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wintersera · 9 months

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forever mine || alpha!karina x omega!reader

notes: AGAIN sorry for the delay anon but here’s the request!! fun fact i wrote this while listening to the super mario galaxy ost 😭

cw: OMEGAVERSE, alpha karina, omega reader (obvs), maybe rina is a little possessive, use of toys, biting, scratching, g!p rina, creampie, breeding kink

wc 2.2k

your alpha girlfriend was so sweet and caring, the best alpha you could ever wish for. unlike other alphas, she was never too aggressive with you, rather, she was too careful with you- biologically she should’ve been treating you like you were her toy for breeding, but i guess not. nonetheless she was still a great alpha girlfriend.

—

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK

first of september- the first ever day since you’ve forgotten to buy your heat suppressants since you started dating jimin. your stomach drops as your pheromones begin to waft around your workplace filled with pure blooded alphas.

shit shit shit i’m dead, oh i’m screwed what do i do? ohhh god what do i do?

it was sorta stupid. yeah- an undercover omega in a job filled to the brim with hardworking alphas. you were doing a great job of convincing everyone that you were just a simple beta. that’s how you landed your job in the first place, but now because of this one stupid mistake, you were bound to lose your job.

“guys…” head manager, a very big alpha man in your words, spoke up. his head tilting and nostrils flaring as he’s looking around the office, confusion on his sharp features “…are you smelling that?” with the attention drawn on your floral scent, you begin to panic as the other alphas begin sniffing around too.

ough,, how do you get outta this situation fast “i think i’ll head out early guys. whoever has their heat is driving me insane it might trigger my rut” how bad of a lie was that. it didn’t matter anyways, dashing out the room with your blazer and bag in, hand rummaging around your trouser pockets as soon as you make it out of the building.

“jesus christ jimin pick up please, please” walking, no- sprinting to the direction of your apartment. you knew your heat was gonna hit you badly. you’ve been taking suppressants for years so having a full blown pheromone disaster for the first time in years was going to be crazy. people were looking at you like you were crazy, but you’d rather have many people look at you weird than have your scent imprinted on the damn streets.

“what’s up?” thank the lord, she answered her phone just in time.

fumbling for your keys trying to shove it into the door lock, you sigh with a heavy breath “uh,, um jimin i’m going into heat- i already feel funny” unlocking the door, you fling yourself into the apartment, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

“what do you mean going into heat? did you not,,, oh well shit okay give me a few minutes” hanging up the call.

not so much to your surprise, slick was coating your cunt like crazy. to the point where it started to go through your trousers and down your legs. the need you had for your girlfriend was so unbearable.

in a haze, you wobbled to your shared bedroom and grabbed one of her used shirts. her clothes smelt so good, the lingering scent dripping from her clothes was enough to make you keel over and plop onto the bed. you felt yourself getting slicker, your needy cunt needing your alpha to come over and fuck you silly was growing stronger each second she wasn’t in the room with you.

taking matters into your own hands because you couldn’t wait any longer, the feeling of your heat coiling in your stomach was too much. your brain was giving into your biological urges and you needed to get off now or you’d suffer. grabbing a pile of jimin's clothes and making somewhat of a nest on the bed, you surround yourself with the scent of freshly ground coffee. quickly taking off every single piece of clothing, getting right back up to open the box of toys you kept just in case a moment like this ever happened- searching for anything, any toy, that could satisfy you while you wait for your alpha.

whereas jimin on the other hand was worried sick. throughout your two year relationship with her she’d never seen you in a proper heat. like yeah, the heat suppressants and scent blockers helped quite a lot so you were never heavily affected by the symptoms. of course omegas would usually never get this horrible desire to mate this early into their heat, but unfortunately for you, you did have this raging urge to mate so early.

you weren’t so very conscious, you were starting to feel groggy, a feverish high temperature when you touch your head began to appear. this heat was kicking you in the ass and you couldn’t take it anymore- taking the vibrator in your hands and placing it on the highest setting, your hands make there way all the way down to your throbbing clit “a-ah, hnnng jimin come quick…”

so so desperate for her, you pick up your phone hoping that she would answer your calls “please- please pick up jimin”

“i’m almost home baby, do you need something or…”

“just hurry up i’m begging you to come home pleaseee” and who was she to deny your request. stepping on the gas faster knowing that her precious little omega was in need of her alphas presence. she could here your desperation deep within your voice.

“don’t worry i’m about to park soon, just wait for me okay” jimin, knowing how she acted during your very suppressed heats, believed that she could never submit to her instincts since she has never done so when it came to you. that quickly changed as she opened the door, the scent of roses attacking her as she stepped inside. it was a thick scent, it stuck to everywhere and it didn't help that you couldn’t open the windows in time, now your walls were coated in this thick floral scent.

it took jimin a lot of willpower not to give into her urges right there. she felt her rut kicking in and it made her growl in discomfort. never feeling this way in a while, because she took rut suppressants since the two of you started dating, she started growing hazy much like you did. she was a pure blooded alpha which didn’t help either, the intensity of your heat did rounds on her and she had strongest urge to mark you up.

you could hear her footsteps grow louder and louder, her low growls could be heard with the door still shut. quite impressive. she didn’t even say anything when entering, taking off her work clothes only leaving just her boxers on, the line of her hard cock showing through made you whimper out loud. your slick was practically drooling out from your pussy.

in her eyes you were nothing more than a snack to be devoured. her red eyes peered down at you like you were some sort of prey, and you must admit that pure blooded alpha jimin was really arousing to watch. pheromones in the room were strong as hell, your thick sweet floral scent mixing with jimin’s freshly scented coffee smell made a delicious combination. the scent alone driving you two mad.

she went to sit on the bed, still peering at you meek little body. with hunter like eyes she stared you down and licked her lips, “sit up omega” obeying your alpha like the good little omega you are, you sit up from the nest of clothes.

she could hear little puffs of air pour out of your lips, stifling a chuckle as she watches you struggle to sit up straight and look at her straight in the eye. hooking you up with ease, jimin had your body pressed up against hers, sliding one of her hands in between your thighs opening them up with a strong grip “you look so needy for me” a second goes by and she’s shoving you back into the pillow.

“fuck” jimin whispered “how do you smell so good” nuzzling into the crook of your neck, “you smell so tempting, fuck, i can’t-“ she gave your thighs a firm squeeze, exhaling shakily “you need to take me right now, i can’t take it anymore. i need to feel your tight cunt around my cock” her voice low and coarse. in a flash she slipped her cock into your dripping heat, mewls threatening to escape your mouth.

if you weren’t too dazed and horny you would’ve been saying how you’ve waited for this exact moment. jimin didn’t spend anytime fucking around with foreplay, she went straight into pounding your slicked up hole with no mercy. everything she did set your body ablaze, her hands were touching every single inch on your body and it felt so fucking good.

like a ravenous animal she attacked your neck, licking, marking, biting your throat all whilst groaning. her animalistic mind wanting to show that you’re her omega and nobody else’s and by that she had to litter you with marks of any kind, purposely rubbing her scent to mark you as her omega.

every thrust made your back arch slightly off the bed, hitting all the spots you never knew could feel good because of how nice she usually fucked you. you felt how fast and precise her movement was, and it was heavenly.

as your back arched closer to hers, she shifted even more closer to you, practically pinning you onto the bed by hooking both of your legs above her broad shoulders. hitting even deeper then she previously did before, you felt the tip of her cock graze your cervix “mmfh, fuck, fuck- my baby feels so fucking good” saying all that while she’s harshly sinking her teeth into your shoulders.

“s’too much,, ah- jimin, g-good” her urges began to flare up, the only thing on her mind was to mark you up for good. like she was oh so desperate to keep you as hers.

pulling her cock out, in between breaths she instructs you “turn around. y/n turn over for me.. need to- need to fill you up“ taking your legs of her shoulders and flipping you over with ease, again with her predatory gaze, she stares right at your exposed ass in which tempted her to completely destroy you until you can’t stand anymore, leaving you in a state of vulnerability so that she can take care of you.

her alpha instincts were indeed controlling her every movement, the loving and caring alpha you knew was gone. all was left was a dominating alpha who wanted to fuck you till you were filled up with her cum, even if that means you’ll bear her pups.

returning back into your needy cunt, she moans even louder, louder than you’d ever heard. “omega- omega fuck, i’ll mark you. you’re mine, mine only. mine,,, shit you’re mine forever” relentlessly pushing your head into the pillows, her thrusts became frantic and desperate- her movement erratic and messy, it made you love her even more. her alpha side was making you wetter and wetter, bedsheets were covered with your slick.

your moans were insanely unholy. you were screaming and clawing onto whatever you could grab hold onto. her dick growing larger than before and that's when the both of you knew that she was about to knot into you. grabbing her arm for moral support, you dig your nails harshly into them leaving a few minor scars.

right now you looked so fucked out. you were crying, drooling everywhere all while you were screaming out her name. jimin took her time to place a generous amount of bites and hickeys all over your back too. you know… for extra measures of course.

“aah fuck, pleasepleaseplease alpha cum- cum in me” you sobbed out.

“bout to- gonna,, augh fuck cumming” one final harsh thrust into your cunt and her knot swelled as she spilled every ounce of cum into your hole. your cunt clamping down on her as well, essentially locking the two of you. whilst she knotted into you, she swiftly leaned to the back of your neck and inserted her teeth. it hurt a lot, the feeling of her sharp canines sent your nerves on fire, but only a second later and it felt almost orgasmic.

finally she had marked you, but now you were stuck like this for a while. her knot being large enough to just be stuck in this position. both of you were lowkey back into consciousness, the alpha side of her dying down a little bit and the subby omega side of you dissipating.

after a couple of minutes of basking in your orgasm, her knot went down eventually. it was just enough so that you could move slightly which inevitably caused her semen to seep out of your cunt.

“aaah~ can’t… believe.. i… marked.. you..” catching her breath through each word she managed to muster up “that means you’re mine.. forever, right?”

aww big dom alpha jimin was gone, but your cute puppy of a girlfriend was back. you turn around with her cock still in you and see her smiling right at you, her big puppy eyes beaming with glee.

“yeah.. forever”

#wintersera #omegaverse smut #aespa smut #g!p aespa #karina smut #aespa x reader smut #aespa karina smut #aespa x fem reader smut #g!p karina #yu jimin x reader smut #karina x fem reader smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #kpop girl group smut #fem!reader

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pastanest · 1 year

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Eleventh Doctor x she/her!reader

AN: this is an ANGSTY one which is usually not the vibe for me but I got lost in this idea and completely fell in love with it so I really hope you like it!! this is the ost piece I was listening to while writing -

Set Things Right

With a sigh, the Doctor rubs his face with his hands, then places his palms flat against the console of the Tardis. She wheezes halfheartedly, seeming to wince in pain.

“Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong?” The Time Lord pleads with her, desperate for any sign, any handy hint on what he can possibly do to help her.

The two of them have been drifting aimlessly through deep space for a time that even a lord of such a thing has been unable to truly focus on. Hours, days, weeks - he doesn’t know, all of it has been lost to the worry over his oldest and truest companion. The one piece of home he has left.

Closing his eyes tightly in a pained blink, the Doctor takes a deep breath in an attempt to tune himself into the Tardis further, to understand her, just enough to help. In focussing as hard as he possibly can, his subconscious grabs at the first sound it finds, no more than an unidentifiable flicker, but the Doctor hones his thoughts to the spark that the Tardis has sent him, whatever it may be. The very moment the sound becomes clear to him, though, the Doctor flinches away from the console, feeling a physical tear through his hearts and rubbing against his shirt to soothe the ache that resides there. Has resided there, and been ignored for another time that he dares not address.

“Don’t. Just…don’t, please. She’s….” The Doctor shakes his head, refusing to say the words as he falls against the railing, gripping it with one hand at his back while the other still holds his chest, as though shielding his hearts from another fatal blow. “She can’t help us, not anymore.”

And he feels it, the judgemental gaze of the Tardis on him at every angle, even in her weakened state. Loosening his bowtie to escape some of the pressure, the Doctor speeds from the control room, past a door that he knows was not previously so close to the main control room but he will not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging it, past the swimming pool, and towards the library. There must be something in here, he thinks to himself, haphazardly throwing books from the shelves on which they previously sat and creating a disheveled pile in the center of the room behind him, hoping one of them may contain the secret to healing his sickly time machine.

Quite suddenly, the Tardis jolts to the right, sending the Doctor falling into the pile of books he had unintentionally used to form his own landing pad. Jumping back to his feet with a firm frown on his face, the Doctor straightens his shirt and huffs.

“Now, I know you aren’t very well, but there is no need-”

Interrupting him, the Tardis throws him back to the ground with another fierce jolt, and then she bursts to life in what the Doctor can only describe as a fit of rage. She is taking flight, furiously, to a destination of her own choosing, with no regard for the Time Lord that is crawling his way back to the main control room through corridors that she turns on their heads, walls that she shrinks and enlarges, floors that she shakes and cracks with the sheer force of her determination.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The Doctor shouts into the main control room, over her screeches, as glass panels splinter at his feet.

Flinging himself at the console, he grabs the monitor with both hands and tries to read the Gallifreyan text, the co-ordinates, anything, but she is flying too fast for his eyes to keep up with her train of thought as it blazes across the screen.

And with a final, deafening crash that sends the Doctor hurtling into the railing, the Tardis halts to a sudden stop. She wheezes again, but this time it almost sounds…relieved? As though wherever she has landed, it has brought her a sense of peace. This place can heal her wounds, the Doctor recognises her feelings towards it, and his ever curious mind is buzzing with excitement at the thought of such an incredible, new place.

“Oh, where have you brought me this time, old girl?” Having already forgiven her for the bumpy ride, the ancient god is giddy, rubbing his hands together and retying his bowtie, grabbing his tweed jacket as he races for the door.

He braces himself as he reaches for the wooden panel, hand trembling with excitement. With a deep breath, the Doctor pushes open the door and steps out into the brand new world. Except it isn’t, and it is.

