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natromanxoff · 3 years

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An Exclusive Interview With Queen!

Music Life September 1975 issue

By Kaoruko Togo and Keiko Miyasaka

[Original text in Japanese, translation by deathtoming]

Around noon on July 14th, we left the hotel by car, and around two hours later we arrived at the beautiful Ridge Farm, surrounded by trees. We were blessed with clear skies on this day, and the blue sky and the greenery of the farm were almost blindingly beautiful. It was a bit past 2 o’clock. When we arrived in the main building, we were first greeted by a large dog, followed by a familiar voice from a room in the back. It was a large food hall, with Freddie, Brian, Roger, and John present.

When they see us, the four of them say, “Hello! You’re from Music Life, right? Welcome!” and greet us with handshakes. The four of them rented this Ridge Farm to focus solely on rehearsing for their next album. “We’re about to have lunch. Want to join us?” We knew we couldn’t work while hungry, so we accepted their offer with thanks. When the meal finished, we could begin our interview at last….

Music Life (ML): Are you in the middle of recording now?

Roger: No, we’re not recording yet. We’re all practising our new songs together. Once we practise them, we get an idea of how we should record them, I think.

ML: When do you think you’ll start recording?

Roger Maybe in about 3 weeks…

John: We might use Rockfield Studios in Wales.

ML: Do you always record there?

Roger: No, not really, although we did a bit of recording there for our third album, Sheer Heart Attack.

Freddie. We used around five studios to record that one. We’ll probably use several studios this time around, too.

ML: You’ll do a bit of recording in London, too, right?

Roger: Probably a little bit, yeah. We usually do our mixing in London.

Brian: But when we first record the backing track, it’s better to do it somewhere where we’re nice and settled, so it’s good to do it while we’re holed out in the studio. By doing that, we’re able to relax and do the recording.

ML: Can you tell us something about your upcoming album?

Freddie: Yeah, well we only have the rough framework at this point, but I think it will be our best work so far. We’re in the middle of creating the songs now.

Roger: Nothing has really come together yet, so it’s difficult to explain.

John: When we first came here we presented what songs we had written so far to each other, and we had about two albums’ worth, haha.

ML: I hear you’re heading to the US on tour soon.

John: Probably. Our manager is in the US now, and he’s apparently in talks with a bunch of people.

Freddie: We have to decide whether to record the album or go on tour in the US like we had decided during our previous tour.

ML: How long have you been working with your producer?

Freddie: His name is Roy Thomas Baker, and he’s been with us since our debut album.

Roger: We’re co-producing the album with him. Our next album will be with him, too.

ML: This Ridge Farm is such a beautiful place. How did you find it?

Roger: Our mixer, John Harris, found it. The owner often rents out this place to rock groups, apparently.

ML: When you write your songs, do you do it individually?

Freddie: Yes, that’s right. Everyone writes their own songs in their own homes, and then brings it to places like this and we all work on it.

ML: How many songs will be on this album?

Freddie: I don’t know yet. Maybe around 12.

ML: When will it be released?

Freddie: That depends on a lot of things. But I want it out some time this year. It will probably be by the end of this year.

ML: What have you been up to since you came back from Japan?

Freddie: For several weeks, we kept on talking about our time in Japan, haha. We’d unwrap the presents we got from Japan. Please pass along our thanks to our fans in Japan, because we were really treated so kindly.

ML: Is there anything that stands out in particular from your time in Japan?

Roger: Aside from the people we met, probably our final show in Tokyo. Something felt special. It was also our final show in Japan. The atmosphere was wonderful.

John: I also remember appearing in a kimono on stage for the first time in that concert.

ML: What about Japanese food?

Freddie: Like, tempura, haha. We went to a Japanese restaurant with our bodyguards in Japan. Oh that’s right, please send our regards to those bodyguards; we owe them a lot.

ML: What do you want to do the most the next time you’re in Japan?

Roger: I’m going to go shopping for sure, haha! Things like tape recorders and other things. Last time, Freddie bought lots of ceramics, and Brian and John bought cameras.

ML: Brian, you like cameras, don’t you?

Brian: Yeah, I do photography sometimes, and I have lots of other hobbies. Right now I’m really into audio.

ML: Since when have you been taking pictures?

Brian: Since quite a long time ago. But I only recently got a good camera. In England, cameras are so expensive.

ML: This is especially the case in Japan, but you have a lot of young girls for fans. What do you think about that?

Roger: It’s outstanding, haha! Japanese fans in particular give us lots of presents. We don’t get too many gifts from other countries, but it seems to be a part of the Japanese tradition.

ML: Among your young, female Japanese fans, there are some who say that Queen is their first encounter with rock music.

Roger: Great!

Freddie: That’s a good thing. It was really exciting when we were in Japan, and I think it was probably the same kind of atmosphere as it was for the Beatles in the ‘60s.

ML: Were there any interesting gifts from Japan?

Brian: I received a lot of birthday gifts, so thank you very much to all of you for those presents. I received many works of art, and also things like dolls and traditional balls wrapped with beautiful string. We got lots of toys, too.

Roger: That ball with the string was hand-made, right? I got one, too.

ML: In your free time, what kind of music do you listen to?

Roger: I’ve been listening to Led Zeppelin's first album.

Freddie: Lately, classical. Like, Chopin. Also things like Led Zeppelin and John Lennon.

ML: Freddie, you have a broad range of interests.

Freddie: Of course. I’ll listen to anything that I like. That said, there’s no artist whose album I’d buy as soon as it was released.

ML: Brian, what about you?

Brian: Pretty much the same as everyone else. I often listen to Led Zeppelin.

ML: There’s a place called “Rhye” in the lyrics for Lily of the Valley, but is that a real place in England?

Freddie: No, it’s a land from my imagination. It’s also mentioned in Seven Seas of Rhye, and I guess it’s like a fairy tale.

Roger: There is a place called “Rye” in England, although the spelling is different.

ML: Your songs’ lyrics seem to be influenced by classical poets.

Freddie: You’re referring to lyric poetry. I don’t think we’re influenced by that too much. Truthfully, I don’t have time to read. I just like expressing myself in that way. Those kinds of expressions are easier.

ML: Do the really passionate lyrics for love songs come from your personal experiences?

Roger: Ahhhh--!! Haha, yeah right! But I guess there’s, uh, a little bit of something in there.<Grinning> But Brian sometimes writes really passionate ones.

ML: She Makes Me is quite the song, isn’t it?

Brian: No, it’s not like that at all. <Acting quite bashfully> Although there are times when my personal experiences are expressed in song lyrics.

ML: The band does a good job recreating the sound from your records live on stage, don’t you?

Roger: We’re not trying to reproduce what you hear on the record exactly, though. Of course we want to produce a good sound, but on stage we also need to add an exciting mood to the quality of the sound. So that’s why it needs to be a little different from the album.

ML: Which do you like better, recording or performing live?

Freddie: I like both. They’re both interesting in their own ways.

ML: Do you use any special equipment on stage?

Roger: No, although Brian uses echo machines and such.

ML: Do you have a lighting technician?

Freddie: We do have one, but the band comes up with the idea, and our lighting guy -- his name is James Dann -- takes care of the rest. We’ve already come up with our next stage design and it’s going to be interesting.

ML: Killer Queen was a big hit single; are hit singles important to you?

Roger: It’s not absolutely necessary. But we’ll keep on releasing singles. Of course we’ll only release ones we like, though.

ML: Which do you like better, singles or albums?

Freddie: Definitely albums! I think our music is geared more towards albums rather than singles.

Roger: Rather than releasing single after single, it’s better if there happens to be a song in the album that works well as a single, and we release it if the timing is right. It’s not good if we start thinking we need to release a single every 3 months.

John: On this upcoming album as well, we will record everything first, and then release something if it works well as a single. But we don’t particularly record only songs that would work as singles.

ML: Does it seem like you’ll have another song like Killer Queen?

Freddie: No, when Seven Seas of Rhye became a hit in England, the people at the record company wanted our next song to be like that, but we couldn’t do it. We go in the studio and record what we’re feeling at that time, and only after everything is finished do we decide as a group what to release as a single.

ML: So, you’re always looking for a new sound?

Freddie: It’s more interesting that way.

Roger: That’s why we come to places like this, and while we’re rehearsing we make a bunch of noise and form songs from that.

ML: Did someone serve as an inspiration for Killer Queen?

Roger: Freddie’s mom.

ML: Do you have plans for a British tour?

Roger: Yeah. Probably by the end of this year.

John: But first we need to record our album, and we don’t know what will come after.

ML: Which country’s fans do you like?

John: Japan’s, of course, haha!

Brian: <Speaking seriously> We were really surprised by the reaction of our Japanese fans. Honestly speaking, we didn’t realize it was at that level.

Roger: We thought there would be difficulties because of the language difference, but rock fans are the same around the world, in the end.

ML: Did you have a break after you came back from Japan?

John: Just a little. But we had lots of preparation to do, so it’s like we didn’t have a break.

ML: And uhh… now I’d like to ask about things outside of the music. It’s something Japanese fans want to know: when did you fall in love for the first time? What kind of person were they?

Freddie: Err… our first love is, of course, music, haha.

ML: Do you have any memories from when you were going to school?

Roger: I haaaaated school!

ML: What about you, Brian?

Brian: I went to an all boys school. I had no idea what girls were like, right up to when I graduated when I was 18. It was really a shock when I first got to know girls. But that’s the British school system for you. I was raised away from girls for so long that I was afraid to meet them.

Freddie: You’re still afraid of them, aren’t you? Haha. <This was a tough joke>

ML: Freddie, what subjects did you like in school?

Roger Oh, I know! ”Needlework”! <Everyone bursts out laughing>

Freddie: Art. I studied graphics and illustration at an art school for 3 years.

ML: What about sports?

Freddie: I did everything. Cricket, tennis…

ML: Do you still meet up with your friends from school?

Freddie: I often meet with around two of them.

ML: And, finally, are you married?

Roger: Japanese fans often want to know things like that, but I won’t say. <Roger winks mischievously.>

Freddie: We’re all single! But the Japanese girls have to find that out for themselves.

ML: Let’s get a message from each one of you to our readers…

And with that, the friendly interview came to an end. We were fortunate that the band talked to us in a relaxed mood while bathing in the bright sun.

