#but yeah my mum loathes time travel stories

[carewyncromwell]

[Ficlet] Gonna Hit Rewind

Hi guys! So this is a little drabble inspired by a prompt by my friend @drinkyoursoupbitch​, where I show what my MC, Carewyn Cromwell, was up to during a certain scene in the Harry Potter series! 

Before we begin, just a couple of notes --

Post-Hogwarts, Carewyn becomes a lawyer for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement -- you can read more about her life as an adult here, if you’d like! When it comes to the Order of the Phoenix, Carey-Bear doesn’t formally join, instead providing covert assistance while staying autonomous from Dumbledore (who she doesn’t really like as a person) and looking “subservient” to Fudge’s wishes. Later on, this becomes very useful after the Death Eaters take over the Ministry in 1997: when the Battle of Hogwarts begins, Carewyn actually helps take back the Ministry by placing Umbridge under citizen’s arrest and temporarily taking charge until Kingsley Shacklebolt is officially appointed Minister. Carewyn’s outfit in the sketch enclosed below is inspired by this design. Musical accompaniment for this ficlet were “Leave Me Alone” by Michael Jackson (for Carewyn’s conversation with that...certain family member in the aforementioned sketch) and “Turn Back Time” by Derivakat (which inspired the title of this drabble!). And in regards to Carewyn’s negative attitude toward Time Turners...that is 110% my mother talking. When we read Harry Potter and the Cursed Child together, she absolutely hated that it involved time travel, as she found the whole idea ridiculously confusing and illogical. (The whole climax of Prisoner of Azkaban was even her least favorite aspect of the original Potter books. 😂)

Hope you enjoy -- and much love, Soup dear! xoxo

x~x~x~x

“Down here, down here,” panted Mr. Weasley, taking two steps at a time. “The lift doesn’t even come down this far…why they’re doing it there…”

They reached the bottom of the steps and ran along yet another corridor, which bore a great resemblance to that which led to Snape’s dungeon at Hogwarts, with rough stone walls and torches in brackets. The doors they passed here were heavy wooden ones with iron bolts and keyholes.

“Courtroom…Ten…I think…we’re nearly … yes.”

As Arthur Weasley rushed down the hall toward Courtroom Ten, he was unaware that in Courtroom Seven, the door of which was left slightly ajar, Carewyn Cromwell was speaking to her estranged uncle, the new head of the Cromwell Clan, at that very moment, nor that their conversation would ultimately determine Harry’s fate in that courtroom happening just three doors down. 

“You’re not supposed to be here, Blaise, and you know that full well.”

“I merely wished to speak with the Minister, little Winnie -- you are aware of how much our family still supports the Ministry and, by extension, your career, are you not?”

Carewyn fixed Blaise with a very cold blue eye. “And I suppose Lucius Malfoy speaking with the Minister down here mere moments ago had nothing to do with you making an unscheduled visit?”

Blaise cocked his eyebrows, his identically colored and shaped eyes narrowing under them.

“I can sense you trying to enter my mind, Winnie,” he said very softly, his eyes rippling like light blue flames despite the hardness of his face. “It won’t work. You couldn’t reach my thoughts when you were a girl, and you can’t reach them now.”

His voice became cooler, to the point of sounding condescending. 

“Whatever questions you have, you know your uncle would be more than willing to answer them, if you merely ask nicely.”

‘Answer’ -- ha! Carewyn thought to herself scornfully. Lie your face off, more like. But even so...if I’m going to get what I need, I need to keep him talking...

Carewyn went very quiet, considering Blaise carefully and her next words even more so. 

“...Are you or are you not associating with Lucius Malfoy?” she asked softly.

“You might recall that he and Father were business associates back in the day.”

“Of course I do. That’s why I’m asking. Or have you forgotten where Grandfather’s activities sentenced him -- where they sentenced you, until you were able to bribe the Minister to reduce the rest of your family’s sentences?”

“Our family, little Winnie,” Blaise corrected her, a notable, fiery edge to his voice.

You all may be related to me by blood, but you are not my family, Carewyn thought fiercely, but she once again bit her tongue. If she provoked his temper the way she was tempted to, he’d be less likely to talk to her. 

When she didn’t respond, Blaise continued. 

“Lucius Malfoy has always had a working relationship with the Cromwell Clan. It’s only natural that we speak from time to time, as two patriarchs of prominent magical families.”

“Magical families with certain reputations, you mean,” Carewyn said very coolly. 

“Cornelius Fudge thinks very highly of Lucius Malfoy.”

“And of you, thanks to your impressive acting. But that doesn’t extend to everyone else, and you know it.”

“Of course,” said Blaise with a very cool smirk. “That’s something we have in common, isn’t it, Winnie? Putting on a charming face to get what we want, and not caring who hates us for it?”

Carewyn didn’t care enough to argue this point -- she’d already had this sort of discussion with Rakepick several times back in the day, and she knew that it meant Blaise was not only trying to divert the conversation, but also was absolutely full of it. 

You’re acting like this fact makes us just as bad as each other, Blaise, but it doesn’t. Even if we have some similarities in our methods, that does not make us the same. I’ve never terrorized people to try to advance myself. I’ve never manipulated or forced anyone to join a criminal organization. I’ve never masqueraded as my nephew in order to try to manipulate my niece into selling her soul and her freedom just to save him. However much I’m not perfect, I’m head-and-shoulders above you, when it comes to the moral high ground.

But honestly, there was no point in arguing with people like Blaise. It wasn’t like she’d ever convince him that everything he thought was wrong -- that Muggles weren’t inferior, Charles Cromwell was an abusive monster, and everything he and the Cromwell Clan did to try to get Carewyn, Jacob, and Lane back under their control was reprehensible rather than justified -- and she didn’t feel enough passion to try. Especially not when there were more important things happening at that very moment...

Harry would be in the courtroom by now. She had to hurry.

Although Carewyn tried to keep her face stoic, her brain was working very fast. Her eyes drifted away, off toward the far wall of the courtroom where the Wizengamot benches were lined up.

“...Look,” she said slowly, her voice becoming a little softer, “my Legilimency has become very sensitive, in this line of work. It allows me to read people’s intentions and feelings very quickly, even when I’m not actively trying to. And Lucius Malfoy...he doesn’t see you as an equal, but as a pawn.”

Blaise’s eyebrows came down over his eyes, but he didn’t respond.

“You and the rest of the Cromwell Clan only got out of Azkaban because you were able to appeal to Fudge,” said Carewyn, “but if you’re associating with the wrong people, that could very quickly sour. Your position will become uncertain again, and you won’t be able to protect them -- especially if Fudge gets the kind of control over the Wizengamot that he wants...where charges and judgments are laid down based on favoritism more than legality. We’re already seeing it with how Fudge is now treating Dumbledore and Potter, after how much he always sucked up to them. End up outside of Fudge’s good graces, as they did, and the same might befall you. I realize that you and Malfoy...”

Are Muggle-hating bigots.

“...have similar politics,” she said at last very stiffly, “...but Lucius Malfoy’s politics are far more extreme than yours, and although the courts decided there wasn’t enough evidence to prove his methods were also...we both know that’s also true. If he falls, he will drag you down with him -- and if you take the fall for his actions, he won’t lift a finger to help you.”

Carewyn forced herself to look Blaise in the eye. 

“Grandfather’s dealings with R got you all in enough trouble. You bought yourself and the rest of...our family a second chance -- something many others did not get. Are you sure you want to endanger that?”

Blaise considered Carewyn very carefully as she spoke, his blue eyes boring into hers critically. By the end, they’d actually widened.

“...Are you actually expressing concern for us, Winnie?” he asked very lowly. 

Carewyn scoffed. “Don’t misunderstand me, Blaise -- I don’t really think you all deserved a second chance in the first place, after everything you’ve pulled.”

Her blue eyes became a bit more solemn. 

“But truthfully...I’m not that upset that you were released from Azkaban. Dementors...they’re wretched creatures. I’ve seen what they can do to people.”

Her expression darkened.  

“...I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, however terrible they are.”

Something confused and almost disgusted rippled over Blaise’s face, making his nose wrinkle.

“Ugh -- and here I’d thought you’d actually weeded out that weakness in your heart...”

Carewyn’s red lips came together tightly, but she didn’t reply. The two stared each other down for a moment, before Blaise finally exhaled.

“Very well, Winnie -- you want to know why I’m down here?”

He reached into his scarlet robes and pulled out a gold chain, on the end of which dangled a tiny gold hourglass. 

A Time Turner. 

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed upon it. 

“Lucius Malfoy has expressed quite a bit of interest in my old department, when we’ve spoken,” murmured Blaise. “One sub-section in particular -- one where records of magical predictions are kept.”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. “Prophecies?”

“They are truly a fascinating thing,” said Blaise, his voice sounding rather airy. “So much value is placed on them -- too much, one could argue...just as one puts too much value on all attempts at ‘future sight.’ Alas, the section of my old department that Malfoy was interested in was not my area of expertise -- my area was in the study of Time, specifically backwards-facing. We did occasionally dip into the study of forward-facing time magic, but more in the sphere of inevitabilities -- things that evolve naturally in nature, every season -- not human affairs. Unfortunately when I was there, there was an employee monitoring the perimeter of the section I meant to enter -- I couldn’t have explored further even if I’d wanted to.”

“So Malfoy wanted you to stop by your old desk and pick up something that might help him or someone else enter the Department of Mysteries?” Carewyn asked. “Why?”

Blaise shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

“And yet you have a suspicion as to why?”

Blaise’s eyes narrowed upon Carewyn’s face, not angrily, but almost darkly. 

“I may no longer work for the Department of Mysteries, Winnie, but I cannot discuss the more classified branches of their work too deeply. That is part of the Vow I made when I first joined the Department -- it forces me to speak in hypotheticals and vague descriptions more than specific details. But I fear no random stooge using this tool to try to enter my old department, whether Malfoy or otherwise. In fact,” he added with a smirk, “I would frankly love to see them try.”

He ignored Carewyn’s critical, confused expression and pressed on more seriously. 

“You’re not a stupid girl, Winnie. I know you know what’s really going on, under the surface. Me offering assistance to Lucius Malfoy early on is merely how I intend to earn enough favor to keep my family safe, should the worst happen.”

“And what is that?” asked Carewyn.

Blaise cocked his eyebrows again. “Ask your mother. She remembers the First Wizarding War just as well as I do -- how it all started before.”

He turned on his heel and headed for the door.

“Blaise.”

Carewyn speaking his name and sharply grabbing his arm holding the Time Turner made him stop. 

“If you wish to provide Lucius Malfoy useful information,” she said lowly, “you can tell him that that employee was not there by accident.”

Blaise looked back over his shoulder, startled. Carewyn closed her eyes tight, trying to block out the intense nausea rippling over her. 

“He’s there to make sure Malfoy’s superior can’t reach what he wants,” she murmured. “There are many more, just like him, all with the same goal. It doesn’t matter when you go there -- there will always be someone there who will keep him away from what he wants.”

Blaise stared at Carewyn, his eyes narrowing in bewilderment. 

“...Why are you telling me this?” he whispered. 

Carewyn swallowed back the lump in her throat. 

“I haven’t worked with time magic like you have...but people aren’t supposed to be in two places at once. That I do know. A lot of problems have been caused by people trying to mess with time. Mum told me that once in the 19th century, a whole bunch of people’s lives were erased out of existence, all because someone messed around with a Time Turner...”

“Ah, yes, Eloise Mintumble,” said Blaise, sounding as darkly amused as a bully might upon seeing one of their usual targets wearing a particularly obnoxious dress. “Tried to go back more than a few hours and ended up changing things so dramatically that she both erased 25 people out of existence and aged her body five centuries and died upon return trip. A rather fascinating case study.”

“You’re disgusting,” Carewyn said coldly. But she got back to the task at hand, her voice hardening. “Even if Malfoy couldn’t get what his master wants from the Department of Mysteries with that Time Turner, he could still do irreparable damage with it. If all Malfoy needs is assistance, to believe that you’re helping him and for you to earn enough esteem that the Cromwell Clan stays safe...then give him the intelligence I’ve given you. Don’t give him that Time Turner.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, his lips spreading into a rather condescending smirk. “Why? Because it’s wrong, little Winnie? Because it’s illegal and immoral, and ‘not the right thing to do?’”

“I’m not foolish enough to appeal to you with morality, Blaise -- I know you don’t have any,” spat Carewyn. “I’m asking you not to do it for your own self-preservation. For the Clan’s. ...For your family’s.”

Blaise’s smirk actually slid off his face. Carewyn held his gaze as best as she could, even with how ill she felt. 

“I may not be one of those who takes turns standing watch in your old department,” Carewyn said very softly, “but Jacob is.”

Blaise’s face went rather white, and Carewyn knew she’d struck a cord. For as cruel, selfish, and immoral of a person as Blaise was, he still saw his family -- all of it -- like his personal belongings. And he “took care” of his belongings. He wanted complete control over them and, like Charles before him, he never respected them as people, nurtured them, or gave them any freedom...but Blaise didn’t want anyone touching “his things.”

The older man’s jaw clenched as a rather dark glint flashed through his eyes.

“...I see.”

His teeth still bared, he extended the hand holding the Time Turner’s gold chain and, very slowly, lowered it into Carewyn’s hand. 

Carewyn’s eyes softened in relief.

“Thank you.”

Blaise exhaled heatedly through his nose.

“Jacob always was a fool,” he growled, his voice full of resentment. “Risking his life for people like that Muggle filth who abandoned you and your mother -- ”

“Better than selling his soul and freedom to serve the person who locked my mother and all of you up like prisoners,” Carewyn shot back rather coolly.

Blaise’s eyes flashed angrily. “You will not speak ill of your grandfather, Winnie! Everything he ever did in his life was for us, including you, your brother, and your mother, and I will not have you forgetting that!”

“Crow that lie as much as you want -- it won’t ever make it true.”

Blaise seethed as Carewyn pocketed the Time Turner in her robes. Slowly, his temper cooled enough that his lips spread back out into a rather vindictive smirk.

“For the record, Winnie...Time moves in a loop. If Lucius Malfoy were to use the Time Turner after I give it to him a half-hour from now, the effects would’ve already been felt by us by now. We would have heard about someone having broken into the Department of Mysteries before our conversation even started. The fact that we are not hearing that means that he never receives the Time Turner from me. So, in fact, it was already clear that I would give you the Time Turner before I actually did -- ”

“Oh, shut your trap,” Carewyn said tiredly. Just listening to Blaise wax on was giving her a headache. “I don’t even want to try unpacking all that time travel rubbish. All I care about is that Malfoy and his ilk can’t try to mess with time, now or ever.”

She turned on her heel and strode for the slightly ajar door. Pushing it further open, she then looked back over her shoulder at Blaise. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of. Stay out of trouble, or I will not hesitate to prosecute you.”

Blaise’s eyes were very cold even around his smirk. “If there’s anyone who should be warned to stay out of trouble, it’s you, Winnie. I’m not the only one who’s aligned themselves with people who could drag them down, if they fall.”

“Perhaps,” said Carewyn mildly. “But my friends will catch me if I fall, just as they have before. Just like I always catch them. That makes all the difference.”

She walked away, her heels clapping against the black tiled floor as she strode to the end of the hall, listening at the door of Courtroom Ten. She could hear several voices talking inside -- after a moment, she recognized two as Amelia Bones and Cornelius Fudge. 

“...certainly described the effects of a dementor attack very accurately. And I can’t imagine why she would say they were there if they weren’t -- ”

“But dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just happening to come across a wizard! The odds on that must be very, very long, even Bagman wouldn’t have bet -- ”

“Oh, I don’t think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence,” said a very misty, serene voice from inside the Courtroom.

Carewyn’s shoulders relaxed, even as her eyes rolled up toward the ceiling.

Dumbledore. He’d made it in time. 

Exhaling heavily, Carewyn quickly turned back around and walked briskly back down the hallway, back upstairs toward her office. On the way, she walked by Blaise, who was now deep in quiet conversation with Lucius Malfoy, and Carewyn and Malfoy coldly stared each other down as she passed.

x~x~x~x

Carewyn hated keeping the Time Turner in her desk. She wanted to be rid of the thing immediately, but she knew she had to be patient. 

Around 11:00, just before lunchtime, Carewyn asked to borrow a Dungbomb from Tonks and covertly dropped off it just outside the Auror Department on her way back to her tiny office. The resulting smell resulted in the entire floor clearing out, until someone could deal with the smell. Carewyn herself, however, stayed in her office and powered through, spraying some Muggle air freshener to try to mask the smell. 

I forgot how much I hate Dungbombs, Carewyn thought dully. Oh well...desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.

Keeping the files on a case she was working on open on either side of her, Carewyn read through them every-so-often as she pecked away at a letter she had to write. This letter had to be concise and to the point, if its recipient was going to know it was safe and exactly what she had to do, to help keep Harry Potter from getting unjustly expelled. 

Right on time, three hours after Harry’s hearing, Carewyn’s Legilimency picked up the feeling that someone was approaching her office. A moment later, there was a knock on her door. 

The ginger-haired lawyer exhaled heavily, her eyebrows knitting together. 

“Come in,” she said. 

Although she kept her voice level, she already felt a headache coming on. She knew who was on the other side of that door -- and sure enough, when it opened, in came tall, silver-bearded Albus Dumbledore, dressed in long midnight-blue robes. 

Carewyn’s eyes hardened as the Hogwarts Headmaster closed the door behind him.

“Hello, Carewyn,” Dumbledore said pleasantly. 

“You got my message from Tonks, then?” Carewyn asked. 

“To come straight to your office as soon as I arrived, but to not let anyone see me entering? Yes. Though I daresay the evacuation of this floor thanks to the smell of Dungbombs helped with that considerably,” said Dumbledore, and his light blue eyes twinkled. “I presume it has something to do with why some members of the Wizengamot were asking what I was doing back here so soon, and why Cornelius looked even more sour at my presence than usual.”

Carewyn’s face was twisted in a deep frown as she finally took the Time Turner out of the drawer and put it on top of her desk. 