The street is one he would recognise even if he had never set foot there, because he knows this planet almost as well as he had known his own. Earth, the planet to have given him the greatest friends and adventures he’d ever known. But this street is not one he has never set foot on. The Doctor is a man who cannot look back because he dares not, there are many streets on this planet that he avoids for fear of the pain he would revisit on seeing them again, in the absence of those he once knew occupied them. And this street is no different, except in that it is the most recent of the streets he never wanted to see again, and in the way that he has been forced to do exactly that. He wants to run and hide, more than anything, but he is frozen to the spot, because something isn’t right. The air tastes different, the gravity feels slightly askew, and he can’t tell what year it is amidst the emotional tidal wave of it all. As fundamentally wrong as all of those aspects are, the Doctor cannot deny that they point to one possibility amongst a million others, but that one - regardless of the agony - he cannot live with the regret of denying.

And then he hears it again. The same sound he had heard when inside the Tardis, the sound she had told him would help her, and now again, in the place she has taken him to heal her. Time seems to slow as the Doctor turns to his left, his eyes immediately locking onto and blurring a perfect vision he never thought he would see again. You.

Laughing so hard you are throwing your head back, eyes crinkled and tears spilling at their creases, your mobile phone to your ear only mildly distorting the view of you. Completely oblivious to the big, sad eyes that watch over you, a trembling smile of pure anguish choking out a disbelieving laugh with you, though he has no idea what you are laughing at.

Clutching at his chest and feeling the world around him beginning to spin, the Time Lord stumbles back through the doors of his time machine and falls to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden panels in an effort to lock himself away.

For the briefest second, all he feels is pain. Wound after wound tearing through his very being, bleeding him dry and crushing him into dust. And then that second ends, and the oncoming storm rises to his feet, a darkened frown etched into his brow.

“Why.” He mutters, approaching the console. “Why. WHY!” He throws his arms in the air and slams them against either side of the monitor, watching as you disappear down the street and then shoving the monitor away from him. “WHY would you bring me here?! What kind of cruel trick is this?! How DARE you! How…could you? How could you take me back to a time when she was…when you know that I can’t…”

The Doctor trails off, defeated, and collapses onto the jump seat with his head in his hands.

Sensing his anguish, the Tardis groans at him, exasperated by the way in which he continues to miss the obvious. Sending the monitor flying back over to the side of the console that the Doctor is facing, the Tardis displays the exact time and date beyond her doors and waits. It takes the solemn, lonely man several seconds to lift his sorrowful gaze from his hands and read the Gallifreyan text she has written for him.

He blinks, and blinks again. Then stands, closing the distance between himself and the monitor.

“But, this can’t be right, that means…” The cogs begin to turn inside the mind of a genius, knowing for a reason he cannot come to terms with that he could not have possibly seen you on this date, in this time.

And as the realization hits him, his eyes widen, the Tardis seeming to screech in pure glee as her masterful plan is revealed to him.

“You…” He whispers in disbelief. “You punctured a hole in the fabric of the universe…to bring us to a parallel world, where…”

A soft knock at the door interrupts his bewildered and undecidedly disapproving train of thought. Leaning around the console, he frowns in confusion and, in a daze, strolls over to the door. Opening it just enough to show himself and not the bigger-on-the-inside majesty of his time machine, the Doctor unintentionally finds himself very nearly nose to nose, with you.

Jumping back in surprise, you chuckle. “Oh, hello! Blimey, talk about up close and personal!”

And the Doctor cannot say a word. In all his hundreds of years, you are the one thing to render him completely and utterly speechless.

“Anyway, sorry to disturb you and your…policey business? I’m guessing this is a new thing or I just never noticed this blue box on the corner of my street, but, is this somewhere that I can raise concerns?” You ask him, staring up at him with the most clueless and curious expression. The pain caused by the lack of recognition in your eyes is nothing compared to the bliss of seeing the life within them.

Without a word, the Doctor nods.

“Oh, perfect! There’s this guy that’s been following me home from work in the evenings and it’s really starting to freak me out. I’m not sure if I just report it to you and you keep an eye out, since he hasn’t done anything and the law for creeps is lenient at the best of times, but if you’re stationed here I just wanted to give you a heads up, I guess.” You glance to either side, as though fearful the man you are reporting could overhear, but then your eyes meet the Doctor’s again and you smile so kindly. “Anyway, that was all. Hope you have a good night and don’t get too cramped in there! See ya!”

And, like what you’ve done hasn’t just altered the course of history, you spin on your heel and walk away without a care in the world.

The Doctor closes the Tardis doors again and turns to face the console.

“We can’t be here. She doesn’t recognise me, this version of her has never met me- well, she has now, I suppose, and that is entirely your fault! But she doesn’t know me, she’s lived the days on this planet that another version of her spent traveling through time and space with me, she has stayed safe here and I cannot do anything to jeopardize that, not again, so we have to-” He stops himself, mid-ramble and mid-walk to the center console.

“Except…the other version of her, the version that we knew, she mentioned a man that followed her home, just once.” His blood runs cold. “She said that had we not met when we did, she feared what he would have ended up doing to her, and in this timeline…” The Doctor’s fists clench at his sides as the reality of the situation dawns on him. “You have given me an impossible choice. To choose between the very fabric of the universe, and saving her just one more time.” He straightens his bowtie and heads for the door, casting a flirtatious smirk over his shoulder.

“And you knew exactly what I would choose, you sexy thing.”

The next morning, you all but stumble into your office in a half-asleep state, having stayed awake far too late the previous night watching youtube videos about conspiracy theories to distract yourself from the curious, bowtie-wearing policeman you had met. Falling into the spinny chair behind your desk, you open your laptop and start tapping away to log yourself in for the day, tuning out the background noise of your coworkers doing the same.

“Ahh, (Y/N)!” Your manager’s voice makes you jump, your life flashing before your suddenly wide eyes as you sit up straight and turn to face him.

“I wanted to introduce you to John Smith, he’s a detective in the area that’s been assigned to watch over this part of town due to some unsightly folks being reported on the streets!” He grimaces at the thought, but you hardly notice, your eyes having already gravitated towards the tall, slim man with the dopey smile on his face as he watches the tiniest spark of recognition ignite in your eyes.

Standing from your chair, you hold a hand out to him. “We’ve met, actually, but I didn’t think it’d amount to this! Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.”

If possible, the warm smile on his face brightens to challenge even the sun outside. “Duty calls! Pleasure’s all mine, but please, call me the Doctor.” He pretends to very dramatically whisper “It’s my code name.”

Unable to stop yourself, you giggle and shake your head at his antics, making the young man with ancient eyes beam.

“I’ll be surveying the area today, but this evening I wondered if you could take me on your route home, so that I can evaluate any…unsightly folks.” He says, referencing your report the day before and your manager’s choice of words.

You nod at him, smiling gratefully. “That’d be wonderful, thanks…Doctor.”

And oh, how his hearts both skip a beat at hearing you say that.

For the rest of the day, you sit at your laptop and work away, while occasionally casting glances out of the window and at the carpark below, where the curious bowtie-wearing Doctor-policeman “surveys the area”. Now, you don’t pride yourself on being knowledgeable about police work, but you are quite confident that it doesn’t usually entail climbing trees simply to sit in them or getting bored enough to begin peeping in people’s parked cars and accidentally setting several car alarms off. All the same, every glance from the window leaves you with a smile that you truly struggle to wipe from your face, even in the wake of your desk job.

At the end of your working day, you practically skip out of your office in search of the sweet fool that has offered to walk you home. You find him waiting beneath a streetlamp, surrounded by its golden glow, casting a halo over him that you can’t help to find somewhat metaphorical.

“Evening Doctor, had a good day?” You tease, knowing as well as he does that you have seen the majority of his antics.

“Good evening! I did have quite a good day, yes, did get a bit dull towards the middle, but as long as it helps keep the community safe, I will do it! How was your day?” He kindly returns your question, the two of you subconsciously starting to walk in step with each other.

“It was alright, bit dull, like you say, but we got through it!” You change the subject. “Before I entrust you with my route home, do you have a badge to prove your position, detective?”

Something twinkles in his eye at your sensibility, your desire to protect yourself, and the opportunity for him to show off one of his favorite party tricks. “Ah, of course! Here.”

Digging into his tweed jacket, he retrieves a leather bound wallet and opens it out to you. The second you have digested the words on the small piece of paper within it, you are laughing so hard you are throwing your head back.

The Doctor, in a state of pure confusion, rapidly looks between you and the psychic paper. “What? What does it say?!”

Wiping your eyes, you try to calm yourself down. “It’s safe to say your flirting is much appreciated after a long day, Doctor.”

With wide eyes, the Time Lord reads over the piece of psychic paper that has never been more accurately named than when it answered your question of his professional title with a few, simple words.

The love of your life.

And the Doctor has never flushed a more violent shade of red in all his years. With a disgruntled cough, he shoves the wallet back in his jacket.

“I am so sorry, that was not at all appropriate, please forgive-”

Nudging him playfully, you cut him off. “Nothing to forgive! As I said, I appreciated it. I know a creep when I see one, as proven, so I can tell when someone isn’t one. Translation: you can flirt with me as much as you like, pretty boy.”

He expects your flirting to fluster him even more, having not heard it in some time, but the sentiment is so familiar and by extension, comforting to him, the Doctor finds himself relaxing into your presence again, like nothing has changed.

“Pretty boy?” He chuckles.

You shrug. “Yeah, I’d definitely say you’re pretty. I suppose I’d have to, if you’re the love of my life.”

Playing along, the Doctor smiles at you, perhaps a little too adoringly. “Well, yes, it would be quite a shame if one of those statements were false.”

“Either one, in fact.” You give him a cheeky grin, the two of you sharing a comfortable laugh as you pass beneath another streetlight along your walk home that you have memorized so completely, you have all the time in the world to memorize an entirely new part of it.

By the time the Doctor walks you to your front door that evening, both of your faces ache from smiling as much as you have.

“I regret to inform, I didn’t look behind us to see if we were being followed at any point.” You say, feigning disappointment in yourself that the Time Lord very quickly catches onto.

“Ah, well, in that case, I regret to inform the same- and it’s my job! I am rubbish at this.”

His response brings another warm laugh from you. “I wouldn’t say you’re rubbish, but I think it is only fair we reconvene tomorrow evening and ensure we do keep our wits about us. What do you think?”

And the Doctor is grinning at you like you’re a tree with silver leaves, standing tall in deep red grass, beneath twin suns. A piece of home he truly never thought he would find again.

“I think I owe it to you, after my poor show today.”

With that, you’re smiling right back at him. “Wonderful! See you tomorrow then, Doctor.”

He raises his hand without really thinking about it and gives a very awkward wave, considering how close the two of you are standing, but it seems you are already accustomed to his clumsy social skills and have found the charm in them that speaks to your heart in the same way it does across every version of you. Sharing one final laugh, the two of you part ways, the Doctor beginning to retrace his steps from your house to his Tardis.

When casting one last look over his shoulder, he sees you still standing in your half-open doorway, watching after him with a lingering smile that is so beautifully familiar to him. With a more socially acceptable distance now between you, he waves again, and you wave back, stepping into your house and closing your door behind you. And with a spring in his step that was previously long forgotten, the Doctor returns to his time machine.

She is in wonderful spirits, of course, seeing her Time Lord return with such a dopey smile plastered between rosey cheeks as he recounts the day he’s had, everything you said, everything you did. The Tardis makes what can only be described as mechanical noises of approval with every new piece of information about you.

Knowing he can’t risk trying to time travel to the next morning when already breaking the rules by being in this parallel world to begin with, the Doctor decides to spend the rest of the evening and night tidying up. Something he doesn’t often do, as the Tardis will usually default to clean settings whenever he leaves a room in a mess, but she watches endearingly as he tidies away the books he’d thrown into to the library floor, polishes the railings of the main control room, and strangely, tidies away the fairy lights that you had wrapped around the bannister what feels like a lifetime ago, because you had insisted the Tardis could use a little more ‘dolling up’, as you put it. A classy girl, you had called her. No wonder she is still so fond of you.

But the Doctor had been unable to merely focus his gaze on the little glowing orbs that decorated the main control room, ever since you had last set foot in there. The reminder of your physical presence and the agony of the absence that followed was too much for him to confront, and yet here he is, wrapping them up and tidying them away like Christmas decorations that have been left up just a little too long. It is curious, the Tardis thinks. Does this mean he is ready to start processing his grief? Is he simply on an emotional high from seeing you again, to the point where he can touch the tangible reminders of you that were previously forbidden to trembling hands? Or, does he wish for you to set foot in here again and make the request for fairy lights that he will already have waiting for you? The Tardis does not know, but she knows very well what she hopes to be the truth.

The next morning, the Doctor actually decides to go on a stroll to the local shops. He had visited them only a handful of times with you before and often found them to be incredibly boring, which they once again proved themselves to be when he arrived at 5am to find none of them were open yet. Naturally, he spun around the carpark in shopping trolleys until the doors opened hours later.

At work, you sit at your desk tapping your shoes against the carpet beneath it impatiently, glancing out of the window every few seconds with a frown that you truly cannot believe is there. Are you really this disturbed by the lack of presence of a man you have known no more than 48 hours?

But when he hobbles into the carpark, very awkwardly carrying a foldable ping-pong set, you struggle to contain the howling laughter that brings tears to your eyes. You watch in absolute wonder as the strange man sets the table up against a tree he had climbed the previous day, in perfect view of the window by your desk, and then turns to wave at you, ping-pong paddle in hand and a goofy grin on his face as he points at it and the table, in case you hadn’t noticed it. Waving back and miming that yes, you acknowledge the ping-pong table he has brought with him, you shake your head in disbelief and finally allow yourself to focus on your work. Meanwhile, in the distance there is the occasional, disdainful yell of a Time Lord playing ping-pong against a tree and losing.

That evening, the Doctor is once again waiting for you under the same streetlamp, illuminated by the same angelic glow as the evening before, and you can’t help feeling that each time you see him standing under it, that becomes more and more fitting.

“Evening Doctor, what’s the final score?” You ask, gesturing to the ping-pong table that he has left in the carpark.

Scoffing and pouting dramatically, the Doctor replies. “I don’t want to talk about it, but good evening.”

In an instant, the two of you are chuckling again, like old friends that have known each other far longer than you two have. Or rather, far longer than you have known him. The walk to your home continues in much the same way as it did the previous day, except the Doctor is more aware of your surroundings this time.

“So, I said to her, y’know, that’s totally unreasonable, and then she-”

The Doctor interrupts you by gently tapping your hand with his own as they swing between you.

