wife?" Dotz asked after Zatte had gone.

"Hell yeah," Luffa said with a proud grimace.   "She's really something, huh?"

"I'm so sorry," Dotz said, maneuvering her chair to Luffa's bedside.   "I only saw one Saiyan in my vision.  I never imagined there would be six of them!"

"You did great, Dotz," Luffa said.  "There's nothing to apologize for.  If I had known there would be six, I still would have played it the same way."

"But... but I was wrong..."

"Accuracy's a relative thing," Luffa said with a shrug.   "A Saiyan's a Saiyan, whether he's got backup or not.    You got the timing down, and the location.   That was all I needed.   Now if there had been zero Saiyans, then I'd be a little annoyed, but this worked out better than I hoped."

"But... but..."

Luffa's expression shifted to one of concern.  "Hey, you should climb into one of the beds, all right?   You still need to recover your strength.   I'll try to get Doc to look you over first, but he's pretty stubborn once he makes up his mind."

Dotz decided there was no point in arguing, and so she removed herself from her chair and lay down in the nearest bed.  As she pulled the covers over herself, she kept glancing over to Luffa, who seemed as cheerful as could be, despite her injuries.  

NEXT: The Initiation

[ctrlgeorgie-blog]

[ MUSE 23 ] ●● is that KIERNAN SHIPKA? no, that’s just GEORGIE FAULKNER, the 17 year old CISFEMALE who is a HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR. some say they’re IMPATIENT & DETACHED, but their family and friends will swear they’re AMIABLE & WITTY. when i think of them, i think of glittering fairy lights, impatient finger tapping, hospital waiting rooms and well-used sketch books. i wonder if HER family knows that HER HEART DISEASE IS STARTING TO AFFECT HER. ●● ( penny && 19 && gmt+1 && she/her )

georgie’s full name is georgiana, though you’re unlikely to get a ( co-operative ) response from her with that name, unless of course you're family. she has a congenital condition of her aorta which had been asymptomatic -- though her parents and doctors were very much aware of its existence, hence the bane of her existence, the frequent checkups she attends -- up until recently. she has always been aware that trouble sparks if she over exerts herself in exercise, though any issues were solved after a quick rest. lately though, she’s been experiencing dizziness, fatigue and even one or two fainting episodes, among other things. 

until the loss of her mother and the move away from the life she loved, georgie’s only two issues with her life were her health and her full name, and even then she never truly had qualms with either of those things. vehemently protested the move to ashcroft when it was first proposed, and indeed the entire journey to the family’s current place. probably hasn’t stopped protesting it yet, tbh. she loved living around hollywood, and sure the lack of privacy was never ideal but she enjoyed the spotlight a little despite her parents’ attempts at keeping their children’s lives relatively on lock.

school has been suffering as a result of the upheaval. though she comes across totally unbothered by everything, she is obviously not. her attendance is poor, her grades slipping below her otherwise fairly decent average but georgie’s struggling to find the motivation to work; everything seems a little bit bleak and pointless, especially considering she has no idea what she wants to do after graduating. she is grieving, but never openly. she may be the middle child but has taken it upon herself to keep herself entirely together for her siblings and her father; this is also partly why her health issues remain a secret. it’s not as if the faulkner’s need another stress on them. 

high key a massive perfectionist, georgie likes to have control over most of her life; her room is always pristine and the same can be said for the rest of the faulkner residence, she enjoys decluttering and cleaning. sketches to destress, also forces her tabby cat ( newt ) to spend time with her for the same reason. has a burgeoning interest in photography that she’s considering humouring. she is bisexual, and has a little bi flag pin that she likes to wear on the lapel of her jackets, or on her school bag.