“The time and place of Harry’s hearing was changed three hours ago, with no notice,” she said stridently. “The hearing originally scheduled for 11 o’clock instead was moved to 8 o’clock at 7:58 this morning. The letter was sent by owl to Privet Drive at 7:59, right before a second letter informing Harry that because he didn’t show up for his hearing, he was presumed guilty and therefore expelled from Hogwarts. Both letters arrived at 8:52. The Order wasn’t informed of the change until a little after 9, but was also informed by Arthur Weasley that you’d had the matter well in hand and had arrived miraculously early.”

“And so they felt no need to send me any post regarding the matter,” presumed Dumbledore with a dewy smile. “But in order for all of that to have happened, I will have to go back and ensure it does happen -- isn’t that so?”

Carewyn nodded curtly as she handed the Time Turner and a sealed envelope to Dumbledore. 

“Three turns back should be enough -- you don’t want to risk changing too much, by arriving too early, and I have a closed-door meeting with Chester Davies prior to that. Give this letter to me as soon as you arrive in the past. As soon as she...escorts you out, head straight for Courtroom Ten. You should arrive just after Harry does -- it shouldn’t raise as much suspicion if you make it to the courtroom after Harry, since he was already in Arthur’s office when he first received word of the change...”

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with some mischief. “Clever as always, Carewyn, my dear. You do the Order very proud.”

Carewyn’s eyes flashed. “I’m not doing this for you or your ‘Order,’ Dumbledore, as you know full well. Jacob was completely at R’s mercy after he was expelled from Hogwarts, and I don’t want to even think about where Potter might end up, if the same thing happened to him. And if Jacob’s guarding something in the Department of Mysteries, I don’t want to make it any easier for You-Know-Who and his goons to get the drop on him.”

Dumbledore’s calm didn’t shift, though his eyes did turn a bit more solemn. “And as always, Carewyn, your cleverness is only rivaled by your caring for others.” 

Rising to his feet, the Headmaster tucked the envelope inside his robes and then picked up the Time Turner. 

“I’ll be seeing you,” he said cheerily, “or, should I say, ‘I will have seen you?’”

And with three turns, he’d disappeared.

Carewyn gave an exhausted, groan-like sigh.

“I hate Time Turners,” she muttered to herself.

x~x~x~x

When Dumbledore appeared in Carewyn’s office out of the blue at 8 o’clock that morning, the ginger-haired lawyer reacted with a lot of irritation and suspicion. Those feelings weren’t helped when Dumbledore handed her the letter addressed to her, and yet written in a hand identical to hers.

Carewyn,

First of all, yes, I know you recognize this handwriting. This isn’t a trick -- it’s just the work of a Time Turner: specifically the one Dumbledore’s holding. On that note, ask him to hand it over and then smash it. We have more than enough problems in the here and now: no sense in adding more time travel rubbish to the pile. 

Now that that’s been taken care of, let’s get to business --

The time and place of Harry’s hearing was moved just a minute ago. It now starts at 8 o’clock in the morning in Courtroom Ten. Don’t worry, Arthur’s already been notified and is ferrying Harry as we speak, but Dumbledore needs to get down there right now. Kick him out of your office, nice and loudly -- there are people outside who could overhear, and you don’t want anyone to think you and Dumbledore are on good terms. Which, fortunately, you’re not. 

Now that Dumbledore’s out of your hair, let’s go over what you need to do -- 

Blaise has sneaked into the Ministry, specifically the bottommost floor near the Department of Mysteries, on Lucius Malfoy’s direction. No, Blaise isn’t a Death Eater -- just short-sighted and self-serving as ever. The point is that he has a Time Turner on his person, which he cannot be allowed to walk away with, under any circumstances. You’ll be able to catch him leaving the Department of Mysteries if you go downstairs in the next fifteen minutes. He’ll be meeting Lucius Malfoy around 8:30, in the middle of Harry’s hearing, so don’t let him walk away without getting that Time Turner away from him. Don’t come at the issue straight-on, though -- you can appeal to Blaise to give it to you willingly. Just keep him talking. Once you have the Time Turner, you can hold onto it until Dumbledore arrives in your office at the time that was originally scheduled for Harry’s hearing, so he can use it to go back far enough to arrive at Harry’s hearing on time. 

I know, this Time Travel stuff is absolutely bloody ridiculous. But at least this way Malfoy won’t be able to use the Time Turner Blaise stole to cause even more havoc. 

Burn this letter as soon as you’re done reading it. We don’t want anyone coming across it. 

Good luck. 

As for Dumbledore himself, he arrived at Harry’s hearing right on time, all according to plan. 

“Ah,” said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. “Dumbledore. Yes. You --er -- got our -- er -- message that the time and -- er -- place of the hearing had been changed, then?”

“I must have missed it,” said Dumbledore cheerfully. “However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.”

[confusedhalfofthetime]

What about number 15. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.” sorry, keep you busy I know 😊.

Don’t ever apologize for sending me asks! I love it and I had so much fun writing this one. Let me know if you liked it x

Plot: Y/N needs to attend a family event and, surprise surprise, the Master is gonna have to pretend to be her boyfriend. 

Prompts: “I’m too sober for this” “You don’t even drink” “Maybe I should start”.

Warning: none, cuteness overload

You were totally, absolutely panicking. No, scratch that, you were going nuts.

Your steps echoed in the silence of the TARDIS as you paced the floor of the control room, picking at your lips anxiously.

-What the hell are you doing?! - 

The Master walked in with an exasperated look.

-I'm trying to work, you know? - 

He had been all around the TARDIS trying to fix a few leaks or something like that. You didn't even know a time-travelling space ship could have leaks but they sounded dangerous.

-I'm sorry, I'm sorry- you apologized without stopping your nervous walk.

The Master looked at you asking himself why the hell did he think bringing a human into his ship would be a good idea. He eventually gave in and asked you. -What's bothering you so much? -

You kept moving like a caged animal. 

-It's...you wouldn't understand- you stated waving him off.

-Y/N, I'm a thousand years old Time Lord, I think I can handle it- he said rolling his eyes impatiently.

You bit your lips. -It's my family- 

The Master signalled you to keep going.

-My parents called. They want me home for their anniversary-

-And? -

You sighed. -And I sort of...told them I was away...for a holiday...with my boyfriend-

The Master processed the information.

-...you're right there's nothing of this I understand-

You groaned in frustration. 

-They expect me to bring him with me tonight-

The Master blinked a few times, then he started laughing.

-Shut up!- you exclaimed covering your face with your hands. 

-No, I'm flattered, really-

To be fair, you and the Master were...partners. Kinda. You didn't exactly know how to define your relationship. You kissed sometimes, mainly when one of you was excited about something and you had sex rather often. The Master could be very sweet but you couldn't really picture him as anyone's boyfriend. Mainly because he would label it as something stupid and human, which usually were synonymous in his vocabulary. But you were fine with what you had, he was special to you and you knew you were special to him, even if he would never admit it.

-I'm screwed- you said collapsing on the counter.

-Just lie to them, say he was busy doing...human...stuff-

You raised your hands in the air. -I can't! They'll know it's not true, they already have their suspicions and they'll think I made the trip up just to stay away from them or maybe that I was abducted by aliens or something-

-To be fair, you kinda were-

You glanced at him with loath. -You're so useless-

-What else do you expect me to do? -

Suddenly, an idea made your eyes light up. You looked at the Master with a mischievous smile.

-What? -

You kept staring at him in silence.

-What?? Y/N what's...oh no-

Your eyes became pleading.

-No way, uh uh-

-Pleeeaase-

The Master turned around and started walking out of the room, still muttering how he would never agree to your crazy plan.

-I agree with your crazy plans all the time! -you bit back.

-This is different-

-No, it's not, it's just for one night- you managed to get in front of him and block his path.

-One night, nothing more-

-Y/N I'm no good with...- he gestured toward you. 

-Humans? Families? -

-Both-

You rolled your eyes. -You'll just have to make up a story about your fake job and your fake life, it's nothing you haven't done before-

His teeth started nibbling at his bottom lip. You could tell he was considering it.

-It might actually be fun- you tried.

-Do I get to kill any of your relatives? -

-No! -

-Then how much fun can it be! -

You took a deep breath.

-Okay, what about this. I promise I will make it up to you- 

The Master seemed interested.

-How? -

-However you want- you took a step closer, the implications clear in your voice.

The Master looked down at your lips, then he groaned.

-Fine! -

-Yes! - you exclaimed and kissed his cheek. -You are the best! - 

You hopped away, not hearing the Master whispering: -I'm gonna regret this-

Your parents' house had always been such a cosy place and you found it hadn't changed at all. You had missed it, in a sense. 

Your family was numerous so the small living room and the kitchen were already filled with people when you arrived.

The Master kept fixing his tie nervously while you rang the bell.

-Calm down-

-Don't tell me to calm down, I'm gonna be in a house full of humans and I won't even be able to compress a few of them into ants and stomp on...-

-Mum! -

Your mother squeezed you tightly, cooing about how much she had missed you.

-Oh, you must be Y/N's boyfriend...-

-Sacha, it's so nice to meet you-

You glanced at him as he pleasantly smiled and shook your mother's hand. You had seen him do this many times but you still couldn't figure out how a murderous aline could transform in such a lovely human being.

-The pleasure is all mine. Now, come in-

You were greeted by the whole family, hugging you and patting you on the shoulder as you introduced them to your boyfriend. The Master's facade never crumbled, not even for a second, no matter how intrusive your father's questions were.

-And where do you work? -

-I'm a risk analyst here in London- he said eating his food. You were sitting beside him, feeling a little tense. You trusted him, but you hoped your exuberant family wouldn't make him lose his cool.

-It's so nice to see our little Y/N finally finding someone! She's always been such a lonely kid-

-Mum...- you said through gritted teeth. The Master smiled at you with a soft look in his eyes. You knew once you were back in the TARDIS, you would never see the end of it.

-And now look at her! She's practically got heart eyes-

-Mum! -

The Master laughed. He was having way too much fun.

-So tell us, how did you meet? -

You looked at each other. You hoped he had a good story.

-We met during a workshop. A colleague introduced us and we hit it off pretty quickly. I knew she was special right away- he said.

You looked at him with a half-smile.

-So I asked her out for a coffee and then for dinner and then a movie and...here we are-

-Aw, how sweet- chipped one of your aunts. -We were starting to think little Y/N would remain all by herself forever, but luckily she found you-

-She'd be fine all by herself- he said in your defence. -She's a tough one- 

You were starting to like this.

After lunch, everybody moved either to the garden or to the living room. For a while, you lost the Master as you helped your mum with the dishes and talked about how happy you were with your boyfriend and how incredible your trip had been. Oh, if she only knew.

Once you moved to the living room, you were met by a scene you never thought could present to you.

The Master was being tackled by your little cousins who seemed to be having the time of their life climbing on his shoulders as he pretended to be some sort of monster. 

-Oh, no, I'm being defeated! - you heard him exclaim.

He was...surprisingly good with kids. You didn't expect that and you found yourself smiling at the sight, thinking that no one can pretend that well.

-Look at you, you're practically drooling- 

Your cousin Joyce was looking at you with a knowing smile on her lips. 

-No, I'm not-

-Oh, come on, he's your boyfriend, it's only normal- she said looking at him playing with the kids. -He's good uh? -

-Yeah- you said keeping that stupid smile on your face.

-Do you think you'll have kids of your own one day? I mean, you two seem pretty serious- 

You shook your head. -Nah, he's...not really the type-

-I wouldn't say so- she said glancing at them once again. 

Now the Master was finally up on his feet and the kids were running out to play. He looked tired but strangely happy. He saw you looking at him and smiled at you. You waved at him, but before he could walk toward you, your grandma stopped him and started talking. You tried not to laugh at the scene. A dangerous Time Lord was now having a conversation with an eighty-something-year-old woman. That was gonna be good.

Unfortunately, your cousin dragged you away, eager to know every "spicy detail" about your love life.

After about an hour, you and the Master were finally able to talk in peace. 

You were near the buffet when he leaned against the table with a dramatic sigh. Aand he was back.

-You're alive- you told him eating a chip.

-Surprisingly. How long have we been here? If we don't leave soon I'm gonna regenerate-

You smiled amusedly.

-You're doing great-

-Your grandmother is incredibly long-winded-

-She's 84-

-And I'm two thousand years old, so? She's practically a child to me-

-...weird- you said. -What did you even talk about? -

-She started rambling about how cute of a child you were and suddenly we were talking about her prosthetic hip-

You laughed soundly. -Oh, I can't believe I missed that! -

He glanced at you and you stopped. -Sorry- you said.

He sighed nervously. -I'm too sober for this-

You frowned. -You don't even drink-

-Well, maybe I should start! - 

You gave him a glass of wine and he took a sip.

-Disgusting- he said squinting his eyes.

You smiled. 

-You were pretty cute back there with my cousins-

The Master straightened his back.

-They were attacking me-

-Mh, you were playing with them-

-I was defending myself, those things are vicious-

-I should have brought a camera, I didn't know I would witness something like that-

-You're such a little brat-

You shrugged. -It's a gift, what can you do? -

-I have a few ideas in mind-

As much as you liked the turn the conversation was taking, you were interrupted again. 

The rest of the day went by pretty nicely if you had to be honest. You liked seeing your family again but mainly seeing the Master having to interact with them and you had to admit, he had been pretty amazing.

Once you were back in the TARDIS, the Master let himself fall on the closest chair. 

-That went well-

-It was the most exhausting experience of my entire life and that's saying something- he said.

You went to sit on his lap.

-Yes it was, but you were great- you said kissing him.

-Thank you- you added. -That meant a lot-

The Master looked at you seriously. 

-Don't mention it. But know that next time you'll have to find someone else to play your boyfriend-

-You wouldn't let anyone else do that- you teased.

-And that, my dear, is true- he said kissing you again. 

[mikkomacko]

The True Encounter IX

Dedicated to bean™️ for keeping me company while I was sick and had writers block x

~

t's far to early for Harry's liking when he's woken up by the familiar ringtone of y/n's phone.

By the time he gets his puffy eyes open, she's twisted away from him and digging under the pillows for her phone.

"Whosit?" Harry slurs, removing his arm from around her waist to rub at his eyes.

"Hi mom." Y/n greets, phone pressed to her ear and voice sweet but sleepy. She falls back into his chest, snuggling her cheek over his heart.

Harry hears a indistinct answer, too tired to focus on the voice in attempt to hear y/n's mother answer. Hand falling back to her waist, Harry pulls her in tighter, eyes falling shut.

"I think that would work." Y/n replies, humming into Harry's skin when he softly squeezes her hip. "I just have to check with Harry."

Harry peaks an eyes open at her, watching her softly nod as her mother speaks through the phone. She's got her eyes shut, dark eyelashes resting on her pale cheekbones.

"I'll let you know by Wednesday." Y/n says around a yawn, her breath leaving Harry's chest feeling sticky. He slides his palm up her spine and over her shoulder, raking his fingers through her frizzy hair.

"Love you too." Y/n smiles, free hand cupping Harry's elbow as he continues to tame her wild locks. She hums another agreement and then she's hanging up, stuffing the phone back underneath the pillows.

"What did ya mum want?" Harry mumbles, scooping his fingers under her ear and behind her head, massaging her scalp.

"She wants us to go stay with her next weekend." Y/n offers, shyly smiling. She opens her eyes to gauge Harry's reaction, heart racing with excitement when she sees him smiling.

"Tha' sounds lovely."

~

Harry's fingers are cold against the bridge of y/n's nose, his palms cupped over her eyes to prevent her from seeing where he's taking her.

He's pressed firm against her back, chin resting on her shoulder and chuckling into her ear when she stumbles on the sidewalk or in the elevator.

Y/n's already figured out that they're in the Pack House, it's the only building big enough for an elevator.

And she knows as soon as they step off the elevator that Harry's brought her to the hospital for some reason. She can smell the bleach and hand sanitizer and hear heart monitors.

"Why are we at the hospital?" Y/n questions. If it weren't for Harry's constant giggling, she'd be a bit worried about him dragging her to a hospital of all places.

"How'd you know we were here?" Harry scoffs, accidentally kicking the back of y/n's ankle. He kisses her cheek as an apology.

"It smells like one and I can hear heart monitors." Y/n laughs. Harry grumbles something and instructs her to hold out her arms. He guides her through pushing open an door and when they step into the new room everything is silent.

"Ready?" Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. She nods, laughing at how excited Harry is and then he's removing his hands, bright lights burning her eyes for a moment.

She squints into the lights, blinking until a window comes into view. On the other side is another room, workers bustling about in scrubs. But instead of working on patients or sitting at a receptionists desk, they're all taking care of children.

Some toddlers, running around on chubby legs in puffy diapers. Others babies, crawling around in onesies with drool stained chins. The cutest part of all are the babies that are running around as wolves.

Tiny pups, flopping around the floors, chasing tails or sleeping curled up in balls of fluff. To any outsider they would appear to just be little puppies, waiting to be adopted and loved but y/n knows that these are the kids of Harry's pack.

He's brought her to the daycare center.

"They're adorable." Y/n coos, cupping her mouth when one of the pups that's bouncing around trips on it's own paws.

"Yeah?" Harry ponders, hand smoothing over her hip and giving her a dimply smile. She nods, turning to look at Harry.

He's beaming at her with such endearment she could cry. She snakes her arms around his neck, tugging him down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

"What'd ya bring me here for?"

"Are yeh complainin?" Harry teases, lips still stuck to hers.

"Never." Y/n replies instantly, turning away from him to look back through the window at all the kids. Her cheek falls against his shoulder, his hand caressing the back of her head as they gaze through the window.

"Gem told me yeh asked about wolf babies." Harry speaks up, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. Y/n's stomach twists with nerves at the tone of his voice. He doesn't sound upset or accusing but there's something different. He's using that innocent edge like he's trying to convince her of something.

Y/n clears her throat, keeping her voice casual. "I was just curious." She shrugs.

Harry hums, sounding a bit disappointed but still sponges his lips across her forehead. One of these days he won't have to ask her questions about the future, he'll be able to read it off her. When that day is, he's afraid he'll never know.

~

"Yeh should have let me drive." Harry grumbles, changing the song on the radio yet again. He's got the passenger seat pushed as far back as possible, his long sweatpants covered legs stretched out and shoes tossed carelessly in the backseat.