“I don’t want to alarm you, but we are being followed. Carry on as you were, I’ll keep watch.” He whispers, your arm immediately going rigid with fear beside him, but nodding along with his reassurances. “You are completely safe. I won’t let anything harm you.”

Clearing your throat, you continue. “Sorry, just remembered I forgot to save a file at work and made a mental note to sort that tomorrow. Anyway, as I was saying-”

Listening dutifully to your stories, as he always has, the Doctor only occasionally casts sideways glances to the opposite side of the street, where a shadowed figure is walking ever so slightly behind the two of you.

Once safely at your door, the two of you share a small smile, but your nervousness is obvious.

“Please, dont worry. After tonight, you won’t ever have to feel this way again. I will deal with him.” The Doctor tells you, voice soft but words firm in their meaning.

And you don’t know why, but you trust him completely. “Thank you. Goodnight, Doctor.”

With that, he gives you a warm smile, one that you will hold onto for the rest of the night. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

He waits until you have stepped inside your home, closed and locked the front door, before he takes his leave. There is no skip in his step this time, his shoes thud against the concrete road with a determination and fury like no other.

Walking over to his Tardis, the Doctor rests his back against the doors and crosses his arms.

“I know you’re hiding over there, I know you like to follow her. Just tell me why.” He speaks into the street that appears empty, but in his peripheral vision, he can see the same hooded shadow that had been following you earlier, hiding around the corner of someone else’s house.

For a moment, the stalker says nothing and the Doctor is tempted to speak again, but then a voice greets him from the dark.

“None of your business.”

The Doctor laughs coldly. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. By choosing to subject her to the fear that you have, you have made this my business. So, I’ll ask again, just once: why?”

The hooded figure considers the words and the obvious confidence of the bowtie-wearing man that leans against a police box. Based on this, he evidently tries to choose his words carefully, but not carefully enough.

“I like the way she walks faster when she sees me behind her.”

The Doctor’s blood boils in his veins. “You like to scare her?”

When no voice replies to correct him, the Time Lord stands up from leaning against the Tardis and walks over to the monster of a man that thinks himself hidden.

“Does it make you feel powerful, scaring her? Like you’re making some impact on the world?” The Doctor seethes. “Let me make myself very clear: she is one world that will forever be out of your reach, both in who she is and the fact I will make sure of it. She is under my protection, do you want to know what that means?”

Without giving the monster time to answer, the Doctor grabs him by a tuft of his hair and slams his forehead into his, sending him a shockwave compilation of the Time Lord’s most formidable and incredible moments. The paper man crumbles to the floor, a shaking mess, and the Doctor stands tall over him.

“If I ever see your face again, it will be your last day on this planet.” The Doctor threatens, voice eerily soft given the weight of his words.

Nodding frantically, the stalker scrambles to his feet and sprints as fast as he can away from the ancient god.

Rubbing his face tiredly, the Doctor returns to his time machine and collapses on the jump seat.

“He won't bother her again, she’s safe now.” He tells his oldest companion.

She whirrs pleasantly at him, grateful for him having saved you, but reiterating a question that already nags at his mind.

“After seeing my list of atrocities, it’s highly likely he’ll ever come back. We should…” He trails off, exhausted by the task of sharing his own history with another mind in such a way. Sighing deeply, he sits back in the chair. “But highly likely still isn’t definite. I should probably stay, just one more day, to be certain.”

And the next day, after another wonderful walk home with you, the Time Lord comes skipping through the Tardis doors with another beaming grin.

“Well, there’s no way he would come back the day after I threatened to remove him from the planet, and I can't leave her so suddenly without an explanation! I owe her that, at least.”

But he is only justifying the continuation down this path to himself, the Tardis holds no opposition to what would usually cause her and the fabric of reality a great deal of stress.

Before he knows it, the Doctor has done the impossible: he has lived a normal week in normal human time. He knows that without you, he never could have done such a thing. To be honest, even if he had been with you as he was before, he would have struggled with this. Having lost you and lived without you in the way that he has, he has never wished more for the most mundane parts of a life with you. All the time spent running with you at his side, facing varying degrees of danger head on, running on adrenaline and saving planet after planet - it was only when he lost you that he realized in doing all of that, he barely had the time to just walk with you. Talk about your day, the weather, your friends, the gossip about town, the slow passing of an evening instead of cramming a month’s worth of adventures into a week of traveling and then dropping you back into your normal life on the same day you’d left it. How you adjusted to both, how you effectively gave up on the life you had here, the one he has now been blessed enough to live with you, he will never know.

And on the last night of the working week, when the two of you share a look that acknowledges the fact you won’t see each other again until Monday, and you invite him into your home for a cup of tea, the Doctor feels a piece of his hearts slot back into place.

Stepping into your home, without the souvenirs and paintings from your travels with the Doctor filling every empty space, only seeing pieces of you everywhere, your ornaments and trinkets and chosen wall art - all of it sings your name to him like a prayer. It is strange, to step into someone’s home for the first time and feel a sense of nostalgia. Something feels wrong, still, but the Time Lord allows himself to be blinded by everything that feels right, the constant comfort that he feels in your presence, the peace you bring his ancient mind. Just once, he feels he is allowed to ignore the nagging in his brain. The universe can let him have this, just for a little while longer.

Having made the Doctor the best cup of tea he has ever had - simply because it is you that has made it - you inform him it is against your code of conduct to stay in your work clothes once you have returned home, and rapidly ascend the stairs, leaving the Time Lord sitting in your living room in a lovesick daze. And when you re-enter the room in the coziest looking pajamas he has ever seen, the Doctor is absolutely certain that the look in his eyes tells you loud and clear, he would do anything for you.

Flopping down on the sofa beside him, you kick your feet up on the plush footstool ahead of you. “So, Friday night, what are we saying - takeaway and a film?”

You could have asked him to marry you and the question would have sounded just as heavenly. The Doctor nods frantically, grinning after you as you briefly exit the room again and return with a box full of paper menus for various takeaway places, asking him to pick while you choose a film that you say he has to see at least once in his life. He pretends to deliberate, his eyes fixed on you as you dig through your stacks of DVD’s, but he knows that he’s going to choose your favorite takeaway and you’re going to put on your favorite film, which he has watched with you a number of times before, but cannot wait to watch again for the first time.

In the post-takeaway bloat, the Doctor has discarded his tweed jacket and bowtie, and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, while you have simply shifted your position to be snuggled into his side with your head against his chest. The two of you are snuggled under a fluffy blanket, watching your favorite movie in silence, save for your choice commentary over your favorite scenes. With your ear pressed against his chest, the Doctor wonders how you haven’t made a point of his irregular sounding heartbeats. While you have acknowledged it in your own head, something about it feels normal to you, preventing you from having any kind of reaction beyond being comforted by its sound.

And never before has the Time Lord wished to be stuck in a time loop more. If the only way he could live this day, everyday, for the rest of time, would be to play it out over and over again, he would never complain about a thing. If his moral compass had a gray area that was just a little larger, he could let his Tardis being here cause a fracture in the fabric of reality with any number of consequences, if it meant he could stay here with you. But above all else, the Doctor wishes he could have a silly little job to complain about, that everyday he could come home to your little house, cook and eat dinner with you at your dining table, laugh about the days you’ve had and yours plans for the next ones, then snuggle up on the sofa in your pajamas to watch your favorite shows until you were tired enough to go to sleep. And every night, he would carry you up to bed, looking down at your sleeping face and planning each and every night how he’d ask you to marry him someday soon.

It isn’t until you feel a droplet against your head and sit up to face him that the Doctor realizes he desires that life so strongly it has reduced him to tears.

“Doctor? What’s wrong?!”

The care in your voice, the way he can tell you already feel for him, the bond you have automatically slipped back into without even trying. He has made an imprint on your life again, he couldn’t help it. He was here to save you just one more time, to set things right so that he and his time machine could grieve and carry on, that was his purpose here, but he has gone too far. There is no logical way that he can leave unnoticed and in any which way he left you now, he would hurt you. While it would only be a fraction of the agony he has lived in without you, he cannot bring himself to hurt you in any capacity, not again.

“I have to show you something.” The Doctor tells you, standing up from the sofa and taking your hand, grabbing his jacket with the other and leading you to your front door.

It is silent as you step into a pair of slippers big enough to fit your fluffy socks in, staring up at the Doctor in confusion and concern, and it is silent as the two of you walk the short distance between your house and his police box.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor pushes open the door and gently tugs you inside. Your legs falter behind him and he turns to face you, seeing an exact replay of the shock and wonder in your eyes as he did on the first occasion he brought you here. But there isn’t time, not anymore.

“Not a policeman, a time traveller. This is my ship, it’s bigger on the inside.” With your hand still in his, the ancient god rushes through the necessary clarifications as he leads you through the main control room, down a flight of stairs, and to the door that he previously couldn’t bear looking at, that the Tardis had moved closer to the main control room than it had ever been before.

The Doctor’s other hand is shaking as he reaches for the handle, but he cannot delay this any longer. He has gone too far.

Turning the handle dowards, he pushes the door open, the gesture weak but taking everything from him, his arm falling limp at his side. The room glows at your arrival, the Tardis sensing your return and greeting you in a warm smile. And despite the overwhelming strangeness of it all, you manage a small smile back at her.

The Doctor feels your hand slip away from his as you cautiously step into the room, while he feels an invisible barrier denying him entry. After everything, he does not deserve the right to stand in there with you.

“This universe is not the only one.” He begins, voice light as he focuses on telling you a story, providing an explanation of what came first, forcing himself to forget what came after until he has no choice but to tell you that, too. “There is an ever expanding number of galaxies and worlds out there in this universe and others, and time is like…a cabinet, with folders pressed together that are so similar, only those who know them well enough could tear them apart. Parallel worlds.”

His eyes are fixed to you as you seem to glide around the room, gaze lingering on every trinket you see, until you reach the fireplace to the left of the door. It bursts to life at your presence, flames roaring and firewood crackling, warming your slippers, but you neglect to notice that, otherwise entranced by the photographs that decorate the mantelpiece. Frame after frame, all different sizes, some photographs not framed yet, but placed there still, waiting to be stood with pride amongst the rest. Your own face, and the Doctor’s, smiling back at you in each and every one, with backgrounds of countless different places.

“I was lucky enough to meet you in a world parallel to this one. We…traveled together.” He takes a deep breath, watching you pick up some of the photographs to examine them closer, a confused frown on your face as you stare at them with such intensity. “There are planets safe in the sky, stars that sing songs of that version of you for saving them, even just for visiting them. That version of you was like…a sun, to many a planet, spreading an infectious joy wherever you went…to none more than me.” With a sad smile, his gaze drops to the floor, the line of your doorway that he cannot cross. “I took you from the planet that created you, the stardust from which you were born, and because of me, that world is now without you.” All light drains from the Doctor’s voice then, the weight of his crimes crushing the flicker of his spirit that only you could bring back. “What should have been an easy pit stop on an asteroid became the worst day in existence. It was your birthday- not that you remembered, you hadn’t been living earth days for some time, but you had mentioned how much you enjoyed celebrating and I couldn’t strip you of that human right along with everything else.” As kind as his gesture had been at the time, on reflection it is morbid, cynical and cruel. Everything he did that led you there had grown sour in the absence of you. “I took you to the largest asteroid belt in history, so that we could have a picnic there and you could take another photograph for your collection. But when we arrived…” The Time Lord swallows the lump in his throat, remembering every agonizing second as though it was happening all over again. “Colonizers, that was what they called themselves. A disorganized group of criminals; a broken cyberman and discharged jadoon, among them. They had stolen a vortex tunnel, which in itself was a terrible crime- they thought they could control one but not even Time Lords managed to master them. My history and their anger towards me for it was waiting outside the Tardis doors but because it had been clear when I’d set the picnic up, I didn’t think to scan the perimeter again. I sent you out there first to surprise you, and they-” Trembling fists clench at his sides, closing his eyes in a pained blink before opening them to a grave frown. “They’d already grabbed you and before I could say anything, they’d thrown you inside.”

Having already placed the photographs back on the mantelpiece, you watch the wonder of a man you’ve come to know crumble with shame.

“What does a vortex tunnel do?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper so as to not upset him further by verbalizing such painful memories for him too loudly.

“Vortex tunnels are a risky means of escape. They pluck you from where you’re standing and send you hurtling across space and time with no definite destination. They could send someone to random coordinates, floating in space, to certain death- there is no way to predict them.” The Doctor answers, keeping his words factual and objective to regain some composure.

“Why would anyone want to use one?” You question gently.

“Desperation. Based on their unpredictability, they are illegal and kept in stasis, but there have been cases of criminals that use them to avoid trial and execution.” He replies.

“Couldn’t outer space police track them down, or something?” You aren’t quite sure you understand the full extent of the events, feeling that certain aspects are missing and it is down to you to piece together what you can while trying to save the Doctor from reliving such pain.

“Vortex tunnels don’t just send you across time and space, they erase your mind entirely. In the highly unlikely case of someone being tracked to where the tunnel had spat them out, they have no memory of their crimes, so cannot be charged for them. The creature that they were, all but ceases to be.” His voice is light again, fragile this time at the thought of the person he had known being erased from existence and left stranded. “There was no way for me to trace you, not even with a psychic link in the Tardis, because the psychic link with you was gone, your mind as we knew it, was gone. The Colonizers jumped into it afterwards, of course, to escape me.” The Doctor rubs his face with his hands, then places a palm against the doorframe. “She’s the reason I’m here. She mourned you so deeply that she ripped a hole in the fabric of reality to bring me to a parallel world, just to save you one last time, to make our last memory something better.” His hand falls to his side. “But I went too far, again. I stayed too long, made too much of an impression on this version of you, your life here. Now, leaving will hurt you, but I can’t take you with me. Not only do I refuse to take you away from the world, the family that is yours a second time, but I cannot replace her. As similar as you are, you are not her, and I know it. Something has felt wrong from the moment I arrived and as much as I’ve tried to ignore it, I can’t anymore-“

“What family?” You interrupt him, stunning him into silence for a moment.

He is so shocked by your question, he manages to meet your eyes for the first time since opening your bedroom door. “Your family, your parents.”

Your brow furrows, expression lost. “I…don’t have parents, Doctor.”

The Time Lord stares at you, dumbfounded.