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon

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monst · 4 years

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Hi ❄️ may i request a fluffy sweet but steamy nsfw scenario where Hawks and his fem s/o have the same birthday? Like they want to spoil each other and treat them extra special on that day. My birthday is dec 28th and it’s the same as our bird Keigo’s 🥺 I’d really appreciate it if you write this!! Sorry if it’s not clear enough. Thank you and wishing you happy holidays! 💛

Birthday Surprise

Takami Keigo x Reader

Warnings: Sexy time actions! Nothing really kinky just hawks cooing :p Happy Birthday ^.^ To you and Keigo and, anyone else whose birthday is on the 28th of December! Also I’m so sorry this is late I uh may have been binging this show on netflix all day… I used to watch it as a kid and I geeked when I saw it there and watched all 20 episodes…….

“I’m so sorry I can’t be home earlier today babe. I got stuck with more patrol.” You heard your lover of five years apologize. You had to shake the excitement off your voice when you went to reply.

“That’s terrible Kei, but it’s the life of a hero and, I would never ask you to stop protecting the people.” you replied with faux disappointment.

“Thank you babe your so understanding.” He cooed. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. Happy birthday Angel face.” He chirped.

“Happy birthday you dumb bird.” You replied. And, with that the both of you hung up. You grinned to yourself while balancing the box on your hip in order to open the heavy door to the roof. As soon as you opened the door you were met with a landing Hawks. There was a basket secured in his arms and in his other hand he held a heavy looking bag. He was smirking at his phone when his feet hit the ground and then his golden gaze fell onto you.

You both looked at each other observing what the both of you held. It was then that the two of you broke out into laughter. It had seemed that the both of you had the same idea. He placed what he had in his arms down and opened his arms with a cute half-grin. You placed your box down before bulleting off into his arms. Your arms looped around him when you collided with him your legs hooking around his waist. His wings fluttered at the extra weight but his strong hands immediately held onto your thighs to hold you up.

You rested your forehead against his with a smile. He looked just as gorgeous as ever. Before you could continue your stere of adoration he raised the both of you up with a beat of his powerful wings. Your body tightened around him, face buried into his neck. You knew he wouldn’t drop you but, you knew he’d tease at it…

He nuzzled his face into your neck still chuckling at the coincidence and your reaction. The he spoke “So, what’s my little Dove doing up here?” He teased.

“Me?” You scoffed placing a kiss against his jaw. “What about you mister ‘I’m going to be home late, I got more hours of patrol’.”

“Well I never said which area I was going to patrol.” He sassed. “What if my patrol consisted of watching people from this building. Hm?”

“You dumb bird.” You laughed. “Then what’s all of that.” You accused gesturing to the items he dropped.

“Emergency rations.” He lied. “I’m a big bird now and need to eat.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing once his feet were back on the ground. You gave him a chaste his before you unlatched yourself from him.

“Your just gonna leave me with that itty bitty tease?” He pouted. “At least give me a proper kiss.”

“Nope!” You chirped heading over to your box.

“But it’s my birthday.” He whined a teasing grin on his face as he also picked up his goods.

“Well then birthday boy let’s set the mood for it first.” You snickered opening the door to the spacious greenhouse. It was obvious that the two of you had planned some sort of surprise for each other on the roof. After all it was where you met. Well officially met.

The two of you had lived in the same apartment complex for a while but that night you slapped him on the roof was unforgettable it was also the spark that ignited the flames of your relationship. It took a lot of work for the two of you to be together. Many cold nights on the roof were shared. Many stories told, tears shed and memories made.

It was during the year that the both of you got together that you decided to ask the landlord permission to construct a greenhouse. And, when the old geezer gave you the greenlight your plants blossomed much like the love between you and the winged hero.

You loved comparing your relationship to the greenhouse. It was a perfect connection because just as the greenhouse had required dedication, time, effort and accommodations and so had your relationship with Takami. It wasn’t easy but damn if the results for both of them weren’t incredibly beautiful.

Takami moved the round table in the center of the greenhouse to the side to make room for the blanket he had removed from his bag. “So little bird whacha got in your box.” He hummed pulling out a couple of electrical candles. You couldn’t help but snort as you pulled out fairy lights and a couple of lanterns.

“Same thing” You giggled. “I was going to bring the rest of the stuff up by parts.”

“So, we seriously planned the same thing?” He chuckled.

“Yup.” you grinned. “Picnic under the stars?”

“Picnic under the stars” He repeated. “We’re so original.” He teased.

“Hey! This wasn’t the only thing I had planned.” You defended.

“Oh yeah?” He asked taking the lights from your hand. He hovered off the ground to string them up as you pulled out the treats from his basket.

“Yeah?” You replied with a smile as you noticed he had brought your favorite goodies. “I had planned on preening you.” You saw how his feathers fluffed up at your words. He loved it when you did that.

“That sounds wonderful birdie.” He all but purred. Just the thought of your fingers running through his feathers made him shiver. “I had something else planned for you too.”

“Let me guess?” You plastered a thoughtful look on your face. “Massage?”

“We’re so predictable!” He hollered.

“Doesn’t make it any less sweet” You smiled kissing his cheek when he landed. “Dumb bird.”

“That’s offensive sweetheart~” He teased his hands immediately went to your hips to pull you closer pressing his smooth lips on yours “Angel you’re absolutely perfect.” He mumbled. You snorted. Takami was the biggest flirt you had ever had the fortune of meeting and he’d chat you up any second he got. You pushed his hands before they got frisky.

“Come on cassanova” You snickered pulling him down onto the blanket. “Let’s see if any of this actually tastes good.”

“Hey!” He laughed.

You swore that every second you spent with the golden haired man you fell even more in love with him. Throughout the night you were left breathless more times than you could count as you joked and feed each other finger foods. And when he pulled out the popcorn chicken you wheezed. Your man really couldn’t go a day without chicken. He just joked saying ‘it’s what put meat on my bones, the secret to my amazing strength lies in these suckers right here.’

Hawks loved to impress you with stories of his daily ‘feats of awesomeness’. And, as you both laid side by side gazing into the night sky he recounted story after story. You hummed along to all his asks about ‘and guess what happened next?’ as if you hadn’t heard all these stories billions of times. He never failed to draw peels of laughter from your lips at the comical way he told them.

“Okay, okay I’ve been rambling for hours angel but, I saved the best story for last.” He chirped bringing your entwined hands to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. Your face immediately felt hot at the first words that spilled from his mouth.

“It starts with me landing on the roof after a long shift. I was ready to hit the sack but this beautiful girl spotted me and thought I was a burglar.”

“Keigo no!” You squealed in embarrassment.

“Why not?” He chuckled “It’s one of my favorites.”

“You know why.” you moaned in shame.

“And when I stepped forward she mmmph” You had cut him off by straddling the hero and shoving his beloved chicken in his mouth. Takami’s eyes shone with mirth at the flustered look on your face. Your embarrassed face was enough to distract him from the discomfort of his wings being pushed against the ground. When he swallowed the morsel he spoke.

“I’m not sure if I like this new feeding method.” He quipped.

“Shut up!” You snorted. He sat up making you sit upon his lap.

“You know your being real mean to me on my birthday little dove.” He pouted rubbing his nose against yours.

“It’s my birthday too you brat.” You mirrored his pout pinching his nose playfully. He swatted your hand away with a breathless laugh. His gold eyes gazed into yours lovingly and he let out a content sigh.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you.” He sighed.

“Yeah. And, my heart skips a beat everytime.” You replied.

You both sat there in comfortable silence. You lay your head against his chest and from your position on his lap it was easy to wrap your arms around him. You let out a soft exhale as his fingers drew shapes into your back from the inside of your shirt. Your own fingers trailed up his back to stroke his red plumage.

The reaction on his end was immediate. His muscles relaxing as you thumbed the up his spine to the base of his wings. When you pressed against the area where his wings broke out from his back he let out a soft coo. He nuzzled his head into your neck as you continued to stroke the area. Your fingers threaded through the ruffled feathers and he let out a sigh.

“Your so sensitive Kei.” You whispered. He just let out another bird like chirp nipping at your neck when your fingers rubbed him the right way. Even though you were used to him reacting like that it never ceased to surprise you so you gasped at the pleasant sting. His lips were quick to apologize kissing the bites he gave you tenderly.

Your fingers went deeper into the crimson plumage and you felt him quirk his hips upwards. You hummed at the friction. You wouldn’t lie. His soft coos and moans had heat pooling at your belly. It seemed as though you weren’t the only one feeling hot as his hips grinded up into you. His hands were roaming your body squeezing your sides while his lips attacked your neck.

You tugged at a feather making him groan and thrust up roughly. Your felt your cunt clench in arousal. Soon you began to move your hips down on him.

“Kei~” You sighed grinding on the winged hero you looked down at him and moaned. His expression was the very definition of lewd. His flushed face and half-lidded eyes were gazing up at you in adoration and need.

“(Name)” He sighed tugging at your shirt. You easily complied to his silent request after all it was begging to get unbearably hot. Just as you were removing your top he did the same removing his coat and shirt in rapid succession. As soon as they were gone his lips were on yours. He made to devour you as his tongue in invaded your mouth, the muscles gliding over every crevice and stroking yours in play. Throughout the ordeal the both of you didn’t let up of your movements.

You could tell that if you continued the both of you would finish before it could get interesting. Especially with the way he was moving against you. You whined into his mouth as his fingers teased your nipples through your bra. The firm strokes shooting electric pulses up and down your body. He tore at the material when you rutted against him harder. His mouth latching onto the hardened bud of your left tit. You yelped when he bit down softly.

One of your hands continued it’s massage of his thick plumage while the other tugged at the thick strands of wheat colored hair. The groan that left his lips was enough to have you soiling your panties as you felt the gooey liquid of your arousal seep through the material. You felt one of his hands glide down your body to the hem of your jeans.

His fingers undid the button on your jeans and his fingers slipped under the fabric and under your panties. “Fuck baby bird.” He groaned into your mouth at the feeling your slick coating his fingers. “You so wet for me baby~”

“K-Kei~” You whimpered as his fingers stroked over your lower lips and up to your clit. His fingers teased your sex running up and down your folds and occasionally touching your senstive nub. Your grip on both his hair and wing tightened.