Y/n rolls her eyes, glancing at his pouty lips and sleepy eyes. She reaches over, patting at his curls that have just been freed from the beanie he was wearing earlier.

"You don't know where you're driving to." She reasons, letting him grab ahold of her hand and bring it to his lap.

"S'why you give me instructions." Harry cradles her hand in his left one, stroking his right pointer finger up and down her palm.

"You can't even handle sitting there!" Y/n laughs, switching into the right lane of the highway. "How are you supposed to drive?"

"I can drive!" Harry huffs angrily, kicking his feet up onto the dash. Y/n notices he's wearing her socks and that he's completely stretched them out.

The furthest Harry has traveled, that he can remember, was a two hour trip to the coast so him and Gemma could see the beach when he was 9. He told y/n that he had fun, that he loved riding in the car.

But an hour into their trip he was fidgety, switching positions every five seconds and digging through y/n's bag for gum even though she told him she didn't have any.

When he couldn't find any, she was forced to stop at a gas station and let him get some, which he happily stuffed half the pack into his mouth. After fifteen minutes of chewing, he was passed out and woke up an hour later with it stuck in his hair

"If you were driving than that would mean I'd have to have gum stuck in my hair." Y/n reasons, knowing Harry would rather be suffering than her. He doesn't say anything but y/n can still see him pouting, reaching up to try and detangle his hair yet again.

The next exit comes into view making y/n sigh in relief. "Look love," She soothes, exiting off the highway and towards the gas station. "I'll get the gum out and get you a snack and then we've only got another hour on the road."

Harry perks up at that, releasing her hand so she can climb out of the car. "Be right back." She smiles, dashing inside. She returns five minutes later with a plastic bag and a small bag of ice.

Harry unlocks his door, letting her pull it open. She places the plastic bag at his feet and digs out a piece of ice. "Will you get the little brush out of my bag?" Y/n asks, reaching for the knot of hair that's stuck the gum.

Harry reaches into the backseat for her bag and pulls out the brush he had found earlier. Y/n holds the ice to his hair, softly rubbing at it to let the frozen pieces break away.

Despite his pouting and his loathing for riding in the car, he watches her take care of him, feeling his heart swell in his chest. She's so soft about brushing out his hair, careful not to pull on it too hard. And the whole time she's constantly giving him big doe eyes and a gentle smile, kissing the corner of his lips when she has to tug on his hair.

Once all the gum is out and Harry's got his bag of Cheetos in his lap he can't help but smile at her. She reaches over to stroke his cheek but frowns when she feels how warm they are.

"Are you feeling okay H?" She asks, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. It's even warmer than his cheeks. Harry nods, frowning when she digs through her bag again.

"What's tha'?" Harry grumbles when she hands him two small pills.

"It'll take care of your fever, bub." Y/n explains, forcing them into his hands. Harry takes them, feeling anxious under her watchful eye. He wants to crawl over the center console and lay in her lap.

Y/n grabs him a blanket and pillow, letting him rest his head against the window and tucking him under her blanket that he loves. "You want Apples?" She questions, stroking his hair back lovingly. Harry feels so content he's thinking about changing his grass rolling spot to this exact seat of her car.

"Yes please." He sniffles. Y/n finds her stuffed black dog he's adopted (and named) and tucks it under the blanket with him.

Harry waits until their back on the highway, eyes and body heavy with sleep before telling her what's been on his mind all week.

"Yeh'd make an excellent mum pet."

~

Harry wakes up to y/n tickling her fingertips over his jawline, car parked and shut off in front of a small two story house. As if out of a movie it's surrounded by a white picket fence and a yard of green grass and rose bushes. The porch attached to the front sports multiple bird feeders and wind chimes.

"You feeling okay?" Y/n asks him, still softly stroking his face. Her fingers falter when Harry nods but continue their soothing motions once he's stopped.

In all honesty his stomach is twisted with nausea and he's sweating enough to make his shirt feel sticky, something he doesn't usually do unless he's just had a hard work out.

Blaming these feelings as meeting-the-parents nerves Harry ignores it, unbuckling his seat belt. By the time he's got his shoes back on and y/n's blanket folded up, her parents have emerged from the house.

Y/n grins, waving at them through the windshield and climbing out of the car. Harry's stuffing as much stuff as possible into y/n's bag when the back door opens.

Harry hurries out, throwing her bag over his shoulder and rushing around the door to help her grab her other bag.

"I can get it Harry." Y/n giggles but Harry just shrugs, grabbing his duffle bag as well.

"Don't forget Apples, love." Harry murmurs in her ear, hoping her parents didn't hear him. He doesn't want them thinking he can't take care of her because he's some sissy that sleeps with a stuffie. His dad's would be rolling in his grave if he knew Harry had even named the stupid thing.

Y/n smiles bemusedly, gathering up their pillows and the blanket, double checking to make sure she grabbed Bana and Apples.

As soon as Harry comes face to face with y/n's mother she's lighting up, face splitting into an ear reaching grin.

"You must be Harry!" She exclaims, coming at Harry with open arms. Harry smiles, doing his best to hug her back with all the bags on his shoulders. "I'm y/n's mother, Christy!"

"Lovely to meet yeh." Harry says politely, squeezing her hands that have wrapped around his. She coos at him, hand reaching up to clutch at her heart.

"Such a sweetheart." She dotes, letting go of him and reaching behind her to tug y/n's father forward. "This is my husband George."

George gives him a closed lip smile, shaking Harry's hand. "Nice to meet you son." He says gruffly.

"You as well." Harry nods. Y/n laughs, shooing her parents up the porch steps, muttering about them letting Harry at least put the bags down first.

She leads Harry up the stairs in the living room, leaving her parents down there as they go to her childhood bedroom. Y/n throws the blankets and pillows onto the neatly made bed as Harry dumps the bags onto the floor.

"They're a bit overwhelming huh?" She cringes, stepping over a bag to press herself into his chest.

"They're nice." Harry assures, wrapping her up in his arms. "Ya mum is really excited, yeah?" He chuckles as she pouts.

"She just couldn't wait to meet you."

"Can yeh blame her?" Harry teases, smirking. "I'mma proper catch aren't I?"

"When you're not crying in the car you are." Y/n says innocently, pecking his nose with a chaste kiss.

Harry smiles, knowing she's teasing but it still makes his stomach twist and his heart thump hollowly.

~

Harry's sitting a foot away from y/n at dinner when he realizes that he misses her. The ache in his chest to just pull her into his lap and lay kiss after kiss on her cheeks and chin and nose and forehead is almost unbearable.

He's listening to her mother tell a story of y/n taking care of one of her baby cousins, smiling at her as she shyly giggles, cheeks blushing pink.

He can't help himself, he leans over and kisses her cheek, squeezing her hand in his. It dulls the ache but as soon as he's pulling away, settling back into his seat it returns.

Something is definitely not right with Harry and his wolf.

~

It wasn't hard to notice that Harry was acting different. He's always enjoyed loving on her, no matter where they were. In fact he even seemed to do it more in public.

But tonight was different.

It was like he was longing for something from y/n. His puppy eyes watching her intently, a sweet smile on his lips but still sulky.

Y/n didn't want to say anything in front of her parents, not wanting Harry to feel embarrassed or picked on. So she just held his hand all night, letting him kiss her cheek whenever he felt like it and watch her with his sad eyes, deciding to talk about it with him later.

He's curled up in her bed, Apples tucked tight to his chest and watching her brush her hair when she finally brings it up.

Placing her brush on her dresser, she sits next to him, legs crossed under her bum. His eyes follow her, only moving once she's settled in and laying his head on her thigh.

"Are you alright Harry?" She says gently, combing her fingers through his hair. He stays silent, one of his arms reaching to wrap around her waist, his hand slipping under her shirt to rest on her back.

"Come on H." Y/n encourages, sadness stabbing painfully at her heart. She hates seeing him like this, seeing him uncertain and quiet. He's also so confident and brave, his head held high. "Know you can tell me anything, right? I'd never judge you, my sweet alpha."

His arm tightens around her, a pitiful whimper leaving his lips at the sound of her calling him alpha. Y/n grins, glad she got a reaction out of him with his title.

"Oh no," Harry mutters, muscles tensed and jaw clenched in frustration. Her grin falls, panic blossoming in her chest. She's never heard Harry speak with such fright before. "no, no, no, no!"

"What's the matter Harry?" She asks urgently, gently pulling on his curls to try and get him to look up. "Please tell me? Please?" He groans, scurrying onto all fours and scrambling away from y/n.

She jumps up, following him as he climbs to his feet, backing away from her with his hand clutching his lower stomach. His nose is scrunched in what y/n believes is either frustration or pain, huffing as he collapses against the wall.

"Harry?" Y/n begs, taking a tentative step towards him. His eyes snap to meet hers, frantic and longing but darker than usual. Almost as dark as they get when he's about to knot her...

"Can't love." He finally says, voice deep in a growl. Y/n notices his canines, the ones that he sunk into her abdomen not so long ago, are peaking out of his gums. What in the world?

"Can't what?" She steps closer, lightly bowing her head in hopes that it gives some sense of control over whatever this situation is.

"I have to go," Harry huffs, fingers tightening around his tee-shirt and grunting softly. "We have to go!"

"Tell me what's going on Harry." Y/n pleads, tears welling up in her eyes. Why is acting like this? Why does he look so afraid? Why won't he let her touch him?

At the sight of her watery eyes he frowns, stumbling forward to walk to her. "Don't cry, please don't cry my luna." He's watching her with his dark glossy eyes and panting, sweat glistening on his forehead.

"What's wrong?" She sniffles, reaching her hands out for him. He doesn't waste a second before he's grabbing them, bringing her hands up to grab his shoulders as he cups her face. He groans at her touch, brows furrowing.

He sighs, inhaling deeply to try and calm himself. He wipes at her cheeks, clearing away all the tears that have fallen.

His next words make y/n freeze.

"I'm starting my rut, pup."

I hope this was worth the wait x

[just-jacopo]

For @valkyriesuggests MERRY CHRISTMAS

Dale was trying not to be stressed out.

This time of year was always stressful, he had finals to think about (which meant grades going back to his parent) There would usually be a lot of snow, along with what he was going to do for the holidays. Would his parent come here, or would they expect him to go back to their home for the two weeks that classes would not be in session?

In years past, that alone had been enough stress, but now there was a new factor.

His sisters, Icarus and Dare.

The ones from his old… life, that his parent did not know were here. The two of them were very against everything his parent stood for and wanted to murder them. Somehow, they had managed to stay alive after one of their (well... technically his as well) mother was killed and the other one executed by his parent. And then they managed to travel out to his school to find him and were now living in an abandoned guard shack.

In Dale’s mind, the place wasn’t worth going to for hooking up with a significant other, but it kept the rain off and had a sink with running water, so his sister’s thought it was a great.

It had been over a month since the two of them showed up and he really didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Every time he checked on them, they were knee deep in some new plan for how they would rescue their (well… his also) uncle and murder his parent. Something Dale wasn’t fully onboard with, but he felt that as his younger sisters, he couldn’t just leave them to starve and kept bringing them food. But something kept coming up to why it couldn’t happen now. They needed more information, their plan wasn’t finished, Icarus got sick, now a large storm had dumped a ton of snow on the area. Unless they planned on stealing a snow plow, they would be stuck here.

Which… was a bit of a problem and was something he needed to figure out soon.

The shack was tiny, just one room with a sink in the middle of the back and two windows that had been boarded up. Dare and Icarus had each made a nest of blankets for themselves on the floor on the right side of the room. Icarus shivered in here, while Dare had found the corner with the biggest crack and would press her back against that at night, reveling in the cold while also trying to block it from coming in. Next to the sink was a nightstand and a single wooden kitchen chair with three legs sat in one of the corners. The last corner had a sheet stretched out over it, to give the room it’s only few feet of privacy.

As soon as Dale stepped inside, at least he could see that the shack was holding up nicely. The work they had put in to keep the rain and snow off was coming along nicely. If only the same could be said for the chill that had worked its way under the door and seeped into the cracks. Dare didn’t seem to mind but he had a feeling that was the reason why Icarus kept getting sick.

“I brought you something.” He said as a way of greeting. “You guys can’t build a fire in here, there’s no fireplace. And someone would see the smoke if you let it out the window. So...” He set down three candles and a pack of matches. “For warmth. and, it will be difficult and take a while… but you could probably also cook over this as well.”

Dale sat down on the chair and watched as they took it from him, set it on the night stand. “So, Winter break is coming up.” He announced.

“Winter Break?”

“Yeah, school is out for two weeks for the holidays, for me, Christmas and New Years. A lot of the kids head home.”

Icarus glanced over at him. “Do you?”

He had the feeling he would need to stay here this time. Both were out of control, angry at times, and loathed following any rules or guidelines he tried to lay out to ensure no one knew they were squatting here. There would have been no way he could leave the area for a while and not worry they would be shanking a guard or worse while he was gone.

“Probably not.” He answered. “Have you guys ever celebrated Christmas?” Dale asked politely.

Both of them blinked at them for a moment. “No.”

He sighed. “Do you even know what it is? Or how it’s celebrated?”

“Yeah,” Dare said, crossing her arms. “People put lights up on their house and drag tree’s in and put more lights on those and eat lots of candy and stuff. We’re not stupid you know, mom and Uncle Darryl did tell us about this stuff, we just didn’t have time to do it ourselves. You know, from moving around so much.”

“I see.”

“Oh wait,” Icarus suddenly said. “We did celebrate it. Kinda… Uncle Darryl… he stole that candy for us. The Christmas candy. Remember?”

That was news to Dale. “I thought you said he hated stealing.”

“Yeah, he did. But as time went on, we didn’t have any money and there was no way for them to work, so they had to steal food. And then he came back one day with Candy.” Icarus smiled. “Mom and mum were teasing him about it, he stole candy, someone we didn’t need, just for Christmas.”

“Oh yeah.” Dare answered.

Suddenly, just as fast, Icarus’ mood soured. “Mom and mum were laughing and teasing him, and he laughed too… Back when they were alive.”

Dale had a feeling where this was going. “Okay well…. I’m probably going to be here, and we should do something.”

Across from him, Dare folded her long fingers in front of her. “What did you have in mind?”

A smile crossed his face. “Oh, I’ll probably figure something out.” He said and then casually changed the subject. Before long, both seemed to have forgotten all about it. Over the next few days, he was careful not to bring it up again.

--

The first part was going to be the hardest.

“You won’t be coming here for the holidays?”

Dale hoped his voice sounded calm and convincing enough. “I’ve got a lot of homework and stuff to go over for the next term, I’d be able to focus better if I stayed here. I’d miss you but this is what’s best for my future.”

There was only silence on the other end.

Under his skin, his heart started to race. If his parent had been here, they would have known right away he was lying.  But he was unsure if they could tell over the phone.

Finally, they spoke, their voice tinged with mild suspicion. “Alright.” They said simply. “Study hard.”

“I will.” Dale promised and hung up the phone. Letting out a deep breath, his mind started to race, he had a lot he needed to get done and in a short span of time. He glanced around the room, thinking, before finally settling upon what would work best.

--

Early one morning, snow was softly falling through the trees. Everything seemed still and quiet. Or at least, it did, until one teenager disturbed that peace.

“Guys!” He kept banging on the door, knowing there was two heavy boards on their side to keep people from coming inside. This meant that they needed to stay inside during the day to keep people from seeing them and neither saw much sunlight, but it was what was needed to be done to keep them safe.

A few moments later, he heard the boards being moved and Dare opened the door, Icarus behind her with knives in her hands and a savage snarl on her face. “What?”

“Let me in, this stuff is heavy.” He said, both arms full of Christmas gifts. Both of them stepped aside to let him in, their eyes wide.

The first thing Dale set down was a small rug for the floor, he knew that the extremely cold wood floor was nice to Dare but misery for Icarus. It wasn’t big enough for the whole room, but enough that it fit nearly half, covering where Icarus slept and the main area where the three of them sat during the day.

Next came another wooden chair, which he set next to the first one. Sitting on the ground was just stupid. It had been a bit difficult for him to acquire that chair, but he was the son of the current world leader. People didn’t say no to him

After that came smaller items. Socks and a hoodie for Icarus, a new t-shirt for Dare. More candles, more food. By the time his arms were finally empty, he leaned against the wall and smile. “Merry Christmas.”

In response, all he got was twin blank looks as they stared at the new items and then back at him. After a few seconds, Dale became uncomfortable. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah...” Dare finally said. “We just…. Never had anything like this.”

“Ever.” Icarus added. “Wow.”

He smiled brightly. “I tried to get a tree but it would be really difficult to get one in here and there’s barely enough room as it is. So… sorry.”

Icarus only shrugged as she reached for the meat he brought before stopping. “We don’t have any gifts for you.”

“It’s fine.” He said, as he started lighting some of the new candles, while Dare automatically moved away from them. “I’ve had plenty of Christmas and holidays to celebrate. I thought you guys should have one as well.”

Both of his sister’s smiled, genuine smiles that seemed to split their faces into two. Within minutes, they were sharing the food and talking, sharing long forgotten stories. For a few hours, the rest of the world seemed to have gone away and it was just the three of them. Siblings that had been shattered and ripped apart but now back together.

Dale knew the coming days would be full of challenges, a choice would need to be made and no matter what he chose, there would be pain.

But for this moment, he decided not to focus on it.