And then he’s walking towards you, stepping across the invisible barrier and breaking the distance to stare into your eyes, read what lies beyond them, a stern frown etched in his features. “Yes, you do. As different as parallel worlds can be, if you did not have parents, you would be a very different person. Your mother picked out your living room curtains, your father built the coffee table in there-”

You shake your head, interrupting him again. “Those were both part of the house, they were there when I arrived.”

Too perplexed to continue this interrogation manually, the Doctor takes your hand and all but drags you back to the main control room. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket, he scans your brain and then transfers the data to his monitor, eyes reading the Gallifreyan data displayed over and over again, trying to make sense of it.

“Is there something wrong with me, Doctor?” You ask, beginning to worry based on his expansive knowledge and lack of ability to give you an explanation.

Looking from his monitor to you, he scowls. “Arrived.”

“What?” You question.

“You didn’t say the furniture was there when you moved in, you said it was there when you arrived.” His eyes slowly start to widen. “You saw the Tardis. When we first landed here- she automatically blends in with the world around her, but you saw her. And when I told you to call me the Doctor, you didn’t question it, not once. Despite being introduced to you as John Smith, you never called me that, even in private.” Slow, hesitant steps towards you, as though he’s scared to approach what you could be. “You didn’t question anything, throughout my explanation. Not the time travel, not the Tardis or referring to her as ‘she’, not parallel worlds, not the alien species I referenced, not how we met, the places we’d been- you only started asking questions in the end, about the only things that - out of everything I told you - you didn’t already know.”

His words sink into your skin slowly, your mind finding it much more difficult to digest this information than it had everything else the Doctor has previously told you, and he’s right, all of that should have raised more questions from you.

The Doctor reaches for your hand so slowly, and you don’t know why, but you accept it, instinctively. A small smile blooms on his face, the tiniest glimmer of hope as he looks between you and the Tardis console.

“She wasn’t sick, oh, you sexy thing- that’s how she brought us here, she was tracking you across time and space, pinpointing the anomaly of you, thrown from your own timestream and into another.” He whispers, bringing your hand to his lips to place a kiss against your knuckles. “If we fly away from here, if we go back to your Earth, the timeline will correct itself and you should remember everything- we can’t let this anomaly continue or it could tear apart time and space in some grandiose butterfly effect!”

And he lets go of your hand to run around the console, pressing buttons and pulling levers with an exhilarated grin on his face, the Tardis whirring with excitement, while you just stand there.

“All this time, I thought she couldn't find you, silly old Doctor! I was slow on the uptake, as usual- I hope the Shadow Proclamation can forgive any ripples in the continuum that follow this, but-”

“Doctor, wait.”

He stops suddenly, the wondrous time machine collapsing into silence.

“The fact I already trust you as much as I do and don’t feel terrified by this frankly alarming turn of events, suggests you and the Tardis are right, but…remembering an entire life that, as of now, I don’t fully recognise I’ve lived, how will that feel?” For the first time since meeting the Doctor in this world, you are scared at the thought of what comes next.

Understanding your concern, the Doctor returns to you and takes your hands in his. “Quite honestly, I have no idea, I’ve never seen the recovery process from a vortex tunnel. I can only guess that it will feel overwhelming, it could send you to sleep, but whatever happens, I will be right here, and you will be fine. I promise you. I will never risk you again.”

He holds your face in his hands, gaze locked with yours.

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “Okay.”

The Doctor smiles at you. “Keep your eyes on me and reach for the lever on your left, you know the one.”

And like it’s second nature, your hand grabs the very lever he’s referring to, bringing a beaming grin from the Time Lord as you tug it down.

With a wheeze and a groan, the wonderful time machine lifts into the sky and drags herself out of the parallel world, beginning the journey back to the one you came from. Through the time vortex, your knees buckle, winding you and forcing you to collapse into the Doctor, who holds you against him so tightly, slowly lowering the two of you to the floor to hold you on his lap, arms keeping your body safe as your mind races a mile a minute.

“You can do this, we’re almost there. Come on (Y/N), hold on, for me.” He murmurs into your ear, comforting you through the tears that wrack your body, memories attacking you from every angle.

Regardless of how happy the majority of those memories are, to experience them all at once and at the same time as all of the sad ones, the painful ones; to feel every emotion you are capable of feeling simultaneously and remembering every instance in which you have felt every one, in a microsecond; a human mind can only cope with so much.

The memories of his smile and laugh overlay every flashing image of every place you’ve been together, every species you’ve encountered, friend you’ve made, planet you’ve explored, until it all fades to black and you are empty again.

Only this time, instead of waking up in a simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar house with a mental block on how you had arrived there and no understanding of who you were beyond the corporate life you led amongst billions of your kind, your eyes flutter open to your home. Sitting in a chair beside your bed, he watches over you, your guardian angel. The delirium with which you scan the room around you, acknowledging the crackling fire and the familiarity of your bedroom on the Tardis, makes you feel as though you have slept a thousand years.

“Doctor? What-”

He interrupts you, gently shushing you. “Rest, (Y/N), you need to rest, please. Recovering and reliving your entire life all at once and in under a minute is not a normal process for anyone, you need to let your mind recover.”

Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you nod at him. “How long have I slept for?”

“Three days.”

With eyes like a deer in headlights, you sit bolt upright in bed, immediately starting to feel dizzy and the Doctor jumping from his chair to steady you, propping your pillows up behind you.

“Three days?!”

The Doctor nods. “Yes. Had I thought about this recovery process, I probably would have picked a more comfortable chair.”

Your jaw drops. “Tell me you have not been sitting there for three days straight.”

And the ancient god is silent.

You sigh. “Doctor!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “If I told you I hadn’t been sitting here for three days, that would have been a lie, so I thought it best not to say anything!”

Shaking your head in disbelief at him, you shuffle to the side of your bed that is pressed against the wall. “For goodness’ sake, you ridiculous fool.” You pat the empty space beside you on your bed. “Get in here.”

The Doctor’s eyes widen. “Y-You need the space to rest!”

You hold his gaze. “Before getting to the parallel world, how long had it been since you last saw me?”

He avoids your eyes. “I wasn’t keeping count, we were just drifting while she tracked you- it doesn’t matter.”

Frowning, you look up at the ceiling. “Tardis? On the monitor above my bed, can you tell me how much time had passed between my disappearance and the two of you arriving on the parallel world, in Earth days?”

And as always, she is ever so happy to listen to you. The monitor above your bed flickers on, displaying a black screen with a single line of text.

1096 days, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

Having never been particularly mathematically gifted, you turn back to the Doctor. “...How many years is that?”

But he doesn’t have it in his hearts to tell you, to admit how long he was alone for, how long he and the Tardis grieved for, how long they drifted in space while she searched for you and he tortured himself with the guilt of losing you, the hopelessness of never being able to find you again. Retrieving his sonic screwdriver from his jacket again, he zaps the monitor above your bed and then returns the tool to his pocket, hanging his head.

Looking back up at the monitor, your eyes fill with tears at the change of text.

3 Years, 1 Day, 15 hours, 38 minutes, 4 seconds.

One hand lifts to cover your trembling bottom lip, while the other reaches for his hand.

“Three years?! Doctor, that’s-”

He cuts you off. “If the Tardis hadn't taken flight when she did, it would have been an eternity, I can assure you.”

The Doctor’s words hit you like a train, so suddenly and stopping your heart with a screech before it starts again, spluttering frantically in your chest at the impact. Sniffling and wiping your eyes, you chuckle, in complete disbelief.

“Well, daft old man, you know what that means, don’t you?”

Unable to resist the urge to lift his head and see your smile again, the Doctor meets your eyes. Without realizing it, he starts to smile back at you, silently asking you to continue.

And you do, giving his hand a squeeze before letting go of it to tap the empty space on the mattress beside you again, with a tearful smile that sets both his hearts ablaze.

“I think you need a cuddle just as much as I do.”

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #doctor who imagine #eleventh doctor imagine

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ja3hwa · 2 years

Text

Ateez Reacts To Back Tattoos

「Synopsis」 : Ateez Reaction To Their idol Crush Or Idol S/o Having A Back/Spine Tattoo.

「Word count」 : 1.8k

-> Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Slice Of Life, Slightly Suggestive.

Paring: Ateez x Idol!Reader

[Warnings] : Tattoos, mentions of boners, all the boys are simps for the reader, the boys all have staring problems. Let me know if i missed something.

Note : To my anonymous requester, I hope you enjoy this read. I had fun writing this! ♡♡

Hongjoong - Black And Red Wings

- After being informed by your company that you were going to be working on an OST with Hongjoong for a new kdrama you were excited. But maybe not as excited or should we say as nervous as Joong. This boy is so happy he can hang out with you doing his favourite thing. Make music. Hours pass with you both in the studio and you start to shift every so often trying not to distract Joong but he noticed almost instantly. He would ask if you are okay and you will go a little red when you admit you have a tattoo and it was only just done a day ago and you're supposed to put cream on it but you can't reach it.

- "I can help you!" He would say so quickly making him turn bright red. You giggle with a smile thanking him for the offer before grabbing the cream out of your bag and lifting your shirt up. Now, this is when Hongjoong's brain will short circuit. As a man that has tattoos himself, he loves the idea of ink and seeing a grungy almost sketchy design of dragon wings in harsh black lines. Man of man he wanted to get down on one knee and marry you right that second. But through a red face, he helps you apply the cream, slowly losing his mind at how hot your skin is. He needs to ask you out before it's too late.

Seonghwa - Planet Alignments

- Since you were San's sibling, you hung around with the boys often. From hanging out at home to sitting with each other in events like mama, and Kcon. But today you were hanging out with them at the dorm. Woo was, well he was being himself really. He was jumping around while playing games with Mingi and Jongho. San and Yeosang had stepped out to get some fast food when the incident happened. Woo jumped up in victory as he won a racing game but he didn't take into account that the coffee table was too close to him, making him spill the three cups of soda all over the floor, the counter and you. You sat up with anger and frustration. You tried to say it was okay but Wooyoung was trying his hardest over and over again to apologise.

- You just brushed it off and headed towards San's room for a new shirt. But when you went down the hall you bumped into Seonghwa while he was doing the laundry. You told him what happened and he offered to give you a clean shirt of San's that just came out of the drier. So when you followed him into the laundry room, you took your shirt off as if it was nothing and lent over to grab the shirt. Seonghwa stood still watching you. He didn't mean to stare, but when he suddenly got to see the ink of planet alignments, he couldn't help it. His face went red, curiosity wondered in his mind if you had more tattoos. He complimented you making yourself blush, thanking them while losing your mind.

Yunho - Phoenix

- To say Yunho was nervous, would be an understatement. First, he finds out he is going to be the lead actor in a vampire romance drama. Then he finds that you are going to play the lead actress. And then the cherry that takes the cake is a photo shoot with you. Man is his heart racing. The whole time he watched you with nothing but admiration. Most of the shoot was harmless posing but as you both posed for more and more photos, the pictures become more subjective. Some of the camera staff pledged an idea for a more intimate shoot. So here he was waiting on a long red velvet couch wearing a black suit with the blouse opened showing his chest. You entered the room with a towel wrapped in front of you. He tried not to watch you but curiosity took him as he saw you let the towel fall slightly so your chest was still covered by your back was on display.

- He nearly choked on his spit when he saw the large phoenix etched into your skin, saying he was a little turned on was as true as his red flustered cheeks. You shuffled over once the makeup artist was done bronzing your skin. You looked down with a small smile, making him smile back at you. He lent back so you can sit on his lap facing him. You lean against him. Placing your arms around his neck before looking at the camera behind you, but still covering yourself. But now Yunho had to pose, and compose himself. But how could he when his crush had not only a badass tattoo but is now sitting in his lap with no shirt on.

Yeosang - Dragon Catching The Moon

- Your outfit was done, hair and makeup finished. And now you have to host with your crush Yeosang. And oh boy were you both nervous. But not for MCing one of the biggest shows in the K-pop industry, no no. It was that you had to do it together. You two could barely talk to one another when you were together. but when you head down the hall towards where you get your tape and mic, you spot Yeosang. He was almost immediately red in the face. The dress you were wearing was a long fit and flare with an open back. You both say hi as he awkwardly watches to staff come over with bandage tape. You turn to show your back to them making Yeosang have a clear view of your little dragon catching the moon up your spin. If you couldn't get any more beautiful, here you are.

- Something clicked in his head when he saw the tape being placed on your back, covering the pretty ink. Was it anger? Why must they always have to cover up tattoos for shows? That question is rhetorical. Yeosang knows why, but man does it rub him the wrong way. But at least he got to see it before it was gone from his view.

San - Snake On Flowers

- San is a die-hard fanboy of you. Every time you had a comeback, new mv, new stages, new concept photos. He would be a giggling little mess. Upon a new event on mnet lead to you and your group having a comeback stage and Ateez just had a comeback as well so he was able to see you up close in your element. Now let me explain, San and you are dating. It was secretly, but let's face it San is the type of guy to scream how in love he is with you to the world.

- Seonghwa had to keep him from getting out of hand when he saw you walk on stage. You were nothing but amazing. Your dancing was sharp and beautiful as ever. San craved to dance with you on stage. Just hoping one day he would be able to. You were the ending fairy and you ended the crazy and hyped stage with your back showing to the camera and your sheer top letting everyone see your snake that is covered with flowers on your back. Sans moved was hung open. Jaw on the floor. He did not move his eye contact from you. When did you get a back tattoo!? Wooyoung had to cover his mouth when the reaction camera pointed at him. The stans are so going to meme his reaction.

Mingi - Snake An Dagger

- This was the first night he was staying at your place. First time sleeping in the same bed. And it was the first time you would be intimate. Well, he hopes. You were just getting out of the shower and decided to steal his shirt without him knowing, but he saw you sneak in with your towel on before tip-toeing back. You left the door open, so he walked towards the half-cracked door to tease you about wearing his shirt, but when he stood at the door frame his movement halted as he saw a snake wrapped around a dagger inked on your back.

- His mind went wild at the tattoo, heart raced more. All his big boy moves went out the window. He wanted to reach out and trace every line and detail. He wanted to kiss your spine with adoration. His throat became clogged with saliva as all his hard bad-boy exterior came crumbling down in these seconds. He was wrapped around your finger and you covered in ink was the best thing in his mind.