“Nngh” He mewled. “A-are you okay with this?”

“Keigo we’ve had sex before” You sqeaked as he easily slipped two fingers into your tight heat.

“I meant on the roof angel.” he hummed thrusting his fingers into you slowly relishing in the drag he got whenever he pushed them into you. Your pussy pulsed around his fingers trying to suck him in deeper.

“F-fuck yes on the roof Kei~” You whined as his figers curled inside of you immediatly finding the spongey area inside you that maximized your pleasure. “D-doesn’t matter I just want you. P-preferably now.”

“Preferably now.” He repeated with a lustful chuckle. When he pulled out his fingers you groaned but quickly lifted your hips to remove your jeans while he unbuckled his. Once the pesky clothes were out of the way you both sighed in relief. Before you settled back on his lap you pointed to the windows of the greenhouse.

“Look.” You grinned watching as his eyes lit up in amusement at the fogged glass. “Guess now we have a bit more privacy.” You joked.

“Not into being watched sweetheart.” he teased knowingly.

“Shut up and fill me up birthday bird.” You mumbled positioning your entrance over his length. He teased the head of his cock against your hole lubricating his throbbing length. You sighed when he rubbed circles with it on your clit. You were about to call him out on his tease when you gasped. You moaned at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. With every inch sheathed into you groaned. Once you met the skin of his lap you both sighed.

“You feel so good (Name).” He huffed his hands coming to grip your hips as you began to move. You lifted your hips feeling how his cock dragged against your slick walls only to drop yourself down allowing him to bottom inside you again. You continued to move falling into a comfortable rhythm while he lazily thrusted up into you.

“Mmm Kei~” You sighed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. It wasn’t long before you inscreased your pace. Everytime you came back down you’d grind your hips down on him to feel the friction against your clit. It felt amazing.

“Ah!” He always did this to you. Letting you ride him slow and deep till he took matters into his own hands. Or cock. The hard thrust he gave made your back arch your belly pressing into his toned abdomen. He gave another harsh rut into you and you squealed at the feeling. He settled into a hard quick rhythm. And, as he fucked up into you hard and deep you whimpered and moaned. He wasn’t far behind on the spectrum groaning and hissing into your ear with every thrust.

You felt yourself flush at the sound of him pistoning in and out of your sopping pussy. As if he wasn’t going fast enough his speed increased as he shifted to hit you at an angle that had you crying out his name. You could feel everything. His lips trailing kisses from your chest to your jaw, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass, the way the veins on his cock rubbed against your throbbing heat.

“Nnngh Keigo! Ah f-fuck t-there.” You whined biting your lip.

“Mmm You’re squeezing me so tightly babe~” He gasped grinding into you. He let out a grunt shifting so that you laid atop the blankets. Your legs were pushed further apart as he fucked you from a new angle and you couldn’t help the shreiks of pleasure that escaped your lips as he managed to hit a sweet spot deeper inside of you.

“You like that don’t you birdie” He groaned. “You love it when I fuck this tight hole of yours.”

“Yes! Oh yes Kei! F-fuck I love it so much~” you cried.

“Fuck your so gorgoues.” He moaned looking at your lewd expression. Your looked like a mess but, fuck if you weren’t the most gorgeous mess he’s ever seen. Especially since you were panting and moaning his name. When you felt his fingers press against your clit you squealed.

“M-more Keigo~” you panted your tongue rolling out of your mouth in your hazy state of lust. He wasn’t in a teasing mood and gave you what you wanted pressing down on your clit frimley while drawing figures around the pleasure giving nub. You felt your toes curl at the feeling and, soon you felt the coil that had been building in your core grow.

“Gonna cum birdie?” He grunted rutting into you quicker. “Cum for me baby. Cum on my cock sweetheart. L-let nngh let all our fucking neighbors know hah! Whose making you feel this good~”

With an arch of your back you felt all your muscles lock up as your came with a loud cry of his name. “W-what a pretty song~” He grunted chasing his own release as he felt your cunt spasm around his cock. The tightness of your pussy making his eyes roll back as he pumped into you a couple of more times before he released his hot mess deep inside your still convulsing pussy. He came with a choked moan thursting his seed into you deeper before stilling himself in order to catch his breath.

His body bent over yours so that he could rest his forehead against yours. When your eyes fluttered open you caught his golden gaze and sighed. He fluttered his wings cooling both of you down as you both just looked at each other. Your hands that had been gripping the sheet ran up to cup his cheeks.

“I love you Keigo.”

He leaned into your touch closing his bright eyes with a peaceful smile on his face. When he opened then you couldn’t help how your heart raced. The tender look in his eyes stole your breath away and he smiled down at you, you could have sworn he was a real angel.

“I love you too (Name).” He beamed nuzzling his nose against yours. “Happy birthday~”

If you thought that he was done with you then you miscalculated. The both of you were up there into the wee hours of the morning just basking in each others presence and indulging in each others skin. It was definitely one of the best birthdays you’ve ever had.

“You think anyone noticed?” You sighed curled up into Takami’s side.

“Well if those circular scuff marks on the glass are anything to go by then I’d say yes.” He mused. “Well I hope they enjoyed the show.” He laughed.

“Keigo!” You scolded.

“Kidding!…….Maybe…..Ow!”

#I'm sorry T.T I have no self-control #keigo takami #takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #Takami keigo fluff #takami keigo smut #hawks x reader #hawks smut #hawks lemon #takami lemon #bnha smut #bnha lemon #mha smut #mha lemon #keigo x reader #keigo smut #Happy birthday birb man #So....I deadass just realized it was supposed to be a scenario......

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blazerina · 4 years

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Surprise (Ethan x MC)

Word Count: 4,962 (omg that’s a lot)

Author’s Note: Okay so this is my “mature Ethan & Allie AU” where they’re already married and have been together for a little while. It eludes to some of my other Ethan & Allie stories a little bit and sets the scene for another more angsty Ethan & Allie story I plan to write soon. I had no idea how to end this so I’m sorry if the ending stinks. Hope this brings some joy to you as you read it – thank you to all of you for your support and encouragement regarding my stories.

**This story is dedicated to @noboundariesplease who became my 800th follower a few weeks ago!!**

@parkerattano @justanotherrookie @mrswalkerwritesagain – thanks for being my fandom besties!

A few of you asked to be tagged when I posted this story so here you go:

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Ding dong.

The echo of the doorbell rang out among the small, empty foyer of the two-story home that Ethan and Allie shared, just outside of Boston. Allie was in the master bathroom, her hair in large rollers, putting the finishing touches on her makeup; mascara wand in hand.

Waiting a moment to hear if Ethan opened the door, Allie let out a sigh and rested her hand on the edge of the counter in exasperation.

“Ethan? You gonna get that?!” She hollered.

The doorbell rang again at the same moment Allie went back to applying her mascara.

“Ethan!” She yelled again, tightening the belt on her robe.

Ethan’s head popped into view behind her in the mirror. Leaning in from the doorway with the phone glued to his ear, he silently mouthed the words I’m on the phone.

Rolling her eyes, Allie put the mascara down and went quickly to the door. A delivery man was standing on the doorstep, holding a basket full of cookies, with several colorful balloons attached.

After signing for the package and offering her thanks, Allie went immediately to the kitchen. Ethan was sitting at the table, still on the phone, looking out the window into their backyard.

“For you…” Allie smiled, placing the basket in front of him as he turned around.

He rolled his eyes and looked for a card. After reading it quickly, he tossed it aside, rolling his eyes again. Allie could hear the voice on the other end of the phone. This person was clearly frazzled, rambling on and talking at a rapid pace.

“I will not apologize for your lack of planning, Douglas. I have already been waiting two days beyond the deadline I originally gave you…you’re testing my patience and I already don’t have much…”

While Ethan continued on the phone, Allie poured him a glass of iced tea and set it down on the table in front of him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Ethan reached for her hand and kissed the back of it silently, looking up at her through his glasses with tired eyes.

Allie smiled and started walking backwards. Making sure she had Ethan’s attention, she mimed at her wrist, tapping it as if a watch was there.

“We need to go soon…” she reminded him, quietly.

Ethan nodded and then shooed her out of the room as his conversation increased his frustration.

“And I’m telling you that I will not have a diagnosis until I get those results…”

Allie and Ethan had been married almost 16 years now. Their relationship had weathered many storms at this point, but their connection to one another had never been stronger or deeper. Looking at the pictures in frames throughout their house one could see how their own love and affection for one another had grown. In the pictures from their first days of being together, their eyes sparkled and glistened. Photos from their small and intimate wedding ceremony showed true joy and happiness in their smiles. As the years wore on, they included other family in their pictures, pictures of Jenner alone in a field of wildflowers, and another new puppy, Chief. Nieces and nephews and cousins galore adorned the walls and shelves of their home. In each more recent picture of their life, their eyes were just as sparkling, smiles just as happy, but their faces older and wiser, and maybe a little more tired.

The couple had been through a lot together; it seemed as though from day one they would have more than their fair share of trials and tribulations. But through it all they managed to come out stronger with more love, devotion and appreciation for one another than either of them thought possible.

Allie was keeping an eye on the time, her stomach a bundle of nerves. She was working hard to ensure her lipstick looked just right, while also checking every other little detail of her makeup in the mirror.

Tonight need to be as close to perfect as possible.

Downstairs, Ethan furiously ended his call and slammed his phone down on the table with more force than he intended. He glanced quickly at the ridiculous basket and balloons, muttered a curse word under his breath and checked the time on the wall clock in the kitchen. He quickly realized he was running late and took the stairs two at a time to get changed.

Allie heard him enter their walk-in closet and called out to him.

“All done with that phone call?”

“I am.” Ethan responded, scanning his suit jackets for the one he had in mind.

“I cannot believe you made me go to the door in my robe with my hair in these curlers!” She teased, securing an earring in place.

“You can’t honestly believe that I was going to fall for that…” Ethan scoffed, talking to her through the closet as he began to change.

“Fall for what?” Allie asked, spraying perfume on her wrists and neck.

“Allie…” His tone came across as though he was admonishing her.