[pierre10max1]

Eeyyy can you do questions 40-70 if that's ok? 👐🎉

Hell yeah, thanks for asking! 40. What 4 things would you take to a desert island?1. My brother 2. A good book 3. Enough food 4. Music41. Name the 3 most important people in your life?My brother, my mum and dad 42. Favorite song?Cinematic - Owl City43. Favorite movie?Narnia44. When did you last cuddle someone?Long long time agooooo45. When did you last have sex?Never46. If you woke up tomorrow with no fear, what would you do first?Jump with my dressage horse47. What was your biggest worry five years ago, do you still feel the same about it at this minute?My biggest worry was that I was going to hate the education I picked, I did but graduated anyway did another one and now ready to work my was off till I die48. If you could change one law of your country, what would it be?It's not specifically a law but I'd want that the victim would be in the middle of the story not the suspect. It seems like the suspects are the victims in our country.49. What relationships have ended? But you can’t let go?With my best friend from high school, never see her never speak to her but still want to50. Where would you take a road trip?New York city 51. How do Mondays feel for you?Hate Mondays, can't function properly then52. If you could spend ten minutes with your ‘hero’ alive or dead what would you ask them?I'd ask them if he died loving what he did53. Do your practice ‘self love’ or ‘self loathing’?I had to practice cause of my therapist54. What’s your greatest achievement to date?Taking exams in the middle of a trial 55. What scares you about your future?Everything, I have no clue what I'd want to do with my life.56. Why does pizza come in a square box?So you can peel of the pineapple and leave it there 57. What would happen if you knew you could not fail?I'd be cocky about it but also really careful. Plus I'd do everything I wouldn't do because of that fear 58. How does it feel to be photographed?Horrible, I don't like it59. If you could erase an event from your mind, which one would you choose?The court we had with my brother cause he was sexually assaulted by two of my family's best friends.60. Do you want your children (if you have any) to be ‘just like you’?I don't want children tbh61. Do you stand for what you believe in or are you pleasing others?Bit of both, I really want to please others but also do what I want and don't care what anyone says or thinks 62. If money were no concern, what would you do for the rest of your life?Buy horses, travel the world something like that63. What are you thankful for, this moment?That my family supports me no matter what64. Do you have same sex fantasies?Nope65. If you have had sex in a public place, where?Nope66. Have you ever cried during/after sex?Nope67. Who is the oldest person you’ve had sex with?I'm still a virgin68. Who is the youngest person you’ve had sex with?Still a virgin69. Would you rather be in a relationship with a totally submissive partner or a totally dominant partner?I had a relationship with a dominant partner and I just didn't trust him, so I'd say submissive 70. How tall are you?    I'm 5,5 (1,65cm)

[romionesecretsanta]

Season of Hope

Written for Alice aka @stilinski-martin - I hope this satisfies your request for missing DH moments and lots of fluff! Wishing you the happiest of holidays! :)

 April in Cornwall could be cold and raw, but it was a mild, bracing day that saw two figures picking their way slowly along the rocky coastline, narrow shadows trailing behind them. Over course of the year Ron gotten used to never knowing the date, but he guessed they had been staying with his brother and his wife for a least two weeks. And though the days were slowly, subtly lengthening, these afternoons that they walked together along the shore never seemed long enough.

Fleur had found an old cardigan for Hermione to wear to ward off the chill, though for the life of him Ron couldn’t imagine who it had originally belonged to. The baggy mustard-colored garment didn’t look like something Fleur would wear, but the yarn was surprisingly soft as his hand brushed her arm, fingertips tingling at the possibility of accidental contact with her skin.

 They walked in comfortable silence toward the end of the beach, Hermione bending down every so often to pick something up and tuck it into the pocket of her sweater. At the end of the stretch Ron waited to see if Hermione showed any indication of tiring, but instead of turning to retrace their steps back to the cottage, Hermione stood gazing out at the ocean, inhaling deeply. The late afternoon sunlight wasn’t yet strong enough to warm the sand, so Ron pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and transfigured it into a blanket. The light wind caught the corners as he spread it on the beach, flicking grains of sand onto it’s surface no matter in which direction he tried to angle it. Worried she might think that he might think her weak, he sat down first, leaving plenty of space next to him. It frustrated him, not knowing how to help her, but he knew his frustration was easily matched by her own.

Hermione settled down onto on the faded blue and white stripes, tucking her legs underneath her and leaning into him ever so slightly. She fished in the pocket of the cardigan and produced a few of the shells she had gathered, miniature swirls of milky white, muted orange and soft purple. Ron watched as she laid them out on the blanket in a neat row, smallest to largest.

“We spent one Christmas on the French Riviera when I was younger,” she said quietly, in a tone laced with sadness that Ron had come to recognize on the rare occasions she spoke of her parents. “I must have been five or six years old. My father told me how these shells were an example of the golden ratio, a circumstance in mathematics that occurs when the sum of two quantities is in the same ratio to the larger quantity as they they are to each other.”

She picked up a creamy shell, tracing it’s curves. “He showed me how the ratios could be used to make rectangles and spirals and how you could find examples of it in nature, if you learned to see it - in the pattern of flower petals and seeds, the structure of crystals, even in music and art.” Her face was bent toward the small object in her hands, but her gaze was far away. “I didn’t believe him at first. I couldn’t imagine that such a principle could hold true for every shell, much less all the other phenomena he mentioned. I think I must have collected a hundred shells and checked every one of them.”

“That sounds about right,” Ron remarked with a small grin, thinking that Professor Trelawney, at least, could testify to Hermione’s insistence on hard evidence.

Hermione huffed out a breath that might’ve been an attempt at a laugh or a indignant snort had her heart been in it. “It was a lovely holiday,” she added softly after a moment. “Though perhaps a little strange for being at the shore.”

“I couldn’t imagine being anywhere other than home at Christmas,” Ron admitted. “Would’ve been a lot for Mum and Dad to travel with us, I guess,” he added self-consciously. “Even after Bill and Charlie had moved out, they still came back for the holidays. We always spent it at the Burrow. Until Hogwarts, that is.”

“You stayed with Harry that first year,” Hermione stated simply, looking up at him with warm eyes.

“Yeah, well, Mum and Dad were going to Romania,” he replied dismissively.

“Mmm,” she agreed, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Nothing interesting about dragons.”

He silently cursed his ears as they began to burn under her steady gaze. Of course part of him had wanted to go with his parents. It wasn’t everyday you got to see a real dragon preserve! A chance to see if the wild stories that Charlie always regaled them with were true. Charlie, the cool, good-natured older brother that didn’t really take the piss that much and whom he rarely got to see. But how could he leave Harry to spend the holidays at Hogwarts alone, knowing that he’d be by himself in the dorms on Christmas morning? Waking up with no family, no mates, maybe not even any presents? It wasn’t a choice, really.

He groped around for a way to deflect her unearned admiration. “The beaches in France must be a lot different than the ones here,” he said, feeling the foolishness of the remark.

She gave him a quick, knowing smile and then looked out over the horizon. “Very much so,” she affirmed, allowing him to change the subject. “At least where we were staying. The water was beautiful, but the beaches were very built-up and crowded. Nothing like this.” Her eyes drifted up the coastline, the expanse of sand broken up by rocky outcroppings stretching up into sprawling green fields. “It’s so lovely here, so vast and wild,” she mused quietly.

“It must have been beautiful at Christmas.”

Ron stiffened, and the breeze that felt gentle only moments ago seemed to knife through his jumper. They had spent so much time together in the past month as she recovered, stealing away to the shoreline so often after meals or between meetings that Ron would’ve felt guilty if he hadn’t valued every moment he spent with her above all the galleons he had ever laid eyes on. Their walks together weren’t silent, but they mostly spoke of lighthearted memories and old shared jokes. It had seemed to Ron that they had an unspoken agreement to avoid certain topics - the sorts of things they had discussed in the tent, in agonized whispers under the shadow of the locket. Horcruxes, what might be happening at Hogwarts, the safety of their families. And certainly, the time they spent apart.

His jaw clenched as he stared out at the surf. Her statement didn’t really require an answer, but he knew that changing the subject, leaving that unasked question unaddressed, would be the coward’s way out. Hermione liked to talk through feelings, he knew - never content to let anything rest, intent on wringing explanations for indescribable emotions out of the most unwilling participants. But this was more than that, more even than satisfying that deep-seated part of her nature. Talking about this, his greatest regret, was a way to show her that he had grown beyond that person who closed himself off and walked away from her in his lowest moment.

“It… I… I don’t really know, to be honest,” he choked out in a rush. He felt her eyes on him, and wondered if he would see surprise there if he had the courage to meet them. He stared hard at the worn knee of his denims, feeling the guilt and regret that still roiled so close to the surface. “It couldn’t be, to me. All I wanted was to be back in that miserable sodding tent with you and Harry.”

The dull roar of the ocean was white noise in his ears as waves of self-loathing crashed over him. He fisted the blanket in his hand, knuckles grinding against the rough sand.

“I would’ve done anything - anything - to get back to you.” The memory of her awful sobs that night seemed to mix with the screams he had heard in the Malfoy dungeon, clouding his mind and his ability to articulate with the overwhelming sense of failure. “And now I- I…”

His voice caught in his throat. This had been a mistake. He could never wash away what he had done and he saw, with terrible clarity, that it would always mark his life, that he could never…

He felt a sudden warmth on his fingers as her hand covered his own, squeezing gently. For a moment the shock was so great that time seemed to stand still, but eventually he looked down  at her upturned face and was overwhelmed. There was understanding in her expression; an openness that she hadn’t shared with him in the past few months. He had been so adamant with himself about the scope of his intentions, not daring to consciously hope for anything beyond regaining her friendship and maybe, someday, even her trust. Yet now in her eyes he saw that trust, a bit bruised and battered perhaps, but still solid and substantial, and beyond even that an intensity that suggested the depth of feelings that he held for her. The connection he felt to her, that honesty and the possibility of something more, gave him the strength and words to continue.

He took a deep breath, turning his hand palm up under hers and lacing their fingers.

“I will never leave you again, not as long as you want me here,” he said fiercely.

He felt in that moment that even though there could be circumstances beyond his control that could render such a promise impossible, somehow she believed him; that even though it was a vow he couldn’t rationally make, she accepted and even welcomed it, and that understanding fueled a burning hope in his heart under the pale April sun. 

__________________________________________________________

This was it. Today was the day.

It felt like he had been thinking about it for ages, really. He had gone over hundreds of different plans and scenarios - let’s be honest, strategies  - for the asking bit. A number of ideas had been discarded as too public, too cheesy, or too impractically distant (there was no bloody way he was waiting until her birthday or anything like that). George had, disastrously, caught sight of the ring and had spent the better part of a month gleefully inventing increasingly ludicrous and complicated set-ups, several of which involved serious violations of the Statute of Secrecy or, suspiciously, required him to dress in embarrassing costumes.

Eventually he had settled on a nice night in, a specially prepared dinner, and (hopefully) a heartfelt proposal.

He looked around their tiny flat, which had been cheerfully decorated for the holidays. Hermione had skillfully draped bits of tinsel on the bookshelves and over the doorways, and the two of them had tightly packed every bit of their furniture into one side of the lounge (as well as magically shrinking one chair down to nearly nothing, temporarily) to allow room for a small Christmas tree decorated with fairy lights, baubles, and ornaments. The effect was warm and festive and, he hoped, passably romantic.

He poked his head into the kitchen, mentally surveying the details. Chicken dressed and in the oven. Bottle of champagne chilling in the fridge. (One slug of Ogden’s to calm his nerves, already in his stomach.)  Potatoes and green beans under a warming charm. Titchy kitchen table set with all their best (read: matching) cutlery and dishware and even a tablecloth. Everything was set; all he had to do was wait.

Right. Just wait. Wait and think.

He sank down on the faded sofa and looked around the flat again, which took all of a second. It wasn’t very grand, especially as the setting for a moment that they would surely be asked to recount in detail to various friends and family members. Granted, George’s ideas had been ridiculous - he pretty sure that the muggle queen’s palace had pretty tight security, even with the use of magic - but at least they showed some forethought. But then again, he thought uneasily, Hermione wouldn’t really want all that fuss, right? And no one knew her better than he did - or should, anyway.

Speaking of, had Hermione seemed a little tense at lunch today? His knee started bobbing up and down unconsciously. She had rushed into the canteen ten minutes late with a face like thunder, and although it had cleared as she saw him and she brushed off his concern, he sensed that something had put her back up. He knew that she had been feeling particularly frustrated with her job lately; maybe there had been some kind of incident that morning that put her in a rotten mood. It didn’t seem right to spring anything on her if she was already in a strop.

Besides, now that he thought about it, would she think that it was too soon to get married? Granted, they had been together for two and half years and lived together since Hermione had finished Hogwarts, they both had relatively stable jobs that paid their bills and allowed them to sock a little bit away each month in savings. He knew there was no one else for him and the timing felt right, but he had been with Hermione long enough to realize that some muggles - especially posh, well-educated muggles like the Grangers - did these things on a fairly different timeline. He had pretty much worked out what he was going to say, but maybe he should put in a few points about the advantages of marrying young - or at least anticipate a few of the objections she was sure to bring up.

Maybe today wasn’t the day, after all. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to wait a little longer, come up with a really good plan. Not as long as her birthday of course, but just until he could make few more arrangements, think up some convincing arguments -

The sound of footsteps just outside the door startled him out of his thoughts. There was a quick jangle of the knob and he stood reflexively as the door began to open.

“Ron, I’m - oh!” Hermione called as she swung the door in. She stopped short and seemed momentarily surprised to find him standing in the lounge, looking directly at her. “Is everything OK?”

Ron gulped, feeling the dryness of his throat. “Yeah, yeah,” he answered, not entirely sure who he was reassuring. “Er, how was the rest of your day?”

“Not very good, honestly,” she replied, setting her satchel by the door and shaking snow out of her hair. “Whitewig is trying to bury my findings about the Hampshire house elves, I’m sure of it. It’s absolutely infuriating!” Ron watched as she unwound her scarf and worked the buttons of her wool coat, a deep line creasing her brow. “I’m going to have to completely reframe my findings and request a hearing with the DMLE if there’s to be anything done about it.”

“Suppose you’re going to spend the evening working on it, yeah?” Ron asked with a sinking feeling. His mind raced as he tried to work out whether he could play off the dinner as something Molly sent over.

“Actually, no.” She finished hanging her coat neatly on the peg and turned to him with a grin. “I’m going to try to put it out of my mind for the night. I will have to go over my files at some point this weekend, but it won’t help anything to fixate on it all night.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Somebody rather clever taught me that.”

Ron was vaguely aware that he was still gaping at her, but he couldn’t seem to catch up to his own thoughts. She was so passionate, so driven - she had made his life so immeasurably better, and he marveled again that he was able to give even a little bit of that back to her.

“It smells delicious in here,” she continued, oblivious. She took a step closer to him, reaching out to wrap her fingers around the hand hanging limply at his side. “Did you make something special?”

He could feel the tide of doubt ebbing away, leaving only his certainty that this was the person he wanted to spend his life with. Everything he had ever needed was standing right in front of him in a small, somewhat shabby London flat. It was amazing that just the sound of her voice and the gentle pressure of her hand made everything else fall away, the way her belief in him shored him up and strengthened his own resolve.

And gods, she was gorgeous, lit by the warm glow of the fairy lights. Reflections off the colorful baubles winked and danced behind her, and for a single moment his attention was caught by a white shape directly over her left shoulder - a single delicate shell, strung with a golden cord through a small hole that had naturally worn in it’s surface.

“…Ron? Should we go through?”

He focused on her again, looking at him with love and happiness (and, yes, maybe a little bit of concern), and the words seemed to find their way back to his throat.

“Yes,” he said firmly, a smile slowly spreading across his face as he held her gaze and reached into his pocket.

“But first I have something to ask you.”

[alarriefantasy]

                                      Halloween Fic Rec 2017

Alien AU

Alien Harry

We've got to get away from here by @suspendrs Words: 23k

Or, Louis is an FBI agent who likes to think himself a paranormal expert, and Harry is alien that somehow ended up in his office.

A King Beside You by @alienproof Words: 26k

When the aliens invade, the last thing Louis expects is to fall in love.

Cosmic Love by @smittenwithlouis Words: 27k

Or: Louis lives in a small, desert town in the middle of nowhere Texas, yet a strange visitor manages to find Louis among the stars.

Glow  by @haydolce Words: 41k

Alien AU, with a hint of Royal AU. A summer barbecue at the Tomlinson's is interrupted by a naked visitor from a peaceful planet far, far away. Can an alien and a human survive a summer together for the sake of the human race?

The Galaxy's Edge by @the-cheshire-pussy-cat  Words: 113k

In which Louis is a bounty hunter with a messed up past. Harry is a prince who just wants to prove himself. Niall and Zayn have too many things to figure out together. And Liam just wants to take care of his family. Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job. Working title: Gays in Space

Angel/Demon AU

Two Different Versions of the Universe by Hazzalovescarrots Words: 11k

Harry is a demon, captured by hunters. but not just any hunters. Angels. Louis is his angel.

Even Angels Have Their Demons by @afangirlfantasy​

Words: 52k

Or... an Angel/Demon AU where Angel Louis hates Demon Harry, but somewhere along the way that stops being so true.

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight by @alivingfire​ Words: 110k

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

Run Like the Devil by @benzos Words: 137k

Supernatural AU. Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.

Mermaid AU

Merman Harry

The Importance of Body Language by @zimriya Word: 11k

Harry really has no idea how he’s going to get out of this one. After the little incident with the fishing wire, he’d been told that under no circumstances was he to visit the surface of the water, as he is the heir to the throne and his safety is essential to the continued existence of their underwater society. Or something. Harry loves his mum, but there’s really only so much talk of royal duty a prince can take before he does something drastic. Like purposefully disobey her strict instructions to stay under the sea for the rest of his natural life, and instead swim too close to a human ship and get himself spotted by none other than the unfairly attractive Prince Louis Tomlinson, for example.

Needless to say, Harry is fucked.

My head's under water (but I'm breathing fine) by @infinitelymint Words: 13k

Harry's a merman, Louis is a prince. Sometimes happiness can be found at the bottom of the sea.(not a 'The Little Mermaid' AU)

Chances under the purple sunrise by @pumpkinlou Words: 28k

Or the one where Harry is a merman, prince of the Atlantic Ocean, whose curiosity and healthy envy takes over him and he steals Louis' shoes every time he fishes.

Coax the Cold by @mediawhorefics  Words: 86k

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

To Embroider Your Waist With Corals by @smittenwithlouis  Words: 100k

Or: All harpy Louis has known is the sky, all merprince Harry has known is the sea, except when they're together.

Merman Louis

Sirène by @canonlarry Words: 4k

Louis is a merman who turns into a human and Harry takes him home and takes him to bed.

Purer Than The Water (Like We Were) by @infinitylourry Words: 33k

Louis is a merman and Harry is a boy. The lake is a good place to fall in love.