Wooyoung - Red Roses, Dragon

- You were hanging out with your brother Hongjoong all day and he decided for you to stay at the dorms for dinner and since you've been at dance practice prior in the morning, you borrowed their shower. Seemed fair right? But that one tiny detail was left out for Wooyoung. So when he couldn't find San he thought, the showers it going he is probably in there. Big wrong. Wooyoung walked in of your showering and my god was it a moment of embarrassment and weird boners.

- Your back turned to him in hopes to hide what you could. but all he got was a nice show of your dragon laying on a bed of red flowers along your spine. 'holy shit as if you couldn't get hotter. he would think before screaming I'm sorry, leaving but he did make sure to take one last glance at the badass tattoo so he could remember every detail his brain could.

Jongho - Death Moth

- With summer hitting hard, beaches and pools became a place to hang out. And luckily your house had a pool. So like the mice person you are you invite your members, ateez and some other idol friends to a pool party lunch. Everyone was having fun, eating nice food, and cooling off in the lavishing water. It was a perfect day. And to think it couldn't get any more perfect, Jongho was literally dying at the sight of your death moth tattoo inked on your upper back. He didn't know you had a tattoo let alone liked the idea of them. But he must say he didn't mind it in the slightest.

- The boys had to keep reminding him to stop staring and to just go ask you out already. But little did they know, you were kinda already seeing each other. Not officially but you've been on a couple of dates. Mind you none of the dates lead to you losing your shirt, hence why he is so shocked at the fact you have a tattoo. But damn he wants to know what other secrets you could be hiding, 'cause if they are as hot as your tattoo. He is not ready.

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neon-prison · 1 year

Text

2077 Character OST

Tagged by @pozerjacket!

Vee's an upbeat, move fast, think faster kind of girl- so all her songs are high-tempo, blood-pumping jams! Johnny's secondhand listened to so much EDM/Dubstep/Eurobeat/Techno that he's unironically started liking it.

(They're jamming to 'No Mercy Only Violence- Skrillex Remix') in an extremely rare moment of peace.

Game Rules: Choose one of your characters and list song(s) that fit them.

------- ✧ -------

No Mercy Only Violence (Skrillex Remix)

Make Up Your Mind- Initial D

Karma- Alma (Vee's Main theme)

Gecko (Overdrive)- Oliver Heldens x Becky Hill/Matrix Remix

Sunny- Papa Ya

Roses- SAINt JHN (Imanbek Remix)

Glitter and Gold- Barns Courtney

You don't know me- Jax Jones Ft. Raye

Fuck with Myself- BANKS

Team- Iggy Azalea

------- ✧ --------

The next victims! No pressure, as always!

@just-a-cybercroissant @gloryride @a-pirate @caffeinatedrogue @themightiestpotato @wanderingaldecaldo

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #oc:vee #a rare moment of peace between these two #Johnny will kill anyone who finds out he rocked out to SKRILLEX of all people

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nocturnesmoon · 6 months

Text

And if you die, I wanna die with you

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader Word count: 4.8k Tags: Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Heavy injuries, Flashbacks, Established relationship, Medical inaccuracies in terms of wounds and severity CW: Major character death, no happy ending, Canon Typical Violence A/N: ✨And if you go, i wanna go with you, and if you die, i wanna die with you, take your hand and walk away✨ (Read on Ao3) - "Would you still love me if i was a worm?" "Would you still love me if i was a Ghost?" -

The world is muted.

Completely muffled to your damaged ears, the aftershocks of the explosion were still fresh on your body. The sharp pain in your arm indicated most likely a broken bone, you couldn't even pinpoint where the rest of the screaming pain was coming from. Every little movement you tried to make send white hot pain through your skull.

"G- h…ost" you gasped for air, the sound of his callsign was supposed to be a yell, but it fell only on a whisper. You tried to look around, to locate the person you needed to see, but everything in your line of sight was rubble and debris, a distant fire and smoke. Each agonizing second that passed taunting you with the fact he wasn't responding.

You slowly raised yourself upwards, moving every limb that wasn't broken and supporting yourself against the ruined wall you had been pushed against. The air in your lungs stung, every breath you took reminding you of your state. You reach for your radio, trying to locate the box that should be strapped to your torso, but it was gone.

A groan bubbled up in your throat, it was hard to think when your own head felt like it was cracked wide open. You were rolling completely on barebones instincts, your only thought being to find him, to make sure he's okay.

You can still hear the occasional gunshots from somewhere else, everything is dampened, as if cotton has been stuffed in your ears. The probability of hearing damage becomes a much scarier reality the more you get back in tune with your senses.

You push it into the back of your mind, it's not important right now, it's a probability you can process later. The wall behind you is half crumbled down, too much pressure makes it threaten to spill right over you. You push against it, slowly raising yourself up to standing once again, your knees barely wanted to obey your internal commands. Everything in your body was delayed, your body wasn't listening to you.

Even as you commanded your arms to shield your fall, they weren't fast enough when your knees buckled under you and you faceplanted right into the dirt once again. "F- uck" you groaned, you didn't want to let the fear take hold, but you could feel its cold hands clawing at your ankles. Your eyes honed in on the rubble of debris in the corner, the place he'd pushed you away from in the last second.

One arm in front of the other your clawed at the ground, wincing at the feeling of your broken nails. In slow motions you began to move, crawling across the room that now felt so much larger. You still couldn't fathom that he had pushed you out of the way, you should've taken the fall, but he took your place.

It wasn't supposed to go like this whatsoever, he wasn't supposed to take your place, he was never supposed to take your place in danger. Air eludes you, making you gasp and sputter as you reach the mountain of broken ceiling and furniture.

"Simon…" you rasp hoping that he somehow could hear your strained voice from wherever he was. There was no response, only the muffled sound of the blearing wind, the distant fight and the screaming in your own mind. You caught sight of your bloodied hand, latched onto a chunk of the debris as you did your best to pull, you couldn't help the shaking, the innate fear that he might never respond.

Some of the stone and dirt trickle off, the piece pulls aside, and you notice the small critters crushed underneath. Some bugs you can't name, a roach that almost made it out. A worm, half its body mashed to liquid and other half still wiggling in desperate search of escape.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Simon looks up from his phone, a little caught off guard by the sudden intrusion of the silence. "Seriously?" he asks unimpressed, not having expected you to throw him that question of all things. He rolled his shoulders back, working out the tensing that had formed from laying at such an awkward angle in the bed.

"C'mon answer the question!" you swatted his arm, inching closer to him as you waited for his answer, "Would you love me if I was a worm?". You rolled onto your stomach and leaned closer to him, propping yourself up on your elbows and placing your chin in the palm of your hand.

"No"

You let out an exaggerated gasp of offence, "Why not?" you moved yourself even closer so you could place your head on his stomach, angling your body sideways in his bed. He sighed and put his phone away, his eyes flickering to you and giving you his undivided attention.

"Cause you'd be a worm, I'd probably crush you by accident" he gently ran a hand through your hair, rubbing his calloused fingers over your scalp. Your eyes fluttered from the sensation, the feeling of goosebumps going down your back.

Still, you manage to let out scoff in mock offence, "Mean." You pout and turn your body to lay on your back again, ignoring the way Simon fakes the sound of being crushed under your weight. You've seen him carry another soldier the size of himself, he would be fine.

He keeps his hand resting on your head, gently nudging you a little further up so you weren't laying it directly on his stomach. "Would you still love me if i was a Ghost?" he asks, countering your own silly question with one of his own. You raised a brow at that, curious that he was now indulging you in your sappy feelings.

"An actual ghost?"

"Yeah"

You turned your head to watch the curling smile on his lips, how you'd love to kiss the teasing grin right off. You blow out air through your nose, your shoulders jolting just a little in amusement. The question didn't sound like it needed a serious answer, it was obviously just a ploy on his own callsign. Yet you were out to annoy him right back, so you gave it some serious thought.

"Yeah, I think I would," you say with a grin on your face, "I mean I know you'd always watch over me." His smirk widens at your answer, looking at you as if he didn't quite believe your sentiment. "Even if I couldn't see you, I'd love the fuck out of your ghost," you roll your body again, letting out a satisfied huff when you settle atop of him, and he starts complaining again.

You always knew it wasn't serious, his complaining amounting to nothing because instead of pushing you right off he pulls you closer. Cuddling you tight as he mumbles his complaints in your ear, while you can still hear the teasing smirk on his lips.

Your mouth feels like it's full of sand, the dry heat stirs your discomfort to a new level. The sting in your eyes is no longer from the impact, and you bite back on your tongue to muffle a cry. A cry for him to hear, the one only he could soothe, the ache only he knew how to quell.

A newfound strength burrowed itself in your bones from your agony, the drive to pull chunk after chunk. Every little piece brought you closer and closer to your goal, to something that was terrifyingly far away. Every piece hurt; every stone made your hands bleed even more. Every new area uncovered that didn't show sign of him festered in your heart, every moment you didn't find him stabbed a knife into your wretched heart.

Your own lungs couldn't contain you, the need to scream his name bubbled up and was just barely suppressed when you saw that familiar glove. The one you had studied in your own hand time and time again, the hand it usually encompassed wasn't there. His skeleton gloves having been pulled off during the tumble. Your own shaking hands grab it and hold it close to your chest, it was full of dirt and blood, the bone markings ripped, and some parts were even peeling off.

You quickly pocketed the gloves, intent on giving them back to him as soon as you both got out of here. They meant a lot to him, even if it was for silly reasons, he always wore them, they were his. The mountain of rocks felt like an impossible task, but he had to be here, you had to get to him quick.

There was no way to know what kind of state he was in, but guessing from your own injuries his would be even worse. The cold dread started to form in the pits of your stomach, you wanted to throw up. This was never supposed to happen to either of you, you were supposed to be invincible, you were supposed to be able to protect each other from harm.

That was the problem, he had protected you from harm, in the one moment where you wished he didn't. You removed another piece of debris and felt your heart spike in your throat. His hand was covered in a layer of grey dust, his blood coating a thin streak right over his palm. You felt your panic take hold, the creeping fear now sinking its cold teeth into your back.

Piece after piece after piece is removed in a haste, and you let out a cry of frustration when some of it tumbles in the wrong direction. You uncover his arm; the fabric of his shirt is torn but you no longer pay attention to the extent of the damage. The rest of the rubble covering him is easily removed, and you settle next to him, frantically searching his body for wounds before checking his lucidity.

His mask is torn in half, his balaclava ruined and giving a view of the bruises underneath. You choke back on a sob, seeing the mangled state he was in sent spikes straight into your heart. "No no no," you move your shaking hands to his face, gently sliding his mask fully off so you could cradle his face.

Tears filled your eyes making it hard to see, what was right in front of you. You tried to gently shake him, while trying to hold back what would become hysterical sobbing. He wasn't moving, you couldn't see if he was breathing, he wasn't responding. "No no no! You can't leave me, i can't do this without you!" you cried out for him, "Simon!"

"I can't do this without you" you sobbed, your pouring tears mixing with the downfall of rain. It was all too climactic, too cheesy and movie like, you hated it more than anything, because the pain in your heart didn't feel like when you watched those movies. This was real, and it held unfathomable power over you, a single person’s answer being able to either make the rain stop or tear your world in half.

He stood in front of you motionless, he looked something akin to a statue in the darkness. You desperately wished he would be more expressive, at least for you, at least in this moment. His clothes were soaked through, his balaclava sticking uncomfortably to his face no doubt. You had no idea how long he had been out here waiting for you.

"I don't want to do this without you Simon," you pleaded with him, "I know you said it wouldn't end well, and that my feelings would pass but i know they won't." You spoke pathetically through your tears, you wanted to scream at him, blame him for getting you into this but you knew it wasn't just his fault. You were just as much to blame, for the developing of your feelings.

It had started off as a simple arrangement, something to get both of your frustrations out after missions. However, it quickly developed into so much more, you had promised each other to keep it on a tight leash, to not let it become more than that. You both knew after that first night that it wouldn't be possible to keep it from running loose.

"I love you."

Your eyes were desperately searching him, looking for anything that could be deciphered as an answer. He drove you crazy, every single part of his existence drove you to that line of madness. A love, an obsession, a devotion so strong it was breaking you to know he didn't want to feel the same.

"I don't want to just forget about you, i want you, all of you," you continued, consciously glancing away as you couldn't take his piercing stare anymore. "I want us to be together, to grow together, to die together," you feel the cracks in your voice get worse, "I know you said we shouldn't fall in love, but i want to love you SimMmh-"

You feel his rough lips crash unto yours, forcing you to step backwards in shock but he would only follow. In all your years knowing him, you never understood how he moved so much muscle so effortlessly, and so quietly, nonetheless. You hadn't even noticed how he had bolted forward in the middle of your grand speech, how he had ripped off his balaclava and exposed his hair to the rain.

You only felt how his lips moved feverishly against your own, how his hands grabbed your face and waist and pulled you closer. His grip was strong, there was no escape even though you didn't even want one. You move in sync with him, feeling his caressing tongue, his digging fingers, and his soft groan. He kissed you like you were the only person in the world.

"You're a bloody fool" he whispered against your lips, resting his forehead against yours as you pulled in air. "To not see how much I love you too, how fuckin' enamored I am with you," his dark brown eyes stare straight into your own, "Don't you understand just how much I would do for you? It scares me to love you, because I know I would do anything you'd ever ask of me, I’d give you my heart, my soul, I’d tear my own flesh if you wished it of me."

You stared back in shock, taking in his words like were they priced possessions you would never get again, "I just want to be with you, I don't want to be alone anymore". You couldn't tell what was rain and what was tears on your wet cheeks anymore, but the way he held you, so carefully wiping tear and rain away, like you might break if he moved the wrong way did things to your heart.

"Then that's what we'll do, no more hiding from each other" he whispered close to you, the overpowering sound of pattering rain deafening the world around you. Creating a bubble of safety that consisted just of two, "You'll never have to be alone again".

The sound of his rasp cough made you jerk your hands away from him. In one quick motion your wiped away the tears that blurred your vision so you could focus on him. He looked so pale, his eyes half lidded as he slowly moved his head.

"Oh god, oh my god Simon, why did you do that!" you can't help your outburst and the tears that come along with it, you shake him not thinking of his injuries, "You can't just do that!" A weak hand gently grazed your arm to make you stop.

"E- Easy" he struggled to get his words out, he was no doubt still adjusting to the disorienting feeling. The hollow look in his eyes terrified you, and you quickly grabbed his hand squeezing it tight in your own.