“I learned my lesson! I promised you that I would never, ever in the rest of our time together, try to surprise you with anything for your birthday ever again.”

“Well forgive me for being worried that someone dressed as a teddy bear or something equally as cliché and silly, was going to jump out from behind the bushes with a song and some chocolate. You’re very unpredictable, you know.”

“And you love it.” Allie retorted.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of them as Allie made her way to the closet, too. They danced around each other a few times, Ethan reaching here to grab a tie, Allie wandering over to her shoe selection, trying to decide which ones she wanted to wear.

Her eyes scanned the footwear choices before her and she mentally calculated the pros and cons of each, tilting her head in an analytical fashion, her eyes squinting as she thought to herself.

“You still have the curlers in?” Ethan questioned, almost completely dressed now, with the exception of his tie and jacket.

“I told you, I take them out at the very…last…second…” Allie reached for a pair of shoes as Ethan stopped her.

“Wear those instead…” He nodded in the direction of one shelf above the pair Allie was going for.

“Those are old!” She insisted. “You only like these because I was wearing them two years ago on our anniversary when we went to the opera and ate at the one place with the great steak and scotch – I can’t remember the name but you loved it…”

“So what if I did? It was a lovely evening and those shoes bring back good memories.”

“Maybe for you…” Allie’s eyes grew wide as she remembered the blisters they created on the heels of her feet.

She grabbed them anyway and gave him a sly grin.

“The things we do for love.”

After laying out her dress and shoes, she returned to the bathroom and started taking her hair down. Ethan was now sitting on the end of the bed, putting his shoes on, but stopped to watch her, mesmerized by her beauty.

He could only see her reflection in the mirror from the angle at which the bed was to the entrance of their master-bath, but he still couldn’t stop his own breath from catching in the back of his throat. Not a day passed when he didn’t wake up and consider himself the luckiest man on the planet.

Sure, time had weathered them both in certain ways – physically they both had more wrinkles and gray hair; but emotionally they had grown, developed and matured in their desire for one another and their need to rely on each other through all that life had thrown their way.

Ethan was not looking forward to the dinner they were attending tonight. Allie was the magnetic one – the woman who could make the cashier at the grocery store feel like she had known her forever. Allie was the one everyone wanted to be friends with and the so-called friends the couple did have, were only tolerant of Ethan. They were really friends with her, and he knew it. She had so much that he didn’t. He was in awe of her and admired her more than she was aware.

Allie’s long reddish-brown hair tinted now with a few streaks of gray, fell from each roller, across her shoulders and down her back. The soft tendrils were exactly the way she hoped they’d be – not too tight but not too loose. She was actually pleased with the way her look was coming together tonight. She then reminded herself that she needed to hurry.

Ethan finished putting his shoes on and straightened himself up.

“All right, I think this is as good as I’m going to get so I’ll wait downstair—”

“Wait – could you help me with my dress please?” Allie pleaded, exiting the bathroom and stepping into the closet, then emerging again with the dress already on.

She swooped her hair to one side and turned around in front of Ethan, a silent request for him to zip up the garment.

He could smell her perfume. The same perfume she had been waring for years. The scent that would forever and always remind him of her.

Without saying a word, he slowly closed the dress, his rough calloused fingers grazing across her smooth, silky skin. He lightly kissed the exposed side of her neck while running his hands up and down both of her arms. She turned around to face him and smiled.

“Please, darling. Promise me. Promise me tonight is just a dinner, our closest friends, a simple night out and NOT a birthday celebration.” His tone was soft but serious.

“You are really worried about this aren’t you?” Allie arched an eyebrow moving closer to him, her lips almost touching his.

“Allie.” Ethan sighed, eyes closing briefly. “I just don’t like surprises. My birthday is on a Tuesday which won’t be ‘fun enough’ for you, so I’m just worried you’re trying to plan something and make it amazing. You always have good intentions, but I never react appropriately and then I feel guilty and people are watching…”

She interrupted his stream-of-consciousness speech with her lips on his. It took him a moment to kiss her back, but he quickly melted into her touch on instinct.

“I promise I have not planned a birthday-related surprise for tonight. Relax.”

He let out a shaky breath and nodded.

“Okay then.”

“Now go get in the car, I have to reapply my lipstick already, thanks to you.” She swatted his behind as he walked away and he chuckled to himself, slightly relieved.

“This is where we’re eating?” Ethan questioned as valet circled the car and helped Allie out of the vehicle.

“Dr. Ramsey, Dr. Valentine – we’ve been waiting for you. Right this way.” An older woman with gentle eyes and white hair led the couple through the lobby of a very fancy hotel.

Ethan felt like everyone was watching them, but he stayed focused on trying to calm his own nerves. He wanted to trust Allie and not be paranoid about some crazy birthday plan, but he couldn’t help himself.

Allie held his hand and smiled at everyone that passed by. Her heart was beating fast too. Ethan could feel the pulse in her wrist as he clutched onto her for dear life.

“Ethan…” She whispered, “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed ahead of him, following the woman to a huge ballroom full of banquet tables. When the doors opened Ethan felt light-headed. Not one seat was empty.

Music was playing and there was a stage set up at the front of the room. The room was beautifully decorated and whoever planned whatever event Ethan found himself attending, obviously spared no expense. People had just begun to eat their plated dinners. It seemed as though a few less people paid attention to him now that he was safely inside the room.

His emotions were a mixture of relief and confusion.

Allie’s voice coaxed him out of his own thoughts.

“See?! Told ya. Nothing birthday related!” She kept hold of his hand and led him to a table closer to the front, where two seats had clearly been reserved for them.

Naveen and Harper were already at the table along with the chairman of Edenbrook’s Board of Director’s and the President of the hospital.

“I was wondering how late you’d be tonight, Ethan. The table was taking bets before you walked in with this lovely young woman on your arm. Does Allie know?”

Ethan pulled the chair out for Allie and relaxed a little more, now that he was around familiar faces. He still didn’t quite have any idea what was going on.

“Ha-ha.” Allie chimed in sarcastically, leaning over to Naveen and kissing him on the cheek.

“Lovely to see you all this evening – thank you for coming.” She added.

“No, my dear, thank YOU for making this event possible.” The chairman spoke up, nodding towards Ethan.

“If it weren’t for Dr. Valentine, we’d only see Ramsey here walking the halls of the hospital day and night. He’d have no real life to speak of!” Naveen teased.

As the table made feeble attempts at small talk with one another, people would come up to Ethan every so often and shake his hand or clap him on the back, telling him how good it was to see him here or offering their most sincere congratulations. Ethan tried his best to be polite but was quite frankly starting to get a little annoyed. He was hungry and irritable and already wanted to be left alone.

He always felt so awkward and out of place at these things. He never knew what to say or precisely how to act. Charming people and making idle conversation with them was not his strong suit. It was entirely out of his comfort zone. And what was worse, tonight, he clearly was already supposed to know what event he was attending or at the very least what was going on, however, he really had no clue.

Obviously there was no way that the Dr. Ethan Ramsey was about to admit to a table full of his medical peers, that he did not know what was happening or exactly what they were gathered together to celebrate tonight. To appear as though he had no answers was the worse possible fate he could imagine.

“Allie…” he whispered sweetly into her ear, placing his hand on her upper thigh, below the table.

“What exactly is going on? Help me out here…”

“Allie! I feel as though it has been forever since I’ve seen you!” Harper gushed, clearly, she had already had a few drinks and was feeling quite conversational.

“It has been!” Allie engaged with her but then quickly responded to Ethan between talking with Harper and the rest of the table.

“You’ll see.” She pecked him quickly on the lips leaving him stunned and puzzled. He could not for the life of him figure out what any of this had to do with him.

Allie knew he’d never ask anyone else at the table what was going on. She had him right where she wanted him. He knew it too and he hated her for it.

As hard as he tried not to get mad, he felt anger rising in his chest. He always struggled when he didn’t feel in control. When two plus two didn’t add up to be four, he had a very difficult time adjusting. Everyone was being nice to him, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Was this some kind of party?

Ethan took a few shallow breaths and pushed through, talking to those around him and grasping for Allie every chance he got, in a respectful and not attention-seeking way. Little touches here and there left her connected to him. She was what kept him grounded and he needed her desperately tonight.

He was continuing to get old. He saw it in the mirror as it reflected his own face every single day. This birthday coming up was just another reminder of how much life had been lived. The depth of the few relationships he had and the stark reminder of what he lacked, always hit him square on, around this time of year. Birthdays were not and never would be his favorite.

Dramatically, he began thinking of how betrayed he felt by Allie. She had duped him once again and led him on. How could she promise him she hadn’t done anything when clearly this whole thing had been executed flawlessly? She was too smart. She knew he wouldn’t blow up on her here, in front of people.

He then began looking around at the decorations, the food, the stage, this lavish hotel he’d only been in once before, and the dollar signs began adding up in his mind. Now suddenly worried about how much she had spent on this over-the-top soiree, he needed to excuse himself and go get some air.

He slowly released his grasp on Allie’s hand, and sheepishly removed himself from the table.

“Ethan, no. Sit down. You can’t…you can’t leave right now.” Allie smiled as she instructed him, but her tone was serious.

“Alexandra, what in God’s name is going on? This is ridiculous that I cannot even…” Ethan was interrupted by a man on stage and he quickly took his seat, not wanting to make a scene.

Through clenched teeth, he leaned over to Allie once again.

“You promised me.” He hissed, beginning to seethe with anger. He thought after all this time she would know him better than this.

“Is a slideshow of my life going to start playing soon? Clowns and confetti coming through in a second? All these people?! Allie, come on!”

“Hush.” She put a finger to his lips, remaining calm. “Pay attention.”

“…it is with that in mind that we take time tonight to pay honor to a man who really needs no introduction…”

“Is that the Governor of Massachusetts?” Ethan gawked. “You got the governor…”

“Put these on.” Allie slid his glasses over to him with a smile. “Yes, that’s the governor. Now hush and listen.”