I Know All Your Colors by @someonethatsfunny Words: 34k

The one where Louis is a mermaid and Harry meets him as a five year old boy. What happens when you meet a merboy at the tender age of five, but no one believes you? Will you listen to your parents and other adults who all tell you that you’ve imagined him or will you hold onto the memory of him for a lifetime, never willing to let him go? What if you can’t let him go because you’re pretty sure you were destined to meet and to be a part of one another’s lives? Maybe it’s down to fate.

Pirate AU

Pirate Harry

These Hands Not Fit For Holding by @achilleus Words: 46k

Or, Harry is the captain of a pirate ship, and Louis is an accidental stowaway.

Liberté by larriebane Words: 64k

AU. 1647. “Pretending you don’t have a heart is not the best way to not get it broken. It’s just the easiest.”Or the pirate AU I always wanted to write

Resist Everything Except Temptation by @domestic-harry Words: 100k

OR The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

Swim In The Smoke by @crazyupsetter Words: 101k

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

Pirate Louis

Gentle Rogue by @juliusschmidt Words: 15k

“Well?” Tommo prompts. “What the hell are you doing aboard my ship?”

Harry grins, “I’m here to plunder your booty.”

[Or Harry bets Nick a hundred pounds he can get Louis to sleep with him. He wins the wager and a thorough fucking.]

Sail Across Me  by @canonlarry Words: 21k

Harry is a prince that is about to be forced into marriage against his will and running away to sea seems like a much better option. Louis is the captain of the infamous pirate ship The Rogue and he has a thing for helping defenseless creatures. Especially when they're as pretty as this one.

Both Pirates

Set Sail With No Compass by @zarah5 Words: 4k

Pirate AU. That's it; that's the summary.

If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky by MANGAMANIAC666 Words: 42k

"You know," He whispered. "The pirate way is to take your pretty finger with the ring. If you want to keep your lovely hand you have to give me something else of value."

Louis swallowed again, harder this time. "I don't have anything else." He mumbled worriedly. Averting his eyes.The pirate grinned. "Oh, but I think you do." ~ (Larry Stylinson version of To Catch a Pirate by Jade Parker)

Vampire AU

Vampire Harry

I Picked My Poison, And It’s You by @afangirlfantasy Words: 5k

Louis never backs down on dares. But maybe this was the one time he should have.

Feels Like Infinity by Larrymama15 Words: 21k

Louis Tomlinson is an accomplished professor and a published author, all at age 28. He has devoted his life to the study and discussion of the mythological beings known as vampires. What he hasn't prepared for is, well, meeting one.

I Will Never Rust by @myhaz Words: 38k

or Harry wants to suck more than just Louis’ blood but Louis refuses to sleep with Count Dickula.

As Cold as a Whisper by panda_bear21 Words: 48k

A fairy tale au where people in Louis' village are disappearing and Louis is married off to uphold a centuries long agreement.

Finding You Was So Hard (But Loving You Is Easy) by @lourrynavy Words: 66k

​An incredibly shameless vampire!AU filled with stupid jokes, endless dates, flappy bird, a bro man dude pal sleepover thing and there also might be some sex in strange places.

Also known as the one where everyone is a vampire, Louis is oblivious and somewhere along the way it becomes a bit too much like Twilight

Waiting On You by @lads-laddylads Words: 76k

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

Luscious blood by Deidei Words: 116k

Louis Tomlinson, a human, has been living in poor living conditions together with his mother since he was born. Ever since he can remember he has loathed the stronger, faster, more developed kind that rule this world; Vampires. But will his opinion change after he meets his soul mate that is an arrogant, royal vampire named Harry Styles…

Love Endless (The Road to Recollection) by @wubwubnparmaham Words: 171k

The year is groovy 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is perhaps the gayest teen to ever grace the gloomy, hateful town of Fortwright. Would be fine if he wasn't so viciously bullied at both home and school for such a "harmful" sexual preference.

Yeah, yeah, we've all heard this story, haven't we? Believe him, Louis didn't think he was anything special either.

Until he found the mansion. The notoriously haunted mansion hidden deep within the forests of his tiny blip of a town in Bumfuck Nowhere, Idaho. No one with a brain ever goes near it, but Louis could use a little excitement in his life...and possibly a Band-Aid or two.

After discovering the mansion was less abandoned than he'd thought, he's now left with the most riveting mystery of a lifetime; every new finding leaving him with more questions. Who is this elusive owner, and why won't they show themselves? Why is there a set of journals in the same handwriting that span over centuries? Why in the world is there a padlock on the refrigerator...and who the hell is Alexander?

Vampire Louis

The Lion Man by @canonlarry Words; 12k

Louis is a vampire who loves tattoos and piercings as much as he loves a good feed. Harry is a biology student who gets dragged to a vampire bar (really, of all places) by his friends and happens to have blood that tastes like maraschino cherries. They're both a bit addicted and they're neither a bit ashamed.

A Real Boy by Centa0592  Words: 29k

The not so Twilight fic where Harry falls hopelessly in love with vampire Louis Tomlinson.

The Devil You Know by @a-writerwrites​ Words: 35k

Louis is a vampire. Harry is probably too curious for his own good

Witches AU

Witch/Magical Harry

Far Afield by @becomeawendybird Words: 11k

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

Taken by the wind by @scrunchyharry Words: 12k

Or the one where Harry is a clumsy witch and Louis is making everything worse just by existing.

A Long Way Down(To The Bottom Of The River) by @mediawhorefics  Words: 24k

a practical magic au in which Harry and his sister accidentally kill her abusive boyfriend with magic and Louis is the D.I working the case.

Love is divine by @alienproof Words: 25k

Being a witch doesn't help when it comes to unrequited love.

Feel the Chemicals Burn in My Bloodstream by @lourrynavy  Words: 123k

Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.

Witch/Magical Louis

Nocturnal Creatures Are Not So Prudent by @doncasterkitten Words: 24k

Louis is a white witch with a little black cat named Hemlock and a best human friend Liam (they're a lot like Samantha Stephens and Louise Tate). When he's dragged out to a new club Liam's heard about from a friend and classmate, Louis comes face to face with that which witches do not touch: a charming vampire by the name of Harry.

You Take Me Over, You’re the Magic in My Veins by @supernope  Words: 36k

No, he thinks, he has no desire to be betrothed to Princess Gemma, but he finds he wouldn’t mind being married after all, if it was Prince Harry he was promised to, instead.

May We Stay Lost On Our Way Home by LoadedGunn Words: 74k

On March 31st, Harry Styles disappears. Though many speculate, only two people know where to find him: Niall, his former guitarist, and Zayn, who follows where Niall leads.

The fact the biggest boy band in the world broke up two weeks earlier might be related to the disappearance. The fact Harry meets a fairy named Louis in the woods is a whole other matter.

Nocturne in silver and blue @tinyweirdloves Words: 97k

louis is a fallen star and harry brings him home. told over the course of fourteen years.

[tsundozer]

#6: Papers, Please

FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt #6: Identification Mentions: @anyways-heres-manawall Excerpt from “Lominsa Dan and the Plunderer’s of the Forgotten King”

“Papers, please.”

The guard stood fast, blocking the path through the frozen gates and leaving their entry blocked. Traveling to Ilsabard was a dangerous endeavor--moreso, when you were attempting to enter through illegitimate means. Dan, being the sort of man he was, tried to shrug his way past and enter. It didn’t go well. He wound up flat on his ass with the barrel of a rifle pointed at his chest.

“No papers, no entry,” the guard said. We could hear the hatred in his voice--hatred for people like us. Savages. Hastily, I pulled him back. It wouldn’t have done any good, to see him die on the street. Not when we’d come so far--not when we’d worked our arses off to get here. What would Larkson have said, if I came home without him? I imagined it: yeah, no, sorry bout that. Your pal’s bit the dust. Yeah. He tried to walk past the Garlemald border without any permits. Mhm. They used his corpse to feed the dogs. Tragic. Like I was going to let that be on my head.

“I have my fuckin’ papers! Do you--do you know who I am?!” Dan shouted at the man, once I’d helped him to his feet. spittle flew from his lips, his face was red, but the guard didn’t budge.

All he did was repeat: “No papers, no entry.”

It was no surprise, that Lominsa Dan had a temper. He had one to match the most dangerous of pirates. But he had always controlled it. It was a carefully restrained lion. Dignified. Not a rabid dog, like what I saw then. But I think I understood. Lominsa Dan was the sort of man who crawled up from nothing. A bastard of the G tribe, he rode to adulthood on a handful of stories of his old man, and promises of something greater--but all his life, all he ever found was scorn at being another one of the tribals. Spurned by his tribe, and vilified as backwards and simple by the good people of Ul’dah, better for little more than a fuck at the quicksand for dirt cheap. To have earned a research degree in Sharlayan, to have had the opportunity to converse with the Forum, only to be treated like a savage at the gates of the most advanced country in the world. I could see it in his eyes. I could almost imagine how he felt when he first stepped into Ul’dah, and heard the word ‘Cat’ thrown at him. All the Tia jokes. Every time he got called Bastard. I could see it all rolled into a seething hatred for the man standing in our way.

I squeezed his shoulder. Don’t worry, this isn’t no fuckin’ love story--you can pick up your favorite voidsent forbidden love piece of trash from Sapphire Avenue if that’s more your liking--but to ignore the things I had come to feel for the man would be to ignore a significant part of his (our) story. You see, despite having known him, been by his side, for five turns. I felt like it was only in that moment, that I truly saw him--saw past the bluster and bravado. Saw the anger, the hurt, the indignation. All of the things I sensed the day I met him, but could never put a finger on, could never explain. There, in that moment, I think I saw a sliver of vulnerability that Dan would never admit to me, to Larkson, to Rina, not even to his dear dead mum. He shrugged me off, but I didn’t mind. I think he’d earned the right to be indignant, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want someone giving me pity right about now, either.

Dan stormed off, swiping his hat back up off the ground (it had fallen), and smashing it almost violently back onto his head. There was a tavern down the way, along the border. A frequent stop for merchants and a great place for us to spend the night. He wasn’t about to give up--he’d traveled thousands of malms, chasing after mal Ventari, right back to the most dangerous place in the world for a man like him. The Athanthus stone was far too great and far too terrible a power to rest in the hands of such a man. It was more than that, though--he had been beaten. Beaten in the cheapest way possible. Not by brains, not by brawn, but by luck and resources. The last words from the man’s lips back at the Allagan dig rang clear in Dan’s mind:

Once again, professor--what was briefly yours is now mine.

He was ruminating the whole way, right to the tavern, right through the doors. He probably would have stayed sour the whole night, and well into the next day, if a voice hadn’t but through the miasma of angry, annoyed, prideful feelings.

“Professor Danneson! Heard you had a spot of trouble getting past the border.”

Heads snapped. Dan looked in his direction. Very few, if any, called him Professor Danneson (true, it was his Eorzeanized title--he chose it because he was the son of famous adventurer D’anh Tia). Dan worked just fine.

“Whaddya want?” Dan looked the man over, critically. Carefully. He was in a foul mood, and someone this far from home knowing his name--it didn’t sit well with him. I didn’t blame him one bit.

“Why, to help, of course!” The voice came from a tall, fair-skinned elezen--much too tall, too broad. Pale--a half-breed. A half-garlean, waving them over.

Dan (against the judgement of his superior half) moved to sit by the man. He was broad, sturdy, but had a skeezy look about him. You couldn’t trust him as well as you could throw him--which wasn’t far at all. Little known fact: Dan had a terrible throwing arm. Couldn’t teach his own son to catch a ball. Nobody’s perfect, huh?

“You,” Dan started, “help me?” His tone was cautious. Skeptical.

“Of course! You’re a scholar of no small renown! You discovered Gelmorran burial chambers! You uncovered the Golden Man of Sil’dih! You fought off Garleans,” he said the word with an air of clear disdain (self-loathing, much?), “Just because you didn’t want to move from your precious little dig. It would be an honor, to help you. Besides--if mal Ventari has his way, you’ll be out of more than just a job, won’t you?

“And what, exactly, do you expect to get from this?”

The man withdrew several forms--documents for the both of us, under assumed names. How he ever got such a thing, I’ll never know. “To take the bastard down, of course--and a favor.”

Rha raised a brow, but I knew he’d already accepted in his mind. It was risky, but he was angry, indignant, and desperate. The perfect storm for a perfect mistake. “A favor?”

“A favor,” the man agreed! “When you’re so ubiquitous, that you’re never asked for your papers again, we’ll find you.”

Before I could object, he was gone. He left through the doors and out into the bitter cold. I gave the papers a lookover, and I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes.

They’d been approved three moons in advance.

[hellostarlight20]

I Will...6/10

Ten x Rose Rated T Telepathy (telepathic marriage bond) Angst Fluffy laughter Not exactly a rewrite Dimension Hopping Rose JE fixit Happy ending! Beta’d by the ever fabulous MrsBertucci, without whom this chapter wouldn’t exist AO3 and TSP and on Tumblr Chapter 1 (the corrected!) 2, 3, 4, 5 Part of the The Adventures of Bad Wolf and the TARDIS…and their Doctor series

…find a way

“Mum and Pete are taking little Tony to Broadchurch this weekend,” Rose told him.

“You’re not going?” The Doctor asked, looking at her askance. “Where’s Broadchurch?”

“Little beach town in West Bay, Dorset.” Rose paused then rushed on. “I…I might go. There’s not much left to do at Torchwood with the canon, and Mickey—well, Micks convinced me that spending time with them while I can might be the best thing.”

The Doctor did his very best not to let his jealousy bleed through their link. He tried, really. He gave his success rate as maybe 68%. Rose didn’t hit him but she didn’t look at him, either. No, she kept her head on his chest, fingers running lightly through the hairs covering it.

“How’s his Gran?” He didn’t want to talk about Mickey Smith in their bedroom as they lay in bed, drowsy and content and naked, but they promised never to hold back, not to keep secrets while they were separated.

More than that, he knew something bothered Rose. The Doctor didn’t know if it was their separation, the lack of progress on the cannon, or loneliness.

The same loneliness that choked him and made him contemplate desperate things—like dismantling the dead Daleks in a 1930 New York sewer and using whatever he could from them to punch through the Void. They did it, they broke through and with a few tweaks he could as well. After all, he was far smarter than a Dalek.

He hadn’t. Well, all right, he had dismantled them. He’d taken them apart with cold precision and destroyed the cavern they’d used for their hideous experiments.

But he hadn’t punched through the Void.

The TARDIS somehow alerted Martha who lectured him on destroying the universe and demanded to speak to Rose. Not the first or last time that had happened. And Rose. His beloved, his hearts…

He held her tighter, his own grief and loneliness swelling through him.

Or maybe it was hers.

If asking after a beach trip or Mickey’s Gran helped Rose, then that’s what he’d do. He had to be there for her, even if it was to talk about vacation plans with the family and her best mate. Plans he couldn’t participate in.

“They moved into the mansion. Rita-Ann wasn’t too sure of that, she remembered this world’s Pete and Jackie and, of course, heard all the gossip. Everyone heard about Jackie’s death.” She paused and sighed, and the Doctor ran his fingers through her hair, hoping that small movement, the slight press of his fingers on her scalp, soothed her. “But Mickey convinced her. Best place for her. Best place for all of us. And it’s nice, having Mickey around.”

“So, Broadchurch, eh? Nice place?”

“So I hear. Sleepy little town, but it’ll be nice to get away.”

The Doctor kissed her and tugged her closer to him. He loved telepathic sex with Rose, but he missed touching her physical body as badly as he missed sharing their adventures.

“We’re heading to Cardiff,” the Doctor told her.

Rose rubbed her leg over his, head on his chest, and kissed the spot between his hearts. “Going to refill the TARDIS?”

“She deserves it. Doesn’t need it often, but after being powered down for the three months I hid from the Family and then being caught by the Angels when we were separated...” The Doctor shuddered and tightened his hold on her.

“Almost had to take out a mortgage,” Rose teased. But she kissed him gently and cupped his face. “Whatever would you have done?”

The Doctor caught her gaze and held her hand to his cheek. “Bad enough that flat had curtains.”

“Didn’t have carpets at least.” Rose lay her head back on his chest and held him tight. “And you had Martha. I’m glad she was with you—she’s good.”

“She’s a star, Martha Jones is.”

“Shame we can’t communicate through the watch anymore.” Rose sighed, though he didn’t feel her soft breath on his chest. The loss cut through him. “I miss being a part of your life.”

“You are my life.”

The Doctor swallowed and shuddered, pushing his loneliness and fear as far back into the screaming pit of darkness he carried with him. She didn’t need that. She needed him. His support, his love, his telling her of how he spent his day even if it was wandering through marketplaces with Martha looking for elusive TARDIS parts.

“I don’t need you two ganging up on me again!” He pulled her even closer. He’d give a regeneration for Rose to be in the same universe, galaxy, planet, TARDIS, room with him, she and Martha teasing him.

They were both right when they told him that his plan to evade the family wasn’t his best. Being with Rose in the watch greyed out a portion of their link; in a way it was fantastic, being with her all the time. As if they hadn’t been separated.

However it wasn’t the same, and him being John Smith had killed a lot of people and ruined an entire village. Not to mention how he’d hurt Joan Redfern. And Martha.

“It’s impossible now, without my mind in there. No way to connect the two of you.”

“No, I know. Still, it was nice having a friend…” Rose trailed off and the Doctor looked down at her.

She never talked about it, but then the Doctor knew everything that went on in Rose’s mind. She was lonely in the other universe. Achingly so. Not only because she missed him but because that world treated her like an interloper.

Half of Torchwood thought she was a vacuous daddy’s girl bleeding money from Pete—of course half of the UK thought she was a vacuous daddy’s girl who resurfaced as Pete Tyler’s daughter to bleed him of money.

It didn’t matter how smart she was or how uninterested in money she was. It didn’t matter she donated her Torchwood salary to President Harriet Jones’s charity, Feed the United Kingdom. It also didn’t matter that Jackie made a miraculous return from the dead and that she completely embraced Rose as their daughter. (A convoluted story the Vitex PR department had a hell of a time spinning.)