"Simon, you're…" your teeth sink into your own lip, you hadn't checked the extent of his injuries, you hadn't checked where he was bleeding or if it was all blunt. Your eyes scan him but it's hard to see in the darkness, his black gear and attire blending in with the grey shadows engulfing you both.

You feel him trying to squeeze you back, but the force is so feint, if you didn't know any better you'd think there's no intent behind it. "M…okay…" his voice is so quiet in your ears, even more muffled than the rest of the world around you.

"No no you’re not!" you have no idea whether you’re shouting or screaming or crying, it's probably a mix of all three. Your free hand starts moving around his torn clothes, pushing it aside to get a look at the scratches and cuts on his body. Your eyes fall to his stomach, the place where his shirt is clamping to something wet.

Your heart catches in your throat and you choke out a pathetic noise. You didn't want to raise his shirt, you already knew what you would find, but you didn't want to know what it would mean for you right now. "Hey…" his voice sounded so solemn, as if he already knew, as if he already had it figured out how it would end.

"S'ok…" he mumbled quietly, trying to squeeze against your hand. He sounded almost floaty, the pain going through him must be immense, enough to mess with his head if the fall didn't do it. "B- Breathe darling…need you to stay strong, okay?" you hadn't even noticed the way you were starting to panic again.

You never understood how he did it, how he managed to stay so calm during such crucial situations. You were good at keeping a level head in most types of life-threatening situations, but this was different, too different. "Why did you do that? Why did you push me away," you bite down on your tongue intentionally, now desperately wishing you had a better control over your emotions.

"M'always gonna push you away from the danger," he says quietly, a smile that was barely visible resting on his lips. "It's what we agreed wasn't it?" his hand gently comes up to graze your cheek, the weak nature of his shaking hand only made you cry harder.

"Not like this, it wasn't supposed to be like this," You cup his hand that's resting against your cheek. His thumb gently vibes away the falling tears, and you feel the way it runs over a bruise. It hurts but it's nothing like the ache in your heart.

"And you?" he asked quietly, the soft glow of the cigarette bud illuminating him in the night, "Would you give your life f'mine?" The conversation had come up during your nightly ramblings, going over everything and nothing, however the mood strikes.

"Without hesitation," you say determinedly, reaching out to grab the cigarette from him so you could take a puff. "I'd trade my life for yours any day" you tell him again after your drag. He looks at you with an amused glint in his eyes.

"No hesitation, huh?" he leans back against the wall behind him, watching your expression as he contemplates it. "I think, if it came down to it, I’d be okay with dying if it was with you" he says after a moment of thought, he takes the cigarette back and flicks off the gathering ash.

"Hmm" your noise of disagreement wasn't lost on him; you move in front of him walking into his space and staring at him with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, but you're not dying" you say and press a finger against his chest, almost accusatorily.

He lets out a scratchy chuckle, clearing his throat before returning your stare in an amused way. "Not planning on it anytime soon sweetheart" he takes your hand in his own before bringing it to his lips, "How could I ever let you be alone like that."

"I know…I know," he hates the sound of your cries, it feels worse than the blearing pain his stomach. "Love…are you injured?" every word he speaks becomes harder and harder to force out. His body isn't working with him, and he despite how much he doesn't want to accept it, he knows it's no use. His only chance now is making you realize you need to get out of here.

"No….yes…..I…fuck.." it's hard to think when it feels like everything you ever cared about is on the line. "I'm okay…I’ll live…" he nods slowly in response, his eyes clenching shut as he bites back on a groan of pain. He knows what he's about to ask of you is gonna cause undesired feelings to stir within you, he doesn't even know if he can convince you, but he has to.

"Listen to me darling," your eyes snap to his droopy ones, he envied your awareness, "You need to survive….you need to go." Your eyebrows furrow, a frown falling onto your lips as you realize what he's asking you to do.

When you just think the situations, severity couldn't dawn on your harder, it does. Your stomach churns with nausea, a million different scenarios going through your head to think it through, but it all boils down to it, there's no way you can get him out of here.

"No no wait just let me think I can…" you rub your hands frantically over your face, trying to force some sort of epiphany to happen in your brain. The one thing that could save you both, anything that would not have you leave him here to die. "Shit, your radio, do you still have it? Mine broke doing my fall but if yours…" you move his shredded gear around to look for a sign of his radio.

You had no idea whether the radio would even work out here, it was a likely scenario that there is some kind of jammer up by now. But if there's even a sliver of hope, a small chance you could call for evac, or backup, or anyone, you'd take it. There was no way you were carrying him out here on your own.

All you had to do was find his radio, and pray it wasn't crushed under the debris.

"Darling…darling no….stop" he tries to catch your frantic hands, but his movements are too slow to do it before you move them to a new place. It's as if he can feel his own heart start to slow, every single second that passes he knows it's just a few more until he'll close his eyes. "Stop," his authoritative tone is so different on your ears, but it still makes you listen like a spellbound command.

The radio is nowhere to be found, in bits and pieces alongside most of his other gear. Crushing the hope, you had along with it, taking your final chance at saving him right out of your grip. It makes you freeze faster than any of his commands ever has done before.

He presses you to his chest, successfully maneuvering you into an awkward position that's halfway into his lap. The fall he took when the debris crushed him from above, left him in a weird almost sitting position.

You latch onto him, angling your hands to put pressure on the wound hiding beneath his shirt. You desperately wish it would help, as if by some comedic divine intervention would heal his wound and you could go on home. That if you just believed hard it enough then maybe this wouldn't be happening to you or to him.

"S'ok, s'gonna be okay love."

The cough that escapes his lips betrays his words of assurance; you look up from your place against his chest. Red blood smears down his chin, indicating of how little time you could have left. You don't want him to go, there's still so much you want to do with him, this isn't how it was supposed to end.

"M'gonna marry you someday," he mumbled sleepily into the crook of your neck. He was heavy on top of you, all of his weight relaxed unto your body and giving you the grounding, you needed. A long time ago he would be worried he would crush you, now he relishes in the feeling of relief he can give you, and the soft scalp scratches he gets for it.

"What?" you ask dumbfounded, it had been total silence between the two of you. You had been sure he had been asleep in all honesty, and then his voice rumbles out. Not just catching you off guard by him being half-awake, but the nature of the statement aswell.

"M'gonna get you a wedding ring, n' m'gonna marry you," he continues his mumbled rambling. You wonder if he even knows he's telling you this, if he's in that state between awake and sleep, his walls of defenses completely gone as you hold him.

If it was possible to have hearts for pupils, that's probably what'd you look like in this moment. So drunk off of his love, and he wasn't even awake to witness it. "You want to marry me?" you had already gotten your answer, but you wanted to hear it again, and again and again. Right up until that fated moment at the altar when you would finally hear the words.

"I do"

"M'sorry I couldn't marry you," his shaking hand cradles your face as you cry into his chest, using all the strength he has left to comfort you and assure you. Despite the way he's starting to dip in and out of consciousness.

The engagement ring, hanging in the chain you wear under all your gear, normally safely nestled against your chest, now burned like a thousand suns against your flesh. The promise that was supposed to be fulfilled a year from now, the promise of something better, a future in each other’s arms no matter what the world would throw at you.

"I can still see it, the little cabin we would retire to, the animals you'd insist on keeping, our nights spent on a porch watching a sunset"

"Please…Si…"

His smile is crooked, the blood coating his dried and dusted lips hurts to look at. It's not supposed to be there, it's not supposed to be his. Everything you had promised him would fade into dust, every little whisper of something better would mean nothing. Your relationship falling into the dark corners of your memory.

"It's gonna be okay….we'll…see each other again….I'll always watch over you…remember…" he tries to cheer you up, to lessen the impact he knows his inevitable demise will have on you. He can see it in your face, the betrayal and hurt, the uncertainty and pure devastation. "C'mon, lemme see that beautiful smile," he urges you.

When you don't comply he tries to do a dramatic pout, mimicking your own behavior in an argument with him. You can't decide if you appreciate his less serious side in this moment, you don't know how to feel yourself.

"C'mon," he says again, "Why don't blind folk skydive? Cause it'd scare the shit out of their dogs." The joke is old, used, but it's so him you can't help the small smile that tugs on your lips. "There it is, that gorgeous smile," he mirrors it, smiling brighter through the pain in hopes of you doing the same.

"Simon," there's a longing in your voice, the look in your eye so full of sadness it doesn't even escape your smile. He knows what you’re thinking, all the inevitabilities that'll happen after this moment. How desperately he wishes he could be there for you, that he could do something, anything to alleviate the situation.

The calm acceptance is already rolling through his brain, his quiet thoughts preparing him for the darkness his mind is slowly pulling him towards. You come impossibly closer to him, soaking up to him and taking every moment as the last. Your forehead gently rests against his, and he takes initiative himself to taste your lips one final time.

It's a slow agonizing kiss, every thought, every emotion, every promise is poured into it. His lips connected with yours, allowing you peek at his mind, his darkest fears becoming a frightening reality that you're going to be left with.

"I love you"

He holds you close for a long time, and you stay even longer. Even when his arms slowly go lax around you, even as his eyes close, even as his movements seizes. You don't find it in yourself to let him go, even as his body goes cold and his last breath is exhaled. You stay in his cold embrace, his name falling from your lips in silent prayer. A prayer directed to anyone that could hear you, that they might give back your lost love.

#NoctMoonFics #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x gn reader #gn reader

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tytangfei · 1 year

Text

hello I need more people to watch the starry love, please. So far, 12 episodes in, I'm really enjoying it! If you're interested in these things, you might like the drama too:

Powerful and socially awkward male lead (there are Reasons why he lacks emotions and is awkward) who just wants peace and quiet

Refuse to lie down and die female lead who fights against her inauspicious fate and anyone else who looks down on her and we love her for that (truly. Fuck her shitty ass father)

The two above are the stoic male lead x mischievous female lead type (also the bickering couple type lmao)

Treacherous tragic lying second male lead who keeps spinning a web of lies that will probably definitely backfire one day 🤡

Genuinely kind-hearted second female lead who also has a backbone when it comes down to it

The second couple above is the sweet girl x bad boy type

Sisters who really care about each other and protect each other !!!

COMEDY!??? IN MY TRAGIC ROMANCE FANTASY PERIOD DRAMA??? yes yes, pleaseeee.

Sarcastic servants/right-hand men who literally has no qualms about calling you out and also enjoys punching you to keep your web of lies going 🤡

Supporting characters who are likeable like a mother who will scheme with her son so that her son can impress the girl he likes, pleaseeeee lmao

Couples that are enjoyable and so far not a single one that you want to fast forward

Badass OST by the one and only Sa DingDing (infamous for her song from Ashes of Love but of course she's done many others like a song for The Long Ballad); the one and only Mao Buyi (who also sung for Ashes of Love, Ancient Love Poetry, etc.); and also Liu Yining ! Who sings for literally everything these days, as he should. It's great.

I'll probably make a full slide show at a later time! Hope this was helpful lol.

#the starry love #love when the stars fall #chen xingxu #landy li #luke chen #he xuanlin #cdrama #xianxia drama #jina watches cdramas

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lostfirefly · 4 months

Text

Life Must Have It's Mysteries (Ch.3)

Nobody asked me, but the thought of sending my beloved couple on a new journey didn't let me go. Welcome to a new adventure! No idea how many chapters there will be :) Pain continues leading me to art :)

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) Masterlist is here.

Description: Buggy and Catherine have clues as to where to find the map. Our treasure hunt is picking up speed!

Warnings: Fun, fluff, adventureee! Shitty shit :)

Words: 4112 (sorry again)

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august, @rorywritesjunk

The title is taken from "Life Must Have It's Mysteries" by Hans Zimmer (OST Inferno).

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Could you be more focused, Buggy? Please!”

“What? I do nothing!”

“Stop grabbing my ass, asshole!! I’m trying to read and collect all the information we have into one whole. And you're distracting me!" Catherine threw his hand off her buttocks.

“It's not me! Baby, it's you!” Buggy made innocent eyes and poked Catherine's nose with his finger. “You're lying naked next to me. Can you imagine how hard it is not to touch you?!”

“You're pissing me off already! For the last time, I'm not naked! I'm in a t-shirt! See?” She tugged at her clothes.

“That’s mine! So it counts as you being naked!”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You're disgus… Hey! What the fuck?!” Catherine moved her hand under her buttocks and reached for his separated hand. "Really? Damn you and your chop chop abilities, fucking clown!! That’s it! You're behaving badly and I’m keeping your hand!”

“Hey, give it back!”

“Nope!!”

“You'd think that would stop me?” Buggy pulled Catherine towards him with one hand and began kissing her neck.

“No, let me go!!” She tried to fight back with the papers and his hand. “Can I ask you..oh, shit..a question, my blue-haired bastard?”

He nodded and continued kissing her neck.

“Have you ever.. oh, fuck so good… had a girlfriend before me? I feel like they've either been gone a long time or never existed.”

“Of course I had girls. But cotton candy, you are not just a random girl. You’re my one and only favorite pie.” He looked into her eyes and kissed her lips.

“That's it! Let me go, fucking octopus!!! Or I'll rip your Buggy Balls off.” Catherine playfully hit him with the papers again.

“Shit!” He loosened his grip.

Catherine finally sat down, leaning on the headboard of the bed. “Are you kidding me? We had sex for two hours! Give me a break!” She ruffled his hair with his hand she held in hers.

Buggy looked upset. Catherine glanced at him, smiled and pecked him on the cheek. “Oh! Don't be sad!” She pointed at her shoulder with his hand. “C’mere, my silly clown!”

Buggy happily scooted over to her, took his hand back, put his head under her armpit, and began to run his fingers over the sheets.

“Any of your favorite riddles in here?”

“I don't see any yet and hopefully I won't.” Catherine hugged him around his shoulder, kissed the top of his head and heard her stomach murmur. “See what you did to me, my insatiable clown? I'm hungry now!”

Buggy turned his head slightly and looked at her from under his eyebrows “Do you want me to go get you something?”

“Can you?” She stroked his cheek and made puppy eyes.

“Baby, for you, I'll walk through death, scary sea currents and I’ll even go to a cafe to buy you fast food.”

“Then get me a bucket of chicken wings, fries, and a Coke, please!” She kissed his temple.

Buggy got out of bed, exhaling loudly, pulled on his pants, t-shirt, sneakers and walked out of the room.