Ethan was totally put out at this point, but put his glasses on and sat back in his chair. He was frustrated. His leg was bobbing up and down unconsciously. He had nervous energy. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get up and run out the door. He mentally noted the exits in the room. How fast could he make it? He was a little sore from his run earlier this morning but with this much adrenaline, surely, he could…

“Leading the nationally renowned diagnostics team at Edenbrook hospital has been the bulk of his responsibility for the last 25 years. Under his leadership, this team has brought great prestige and esteem to Edenbrook, to Boston and to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Not to mention the incredible notoriety and hundreds of millions of dollars of revenue that we have all benefitted from, due to his excellent work.”

Ethan paused, sitting up straighter, starting to put the pieces together.

“His colleagues from across the country have gathered here tonight to celebrate his contributions to the medical field, but tonight I want to celebrate his contributions to our state and to our community. There will be time for more accolades as the evening continues but first, and foremost, let us celebrate him and hear what he has to say.”

Allie squeezed his hand again, beaming with pride.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct honor, pleasure and privilege to be able to introduce you to our guest of honor tonight. Please join me in congratulating this year’s recipient of the Massachusetts Medical Society Lifetime Achievement Award, Dr. Ethan Ramsey of Edenbrook Hospital.

The room erupted in applause with some people whooping and hollering. Immediately everyone sprang to their feet, even Ethan. For a moment he wasn’t sure if he had to go on stage or not, but it became clear that there was an award he needed to accept and most likely a speech that would been expected.

Stunned and feeling as though he was floating on air, he quickly made his way up to the stage, hoping no one could see that his hands were shaking a bit. He shook hands with the governor, took his award in both hands and immediately looked out among the crowd.

Ethan tried to scan the faces, wanting to soak in this moment – he was stunned and still unsure if he was really awake. While he tried to focus on the faces and really see who it was who had come out to support him, his gaze was instantly drawn to one and only one person in the room.

Allie wiped tears away from her eyes quickly, wanting to keep her emotions at bay. The only thing she felt in this moment was immense pride, and maybe a little bit of satisfaction in pulling this over on her beloved. Standing and still applauding, she looked up at him in awe. Awe that he was hers. Not that his accomplishments and professional achievements weren’t worthy – but the only thing he was to her in that moment was Ethan. Her husband. The love of her life.

“Please.” Ethan cleared his throat as he spoke into the microphone, both his heart and mind racing.

“This is quite enough, please sit.” He instructed a little more forcefully.

Allie led the group in finding their seats as a hush fell over the crowd, waiting to hear from the man they were all there to honor.

“I know this will come as a shock to most of you who know me well, especially those who work with me on a daily basis…but I’m finding myself speechless at the moment…”

Ethan chuckled as did the rest of the room. He bit his lip, locking eyes with Allie and shaking his head, grinning and smirking, a combination of the two.

“I had no idea, absolutely no clue that this was happening tonight. I’m blown away by your support and your presence here tonight. I…uh…” He cleared his throat again, then looked back out into the audience.

He found Allie’s eyes, and also his words again.

“I do not take this award lightly and it truly means so much to me. I don’t know that I like the fact that I’m old enough now to be receiving lifetime achievement awards, but I am grateful, really. I love what I do, I’m fortunate to have a wonderful job that keeps me guessing every single day; really great co-workers, at least most of the time…” Again, the audience laughed.

“I get to teach med students in their first years of residency, and then you know, help save people’s lives. It’s actually surreal that this is the life I get to live.”

Ethan took a deep breath, biting his lip and trying to measure out his next statements carefully.

“As great as all of that is, I know that there is absolutely no possible way for me to be standing before you tonight as the person that I am today, without the love, devotion and care of my wife, Allie Valentine. She’s my Rookie.”

He paused, looking down, one hand finding his heart as he became overcome with emotion. He took several seconds to gather himself, he wanted to stay composed.

“I was actually pretty upset with her tonight for dragging me here and not telling me what the hell was going on. Even though all the things that have been written about me and said about me are true, and my accomplishments have garnered our entire team with a lot of recognition and such, I am most proud of being her husband.

Why she chose to settle down with a grumpy old man like me, I’ll never fully understand…but everything I am and everything I have today is completely because of her faith in me and her ability to make me the best possible version of myself.

When we met, I thought I would be the one teaching her everything she needed to know, but in the end, she has taught me more than I ever taught her.”

Allie’s eyes were filled with tears, she could hardly look at him without feeling as though she was going to burst with pride. She blew him a kiss from her seat and wiped away more tears, not daring to let them fall down her cheeks and ruin the makeup she tried so hard to perfect earlier that evening.

“I feel like I’m Rambling Ramsey up here so I’ll wrap this up - I could go on all night telling you about what Mrs. Ramsey means to me, what this award means to me, but I’ll stop here. Thank you again and please, I want to work the room as they say and thank all of you personally so come find me and…really, sincerely, this means so much to me. Thank you.”

Before he knew it, Ethan was swept away for pictures, people swarming around him, talking to him, handing him scotch after scotch, as it was well-known to be his drink of choice. It felt like at least an hour before he made his way back to Allie. She had just finished speaking with the Governor, when Ethan snuck up behind her.

Immediately, she turned and wrapped her arms around him.

“Happy Birthday, my love!” She whispered in his ear.

“I cannot believe you did this to me…” He said seriously, looking in her eyes. “I hope you know you’re going to get it when we get home.” Ethan teased.

Laughing, Allie picked her glass of Prosecco from the table and raised it towards him in a mock toast as she wiggled her eyebrows and walked towards the open bar.

“Was already planning on it…” She muttered under her breath as she watched him walk away.

“I heard that…” He called out over his shoulder.

Throughout the night each one of them independently visited with people, giving them their sincere thanks and letting them know how meaningful it was to share this evening with them. Every few minutes or so Ethan would find Allie or Allie would find Ethan and they’d give each other a quick squeeze of the hand or a kiss on the cheek as they brushed passed each other and moved on to the next well-wisher.

“I don’t know what she sees in you…” Naveen said to Ethan as he took a swig from a beer bottle, nodding towards Allie who was across the room. “She’s perfect.”

“No doubt about it, I’m the lucky one.” Ethan agreed as Allie sauntered over to the two of them.

“This cannot be good.” She laughed, pointing at them both. “What are you plotting?”

“You’re the schemer.” Naveen chided. “No one could have pulled this off better, my queen.”

Naveen pretended to bow before her with both arms raised above his head while he bent at the waist.

“Oh stop.” Allie waved him off.

“It looks like this crowd is thinning out and if I stay in these shoes much longer my feet will need to be amputated.”

She leaned on Ethan, stifling a yawn.

“I know a guy who can help with that…” Naveen offered, finishing his drink.

“You really know how to throw a birthday party!” He added, following Ethan and Allie out to the valet line for the cars.

“It wasn’t a birthday party!” Both Ethan and Allie said in unison, Allie’s brow furrowed in mock anger.

Naveen begged for forgiveness and said his goodbyes while the couple waited for their vehicle to be brought around. As they sunk into the vehicle, beyond tired, Allie immediately kicked off her heels and Ethan loosened his tie. He threw his jacket into the backseat along with Allie’s shoes and rolled down the windows a bit for fresh air.

“Before we get going…” Allie put her hand on his as it rested on the gearshift.

“I know I said no more surprises – but you can’t be mad at me because this technically wasn’t a birthday surprise it was a general surprise and I knew that if you knew they were giving you an award you’d come up with some excuse not to go and I just couldn’t live with myself if you didn’t get a chance to hear all these people tell you how amazing you are because I know you’re amazing and I tell you all the time but sometimes you don’t believe me.”

She stopped to take a quick breath.

“So, I hope that tonight you know just how many people agree with me that you’re incredible – so please, please don’t be mad. I don’t want to ride all the way home with you in silence because I pulled one over on you.”

“Whoa. Allie. Calm down.” Ethan reached out to her and held her face in his hand.

“I’m not mad. It was a great surprise and…”

He reached across the console and kissed her hard, passionately, with so much force that his lips burned her skin.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She whispered.

He laced his hand into hers and held it all the way home, staying the way they had been all the years of their relationship and even in little moments all night long…connected, grateful and in awe that somehow, someway they had found each other and were never ever letting go.

#blazerina babbles #ethan x mc #mc x ethan #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey fanfiction #dr. ethan ramsey #dr ethan ramsey #open heart #open heart fanfiction

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thestarkerisobvious · 4 years

Text

Sixteen - The Masked Librarian

amazing art work by @starker-sorbet A snugglefic for @mrstarksbabyy

Sixteen

1 The Masked Librarian

After his sixteenth birthday, Peter used his birthday money to buy several notebooks and spent the summer filling them up with the facts he had gleaned from Tony, along with the books he had gotten from the libraries. For fear they would be found, he wrote a lie in bold marker on the covers:

Novel Ideas:

Ideas for a Novel

Putting a timeline together with the information he got from Tony was impossible. Tony was far more concerned with his duties around the farm than who was actually ordering him around.

Peter’s constant questions finally made it clear – Tony had never been terribly concerned with whom he was serving, as long as he was fed and had a job to do. Who was the son, nephew or uncle or son-of-the-uncle of whom ultimately did not concern him. The title of “Master” wasn’t even passed on directly from father to son in every case, although it was, Peter finally ascertained, only given to a male blood relative of the original Post homesteader. There were other problems, too, with the things Peter was being told. Tony had no interest in years or wars or anything in American history that Peter could plot along a timeline. Peter quickly learned there was no point in asking “which war?” Tony had never understood which wars were which, just that men sometimes left for them. To Tony, all the wars were “The War.” To further complicate things, Peter strongly suspected that New York City was referred to as “New Amsterdam” by the Post family long after it was really called something else.

What he could find in the libraries was sparse. The best he could find was the same stories they had been told when they bought the house: that two Post brothers had come from Germany and married a woman who was related to the royal family in Portugal. That the boys were always taught German in honor of the patriarchs and the girls Portuguese, for the same reason. That a Post had been a famous hero in the Civil War until he died by Direct Encounter With A Cannonball. No other details.

Until the 1920s. That’s when things got interesting.. The Post Homestead, at one time, had been a type of artist colony, which was to say, the sprawling Post family were famous for inviting artists to live, sometimes for years, as guests in their multi-generation household. This had started out as a series of artisans hired to tutor the multiple Post daughters. Over the decades this had become a tiny thriving community. Mostly painters and sculptors, according to the books, but there were musicians too. This had caused a conflict between the Post family and the town – for a period of the time the Post Homestead had been bringing in jazz musicians at great expense, much to the delight of the tiny artistic community. To the town at large, not so much. (Those of the African American persuasion were welcomed to come and work in Devil’s Hollow, but not “let the sun set” upon them. The Post Family apparently did not share those same reservations.)