Other than the handful of dimension canon scientists and technicians assigned to work with her, ostensibly to study the feasibility of interdimensional travel and the impact on the environment, both Earth’s and the universe’s, Rose only spoke with Mickey and Jake. At least she had them, and for that the Doctor had never been more grateful to Mr. Mickey.

“How go the jumper calculations?” He asked, changing the subject.

Rose shrugged. “Still at a standstill. Not because it won’t work,” she amended and kissed where his right heart beat beneath her touch. “You and Mickey both agree on the calculations, which—” she raised her head and glared at him—“I never want to go through again. Had a migraine for a week, I did, having the pair of ya go back and forth on dimensional coordinates verses galactical verses Earth Prime.” She shuddered and scowled. “No, those pinpricks in the Void walls aren’t big enough.”

Neither said those pinpricks might never be big enough for her to jump through. Neither had to. They both knew the risks. For now, it didn’t matter. She’d been trapped a year there, already.

Not enough time for anyone to notice the changes in her. Not yet. But then he hadn’t even realized Bad Wolf changed her to begin with. It’d taken months and months; only after she and the TARDIS merged again to fly the ship to pre-Revolutionary France had either of them realized anything had changed in Rose.

“The TARDIS is still scanning,” he promised. And his amazing ship hummed insistently in his head, promising she was, in fact, looking hard for any way to reunite the three of them.

“I know.” Rose sniffed back tears and the Doctor moved just enough to cradle her face in his hands. To show her, as tenderly as possible, the depth of his love for her.

“Don’t cry, my hearts,” he begged. “Please don’t cry.”

“I miss you.” She looked up and grinned at the ceiling. “I miss you, too, darling.”

The TARDIS preened, but Rose’s voice broke and the Doctor couldn’t even roll his eyes at the pair of them. All he could do was blink back his own tears, his own grief, and hold his wife close.

Clung to her might’ve been a better descriptor.

“We won’t be in Cardiff long,” he told her, kissing her gently. “Any suggestions for our next trip?”

“Have you taken Martha to that asteroid bazar?” Rose wound her arms around his neck and slid her leg over his hip. The Doctor couldn’t feel her tears on his chest and hate that more than he loathed the fact she cried. Unable to say anything around the lump in his own throat, he held her closer. “The one with the eight-foot-tall troubadours in that anti-gravity well?”

“Herschel Asteroid.” He nodded in agreement.

“The one discovered by the first English female astronomer, yeah?”

“Yup!”

“Take her there. I think she’ll like it. Lots to see, good ice cream, too.”

They never made it to Herschel Asteroid. They didn’t even last long in Cardiff. The Doctor tried to joke about no one ever expecting Jack Harkness, but it fell flat.

“Hello again.” The Doctor frowned down at the body as Martha raced inside the TARDIS for the medical kit she insisted on keeping handy after a small (very slight) problem with Daivander Stinger Bugs which most definitely was not his fault! “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Here we go.” Martha pushed him out of the way and knelt beside Jack. “Get out of the way. It’s a bit odd, though. Not very hundred trillion. That coat’s more like World War Two.”

“I think he came with us,” he said and wondered how he could keep this from Rose.

She slept now, he had carefully calculated his and Martha’s trips so he could spend the maximum amount of time with Rose in their telepathic world. Rose needed her sleep, she pushed herself to develop the dimension cannon, and he was loathed to deprive her because he was lonely.

“How do you mean, from Earth?” Martha squinted up at him.

“Friend of mine,” the Doctor was forced to admit. Martha frowned. “Used to travel with me, back in the old days.”

“With Rose?” Martha asked softly.

His gaze jerked from Jack’s body to her, though he really didn’t see Martha. He didn’t see this planet or Jack or even care. He saw the three of them, Team TARDIS Rose had called them. “Yeah. We—before. The other me—we traveled together.”

“Oh.” Martha nodded and the Doctor was suddenly relieved he’d told her about regeneration. Especially since Jack might or might not know about it, and either way this barren land wasn’t the place to describe what happened.

“But he’s—I’m sorry,” Martha whispered. “There’s no heartbeat. There’s nothing. He’s dead.”

Of course Jack wasn’t and when he woke up, he scared ten years off Martha. The Doctor, uncomfortable, sad, and desperately trying to figure out how to tell Rose, couldn’t even grin.

“Nice to meet you, Martha Jones.” Jack winked. The Doctor did roll his eyes then.

“Doctor.” Jack stood and helped Martha up as well.

“Captain.”

He tried not to watch Martha as he and Jack exchanged what could only be called forced polite hellos. Not even all that polite.

“Just got to ask. The Battle of Canary Wharf. I saw the list of the dead. It said Rose Tyler.”

His hearts squeezed and for a moment his world stopped. The Doctor frantically reached out for Rose, despite her slumber, and for a moment—a lifetime—held her close. “Oh, no! Sorry, she’s alive.”

Stunned, Jack’s façade fell and his smile bloomed. “You’re kidding!”

“Parallel world.” The words cut through him as surely as any sword. “Safe and sound. And Mickey, and her mother.”

“Oh, yes!” Jack hugged him and the Doctor let him. And for a moment, reveled in the lie. That he could find Rose any time he wanted to. That he could see her whenever the fancy took hold of him—

As simple as crossing a bridge.

“Wait a minute.” Jack pulled back and squinted at him.

“Yes,” Martha said and stood between them, allowing the Doctor distance and he seriously wanted to fall to her feet in gratitude. “Great reunion and all,” she interrupted. “But we’re a hundred trillion years in the future. Let’s explore, eh?”

It wasn’t until they were in the silo, with Jack in the radiation chamber that the Doctor admitted what he knew Jack wanted to know.

“You married her,” Jack said, stunned. “Even knowing—?”

“I—yeah.” He and Rose had only told Jackie about what Bad Wolf had done to her, how opening the Heart of the TARDIS and looking into the Vortex fundamentally altered her, increasing her longevity, her healing, her overall health.

Once it became clear to both of them he couldn’t pilot the TARDIS through the remaining gaps in the Void, Rose finally told Mickey who just nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, that don’t surprise me none,” he’d said and they returned to their cannon work.

“She’s not just in the other universe, Jack.” Each word chipped at what little composure he maintained outside his and Rose’s telepathic bedroom. He hadn’t been in their real, physical, bedroom since losing her. “I can’t reach her. The walls closed after the Time War and it was only because the Cybermen punched through that the gaps opened in the first place. She’s trapped there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Yeah. He was, too.

“What happened?” Jack asked, and his tone caught the Doctor. Lived through the entirety of the 20th century—yeah, Jack knew all about loss and loneliness. Grief. Even waiting a hundred years to see Rose again, Jack mourned her as if they met for tea only yesterday.

So, the Doctor told him—Bad Wolf, merging with the TARDIS, flying back to save him. Them.

“If you’re married…” Jack let the sentence trail off. “Oh. I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Yeah.” He repeated. “How could I say no to her?” the Doctor whispered. “She was everything to me.” He sniffed, looked away from Jack. “Still is.”

And then all hell broke loose.

The Doctor grabbed Jack’s wrist and flicked through the sonic’s settings as quickly as possible. They needed to leave this place before either the riot reached them, the atmospheric shell dissolved, or the Master decided not to take any chances and return to kill him anyway. Freezing the TARDIS’s controls wouldn’t last long, not on another Time Lord, but the Doctor knew his beloved ship wouldn’t let someone like the Master break into her systems.

They landed hard, with Rose screaming in his head and that sickening feeling of transporting through the Vortex minus a TARDIS making him dizzy. Rose railed at him, fists beating against his chest for not only lying to her about Jack but about her part in his change.

“My hearts.” He grabbed her hands and held her close as she spat at him, tears streaking her beautiful face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

“There’s no excuse, Doctor,” she said, hard and flat and too silent for anything other than furious anger. “You lied to me after promising me never to do so. After telling me that sharing a bond opened up everything you were to another.”

“I—yes. I did. You’re right, there’s no excuse.” He took a breath, though that did nothing but allow him to taste the air. “I buried it deep, far too deep for you to find, and I did it on purpose.” Jaw clenched, he met her gaze. “And I did it because I’m a coward. I ran from Jack because he’s wrong, time-wise, yes, but you’re right. I could’ve returned.”

“Why didn’t you?” she demanded. “Any time you could’ve said, we traveled for months together before we found out about Bad Wolf—and then for a year or so after that! WHY?”

He ran his hand through is hair—now wasn’t the time for this conversation and he knew it, but he’d lied to his wife, his bond mate.

“I was afraid!” he shouted, more at himself than her. “I’d kept it from you for so long and then I didn’t know how to tell you. I was terrified you’d—” he cut himself off.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “That I’d what?”

“That you wouldn’t forgive me for being more concerned over you, over keeping you safe. I was regenerating, Rose, and you’d just looked into the Heart of the TARDIS. Forgive me for being more concerned for you than Jack.”

“And later?”

He swallowed and closed his eyes, the weight of his lies caving his chest inward. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Even when I promised never to keep anything from you, you believed me because it was the truth. By then—by then,” he said softer, “I’d buried Jack and what happened to him so far back I meant every word.”

“The TARDIS is chiming in my head.” She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. Pulling back, Rose kissed him fiercely, hungrily. “We are by no means finished with his, mister.” She pecked his lips and stepped out of his arms. “But do what you need to do to stop the Master.”

“I love you, my hearts.”

Rose nodded. “I know. I love you, too, Doctor, even when I’m furious with you.”

The Doctor opened his eyes and found himself on a street with Jack and Martha—no. Martha wasn’t there.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted, looking pale and worried. “The Vortex Manipulators work on multiple people when everyone is holding on, and I know she was.”

The Doctor felt sick—if Martha let go, she could be floating in the Vortex. He had no way of tracking her, no way of finding her if she was lost.

“She’s all right, Doctor.”

“Rose?”

“She’s in the TARDIS. We’ll look after her.”

“Rose says Martha is in the TARDIS.” He looked at Jack, who looked confusedly intrigued, and shrugged. “At least she’s safe.”

[lastbluetardis]

Journeys End in Lovers Meeting 1/2

This was written for the incredible @chocolatequeennk. Happy Birthday, Nancy!! I hope you like it! Chapter 2 should be ready later this week! <3

Ten x Rose, ~1.8k

After being separated shortly after agreeing to a marriage bond, the Doctor and Rose find their way back to each other and try to pick up their relationship where they left off—after saving the multiverse from a Dalek attack, of course.

AO3

Rose was flushed and breathing raggedly beneath him as he pillowed his head against her breasts. God, he loved making love with her. He’d loved making love to her before they’d added telepathy to their intimacy, but feeling her in his mind, literally infiltrating every thought… It was indescribable.

“Love you,” he mumbled, reluctantly lifting himself off of her.

He flopped heavily onto his back and opened his arms for her, humming happily when she crawled into them.

“Love you, too, Doctor,” she murmured, nuzzling her cheek atop his left heart.

Her mind buzzed blissfully around his, and he was loath to break the connection.

“Not yet?” she asked, recognizing the shift in his mind that meant he was about to dissolve their connection. “Just… not yet? I—I like having you here.”

The Doctor hummed happily at her shy admission.

“So do I, Rose,” he said earnestly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

They lapsed into silence, each of them basking in the love and warmth they were both exuding, until finally the Doctor broke the stillness.

“You know,” he said nonchalantly, carding his fingers through her hair. “There is a way for us to keep a more permanent mental connection. If that’s something you might want?”

“Yeah?” she asked, turning to look up at him. His mind felt nervous, now, and she tried to lessen that. She never wanted him to feel anxious or unsettled around her, so she focused on how much she loved him, and hoped he could feel even one iota of what she felt.

“Oh, Rose.”

His sharp gasp and trembling of his hands made her optimistic that she had succeeded, and she tilted her head to brush her lips across every patch of skin she could reach.

He rolled towards her, displacing her from his chest, and cradled her cheek in his palm to press a tender kiss to her lips. His mind flared in hers, and she gasped into his mouth when she felt the utter love and trust and happiness he was projecting.

“You-you were saying?” she prompted shakily as his lips grazed across her jaw and down her neck.

“Hmm?”

Rose broke out in goosebumps as his hot breath tickled her skin, and she bit back a moan as she tried to focus.

“You were saying we could have a more permanent connection?”

The Doctor froze, and some of the warmth of his mind chilled back to nervousness. Rose reached out to stroke his hair until his worries had calmed.

“Right, yes. Well, you see, my people were all telepathic,” he began, settling his head back against his pillow. “As you know. Obviously. And there was not only the physical aspect of a relationship—which they sort of looked down on anyway—but there was also a mental one. It was fairly rare, though, at least during my time on Gallifrey. You see, Gallifreyan relationships weren’t what you’re used to. They were built around societal stability and advancement. A match was made because it was logical, not because the two parties actually loved each other. But there were stories of the rare few who were matched out of love, and formed what was called a marriage bond. It’s a literal melding of the minds. What we’re sharing right now—” His mind brushed warmly against hers, and Rose shivered at the tenderness behind the caress. “Well, a marriage bond would be… more.”

The Doctor must have felt her incredulity—how could anything be more than what they were already sharing?—and he chuckled.

“What we’re sharing now still leaves us some semblance of privacy in our heads,” he explained. “We have our individual thoughts and emotions that we have to consciously choose to project to each other. Well, except when we’re overwhelmed by a very strong emotion.” The Doctor’s touch on her mind turned undeniably sultry and passionate, and Rose shivered when she felt a deep ache swoop through her stomach.

“It sounds beautiful,” Rose began, and she hesitated before admitting, “but it sounds invasive. Like we’d have no privacy anymore.”

“Well, it’s sort of meant to be like that,” the Doctor said, rubbing a hand across his jaw as he stared at their ceiling. “I mean… it’s the epitome of intimacy. But if you don’t want…”

He trailed off with a shrug that broke Rose’s heart. She could feel the yearning he was radiating beneath his nonchalance.

“But you want a bond like that with me,” Rose said.

“What we’ve been sharing has been more than I could have ever hoped for,” he answered. He leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Honestly. Being able to share in your mind like this… being able to make love to you… it’s perfect. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you in my head on a more permanent basis. However, I will not bond with you if you don’t want it. And don’t you dare agree to it just because you think it will make me happy, Rose. A marriage bond is permanent, only broken by the death of one of the partners.”

Rose nodded, and she bit her lip against her next question. But she had to know… “And you’re not just asking because of yesterday, are you?”

The Doctor had given Rose her annual check-up, and when he’d analyzed a sample of her blood, he’d been astounded by what he’d seen. After nearly an hour of the Doctor poking and prodding her as he took various other samples from her, she finally got him to assure her she wasn’t dying. Quite the opposite—he’d found that her cells were decaying exponentially slower than they should, and that she was riddled with Huon particles and Artron energy, presumably left over from when she’d merged with the TARDIS.

“No, Rose,” he vowed fiercely. He cradled her jaw in his palm and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “We’ve been intimate for nearly six months… the very first time you allowed me into your mind, I knew it was only a matter of time before I asked you for a more complete bond.”

Rose nodded and nuzzled her nose into his chest. Her eyes fluttered shut as she was shrouded in his contentment, and she threw hers into the mix to make a cocktail of lethargy. It felt so right to have the Doctor in her mind. Even the first time they’d tried it, the alienness of their telepathic connection had disappeared almost instantly, leaving behind a comfort and familiarity that made Rose ache with love for her Doctor.

“There are still ways to keep your mind private,” the Doctor murmured, his voice slurring slightly as he tugged their duvet around them. “I could teach you. And there’s always the common courtesy of allowing your partner their privacy. If there’s anything else you want to know about a marriage bond, please ask me. Or the TARDIS. I’m sure she could guide you to a whole shelf of books in the library. But like I said, don’t agree just to appease me. I’m more than content with the way things are between us now.”

Rose nodded into his chest, feeling a nervous anticipation creep over her. The more he talked about the bond, the more her yearning grew. She loved feeling him in her mind now, and had done ever since they first added telepathy to their relationship.

“Can we stop by Mum’s later today?” she asked, strumming her fingers up and down his ribs.

“Your mum’s?” he asked with a wrinkled nose.

“Yeah. I suppose I ought to tell her I’m engaged, don’t you think?”

Rose held her breath as she watched the Doctor’s emotions play out across his face, and across her mind. They morphed from confused shock to tentative hope and back again as he blinked rapidly.

“You want—?” he squeaked.

“I want,” she confirmed, reaching up to cup his cheek as she tried to project to him the surety she was feeling. “I want that so much, Doctor.”

His breath caught in his throat, and suddenly his lips were on hers. They were hot and uncoordinated, and Rose giggled into the kiss as she tried to assert some semblance of order.

“Oh, Rose,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to tug her closer. “Oh, love…”

He buried his face into her neck and Rose was nearly overwhelmed by the utter joy he was projecting. Tears prickled behind her eyes as she felt how loved she was by him.

“So loved,” he whispered raggedly, pressing his lips to her neck. “So completely, utterly, eternally loved.”

Rose turned her head and caught his lips in a kiss.

oOoOo

They made it to Jackie’s eventually, for a quick little trip to check in on her after the Elton debacle, and to share their good news.

“And I got you this,” Rose said, pulling the Bazoolium out of her pocket. While her mum still fretted over her travels, Rose found that Jackie could be quite easily placated with little trinkets she found across the universe. She had hoped a new gift for her mum might butter her up before she and the Doctor shared their news…

“I’ve got a surprise for you and all,” Jackie exclaimed, barely looking at the weather divinator Rose handed her.

“Oh, I get her Bazoolium, she doesn't even say thanks,” Rose mumbled. The Doctor giggled beside her, and she couldn’t help but share a smile with him.

She and the Doctor followed her mother into the kitchen to see what surprise she had for them, even though they were itching to get back to the TARDIS so they could finally complete the bond they were both so eager for.

And that’s when their quick little jaunt to Jackie’s turned into the worst day of their lives. That was when they discovered the ghosts that weren’t ghosts, and Torchwood, and the Cybermen and the Daleks.

But even when it seemed that all hope had been lost, Rose had faith. She believed in her Doctor, and in them. She believed they would both survive the day, and save the Earth while they were at it.

She stayed with the Doctor, reaffirming her promise of forever—“I made my choice a long time ago, and I’m never going to leave you.”—and Rose was so proud of him when he nodded at her and let her stay with him to man the computers.