“Thank god I'll at least get a break from him!” Catherine pulled on her pajama pants.

She was lying on her stomach with her legs dangling when she heard the sound of the door opening.

“I'm back, my cotton candy! I allowed myself the nerve to buy you your favorite double cheeseburger with extra cheese. And just for your information, a nice girl wanted to ask for my phone number but I happily told her I was already occupied with some pretty red-haired bitch.”

“Oh, stop lying, clown. Who needs you besides me! No one will put up with your whining every day. This punishment went to me.” She pushed the papers aside, got up off her stomach and sat on the bed on her knees.

“Ouch! A blow straight to the heart!” Buggy flopped down beside her, placing a large bucket of wings on the bed.

“Your burger, ass.” He handed her the box.

“With extra cheese!! Thank you, my blue-haired hero!!” Smack, smack, smack. “Have I told you I love you?"

“Nope, first time I've heard.” He kissed her temple and stroked her back with his hand. “Did you find anything?”

“Actually, yes!” Catherine took the burger out of the box and took a bite. “God, it's delicious. Here, try it.” She brought the burger up to his mouth. “Tasty?”

He took a bite, nodded and mumbled with his mouth full. “And what did you find?”

“Geeez, I still have to teach and teach you manners! Chew on that first!” Catherine laughed, took a napkin and wiped his mouth.

“Screw you!” He swallowed the food and pecked Catherine on the cheek. He snuggled against her, put one hand on her waist and stared at the papers.

Catherine made herself comfortable beside Buggy. She couldn't contain her smile and gave him another bite of her burger.

“You're so warm, my Buggy Bear. I love you. So… While you were gone, I looked at what's available and what this girl told us-- Vivi or whatever her name is. Anyway, look. The map and possibly this cryptex are right here." She jabbed her finger at the map and then reached for a french fry and put it in Buggy's mouth. "You see, there are some coordinates and arrows mentioned in these copies. There seems to be some kind of building here. Vivi wrote down two letters in my notebook. BW. I don't know what that is..”

“I know only one group with these BW. Baroque Works. Shit! And if so, we have a little problem!”

“What? Why?” Catherine turned her head towards him.

“Let's just say I have a little problem with them.” Buggy smirked.

“What? Who are they?” She turned to face him and crossed her legs.

“Well.. They're a criminal syndicate." He scratched his cheek.

“What??” Her jaw dropped.

Buggy shrugged.

“Oh my God! What have you done?” Catherine blinked her eyes and didn't take her eyes off him.

“Oh, Cathie-pie, I did a lot of things.” He chuckled mischievously, took her hand and kissed it.

“My dear Buggy Bear. I love you and hate you with all my heart but.. Can I ask for a favor? If you gonna ask me to marry you, tell me more about yourself. Ok? So.. you know. There won't be any surprises later.” She took a couple more sticks of potatoes and put them in her mouth.

“What? Afraid of that one day I’ll run away and leave you with our ten kids?”

Catherine choked on french fries. “Are you crazy? We will never have ten kids. No…” She turned and pressed her back against his chest. “I’m just afraid that based on the information that suddenly came over me, one day you will be captured and put in some prison.”

Buggy scratched his head and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Well, I got out of an underwater prison once and I can do it a second time, I guess.”

“Holy crap, what?! You were in jail? For what?” She goggled at him.

“I'm telling you, I did a lot of things before we met.” He took and kissed her hand again.

“So you're not just a mentally unstable clown who runs the circus?” Catherine squinted her eyes, slightly pursed her lips and ran her hand through his hair.

“Na-ah!”

Catherine stared at him for a long moment and didn't know what to say back. She suddenly laughed, causing him genuine surprise.

“You're not running away from me screaming in disgust?” Buggy raised his eyebrows.

“Why would I run away? Are you still hoping to get rid of me? I have bad news for you, my silly clown. I'm not going anywhere.” She reached for the fries and put them in his mouth again. “Eat up. You've had a busy life and I love it. These are the things that make you special." She noticed his surprised look when she said the word “special”. “But you're gonna tell me everything one day, right?”

He kissed her temple. “Better give me some more fries, baby. It’s yummy! And from your hands it tastes even better.”

Catherine took one potato stick and put half of it in her mouth. “Take one yourself!” She looked at him intently and squinted her eyes.

He leaned toward her to take a second bite, hoping to kiss her and continue their evening as he wanted, but Catherine quickly grabbed a new potato stick and put it in his mouth.

“Ha! Gotcha!!” She chuckled and did a little victory dance with her hands.

“Little shit!” He hugged her around her waist tightly.

“Ok! Back to our business. I don't understand one thing. If it all lies in a building owned by these Baroque Works, why don't they go looking for this diamond? It's worth a lot of money.”

“I don't know. Maybe they don't even know they have the map.” Buggy rested his chin on Catherine's shoulder.

“Great! What are we gonna do? You're suggesting we break into a mob syndicate building, look for the map and cryptex, even though we don't even know exactly where to look.”

“Sounds cool, doesn't it?” He chuckled.

“No! Not cool at all, Buggy! Do you even think with your head once in a while? It's one thing when you're talking nonsense at home, but here–”

“Cathie-pie, don't forget you're with me! We don't need a plan!” He stroked her hands.

“That's what scares me, that I'm with you! And besides…” Catherine kept silent for a moment.

“What?”

“I'm worried about you now.” She took his hand and started running her thumb over his knuckles. “You said you have troubles with these mobsters, it's dangerous for you to go in there. They can't cut you up, but they can kick your ass or torture you. I don't want you to get hurt or.. to lose you.”

He hugged her tightly and kissed her temple. “Don’t worry, my cotton candy. I’m Buggy the Clown. And Buggy the Clown always gets out of trouble.”

“Maybe Buggy the Clown needs to stop getting into trouble?”

“How boring my life will be then!”

⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥫⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭⥭

“Either you and I are the luckiest people in the world, or I don't know how to explain it.” Catherine sat cross-legged on the hood of the car, staring at the copies of the pages. “Look. Apparently, this building keeps the map here.” She pointed her finger at the map. “It may or may not have been bricked up when the building was built. I don't know exactly. A circle with a line below is mentioned. This is Shen.”

“What the hell is this?” Buggy asked when he was rearranging things in the trunk.

“This's a protective sign on stelae or in tombs, and also as an amulet. And it was closely associated with many gods.” Catherine tapped her toes.

“Oh, no! No gods again!” Buggy grumbled loudly.

“We live in Egypt, my little bear. There are gods everywhere.” She stared at her notes.

“What about the cryptex?”

“I don’t know.. Let me see. I don't know. It's somewhere…under the floor?”

“What do you mean under the floor?” He walked up to the hood.

“Directly. Two lines and a circle. You see, two lines and a circle are drawn here. And apparently we need to look under this drawing.” She ran her finger over the drawing.

“Sounds like their sign.” Buggy crossed his arms and look at Catherine.

“Whose?”

“Baroque Works. Two crossed swords instead of lines and a skull instead of a circle. You know, in the spirit of pirate Jolly Rogers. Shit! I like that! You and I are just like Bonnie and Clyde, cotton candy!” He rubbed his hands contentedly.

“I don't want to be like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Why?”

“They were killed, Buggy. Anyway, what if the cryptex is not under this sign? I don't know when this building was built or when the cryptex was hidden there. I have one theory, of course.” She glanced at him. “Okay. So how do I get there?” Сatherine pointed at the large gray building near which they had been standing for a couple of hours.

“How do I get there? Have you lost your mind? You won't go there alone! No!”

“You won't go there either.” She called him with her hand. Buggy came closer to her. Catherine wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll find the map. I can handle it.”

“I know you can handle it, but I said no.” He stroked her arms. “There's no way in hell I'm letting you go in there alone. The conversation is over.”

“My hero!” Catherine hugged him tightly and glanced at him. “I love you.”

“Oh, my God. We're not dying! Why all the drama, Cathie-pie?” Buggy rolled his eyes.

“You spoiled my romantic moment, jackass.” She raised her head and straightened his ponytail with her hands. “So. What’s the plan?”

────┈┈┈┄┄╌╌╌╌┄┄┈┈┈────

“I don't even know how I got involved with you.” Catherine grumbled as they made their way through the underground passage. “Couldn't we have gotten to them some other way?”

“How? Through the front door? Oh, sorry, Baroque Works, we're looking for the map and the cryptex, can we come by your place for a couple hours and walk around the building. Is that how you envisioned it?”

“Oh, sorry. I bet you know better how to break into buildings, Mr. "You know, Catherine, I was in jail!” She imitated his voice.

“Quiet!” Buggy covered her mouth with his palm and looked up. “Do you hear footsteps? We're somewhere under the building.”

"Afhrjeen?”

“What?” Buggy turned around to her.

Catherine slapped his palm and pulled his hand away. “Where are we?”

“How on earth would I know where we are? We'll have to check. Wait here.” Buggy separated half of his body and reached up top, pushing back a small hatch.

“What's up there?” Сatherine asked in a whisper.

“The corridor.”

“Get me up!” Catherine continued whispering. Buggy gathered himself back, he placed one palm on top of the other and held his interlocked hands out for Catherine.

She climbed with her feet on his arms. “Why don't you use your chop chop thing and pick me up?” She watched him shrug in response. “Idiot!” She shook her head.

Catherine climbed through the trapdoor and found herself in a wide hallway decorated with large columns. On the floor she saw a red carpet.

“Buggy, where are you?” She leaned over to the hatch and gave him a hand.

“I'm coming.” He climbed out of the hatch and crouched beside her. “Further where?”

“I don't know! The notes said the east side of the building.”

“Where are we now?” He stood up and helped her to get up.

“Jesus, Buggy, I don't know!” Catherine grumbled in a whisper.

They heard footsteps approaching.

“Get back!” Buggy pushed Catherine behind a column. She pulled him by his pants toward her.

“Hey! Careful!!” He looked at her unhappily.

Catherine pulled him to her and glanced at his face.

“I bet you're getting turned on by all this!” Buggy winked at her.

“God, you're disgusting sometimes.” She rolled her eyes.

A man with two figures in the shape of swans on his shoulders and a fat tall man with the number 4 on his clothes passed by.

“Why do they look so weird?” Catherine asked in a whisper.

“Do you really want to talk about this now? Let's go!” Buggy took her firmly by the arm and dragged her behind him.

They tried to walk as quickly and inconspicuously as possible to the east side of the building.

“You know, I think there must be the cryptex around here somewhere. The buildings on the inside look like the ones the Tania communities built under the Pharaohs. You know, Cretan-Mycenaean cult and all that.” Catherine whispered and pointed at the walls and doors.

“I have no idea what you're talking about!” Buggy started grumbling and getting nervous.

“It doesn't matter. Listen, in buildings like this, cryptexes or something important was hidden in the central chambers of the chief lord. I wish I knew where the head lord's office was.”

“Over there!” Buggy pointed his finger at the door.

“How do you know?”

“Well, I was there once.” He shrugged one shoulder.

“Oh, my God!” Catherine squeaked loudly.

“Quiet!” Buggy put his hand over her mouth again.

They walked down the corridor, sometimes hiding behind columns so no one would see them. They were sneaking down one of the corridors when Catherine noticed the circle on the wall.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! We're close!” She quickly looked around the walls, peeked under the carpet, and looked at the walls again. “I don't understand. The map should be on the east wall. We're definitely in the east. It's still pretty early and the sun is still shining on this side.” Catherine felt the wall with her hands. “There must be some kind of ancient safe or something. It's the way they've always done it.”

“Maybe they moved it.”

“What do you think they were doing, tearing down the wall? No! The map's been buried here for a long time.”

“Dammit, someone's coming.” Buggy heard footsteps approaching and pulled her by the hand to hide behind a column. “Catherine, over here.”

“They're messing up the walls.” She pulled her hand away and began to move both of them along the wall.

“What?”

“They messed up the walls! Probably the building was built by people who don't understand geography.”

“I don't care about fucking geography! We need to hide now!” Realizing she wouldn't budge, he separated his arms and dragged her behind a column. “Are you even listening to me?” He looked at her angrily, attaching his hands.

As soon as the footsteps passed, Catherine looked around the spatialization once more.

“The office!!” She shrieked and rushed into the room.

“Сatherine, goddamn it!” Buggy rolled his eyes.

“Run to the other wall, look for the map. I'll look for the cryptex here.”

“No! I'm not leaving you here!” He ran after her into the office.

“The two of us can get out of here faster!”

“Are you kidding me? We're in the building of one of the most dangerous syndicates in the world! I said no!!”

Сatherine was poking around the office when a voice came from behind her. “Hey! Who are you??”

She froze and turned her head. Catherine saw a young man who wore a golden crown on top of his red hair and had number 9 written on his cheeks. He also wore a green suit with white lace along with a ruffled red scarf.

Catherine looked around the room but didn't see Buggy. “Fucking clown!” She thought.

“Me? Me..I'm your new cleaning lady. I'm cleaning up.”

“You're lying to me. Who are you?”

“I’m…”

He suddenly pulled out a bat and stood next to the table.

“Oh shit! You know it's wrong to hit girls, right?” Catherine took small steps backward.

“But you're not the girl, you're a thief.” He swung his bat in his hand.

“But still the girl!” She tried to look out into the hallway out of the corner of her eye and understand whether she would have time to get there somehow.

The man slowly walked away from the table. “Should I take you to our boss, baby?” Said the man.

Catherine was about to clam up but she saw a detached hand tap the shoulder of the man with the bat. The man turned around and a flying fist slapped him in the face and he fell to the floor.

“Shit, I hate it when someone other than me calls you baby!” Buggy crawled out from under the table and attached his arm back.

“Where have you been?”

“As soon as he came in, I hid under the table, but you didn't hear me or see me because you were yelling so loud that the whole building could hear you!” He came closer to her.

“I wasn't yelling, idiot! How could you leave me and watch that psycho threaten me?”

“I was right there!” He pointed to the table. “I was waiting for the right moment! Cotton candy, I realize you like to take it out on me but there's no time for our squabble. The cryptex, remember?”

“Right! Watch the hallway!” Catherine started to move the carpet, “Fuck! It's heavy. But the cryptex has to be here. It was always hidden in the center of the room!” She saw Buggy's hands helping her move the rug out of place. “I told you to watch the hallway. What the hell?”

She looked up and didn't know how not to laugh out loud. The body stood beside her while the head peered out the doorway. “You're amazing, my silly clown.”