What happened after that was hard to piece together. Tony wasn’t around to ask, and even if he was, he might not have known the answer. But the death of Jedediah Post certainly must have been a turning point.

Or maybe it just seemed that way to Peter because that was the most newsworthy event he could find. Jedediah Post was a man of considerable wealth, and left a great deal of it to the towns around him, as well as three different museums in New York City. But none to Devil’s Hollow. The amount of art the family had amassed was significant, including paintings, sculptures and something called “art deco” which, as far as Peter could tell, involved a lot of very fancy furniture. The donations were large and it was easy to track down stories about them. Some of the museums in New York City he had even been to, although he had never seen the art in question (he was more of a Science Exhibit man himself) but some Aunt May had seen.

The breadth of the donations was breathtaking, but mostly Peter’s research turned up bitterness and resentment. Jedediah Post had left nothing to the Devil’s Hollow library, nor the museum (there had been one in those days) nor the school. Apparently After-You-Die Donations had been a local phenomenon in Devil’s Hollow, particularly from the Post family. That ended, it appeared, with Jedediah.

Was there a reason? Did Jed Post attempt to create an artistic community at the Post Homestead, and resent the town’s undue influence on whom he was allowed to invite? Or did he simply make more friends outside the boundaries of the town than in? And was that why the sprawling Post family all relocated elsewhere? Whatever had happened, sometime in between the 1930’s and the 40’s the last Post son was living there completely and utterly by himself.

Was he hated by the townspeople because he was a hostile misanthrope, or did he become a hostile misanthrope BECAUSE he was hated by the townspeople? Whatever had happened, the Post estate had gone from a busy, noisy, bustling place to a house with one resident.

Evan Post.

Evan Post… and Tony.

When Peter wasn’t pouring over his books he was remembering what it was like to be wrapped up in the arms of the thing that lived under the bed. Which reminded him of his promise to the thing that lived under his bed. He took long walks daily, getting sunlight and climbing every available surface that looked climbable, doing all those things that he had been promised would make him “healthy.” Exercise by itself was boring, but the further he could walk the more wildlife he could observe. The higher he climbed, the same. Aunt May started to call him “The Spider” as he came home daily reporting all the wildlife he had observed from dizzying heights. The exercise did him good, it made him hungrier at night and soon he had grown several inches and put on more weight. He admired himself in the bathroom mirror, he enjoyed standing on the scale. He was proud of his new body.

He couldn’t wait to show Tony.

The long walks into the forest and the many hours sitting in trees gave Peter time to think about what life had been like for his friend in the years between Jedediah and Evan Post. Which led to even weightier thoughts about what life had been like for Tony in the years between life in the monastery and life with the stylite Simeon the Elder.

Primarily, Peter thought about Tony, and what Tony liked to eat.

In the monastery, it appeared Tony and the others (the ones he called “us”) were fed just like guard dogs. Or more correctly, like hellhounds. They were fed on cattle and “infernal vapors” and, on rare occasions, people. All until he was sent to live with Simeon on a pillar where he learned how to feed entirely on feelings.

Peter went over it in his head many times, the things Tony had said about Simeon and his other monk-lover, the one he had left behind without a single thought. Simeon he had loved, Peter was sure of it. “I was his beloved,” Tony had said. (He had also spoken about touching, about pretending to be shy, about needing to be ‘taught.’ Peter tried not to think about that, but he did. He thought about it a lot.)

It was true, Tony might have loved Simeon the same way he loved the fields of cattle being raised to feed him, but he loved the man nonetheless. Spent 12 years with him on a pillar, when he was supposed to be convincing him to return to the monastery. Protected his ability to ask questions. Took away his hurt and his desire to hurt himself. Lived on that, and nothing but that, until the day he was forced to kill the man. That was something he could not control, Peter was certain, any more than he could control being after “sent into the ground.”

The next thing he knew, he was working in the New World. Was he fed with farm animals, too, working on the farm as he did? The only thing Peter could think of was the roaring twenties and the artists that lived and created at the Post Homestead. The layout of the little artist colony was easy to see from his vantage points in the tops of trees or in his hiding place in the empty barn. Barns, silos, and animal stalls had been razed and almost a dozen cottage-like guest cottages built by Jedediah in his day, only to be raized to their foundations by Evan decades later. Had Evan despised growing up in that cacophony, unable to find a quiet place to himself, destroying all vestiges of it in his old age? Or had he treasured that life, growing up in the safety of his title as son of the lord of the manor, removing the artists village when he finally understood he would never see the likes of it again? Had he hated people as an old man because he had hated people all his life? Of had he considered the composers, painters and sculptures the ‘normal’ people, and hated the people of Devil’s Holler’ because they were anything but normal?

Even knowing what Evan Post had done, Peter could still sympathies. He himself had to go to school with boys his age who complained that the “for’ners, n-words and queers” were taking over the country, while he sat in silence and day-dreamed about the day he could go to college in New York City and be surrounded by “for’ners, n-words and queers” again.

Peter tried to picture it, sitting up in a tree and observing the whole of the Post Homestead. A little village of people, creating, despairing, hoping, disappointing, arguing, loving, scheming, fearing. And Tony underneath it, grazing on it all. Tony spoke of feeding from artists after the work was done, or else the work would never get finished. Did he know it instinctively? Or did he learn through trial and error? How much art was never complete because he fed too soon? It couldn’t have been much, the finished artworks that DID come from the Post Homestead were legion. Did the artists even know they were feeding Tony their light? Was it voluntary? Mandatory? Tony remembered a grandmother that called him “a musa,” The Muse. Did they think Tony was the cause of the art that was produced in this place, or did they realize he was simply growing stronger from it?

And where did the money come from? The Post Homestead was an actual farm, and then one day it wasn’t. Were the artists all brought here because Jedediah Post was a very rich man, and knew what he wanted to spend his wealth upon art? Or did Jedediah invest his money into feeding Tony, which in turn made him a very rich man?

And how difficult was it for Tony, feasting on the light of sculptors, painters and controversial Jazz musicians, to learn how to live on nothing but the hate and fear of Evan Post? What did that turn him into? Tony readily admitted that he had driven off everyone who had come to live in the Post Homestead before Peter’s family, driving them away because all he wanted to drink was fear. Couldn’t stop seeking out fear, causing the fear, even when he realized his own greed was driving away his only source of food.

And he had tried to inspire fear in Peter and his little family of three, Peter remembered. When his quiet family moved into the vast house they decided, that very first night, that there was a good reason why the Post Homestead was considered haunted. Their quiet country home was anything but quiet. It wasn’t as noisy as their New York City apartment, of course, but still not quiet. Not only did floors creak and doors slam in empty rooms, but entire wings groaned and floorboards squeaked in the exact rhythm of footsteps. The wind howled under the porch like an angry monster. The first night in their new home not a single member of the family slept a wink.

So, naturally, the little family sat at the breakfast table the next and formulated a plan – a research plan. That very day they set out for the tiny town library, got library cards, and searched out books on architecture. When the library proved lacking they drove to the next town and did the same. Soon Peter had a pile of books to read and May and Ben set out to fix up their Still-Quieter-Than-New-York-City farmhouse. Peter found the books fascinating, had read them to May as she worked in the kitchen or Ben as he worked on the fences, but when those two ran him off he mostly he found himself reading out loud to himself in his room.

And, just like that, the noises quieted down.

The wolves, too, that had howled with alarming frequency when they first arrived (alarming because they had been assured there were no wolves in the woods anymore) dried up the very weekend Peter had come home with an armload of books about canines. At the time it seemed to Peter that he had superpowers. Whatever alarming phenomenon their haunted house produced, Peter could make it go away just by researching it. He joked about it with Aunt May as he read to her about plumbing at the breakfast table (the obvious reason for the growling sounds coming from the basement.) She called him “The Masked Librarian.”

Now, he realized, he had been doing something else entirely. Tony had lived on a diet of fear. But Peter was only providing Tony with questions, the joy of gaining new information, followed by more information. The thing Tony called “light.”

Sometimes Peter wondered if Tony would be happier in a household with more emotional displays – Peter knew that “light” was not simply the positive emotions. In addition to fear and hate, Tony fed on anger, sorrow and righteous indignation just as well. But Peter’s little family had certainly put Tony on a strict diet. May was stubbornly, sometimes grimly, cheerful whereas Uncle Ben raised his voice so very rarely Peter could remember every single instant. Peter was by far the most emotional of the trio, reading books about pollution that made him cry, about endangered animals and acid rain that made him so angry he felt like punching the walls. Tony had requested all of those kinds of books, had requested laughter and tears and anger and questions.

Had requested everything but fear.

He had described Peter as ‘fearless,’ and in many ways that was true. Maybe Peter had inherited some stubborn, determined optimism from the same ancestor as Aunt May, or maybe he had learned it hanging onto her apron strings. In any case when he had first discovered that there was a voice talking to him from under his bed, fearlessness and determination had certainly served him well.

But now that the thing that lived under his bed had a name and a backstory, Peter certainly felt some real fears creeping in.

Especially as the season that Tony had told him to wait for came creeping in, a sixteen-year-old Peter was aware of some budding feelings. His body, he was told, would be changing. He thought he was prepared for that. But he was finding, much to his alarm, that his brain was changing too. Watching the foxes chase rabbits from his perch high in a tree, or watching the owls devour their prey whole from his hiding place in the barn, Peter poked at those fears gingerly, teasing around the edges.

All his life, it seemed, pretending the fear wasn’t real had served him well. Now he wasn’t so sure. Normally, when Peter Parker was alarmed by something, he looked it up at the library. But he wasn’t sure there were any books on this subject.

So he did the only think he could have done, he reviewed it in his brain. Reviewed everything he knew about Tony. Everything he knew about the thing that lived under his bed.

As he went over the story in his mind, he found himself with two things that he decided not to label ‘fears’ after all. He decided it would be more expedient to label them ‘regrets.’