It was all going perfectly…

…Until it wasn’t. Minutes passed in a blur of hazy white and echoing screams and the insurmountable tug from the Void they’d opened.

And what should have been the happiest day of their life ended with them both making the forty-five storey walk down Torchwood Tower without the other, both trapped on the wrong side of a transdimensional white wall.

[theaboydsnest]

Homesick

It’s already my second day in London, and I don’t have much to show for it. Actually that’s not true. I made one acquaintance who told me all about her travels in Ireland and gave me a laundry list of places to visit, unfortunately she had the leave the next morning back to her home in Belgium. She was lovely. For a brief moment I was able to escape the suffocating beast of being homesick. I’m quite certain that everyone in the bloody hostel is tired of my tears, thank god I don’t have to see any of them again. In the last 48 hours (which has felt like a freaking eternity!) I would venture that my tears could fill a litre water bottle, which as I’m writing this reminds me that I need to go buy one, since this godforsaken hostel doesn’t have clean drinking water…fuckers. If you cant tell I really want to get out of this fucking place, just one more night and then I’m checking into a hotel so I can cry in some bloody peace and quiet!

I was supposed to fly out to Ireland tomorrow, land in Dublin. But I’ve cancelled that for a whopping refund of 0 pounds! But it was too much too soon. It’s funny because I usually underestimate myself, but on this trip it seems that I’ve greatly overestimated my abilities. My trip was scheduled to be two months, which feels like an impossible feat at this point. So here’s a little back story: I have really bad anxiety and depression. It’s something I’ve dealt with for a while now, but my issues have been quite severe for the last few years. And now that I’ve graduated from Uni I’ve started to feel like myself again…along with all of the work I’ve been doing with my therapist and just spending time to work on myself. So with all of this, I thought “Hey Thea, you’ve always wanted to go travelling, why not mend your broken heart and eat, pray, love your way through the UK?” so my brain was like yeah this is the perfect time, and my heart hasn’t known whether it’s up or down for some time now. So I went with my brain and booked my trip. Ignoring my gut that was telling me I couldn’t do it, because I just chalked it up to anxiety, and at this point I was ready to give anxiety the middle finger because I’m tired of living in fear. So here I sit in London, feeling a bit broken and down in the dumps. But occasionally I get hit by these waves, and I think it feels like freedom. But I don’t really know, because I’ve never felt free. Most of the time though I feel like I’m being hit by a tsunami of pain, sadness, fear and loneliness. I thought staying in a hostel would be invigorating and that I would meet tons of people right off the bat. Turns out I couldn’t be more wrong. It’s such a humbling feeling to e surrounded by so many people, but to feel so very alone at the same time. So far I’ve won the lottery of shitty roommates, all whom have been men and feel that it’s appropriate to undress in our shared living quarters. However, I cant really blame them because the tiny washroom we have to share with 14 people is filthy and the floor is constantly covered in about a centimeter of water. Water that peoples feet and nastiness has been marinating in, which is also on my feet cause I was an idiot and forgot to bring flip-flops. Those of you reading this that know me, know that I LOATH feet. Fucking hate them. And for the past two nights I’ve gone to bed with disgusting foot water all over my feet. Vom.com

Side note: I’m sitting outside at a charming little café and the road I’m facing appears to be a one way, apparently it’s not holy shit. Do people just drive wherever they want here?! Definitely not going to be operating a motorized vehicle here, or a bike for that matter. Walking seems to be the safest way to get around except I don’t understand their cross walks…or if there are any. Some streets tell me which way to look for oncoming traffic which is very helpful since I almost got smucked last night. No worries though, the bloke driving the car offered me some lovely words of advice (this is sarcasm).

Tangential to this side note: people smoke like bloody chimneys here, also apparently vaping is allowed in the hostel. So that’s like hostel 4: thea -1000 So as it stands right now, I’m somewhere between being so homesick I want to board the next flight out of London, and feeling terrified because I don’t have anywhere to sleep tomorrow night and I would rather sleep on a park bench than another hostel. Don’t worry mum, it wont come to that…fingers crossed. Mix in there a heaping spoonful of I don’t know where the fuck I am and my phone doesn’t even turn on because it’s so broken…so no using google maps to find my way around. Oh and don’t forget a dash of if a see a dog I will pet it without asking you and probably cry all over the beautiful fluffy piece of heaven.  So yeah, that’s roughly where I’m at right now if you can follow my disrupted train of thought, which I’m going to blame on jet lag, but really this is just how scattered my brain is on the daily.

Anyway, I’m safe and alive and that’s all I can really ask for. My guts are turning about having to navigate their bloody transport system tomorrow, so keep me in your thoughts please haha.

Its funny, above I was tempted to write “keep me in your prayers” but I’m not a religious person, so it seemed disingenuous of me to say that. But I’ve found myself searching for some kind of divinity while I’m out here on my own. The first place I walked to was St. George’s church. It has a bell tower which reminded me of living downtown, so I walked until I found it. I sat across the street in awe of the painted glass windows. And I thought of the blessed souls that pledge their devotion to the church and believe in a higher power. Believing in a higher power is always something I wished I could do, but I find that I’m too much of a realist to believe in something so blindly. But as I was sitting on this bench I found myself striking up conversation with some person, animal, thing in my head. And I asked for kindness and compassion in my journey. And I asked for safety above all. It was really quite something, and honestly I still don’t really know what to make of it. Around the back of the cathedral was the most beautiful park with old growth trees and a quaint little fountain. I wanted so badly to go sit by the fountain and enjoy the peace. Be one with my thoughts and fears, but the damn thing was closed. So I walked a bit farther and eventually made it back to my hostel. Oh that was after I ate the absolute BEST pasta I’ve ever had. With feeling so homesick I haven’t been eating much, so I had about 6 small bites and threw in the towel. The sweet waitress that spoke about as much English as I do Italian asked if I was okay? I had to laugh because I was the farthest thing from okay, but this kind soul was genuinely concerned about me because I had hardly touched the biggest plate of pasta on this planet. Even if I was feeling 100% there’s no way I could have finished it haha.

Anyway, I’ve been sitting in this café for a few hours now and my tea is quite cold, so I should probably get on with it. Until next time. xx

[jenuine-reality]

Story of a bro/ken girl

I may look like a cheerful and well-travelled young lady who is also creative, extroverted and well-liked, despite my straight-forwardness and extremely feisty temper.

But the truth is, I struggle with very severe depression and not proud to say, the up and downs of depressive and mania episodes have further caused me with eating disorder, bulimia. I have lost quite a bit of weight due to this. Probably that’s the only one small victory that came out of all these miseries. 

The past few months was the worse period of my life.

I wallowed into a lot of self-loathe, anger and misery. And so much crying that ‘excessive’ would be an understatement. 

If depression was an actual person, he would be the motherfucking asshole who tells you that you are unworthy, unloved, and everything bad that happens is your own fault and you don’t deserve anything good in life. He is also the demon that would drain every single bit of your energy and causes constant fatigue. 

Every morning on my lowest period, I would wake up with paralysis and physical pain. I also struggle with daily functions like brushing my teeth, showering and even trying to get up from the bed seems like the hardest things in the world. I was incapable to function and only ate one meal a day. The idea of facing the world was terrifying and I remember isolating every single person I know because yes, depression also tells me that all my friends secretly hate me, nobody cares and eventually everyone would leave. I just could not see past the lies depression told me despite the fact that I am loved, I am needed and I am wanted. 

Various morbid suicidal thoughts went through my mind;  

“How long would someone actually take to find already gone from this world? Would anyone miss me for who I am? Would I just be known to the people as a coward who cannot face my issues despite the fact there are many people in this world have worse off issues?”

I knew I could not persist this anymore and decided to seek for professional help.  

I then started my journey of anti-depressants and jot down on an instastory journal of the process of doing so. As much as I would like to blog out my thoughts back then, the depression monster has occupied every single bit of energy I have left. Not to mention, the voices kept telling me “Why bother? No one would ever understand. They would just think you are just an attention-seeking whore.” 

I religiously took my medication because I genuinely wanted to be well. Or at least do the job of numbing the pain and grief I was facing. 

The anti-depressants were a double-edge sword. It did numbed a lot of my pain but also “zombified” me that I felt “nothing” and “empty”. Once the medication effect runs out, I felt that the monster got bigger and it would overpower me again. 

Being in a worse-off state, I took more dosages of meds, simply just hopping it would prolong the numbing effect. At that point of time, it didn’t cross my mind that I was involving substance abuse and I was getting addicted. 

There was one extremely dark night, I accidentally took 8 dosages where my prescribed medication was 2 dosages and the maximum was 4 dosages. 

“Fuck, should I go to the hospital?” 

That was the first thought on my mind. I know I have contemplated suicide countless times, but the feeling of knowing that I might potentially die at any moment from then is just heart-wrenching. How many people would I be hurting with my death? 

“They would get over it and you would just be part of another oblivion” 

That was what the voices told me so, and it really got into me. 

“Yeah... Why bother?” That was my second thought. I laid on the bed and stared at the white ceiling for a short while before I got knocked out and lose every single train of thought. It was definitely not a normal sleep. If I were to describe more aptly, I would say it is anesthetic sleep where everything goes to complete unconsciousness. The last conscious thought I remembered was, hoping the world would be a better place, people to be kinder and people I care about to never go through what I have to go through... 

But the next morning (or rather, afternoon), I did managed to wake up but with the most intense physical pain ever. Migraine, nausea and diarrhea all came at once. I’d skip the specific graphics about how I purge out because that is not the point, but fortunately, I did manage to get most of the undigested medication out. 

I don’t exactly know how long I was unconscious for but I knew it was hell of a  long time (<16 hours). I promised myself to never ever do this again, be it overdosing or intentionally/accidentally attempting suicide. The intensive pain is not something I want to undergo again, in my life. 

My almost-death experience had me decided to completely quit drugs and focus on changing my mindset, instead of relying on medication. Of course, it wasn’t an instant apperception and I could go on my difficult cold turkey days, but that would be another long story, meant for another day.

This particular experience have made me realised that life is too precious to give up on your own and I am more than grateful that someone up there have given another opportunity to stay alive. Cliche, but very true. 

Also, for my own good reasons, I will not share what was the recent trigger as the pain is still pretty raw and still bothers me up to today. 

However, since I have shed some light on depression, I do have another  confession and story to share - 

I have been depressed ever since I was a child, even before I even knew the definition of it.

I don’t think anybody is born depressed but with sad stories, background and toxic environment, it is all meant to be a tragedy to begin with. Mine has already started, even way before I was born. 

Both of my highly-educated parents hailed from Malaysia and I was birthed in Miri, Sarawak, where it was considered rural 25 years ago. The environment was so terrible that there are no gynecologists around and my mother had to take a ferry to head to hospital for me to be delivered by a midwife. Not to mention, my father was in Sydney’s ICU because he was extremely ill (he was an Australia PR and hence, he was able to receive subsidised medical treatment). 

Many people are surprised with the fact that I am not born in Kuala Lumpur instead, where my mother came from. Afterall, It is a city with actual proper medical facilities. I shall not reveal the full backstory because it involves my mother’s tragic background as well, but basically she was forced by her mother (my grandmother) to get out KL to give birth. Hence, she went to Miri instead even when my dad was not around (and my dad is from Miri). 

I believed she was in an extreme tragic state. With her husband being extremely ill, being a city girl her whole life but had to go to a rural area to give birth, and having an unsupportive mother who didn’t even allow her to give birth in KL.

My mum have never really admitted to me about her pre-natal / post-natal depression but moments she saw me acting up during my depressive episodes, she told me she shouldn’t have affected me when she was pregnant. It breaks my heart to hear her say that and sometimes, I simply wished I was never born... 

Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately), she did gave birth to me after the hardship and my dad’s health condition did improved after receiving treatment in Australia. Hence, all of us moved back to KL and we have gotten a place on our own, to be part of a family. 

However, my family tragedies didn’t end here. 

My family was extremely poor with the debts my father incurred from his failed business ventures and he got ripped off a lot of money from his ex Thai-wife. Hence, my mum had to work extremely hard as the sole-breadwinner to clear his debts. My dad could only do freelance work because he was extremely ill. Many assumed I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Not only that is not true, I also remembered a lot of moments of being poor. It also scares me if I were to struggle to make ends meet when I am older. 

To make things worse for me (and my family), I have to go for an surgery operation due to an anatomy body part issue that was discovered shortly after I turned 6 months old. That not only had burden my family on the financial aspect, it also caused me to have severe body image issues due to the huge operation scar inflicted on my stomach. As this is a relatively private issue, I have never really talked about this to anybody though many assumed that was a scar from cesarean/miscarriage. I probably suffered a lot during those surgery days but it was a good thing I did not remember any. Though the scar on my stomach, is evidently that I did undergo this and it would affect my self-image to a certain extent, for the rest of my life. 

My earliest recognisable moments of my mum was when I was about three years old. Back then, she got headhunted by Citibank Singapore with a job with better pay (due to currency exchange rate) and better prospects. So, she had to leave Malaysia for Singapore to work. 

I remembered vaguely the day she got ready to leave. I did not know what was happening but I knew something was up, like the fact that she was leaving. I was bawling like mad and even took her handbag and begged her not to go. Though being upset, my mum still left and my dad let her do so for a better family life. I guess that was the very first time I have ever felt abandonment. 

Back then, my mother would try to come back every weekend, taking the Friday’s sleeper train in Tanjong Pagar (which is also where she worked and stayed) and returning to Singapore in a sleeper train on Sunday night. It was really very tough for her, but I did not understand the turmoil back then. Slowly, she just became a stranger... 

Life was still tough without my mother’s presence. My father had to take care of me while going for his medical followups. He would put me over at a kind nanny’s house who she took care of me alongside with other kids. She passed away two years ago and that really affected me a lot. Here is the link of my blog entry when she passed away in 2015 - https://dayre.me/jenuinejen/9tMSI3OBdD . I am thankful for her to give me love when I was a burden kid. To me, my father and her were my everything and my mother was just someone else who visits on the weekend. She did try to love and be close to me when is back, but I just couldn’t do so then. 

My dad and I would occasionally visit her in Singapore. I remembered we wanted to save some money and beating the traffic, we would take the bus from KL - JB and then walk across the causeway to Woodlands Checkpoint. For a kid, it was pretty much a long distance but I remembered I was so happy with my dad holding one of my hands and me carrying my favourite mickey mouse plushie on the other. When we reached Woodlands Checkpoint, he would be in the taxi stand asking if anyone is going to the same direction, so we can share a cab together with some cost savings. I find him extremely smart and awesome. It was a ‘grabshare’ and ‘uberpool’ idea of more than 20 years ago! I remembered the three of us would squeeze in a masterbed room that my mum rented. It was indeed one of the very rare childhood moments I remembered and enjoy. 

After more than a whole year of such a routine, my parents decided that this should not be how a typical family should be and it was an issue because I wasn’t close to my mum at all. I remembered the only time I was happy around her was because she could bring me to the female toilet when we were out. 

Our whole family then decided to migrate to Singapore when I was 4, for a better life-changing conducive environment for me to grow up in, as well as to reunite the family. My capable mum then, has earned enough to rent a pretty good executive flat over at Bedok. That was the biggest change in my life, affecting me up till today. I didn’t understand completely the importance of a family reunion back then but I was surely happy seeing my dad happy and I actually started to love my mum again, with her presence. 

However, good times don’t last. My dad got extremely ill again and could not function enough to hold a job and take care of me at the same time, so my family had to hire a domestic maid to look after me. 

My first domestic maid, Kak Kak T was from Indonesia and she looked like a young demure, meek and sweet lady who was just trying to make a living in Singapore. Indeed, she was, initially. However, what she did next was unforgivable and has caused me lifelong trauma... 

My dad had to head to back to Australia for his medical treatments and my mum had to work. Hence, Kak Kak T held responsible to look after me. My mum gave her money everyday to buy food. Instead she would just get a cream bun everyday for lunch and pocket the rest of the money, causing me to be malnourished. And, this is the only the tip of the iceberg of the horrible things she do. 

She also prostituted herself and brought along the men to our home and occasionally, it would be vice versa where she would bring me to their homes. 

Of course, being a 5-year-old kid, how would I know the concept on whatever they are doing? I only knew it was hell of uncomfortable. All the customers were foreign bangala/indian workers. They would simply locked themselves in the room for hours. and leaving me out in the living room, bewildered with a cream bun and watching Sesame Street, wondering when will Kak Kak T be out to bring me out of this awkward situation. 

Sometimes, Kak Kak T would bring me to her “customers” place instead. As mentioned, they were all foreign workers(possibly bangala/indians), hence they all stayed at rented rooms in a flat. I vividly remember there was this one occasion, it was in a Malay household. As usual, I would have to sit outside and wait for her. I remembered I was watching Malay cartoons with a bunch of Malay kids who gave me dirty looks, wondering why am I even there. Back then, I was just hoping that Daddy would return home soon so I would not have to succumb to all these un-comfortableness. 

I did not know what they were doing were wrong so I did not voice out to my mum. But that’s the second time in my life that I felt an extreme sense of abandonment. 

I thought that was already the worse coming from her, but what happened next was unforgivable ; 

Before one of her sexual transactions at our place, she was in the kitchen doing work. That particular customer was exceptionally friendly to me. I cannot remember the exact things he said to me but the next thing I knew, he was putting his hands over my clothes and started to touch me all over, including my private areas. 

That was the first time I got sexually abused. 

After Kak Kak T came out of the kitchen and saw what was happening, she screamed “Hey, you don’t touch her!”. He was like “okay, okay” and then got really frustrated, dragging her to the bedroom, leaving me out in the living room again. To think about it now, maybe she does have some conscience in not wanting me to get hurt. 

If you ask me, how I was feeling at that point of time. Besides being extremely uncomfortable, I do not have the capacity or ability to know what was it and feel anything else, like trauma. Unfortunately, that only hit me when I was older when I exactly knew what was happening. 

My dad eventually came back from Australia and I was already so different with all these events subconsciously affecting me. He could see that I am no longer the happy and cheerful, and even emotionally torn in some ways. 