They pulled back the rug.

Catherine looked closely at the pattern on the floor, it was faintly visible. “Look! Look! The drawing!”

“Better hurry up, because Baroque Works' agents could be here at any moment.” Said the floating head near the door.

“Yeah, yeah! Wait!" Catherine tapped the floor lightly. "It's moving! The drawing's moving! What was it like? Three east, two west, one east and one south.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It's a part of stupid old counting rhyme I read in a book about pharaohs and communities like that.”

“Jesus, have you ever had a life?”

“Shut up, clown!” Catherine rotated the drawing several times according to the words of the counting rhyme. “It's open! It's open!” She quickly put her hand through the gap. “It's gone!”

“What?” Buggy asked in surprise.

“There's no cryptex!”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I took it and then hid it again. Of course I'm sure. Where is it?” Catherine started crawling on the floor.

“Fuck the cryptex, someone's coming.” Buggy put his head back on his body and grabbed Catherine's arm. “Let's get out of here. We should at least find the map.”

“But-- “

“No buts. We'll figure it out as we go. If we get caught, trust me, it's gonna be bad.” He dragged her toward the exit of the office.

They both stuck their heads out the doorway and looked around.

“Where to now?” Buggy asked in a whisper.

“Well, if it's not the east side of the wall, we need to go to the west side. It's that way!” She pointed the direction with her finger.

“Let's hurry up then, shall we?” He grabbed Catherine and threw her over his shoulders.

“What are you doing? Let me go!” She started squealing.

“Can you stop yelling? Someone's coming this way!”

Footsteps and voices were getting closer by the second.

Buggy ran in the direction Catherine pointed.

She was hanging on his shoulder. “This is completely indecent, Buggy. I can see your ass.”

“Like you've never seen my ass before.” He grumbled and laughed.

“I hate you!”

They heard shouting coming from the office where they were a couple minutes ago.

“Ooh, this is bad. I bet they're sending their aides to search the whole building to look for us.” Buggy turned down another hallway.

Catherine tried to focus on the walls.

“Wait! Wait!” She started hitting him on the back. “The Shen!!!”

Buggy stopped and lowered Catherine to the floor.

She ran her hands along the wall. “Arrows. I got it! The arrows in the map weren't just arrows. There are serifs on the rocks. They need to be turned. Help me!”

The adjacent corridors were becoming noisier with each passing second.

“Catherine, honey, we don't have more than a couple minutes. Which way to turn?” There was worry in Buggy's voice.

“You turn these rocks, I'll turn these rocks. This way and this way.” She pointed in the right direction. “Ready? One, two, three!”

They turned the stones at the same time and heard a click.

“It's open!!! It's open!!!” Catherine put her hands on the rock with the drawning.

“Yeah, that's great. But hurry up!”

“Hey, you!” A man’s voice came from the hallway.

They both looked in the direction of the voice. The man with a number 4 on his clothes called out to them.

“Oh, my God. He's like an overgrown child!” Catherine's eyes widened.

“Shit!" Buggy pushed her behind a column and pressed the center stone.

The man rushed toward them. Buggy slipped his hand through the gap and pulled out a roll of paper from there. He quickly ran toward Catherine.

“Good news, my Cathie-pie. I stole the map. Second news, we have to run.”

13 notes · View notes

aricastmblr · 1 year

Video

viral.hiphop tiktok sale jimin ViralHipHop·

Behind the scenes of “ANGEL” music video.

@-BTS #-fypシ #-fyp #-jimin #-bts #-btsarmy

Brooklyn

original sound - ViralHipHop

BTS of “ANGEL”

https://www.tiktok.com/@viral.hiphop/video/7236446960348171563

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dumplingsfordays · 9 months

Text

in the willow wood, pt. 1

pairing - prince!gepard x elf!gn!reader (they/them)

genre - fluff

summary - pt. 1 - gepard, the son of a wealthy and powerful duke, meets an elf one day while hunting as a boy and his fellow hunters "arrest" (kidnap basically) them because they insulted the son of a high-ranking noble.

cw! : swearing, killing of forest animals (rabbits, deer, etc), mentions of blood, gepard's dad doesn't rlly care about him, serval hates her dad, belobog (with the exception of gepard and maybe serval) hates elves, reader is wearing a dress, reader is going to be wed in an arranged marriage to a random man, strangers to friends, reader runs away from their parents,

note : still held captive by writer's block :( school also started for me so I won't be posting as much. got the idea when listening to the Regal Ancestor Spirit ost from Elden Ring it's soso good omfg- anyways apologies for any mistakes I make in this fic, but always feel free to correct!!

artwork credit

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"Ha!" cries Dunn, who has finally shot his first rabbit.

His victory was accompanied by clapping from the other hunters, who came forward to encircle him in praise and laughter. Gepard also came forward, beaming at his friend's acheivement, and the two preformed their not-really-so-secret handshake with enthusiasm in front of the group.

"Can't believe you actually did it," the golden-haired boy said to Dunn after the initial excitement of the situation dimmed. "It took you a month. A whole month!"

"Not a whole month," Dunn retorted, cheeks blazing red in embarrassment.

"And for a rabbit!"

"Rabbits are hard to shoot, though! They're tricky little devils. They run and dip and swerve and it's confusing to even watch."

"Sure, sure," Gepard giggled, "you'd be confused if you found out that candles aren't little pieces of sunlight that we steal from the sun and keep for ourselves."

"Wait, they aren't?"

Oh, how he loved these moments with his best friend. These moments of bursting joy, of pure happiness, of melodic laughter - they brought a smile to his face every time that he reminisced with Dunn. Interestingly, most of these tended to happen while the pair went hunting in the lovely, serene woods outside of their kingdom. Hunting was one of those activities that never ceased to be fun, unlike horseback riding or sparring, and it was also a relieving little escape from the grey, cobblestone streets of Belobog. Ruled in part by his father, it towered in the distance as a constant reminder of what Gepard was always, and always will be, part of.

But he decided not to focus on that. Right now, the most important thing to him was to finally prove to the senior hunters that he was capable of hunting alongside them despite his young age of 16.

Previously, they told him that he was to hunt and kill a deer. Gepard was, at first, underwhelmed.

"Hunters do that all the time, and with relative ease," he had said to them before they entered the forest. "Why should this mean anything to you?"

"Because it isn't as easy as it seems," said a grey-haired one, towering over Gepard. "You'll know what I mean when you're about to kill one."

The boy took this reply with a grain of salt. Surely it was easier than that, right? The other hunters do it all the time and they always hit their mark. Their hands don't tremble, their bows remain steady - what is so hard about killing an animal? It's like a rabbit, just bigger, and it doesn't move nearly as fast. It usually stands there, and really, the only thing you have to do is to hit it in the leg or neck or something to make sure it can't run away.

But Gepard was now starting to doubt his previous feelings about the hunter's reply as he started nearing the spot where the group usually kills deer. He felt a sort of uneasiness - not the horrible one that he would get when entering abandoned ballrooms with their dark lighting and thick shrouds of cobwebs, but a gentle, quiet one. What if I wound the deer so it survives and runs away? Will it bleed out in agony, still living, or will it submit its life to him reluctantly, like a fallen champion, bested by the new?

He decided not to dwell on these thoughts. After all, this trial was going to determine Father's opinion of him, and maybe, just maybe, he was going to finally say "I'm proud of you, son." Gepard would fight for that chance.

"And here we are," said a hunter from the front of the group, donned in brownish-grey attire.

A mere 20 feet away stood an elegant, gorgeous deer. It was grazing, pulling the grass from the ground, and the clearing which it was standing in was framed by willow trees swaying gently in the breeze. When Dunn's foot beside Gepard's stepped on a dry leaf, the deer raised its slender head suddenly. It peered over to where the company was crouching behind some bushes, its wide brown eyes alert, and with a flutter of its eyelashes, it resumed grazing.

"Get ready," whispered a hunter beside the golden-haired boy. He nodded, taking out his bow and an arrow from his quiver, and, stepping behind a tree for cover, lifted his bow. Hooking the arrow on the string as gently as possible, Gepard raised the bow and aimed.

But before he could shoot, the deer lifted its head and looked over behind it, to the shadowy glen. From behind a willow in that direction emerged a hand, still gripping the bark, and then a bare foot, and then the whole, radiant figure. Its hair glimmered in the few specks of light that poured through the canopy, and the long, white dress that trailed after them hazily shone like thousands of pearls.

As the figure strode up to the deer in the middle of the clearing, they stretched their hands forward, and the slender animal slowly turned around and walked over to them. The person caressed its head and sighed.

"Oh, Isabella," they cooed, lowering themselves to the ground, the deer following suit. "How I missed you."

This felt like a scene from a storybook as the deer laid its head in the figure's lap, encouraging the person to keep stroking its head. They sighed once more.

"Mother is nagging me again about that man. I don't even remember his name! We met only once, and that was back when we were mere children - why should we be expected to love one another if we don't have understanding of each other? Why should we be forced to go along with this?" The person's voice rose in pitch and volume little by little as they kept talking to their friend. "And why do we have to be so young? You know that elves get married when they come of age, which is still four years from now for me and him. Even Mother was married at twenty, so why shouldn't I be? Why should I marry at sixteen, and her at twenty?"

Gepard had never heard a deer whinny before, but now he knew that apparently it could happen.

"I'm sorry, Isabella," the person sighed. "You don't want to hear about any of this. I know I've been talking about it for several weeks now, but no matter how much I do, my situation isn't getting any better. I really wish that there was some sort of escape."

The deer in her lap whinnied again and sighed.

"No, I can't do that. They'd find me immediately. The guards are a nasty sort, they sneak and snoop around like bloodhounds. And even if I do manage to run away, where would I go? You know how the humans are, and the dwarves are even more suspicious of us. Living on my own isn't an option, either - I'd probably die within a week." They ended their monologue with a dry chuckle.

Gepard couldn't believe that this was happening. Was this an elf? Throughout his entire childhood he'd be told stories of the elves and how selfish and prideful they all were, and how they were deserving of death - but did this elf really have to die? What atrocities could they have possibly committed? What selfishness, or excessive pride, was housed in this individual's soul? Was it really necessary to kill this deer, which was obviously their close companion, and cause them more grief than they are already experiencing? He just couldn't do it. No, he'd find another, different deer, and spare these friends the sadness of losing one another.

A scrape of wood on wood sounded through the forest's relative silence like the crack of a whip. The elf and the deer turned their heads to Gepard's tree, behind which the blonde boy was trying to hide his now-lowered bow and hold his breath.

"Who's there?" cried the elf, standing up. The deer's ears were erect and alert as it listened for further noise.

Gepard looked to the hunters in the bushes a few feet away from him - they were exchanging panicked expressions and sending a few angry ones his way.

"Come out!" the elf called once more. They began to approach the tree with cautious steps, wading through pools of sunlight, bare feet anchoring them to the grass so they could spring back at any sign of danger. "I won't hurt you. I'm not armed, either, so please come out so that we can resolve this peacefully."

The last word that they uttered struck something in Gepard. Yes, peacefully - violence or staying put won't solve anything. If he were to keep hiding, the elf would discover him anyway, and no trust would be established to justify Gepard having a bow in his hands. If he were to come out, to present himself truthfully, then maybe the elf would pardon him and let him go. After all, they seemed kind, understanding.

To the absolute horror of his companions, Gepard stepped out from behind the tree, bow in hand. Their eyes met as the boy neared the elf, stepping into the light.

"I'm Gepard Landau, of Belobog," he trembled. "I was- I was hunting in this forest, and I saw your deer and I wanted to shoot it and then I changed my mind, and-"

"You what?"

"I changed my mind! I promise! I don't want to kill you or your deer, I swear! Please forgive me."

The elf's eyes narrowed in suspicion. A human, a creature which their mother and father had warned them about ever since they was born, was standing right in front of them, begging to let him go. They'd developed a special kind of hate for humans and their stink, their brutality, and their heartless, seemingly everlasting hunt. But their mother and father surely weren't right about everything - after all, they were set to marry not according to custom, which was something that their parents definitely wouldn't do under regular circumstances. Maybe they were wrong about humans, too, but they wouldn't take that chance just yet. But then again-

"I've been told that your kind is despicable and utterly disgusting all my life, and you come into our domain to kill our companions? It seems like my suspicions about you are correct."

Gepard was full-on shaking now. He dropped his bow and raised his hands up into the air. "I promise that I come in peace. I don't wish to harm you or your people."

"What about Isabella?" the elf questioned further. "You would've killed her if I hadn't come. Is that correct?"

"Yes," the golden-haired boy breathed. "Yes, I would've."

His honesty is... admirable.

"But if I let you go, you promise not to harm me or her or any of my kind?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." The elf tilted tilted their head up to look at the dark green canopy of the forest, closing their eyes. "I'd like to add another condition, however - let me live in your home."

Every single person's (and Isabella's) eyes widened in shock. The hunters' mouths were agape in pure, unadulterated surprise, and even Gepard couldn't help but stare at the elf dumbfoundedly.

"I- well, um-"

"I mean, it's fine if you don't," they replied hastily. "But I-"

And then chaos erupted.

The hunters sprung from the bushes, bows ready to fire at the elf and their companion. Their eyes were hard and steely and they were ready to pounce.

"Damn pointies!" one yelled. "Always shovin' their nose where it ain't supposed to be. You'll get a home alright - a home in the castle dungeons."

It was the elf's turn to be surprised. The deer stood protectively in front of them, blocking them from potential arrow fire, but the hunters weren't exactly merciful people. They ran to the figure, wrestling the elf away from the clearing as the deer tried to fight back against the attackers. The elf screamed, a desperate, saddening cry, before being shut up by the hunters, and at this point, Gepard felt he had to do something.

He tried to reason with the hunters, but to no avail - the elf had apparently insulted them, and they were set on punishment. The deer kept kicking, so the blonde-haired boy attempted to soothe it, saying that its friend will come back as soon as they could, and that he would help them reunite. The deer, after some minutes, seemingly understood Gepard, and with a quiet, lonely sigh, walked off to the tree where the figure first came from.

The elf was now being carried by the hunters in a stretcher-like fashion through the dense thicket of the woods, the familiar sounds of crackling leaves and the occasional rustle ambient. Gepard leaned to his side to whisper to his best friend, Dunn.

"Do you think they'll be alright?"

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