Alright, three. Maybe four.

#The Thing That Lives Under The Bed #Demon!Tony #But not THAT Demon!Tony #Starker #thewitchway writes stuff

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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All the Beautiful Pieces (Rated NC17) Chapter 10

Blaine Anderson is spending the summer after graduation flipping houses with his brother for Cooper’s total home renovation show. The show features the worst houses Cooper can buy, with Blaine playing the role of lackey so that Cooper can torture him in front of his viewers. The last house Blaine has to renovate is an original Victorian House in San Diego, CA, which is in terrible condition. But this house turns out to be more than just another job. It was once owned by a famous Vaudeville ventriloquist by the name of Andrew Smythe. It houses a very interesting collection of items - among them, two life-sized puppets. Blaine isn’t sure exactly why, but he’s drawn to them - especially to the one with the beautiful blue eyes. He convinces Cooper to give him the puppets, and Blaine starts to restore them. In the course of the restoration, Blaine finds out that neither puppet is simply a run-of-the-mill puppet, and Andrew Smythe was hiding a secret that will be the key to saving two lives.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 10 (7470 words)

A/N: Warning for a few dated homophobic slurs. I am determined to take the time during this quarantine to complete this re-write and finish the story. I hope that you join me on this little adventure. :)

Driving with Kurt turns into a major distraction for Blaine as the blue-eyed puppet stares up at the sky through the open window and sighs every five seconds.

“Oh, Blaine” - Kurt closes his eyes against the wind as the minivan breezes down the highway - “it’s nothing like I remember it.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Blaine asks, sneaking a peek at the puppet pulling his head in from the open window.

Kurt presses the button to close it, shutting it half way, then presses it again, lowering it an inch. He has developed a fascination with the buttons and switches that control things in the van – the door locks, the window switch, the seat adjuster. It had been adorable to watch Kurt spend the first five minutes of their trip swaying back and forth and up and down as he adjusted and re-adjusted his seat over and over.

“Both,” Kurt concludes after a pause. “I mean, I’m all for progress, and highways and tall buildings are a part of human civilization moving forward, but I don’t know …” He gazes out at the edge of the highway, where store after store and building after building blurs by. “There’s just something to be said about driving slowly down a dirt road and hearing the gravel underneath the tires, the birds flying overhead, seeing houses surrounded by green grass, cows grazing, and a chicken coop in the front yard, white picket fences, laundry hanging from a line …” Kurt sighs again, probably his hundredth sigh in the last half hour. But it’s peaceful, and Blaine knows he’ll never get tired of it. “I think I’m just an old-fashioned, silly romantic. The world has changed so much since I last saw it. I think I’m going to spend a lot of time playing catch up.”

Blaine wants to reassure Kurt that playing catch up in this new time period will be easy, but he bites his lip to stop himself. It won’t be easy for Kurt. Blaine knows it. And patronizing Kurt won’t change that. He comes up with something instead that he hopes will mean more to Kurt, give him something more substantial to hold on to.

“However long it takes,” he says, “I’ll be here to help you.”

Kurt’s glass eyes reflect the sunlight and blue sky overhead, making them look like they’re swimming with unshed tears. “Really?”

Blaine smiles. “I promise.”

As they turn onto Harbor Drive, Blaine’s eyes shift periodically to Kurt’s face, trying to gauge his reaction to returning to the house where he had been trapped for so long. But as they approach the old Victorian, Kurt settles back against the headrest and closes his eyes.

Blaine doesn’t ask. He understands.

Kurt isn’t ready to see it.

Gary’s U-Haul is parked by the curb out front. Standing beside it are Gary and two other men he brought with him to help. The first guy, Ted, Blaine knows. He’s a few years older than Blaine and studying occupational therapy at San Diego State University. Ted met Gary years ago when Ted was on the search for a porcelain doll for his mother for her birthday. It turned out that authenticating vintage dolls was a hidden hobby of Ted’s, and the day he walked into Gary’s shop, he rescued Gary from spending a fortune on dolls that turned out to be incredibly well-made counterfeits.

The other gentleman – an older man – Blaine doesn’t recognize. He’s standing off on his own reading a hefty, leather-bound book, while Gary and Ted talk over their game plan for the rest of the toys in the house. This man couldn’t be any more different from Gary and Ted if he tried. Where the other two men are wearing polo shirts and jeans, this older man is wearing a three-piece suit. He’s trim and tall, with generous flecks of silver interspersed in his stark black hair. Narrow reading glasses sit perched at the tip of his long, thin nose. His lips move as he reads, ignoring the other two men and their constant jabber.

From the looks of things, only Gary and his crew have arrived so far, which means everyone else would be showing up later on, while Blaine is inside the house and Kurt outside. Blaine hadn’t anticipated that. Usually everyone on the renovation team gets to a project house early. He doesn’t want anyone bothering Kurt when they arrive.

Blaine leans over to Kurt’s seat. “Okay, I’m going to be a couple of hours, but I’ll be in and out, so I’ll check in on you to make sure you’re alright.”

Kurt doesn’t open his eyes but he smiles, turning his face in the direction of Blaine’s voice. “Oh, Blaine, you are a gentleman. But don’t worry too much about me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Blaine looks at Kurt’s face, serene and sparkling in the daylight. He’s staring, he knows it, but he can’t help it. Kurt is such an attractive puppet. He has such a kind and honest face. There are many compliments Blaine could give to Kurt in that regard that, unfortunately, wouldn’t be compliments at all. Blaine could say that Kurt is beautiful, which he is, but that might be more a comment on the masterful way he was made, and therefore a compliment to Andrew’s workmanship. Blaine would rather cut out his tongue than compliment that monster. Blaine could say that Kurt is handsome, as he was in all of those black and white photographs Blaine saw, but that would be a compliment to the person he was.

A person who doesn’t entirely exist anymore.

Whoever Kurt is, whatever he is, whatever miracle brought him to be, Blaine adores him - shamelessly so.

Of all the crazy, outlandish, off-the-wall things that could happen to Blaine, he has a thing for a puppet.

Go figure.

“Blaine?” Kurt whispers, his smile growing wider. “Are you planning on leaving anytime soon, or are you going to stare at me all day?”

Blaine’s cheeks go from tan to scarlet in award-winning time.

“I was … I was just wondering … uh …” He clears his throat “… if you’re going to be okay sitting here, or if you need a book to read or something.”

Blaine clamps his jaw shut when he remembers the only things he has in the van to read are the journals in the trunk.

“I’m fine,” Kurt assures him, “except …”

Uh-oh … he does want to read. Shit!

“Except …” Blaine repeats anxiously.

“If you can maybe find me some paper and a pencil? I would like to sketch.”

“Sketch?” Blaine mentally breathes a sigh of relief.

“Yes. I design clothes.” Kurt sounds contrite, like he’s apologizing for this thing that he enjoys, and Blaine longs to ask him who might have given him the impression that designing clothes was a bad thing. Kurt’s mother doesn’t sound like the type to discourage her son from a hobby like sewing, and Andrew, for all his faults, included a sewing machine in Kurt’s room, so it couldn’t have been him.

“Of course,” Blaine says, opening his door. “I’m sure I can dig some up. Give me a moment.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kurt hums as he reaches for the button to recline the seat. “Take your time.”

Blaine hops out and shuts the door behind him. Cheers and applause go up from Gary and Ted, who wave his way, hooting and hollering like the over-excited fools they are. Blaine smiles and waves back, heading for his trunk.

“I’ll open up the house in a second,” he calls out, knowing that Gary is drooling to get his hands on the rest of those toys. Blaine admires Gary really. He’s living his dream - he owns his own business, makes enough to support himself in an expensive city like San Diego, and most importantly, he enjoys what he does.

If Blaine can achieve half of that, he’ll consider himself fortunate.

Blaine knows he has a notebook somewhere in the trunk, but with all of the things he’s packed and unpacked in the last few days, he doesn’t know where it ended up. He rustles through the usual automotive junk – first aid kit, jumper cables, a bottle of Armor All. He comes across a roll of paper towels and a half used bottle of Windex that he doesn’t remember ever seeing , but there it is, and it reminds him of the posters hanging in the kitchen – the ones with dust caked on so thick Blaine couldn’t see through it. He pulls them out, keeping a hold of them while he keeps looking. Underneath the backseat he finds his notebook, with a pencil shoved inside the spiral rings. He grabs it along with the three journals, hiding them strategically between his body and the cleaning supplies. He closes the trunk and walks over to Kurt’s window.

“Here you go,” he says, laying the notebook on the lap of the resting puppet.

“Thank you, Blaine,” Kurt says with eyes still closed. “Now go. I’ll be fine. I promise.” And he blows Blaine a kiss.

Blaine feels it land against his cheek as if it were a real, palpable thing.

“Alright, Kurt,” Blaine says, noticing how Kurt’s smile grows when he says his name.

Blaine heads to the house, gesturing to the other men with one wide wave. All three men look at Blaine’s van as they pass. Though none of them are close enough to peek inside and see Kurt stretched out in the front seat with his eyes shut, they must have caught a glimpse of him because he’s the first thing Gary mentions as Blaine starts unlocking the house.

“So, you’re driving around with them, Blaine?” he asks, sounding disturbed but amused by Blaine’s choice of company. “Is this a legitimate obsession, or just an attempt to defraud your way into the carpool lane?”

Blaine decides not to argue with Gary, knowing he’s mainly teasing him.

“You know, Gary,” Blaine says, sticking a key into the front door, “as an adult man who plays with dolls, I would think that you, of all people, might understand.”

“Wait,” Ted says. “You guys aren’t kidding, are you? You brought the puppet with you, Blaine!?”

Blaine turns and shoots Gary an accusing glance as the door swings open and he leads the trio inside.

“You told him?”

“I’m sorry, Blaine,” Gary says, not sounding sorry at all. “It just … came up.”

“What in the world were you guys talking about that the subject of my puppets came up in conversation?” Blaine props the door open, then starts pulling the drapes.

“Cheeseburgers,” both men answer in unison, leaving Blaine to shake his head.

“You took one of the puppets?” the older man sneers, speaking for the first time.

“Blaine” - Gary steps in before a potential argument breaks out - “this is Alex Norton. He specializes in Vaudeville culture, and he’s very interested in the puppets.”