If you are still reading my post up till this point, you might be wondering what could potentially be worse to happen that year right? Yeah, the tragedies did not end... 

What happened next was the worse and I guess that was the trigger to my child depression - 

My grandfather passed away, and my father got into a bacteria attack from the funeral and had to be admitted to ICU. My mum had to pause her work to take care of him in the hospital every single day. And yes, with all of that happening concurrently, Kak Kak T is still prostituting herself, bringing me to the homes of her customers. 

The last straw of the event was when she had a dispute with one of them (yes, the very same one who sexually abused me) on one of the nights at his rental room. I am not exactly sure what happened, but Kak Kak T came out his room crying and trying to get me out of his apartment. On the other hand, he grabbed me from Kak Kak T and refused to let the both of us leave. It was as though like a tug of war and that was the first moment I actually bawled after the countless events, and I felt scared and helpless. Eventually, he did let Kak Kak T and I go. I am not exactly sure why he did but I am guessing we were already making a huge commotion and getting his neighours’ attention. 

Kak Kak T and I just kept crying like mad while on our way home. However, she did remembered to threaten me that if I were to tell my mother about it, she will never buy me cream buns again. 

However, upon reaching home, I had a complete meltdown and told my already-distraught mother, particularly on that night’s event as well as how she always brought me along to other men’s homes and how one of the men had touched me. 

I do not know how she was feeling at that point of time but I am guessing upset and overwhelmed. Probably, also helpless because she cannot fire her maid at the moment because her husband was in ICU. Much later, I also found out that Kak Kak T has attempted to seduce my father and managed to seduced the tenant who was also staying with us. 

What the actual fuck, how many more traumatising events does she require to taunt me my whole life? You really can’t blame me for losing faith in the world at such a young age. 

Shortly after, my dad passed away before I turned 6. September 11th, 1997 then became the saddest day of my life. Life was pretty much haywire for my mother and I. 

I guess Kak Kak T got the best out of all of us. my mum brought her to the clinic for checkup and she was pregnant. Luckily for her, she was pregnant with my tenant’s baby, who was a Singapore PR and my mother’s colleague. He was willingly to undertake the responsibility and married her.  Also, luckily for us, the doctor was kind and did not report us to the police because that would imply we would not able to hire a maid for the rest of our lives.

My mum then became really depressed and wanted to take me to jump of the building, so we can end our lives together. Of course, she didn’t do so because she was an extremely strong-willed woman who also underwent many other difficult occasions in her life. Sometimes, during my most depressive days, I really wished she did it at that point of time... 

After my dad’s passing, my mum numbed herself with an overwhelming load of work to get over the grief. I remembered calling her during work because I needed the comfort from my father’s death. However, she did not provide to me. Instead, she told me that I have to get over the fact that my father is never going to come back and I should start to get used to life without him. The feeling of hearing that from your mother is terrible because I felt that she was trying to push me away. 

I was already not close to her ever since young. Hence, the emotional neglect from her after my dad’s death, really broke my young heart. I really hated my mum. On the weekends, I would call her office and leave voice mails saying that she is stupid and I hate her. It really felt like I have lost both parents at one go. 

My mum did fulfill her financial responsibilities as a mum, and she made sure the second domestic maid she hired, did not starve me like how Kak Kak T did to me. However, I was really miserable about the fact she chose to avoid matters and letting me, a 6-year-old kid to deal with her emotions. 

If you are still reading this at this point of time, I thank you for your patience to read on, because my childhood tragedies have not ended. 

My second domestic maid, Kak Kak S, who is another horrible and vile person. Due to the influence of pregnant Kak Kak T, who always revisits my home and got acquainted with her, told her to prostitute herself so she could end up like the lucky her instead of being a maid her entire life. 

Similarly, like Kak Kak T, Kak Kak S started to prostitute herself to foreign Indian/Bangala workers. The only difference is that instead of bringing me to their homes or bringing me back, she would either abandon me alone at home or letting me stray in the playground with other “wild” kids. 

The older upper primary kids would always pick on me because they knew nobody would come and save me and I was as tall and almost as big than some of them. Also, they did not like me because I was very entrepreneurial. I would save up money and buy those big packages of individual snacks, selling the individual packets to either other kids or I will go door-to-door knocking making sales, after school where Kak Kak S would then head to somewhere else. 

One of a particular “gang” leader, an Indian Da-jie-Da, did not like me very much and always trying to “find trouble” with me. If you are thinking, how possibly evil could primary school kids be? Then, you are extremely wrong. Because some of them are too young to even understand what is considered extremes (probably also the fact they also have fucked-up childhood/upbringing), they are evil to the maximum. 

I remember she would get her minions who would round me up at the void deck and forced me to eat sweet plastic wrappers. Yes, I had ate some just to please her but eventually I spit and ran to the playground and took a handful of sand and threw at her and her minions. 

School bullying was also pretty bad. There was this one particular fatty named Yan De, who would use his pencil to stab me and make fun of me not having a dad. I was terribly afraid of him and always succumb to his bullying and taunting. Back then, I did try telling my busy mum that I was facing these countless issues at school. However, my mechanism to all these, was pretending to be sick and try to skip school as much as I can. Eventually, my mother found out and told me that I cannot run away from my problems. I took it as the fact that I have to be of a bigger bully than them. 

My mother did tried to help me by informing my form teacher who was supposed to help me in return. She simply just scolded Yan De and asked him not to do it again and that was pretty much it. Obviously, the bullying from Yan De persisted and got worse, where he would tear my books and steal my stuff instead of openly stabbing me with pencil. And I retaliated by kicking his vital part and boxing him on his stomach, making a point that I am not someone to be easily triffled with. On these various childhood bullying incidences, it has pretty much caused me my extreme defensiveness, even up till today. 

Thanks to these bullies, I was already an obnoxious ah-lian who engages in physical fights before I turned 7-year-old. I could have be a sweet-natured, demure girl that both my parents expected me to be. However, with these environmental factors, I guess I’d never be ... 

At that age, I wish these people who hurt me, would go to hell. However, I truly wish they are better people now so they would not go to hell. 

As mentioned earlier, Kak Kak S prostituted herself and would abandon me to somewhere when doing so. However, during the one month school holidays, I told her to not do so because I was already facing all these various taunting and I do not like the fact that she is treating me like dirt too. 

That was one of the stupidest child decision I have ever made because due to her bringing me along ... 

I was exposed to my second sexual abuse,

third sexual abuse, 

fourth sexual abuse,

fifth sexual abuse ... 

Well, I could go on, but you have probably gotten the point. 

I guess I could be defined as a prostitute in a way. These perpetrators do give me some kind of reward after touching me. Sometimes, it is a packet of chips and sometimes, it is a can of coke. The biggest gift I received, was a masak toy set. Yeap, I was probably the world’s cheapest prostitute. If you are wondering, I did not have sexual intercourse with any of them, probably I was too young or the fact is most of the time, we were at the obscure HDB areas like the stairs or void deck and etc. 

However, what they did to me and what they made me do, was pretty much enough to cause me trauma for my entire life. Not too much about the graphical sexual activities, but more on the fact that I got exposed with such despicable, low-life which made me convinced that there are more bad than good in the world. 

Though I was quite sure then, that exploiting myself in that manner is probably not right but I just could not be bothered. Because to me, these foreign men had more kindness than the bullies. They were actually “nice” and “wanted me”. Sad to say, I even felt that they cared more about me than my mum back then. What a fucked up, illogical child brain thinking. I wished I have more brain capacity to think through back then so I do not have this regretful story to tell today.  

Eventually, Kak Kak S got fired by my mother because she was a conniving liar who stole her money and valuables. My mum probably also know that she prostituted herself but I did not voice out anything, on my end. We also moved to a nice condominium. I did not had to face the HDB kid bullies anymore and my subsequent domestic maids did not prostituted themselves. 

Since my childhood days, I was pretty much convinced that I was fucked up, damaged, unloved and unworthy, I remembered wanting to grow up as quick as I can because obviously, I wasn’t growing up happily like a typical child should be. Sure, my basic needs like food, housing and clothing are met but my feelings as a child were never a priority to anyone. My friends were always telling me how they wish to relive their childhood days and how I wish I could relate to them... 

The subsequent growing up years were not easy, I definitely have more fucked up moments along the years, seeking validation, especially I have discovered online dating when I was 14 years old. 

I guess I’d leave those stories for now because the entry is getting extremely long and you have gotten the point that, I am extremely fucked up. If you have known me for a long time, I am pretty sure you have read my teenage blogs with angry and miserable entries. 

You know, I am not exactly sure why I am sharing my deepest darkest secrets that I never thought I will share with people I could count with more than one hand, let alone sharing in such an open platform. 

I guess I feel compelled to do so for many reasons - 

Maybe it is the fact that I watched ‘13 reasons why’ during my most depressive period and realised that I should get some closure from the similar painful occasion. I may not have killed myself like what Hannah did but it did make me felt I was unworthy and undeserving throughout the years. 

Maybe it is the fact that I am sick of victimizing myself and letting it affect my growing up phase and I just want a relief of letting go my darkest secret and not let it further affect me anymore. 

Maybe it is the fact that I want to use my painful experience to share some insight, and spread awareness and letting the same people who are undergoing the same struggles with me, It is not something shameful when someone exploits your young vulnerability and innocence. It’s the other party’s fault, not yours. 

Maybe it is the fact that it is a bit of everything. 

Chris Cornell and Chester Bennington’s death at this year, has taught me that mental health does not discriminate. It doesn’t matter whether you are millionaire kind of rich or famous. When it hits you, it hits you. 

For those, who are struggling like I do, please do not give up. It isn’t easy but you have to show that it is worth it. 

I simply hope this post would serve as an awareness post. 

As long more people could understand the severity and aspects of mental health, then I think it is worth it for me to reveal my vulnerabilities and secrets. 

Be kind and have empathy. You do not know what exactly goes through on someone’s head though he/she might look good and not fit into the “norms” of a a typical mental patient. 

Remember that even the heaviest snowstorm would eventually end, and the darkest night always produces the brightest star.

Stay blessed and healthy. 

Jen 

[ofdaisiesandanxieties]

st-st-stutter.

     Erin never thought of her speech disfluency as a negative thing. She simply thought of it as a part of her, something that made her who she was, a 'quirk', as her mother so often called it. She rarely paid any mind to it at all, considering that it had been happening for approximately five years.

     Jace was the first to point out Erin's stammer to her. She had been three years old and was just starting to speak in longer sentences, but to four year old Jace, they didn't quite sound normal...

     “Hey Rinnie, how come your words bounce when you talk?” He asked one day while they were out playing on their toy brooms.

     “D-dey b-b-bounce?” The little blonde stuttered as she hopped off her broom, a confused expression on her freckled face.

     “Kinda! You talk l-l-like th-th-this.” Jace attempted to copy his sister's speech patterns, hopping off his own broom and walking toward her. “How come?”

     “I-I-I 'unno?”

     At this point, Patricia had heard her children and decided to step in, setting down her gardening supplies before walking over to the two young Wagtails.

     “What are you too talking about, hmm?”

     “Mummy, how come Rinnie's words are bumpy?”

     “B-b-bumpy?”

     Patricia placed a finger to her chin as she thought of a way to explain her daughter's impediment to her son. “Well... you see, your sister just has a little quirk!”

     “A k-kwuck?”

     Patricia nodded, smiling at the two toddlers. “A quirk, yes. It means you’re special, dear.”

     “Do I have any quacks!?” Jace questioned excitedly, his eyes wide.

     “Quirks, dear. But of course!” their mother laughed, pulling her two children in for a hug. “You tell stories in your sleep – that's pretty quirky.” She planted a kiss on both of her kids' foreheads before continuing. “Your quirks make you who you are, loves. So don't ever let anyone make fun of you for them, alright?”

     “Yes, mama!” The two chorused, giving their mother a squeeze.

     “That's what I like to hear, darlings! Now, who wants to help mummy plant some flowers?”

     “I d-d-do!” Erin quickly proclaimed, skipping over to the garden hand-in-hand with her mother while Jace hopped back onto his toy broom to fly around some more.

     Nobody ever really talked about Erin's stammer after that day – not even Myron, which surprised Patty (though, he probably just didn't want to admit that his daughter was “flawed” in any way, and to him, acknowledging a stutter was doing just that.) Over the years, with a little bit of help from therapy, Erin was able to control her stammering in situations where she felt comfortable – it was easy for her to remember to slow down and choose her words if she was comfortable with whom she was talking to! Since she was rarely allowed to leave the house due to her famous father, there were hardly any situations in which she /did/ stutter. Controlling her speech had become second-nature for her, sometimes she even forgot that she had an impediment!

     It wasn't until she was about eight years old that her stuttering was once again brought to her attention.

     The Weird Sisters were on tour in the United States, and Patty and the children had traveled along, having never been before. Patty, Jace, and Erin were out exploring while Myron and the band set up for their show that night when the three stumbled upon a little park.

     “Mum, can we go play!? Please?” Jace begged, motioning to the playground that other children were climbing all over.

     Erin bit her lip – the only other child she'd ever really interacted with was her brother. She didn't have any friends her age, and had no idea how to play with anyone other than Jace. Not only that, but she loathed having to interact with people who weren't in her immediate family. The blonde looked up at her mother, the expression on her face displaying a silent protest to her brother's request.

     Patricia, however, thought the experience would be good for her children and, without seeing the expression on her distraught daughter's face, nodded her head as a smile spread across her lips. “That's a great idea, Jace! You and your sister go have some fun, okay? I'll sit here and read my book. But remember,” she dropped her voice down to a whisper, crouching to be at her children's heights, “those children are muggles, so you can't talk about magic, okay?”

     Jace nodded excitedly and grabbed his sister's hand, despite her attempts at pulling it away. “We won't, mum! C'mon, Rinnie, let's go play!” And with that, he ran toward the other children, practically dragging Erin behind him.

     “Who the hell are you two?” A boy who appeared to be a few years older than the siblings, perhaps about twelve or thirteen years old, stopped the two before they could get on the playground.

     “Hullo! My name's Jace, and this is my little sister, Erin! What's your name?” The blond boy greeted, a large grin on his face.

     “None of your business, stupid brat.” The older boy spat.

     Erin cringed and squeezed her brother's hand tightly as she shifted her position to try to hide herself behind him. “J-J-Jace, maybe we sh-sh-should go back to m-m-mum...”

     The adolescent raised an eyebrow at the tiny blonde, his scowl transitioning into a mean smirk. “What was that?”

     “Rinnie's just a bit shy, is all! She was saying tha-”

     “I wasn't asking /you/, I was asking /her/.”

     “I-I-I... I s-s-s-said th-”

     The boy cut her off with a loud laugh. “Spit it out, Freckles, I don't have all day!”

     “S-s-s-s-sorry, I-”

     “C-c-come on, k-k-kid!” The boy shouted, mocking her stammer.

     By this point, Erin's bottom lip had begun to quiver and tears had started to form in her eyes. “I-I-I...”

     “Leave her be!” Jace growled, any trace of the friendliness he'd displayed before gone. His eyes were narrowed and his free hand had clenched into a fist. “So her words bounce a little bit when she's nervous, what's the matter with that?”

     “She sounds like a total idiot, that's the matter!” The bully laughed loudly once again, doubling over and holding his sides. “Say some more stuff, Blondie, this is hil-OOF!”

     Without wasting another minute, Jace released his sister's hand and tackled the older boy to the ground. He sat on his stomach as he repeatedly punched the adolescent in the face. “I said leave her be, you bloody moron! Don't you EVER call my little sister an idiot!”

     “Get off me, you little bi- OW!!” A loud crack followed by a stream of blood flowing from the bully's nose informed Jace that his work was finished. “I think you broke my nose!”

     “Good.” Jace hissed, standing up and kicking the jerk in the side one last time before turning around. “C'mon, Erin, let's go back to mum. This park looks boring anyway.”

     Erin, who'd been frozen in shock throughout the whole ordeal, finally snapped back at her brother's words and nodded, watching as the boy who her brother had just beat tried to sit himself up. “Y-y-yeah, let's leave b-b-b-before he gets up...” She agreed, wiping at her eyes with one hand and grabbing her brother's hand with the other before walking back to their mother.

     “Done already? That wasn't very lo- JACE WAGTAIL, WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD!?” Patricia shrieked as she glanced up from her book to see her son's knuckles cracked and bleeding and her daughter in tears. “What in Merlin's name happened!?” She whispered as she dropped her book and ran to them, crouching down to their level again.

     “Some bully was making fun of Erin's quirk.” Jace stated, grimacing as his mother grabbed his injured hand. Erin nodded, looking at her mother before quickly turning her attention back to her brother.

     Patricia sighed. “That doesn't mean we fight, Jace. It's good that you wanted to protect your sister, but that's not how you should do it. You should have walked away, or came to me. You can get in big trouble for fighting!”

     “But he was being mean to Rinnie!”

     “I know, I know... let's just get out of here before they find out it was you who did it.” Patricia, much like her daughter, was not a fan of confrontation. Despite knowing that she should stick around and find the mother of the boy whom her son had beaten up, she couldn't bear to have to try to explain what had happened. So instead, she placed her jacket over her son, hiding his bloody clothes from sight, and began to head back toward the hotel they were staying in. When they at last returned to their room, she pulled out her wand and got to work on fixing up her son's injured hand.

     “I'm sorry, Jacey, mummy...” Erin apologized, watching them from her seat on the bed.

     “No, Rinnie, you don't need to be sorry! The only person who needs to be sorry is that moron from the park!” Jace declared, hopping off his seat after his mother had finished her work with his hand.

     “I think he feels plenty sorry, Jace,” Patricia insisted as she placed her wand back in her purse. “But next time, love, please, don't get into a fight.”

     “There won't be a next time, mum,” Jace stated as he sat down next to his sister, pulling her in for a hug. “I'm not ever going to let anyone make fun of Rinnie's bouncing again.”

     That wasn't exactly the case. Since she'd started attending Hogwarts, several students on several occasions had made fun of her stutter. Erin never told Jace when it happened, in fear that he'd fight them and end up getting expelled from the school. However, if anyone ever happened to mock or make fun of her stutter in front of Jace, well... let's just say they quickly learned not to do so again!