“I purchased two of the puppets,” Blaine clarifies to the man staring him down through the wafer thin lenses of his spectacles, “from my brother, who owns the house and everything in it.”

“So, you purchased them without knowing what they’re worth?” The man’s nostrils flare with contained anger.

“I paid quite a bit for them,” Blaine says in his defense, swallowing a comment about the loss of his paycheck. “I’m pretty sure my brother got what they’re worth.”

“Like I said,” Gary interrupts, “he didn’t buy any of the franchised puppets, just two handmade puppets that were trashed in the basement.”

“Made by the original owner of the house, yes?” Alex over-enunciates each word, unnecessarily in Blaine’s opinion. “Andrew Smythe?”

Blaine bristles at the name. “What difference does that make?”

“That makes the puppets of historical significance.” Alex straightens, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Therefore, I will need to see the puppets.” Alex stares at Blaine, waiting to be lead out to his van, Blaine assumes.

“No,” Blaine says.

“No?” Alex repeats contemptuously, his glasses beginning to slide their way back down his nose.

“No.” Blaine stands firm. “You are free to see any puppet in the house, but those two are my personal property. They’re not available for you to see.”

“They are the only existing examples of Andrew Smythe’s attempts to make human-sized puppets,” Alex argues, leaning in in an attempt to intimidate him.

“Too bad,” Blaine says. “You can’t see them.”

Alex stares at Blaine and Blaine stares back, the air between them electric, waiting for a spark to set it off.

“Okay, guys,” Ted intercedes, hoping to diffuse the tension, “we have a lot of work to do. If Blaine doesn’t want to show off his puppets, he doesn’t have to.”

Alex’s upper lip curls, baring his teeth. He knows he’s lost, but his eyes darken nonetheless.

“Fine,” he says, the word a growl inside his locked jaw. He stands up straight, fixes his glasses on his nose again, and walks off as if he knows where he’s going.

Blaine watches him carefully, concerned with how comfortable he seems in the house.

“I apologize about that,” Gary says. “He’s … really passionate about his work.”

“Apparently,” Blaine says, thankful that Kurt is safe in the minivan outside, and that even Sebastian is securely locked up in the beach house.

“Come on.” Gary claps Blaine on the back as he eyes the man heading for the hallway. “Let’s get to work so I can get these glorious tin toys back to my shop.”

Blaine peeks out the window to make sure Kurt can’t be seen, then heads off down the hallway himself. He holds his head high as he passes Alex on the way to the dining room, barely giving the man any berth as he hustles by. Alex grumbles something beneath his breath, but Blaine doesn’t pay enough attention to pick up the remark. He heads straight for the posters hanging on the dining room walls and begins spraying the glass with Windex. He puts his books and supplies on the table and waits as the blue liquid cuts through years of grease and grime, spreading through the muck like fingernails scraping it off. He sprays each poster frame a few more times before he starts tearing paper towels from the roll and wiping, cleaning the glass completely before he steps back and takes a good look at them.

He was right in assuming they were theater posters – twenty in all, each one hung in order showing the rise and fall of “The Great” (a superlative he adds in his head with a sarcastic snarl) Andrew Smythe. The poster on the far left starts with Andrew’s act listed at the bottom in the tiniest type conceivable. As time progresses, Andrew’s listing on the bill rises. His act becomes ‘Andrew and Sons’, written in larger and larger typeface until bam! There he is - his face big as life. And even though his act is still titled ‘Andrew and Sons’, the picture on the poster is of him alone with a puppet sitting on his lap – Sammy, more than likely. A couple more posters have his face on them, but then a new face takes its place and his act, now listed as ‘The Great Andrew Smythe’, shrinks back down the list of names until it’s barely legible.

“Ah. The demise of The Great Andrew Smythe,” a nasally voice echoes through the room. “Tragic.”

“Yes,” Blaine says, “if you believe Andrew Smythe was great.”

Alex tilts his head and stares at Blaine aghast.

“He was one of the greatest performers of his time.”

“Maybe, but he was a crap father.”

Alex jerks back, scrunching his nose as if he’d smelled something offensive when Blaine opened his mouth. “How could you possibly know that?”

Blaine shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes flicking subconsciously to the journals on the table. “I’ve been doing research.”

“Well, did your research tell you that being a good parent wasn’t a pre-requisite for being an excellent performer? Nobody in particular cared how he treated his children.”

Alex makes this statement with such an absence of emotion that it feels like a slap in the face.

“To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t care less about Andrew Smythe or his precious act.”

“And yet you apparently spent a considerable amount of money to purchase two of his rarest puppets, which are now so important to you that you won’t let anyone see them.”

“That’s my business,” Blaine says, wanting a quick end to this so he can find a quiet spot and start reading the journals.

“And what about these posters?” Alex asks, pointing to the walls. “Are they to become victims of your indiscernible personal collecting habits, too?”

“No. They’re being donated to the San Diego Historical Society for their exhibit on Vaudeville,” Blaine says with a sardonic twist to his lips. “I hear it’s excellent. Very informative. You should go check it out.” Now would be nice, he thinks. He picks the journals up off the table. Alex watches him, zeroing in on the books in Blaine’s hands as if he recognizes them.

“What are those?” he asks, reaching out a hand like he’s planning to grab them away, but Blaine pulls them towards his chest.

“Homework,” Blaine answers sharply as he brushes past, heading down the hallway and back toward the living room. He decides to plant himself next to the living room window and wait for the other members of the team to arrive. With Alex in the house, Blaine needs to keep an eye on Kurt. He can’t see Kurt from the window because the puppet is lying back in his seat, but Blaine’s not taking the chance of Alex slipping out unseen and harassing him.

He leans his head against the glass and looks at the journals, trying to decide where he wants to start first. Figuring that going in order will be less confusing in the long run, he opens the journal dated 1924.

March 5 -

Dear Margaret –

Our little nine-year-old is quite the recluse. He also has one hell of a left hook, and because of that we are no longer with the Henderson and Co. traveling show. That’s alright, though. I always thought they were stealing from the till, anyhow. So what if it took their little bastard Billy getting a black eye for us to leave that roadside freak show? I know that traveling can be hard on Sebastian, but I think it’s just because he misses you that he acts out this way. He needs a friend. Hopefully we can glom on to another traveling show that has kids down the line. Who knows what will come our way? I love you and miss you always.

July 6 –

Dear Margaret –

I think I might have found the solution to the problem with our Sebastian … and his name is Kurt Hummel. We just finished a show in Columbus, and on our way through Lima, we found him. Well, Sebastian found him. He’s not much more than a slip of a boy, with the thickest head of brown hair you’ve ever seen, but he’s clean and polite and has a voice like an angel. If I didn’t know better, I would say that Sebby was quite taken with him. He was probably just blown away by this kid’s talent like I was. But there’s something different about this boy. He’s special – not only his voice, but the way he behaves, as if performing isn’t something he does, it’s something he is. I’m hoping that his father will let the boy come with us. I introduced myself, told him my piece, but the man became suspicious as all get out. I could just let the matter be, but I really think having Kurt in our act would be a God send. Wish us luck, Margaret.

July 30 –

Dear Margaret -

By golly, it worked. My sweet new acquisition has tamed your unruly son. The two rug-rats are thick as thieves. It’s almost like having you back here with us, Maggy. He cooks, he cleans, he sings all the time. From morning to evening, he fills the house with music. I feel bad for his papa though - losing a wife and now a son - but I promised the man I’d raise his son proper. Maybe with his talent in the mix we’ll finally make it to Europe like we always planned. Can’t you just picture it, Maggy? Headlining in Paris?

“Hey, Blaine,” Gary calls, his arms wrapped around a box filled with carefully wrapped metal toys, “aren’t you supposed to be filming us or something?”

Blaine doesn’t look up from the journal when he reaches a hand into the pocket of his pants and pulls out his webcam. He switches it on and points it in Gary’s general direction. Gary chuckles.

“You know, Cooper’s going to be pissed,” Gary says, adjusting the box in his arms and heading for the door.

“Yeah, well …” Blaine lets the comment die off as he closes the first journal and opens the second one.

March 14 –

Dear Margaret -

Boy, that Kurt is sharp as a pin. Every day he spends with us, I learn something new. Here he’s been with us for almost a year and I didn’t know he spoke French. Says his mom taught him when he was little. She must have been one hell of a woman, just like you, Maggy.

August 21 -

Dear Margaret -

I was a little worried taking Kurt on that he’d be sort of … delicate. You’d understand if you saw him. But he’s no nancy, I’ll tell you that. Kurt and Seb got themselves into one heck of a tussle the other day – the two of them against four older boys, all of them a foot taller, and boy oh boy, did Kurt lick ‘em good. Of course, I told them that I wouldn’t stand by fighting, not while we’re trying to make a respectable name for ourselves in the higher paying houses in town. And I disciplined them. I didn’t lay a hand on Kurt. It don’t feel right giving a hiding to another man’s son and besides, I’m pretty sure it was Sebastian’s mouth that got them into all that trouble, so he got a few extra lashings with the belt to teach him. But you would have been so proud to see that boy handle himself.

Blaine winces as he reads. He knows that Kurt, Sebastian, and Andrew lived during another era, in almost a completely different world. The twenties erupted in the middle of a turbulent time in American history, but that’s no excuse for the way Andrew treated his son – or the fact that he replaced him.

Blaine switches to the last journal – 1928. He does the math – if Sebastian was 10 in 1924, he’d be around 14 in 1928.

February 22 –

Dear Margaret -

Those two boys are inseparable. They go everywhere together, and they’re so similar, they could pass for brothers. So I call the act ‘Andrew and Sons’ now. It’s worked out well for us so far. The burlesque houses hire us for their matinees. It’s good to have a family act to offset the bawdier performances. With our name on the billboards, it keeps the Fuzz off their backs and we get a higher percentage of the pot.

Blaine skims through a few entries, stopping off and on when real life intervenes. He’s interrupted first by a phone call from the storage company, rescheduling again for the following day, and then by Alex when he boldly tries to read over Blaine’s shoulder. Gary swoops in and rescues Blaine by telling the dreadful man that he and Ted are ready to pack up the puppets and they need his help with the values. Alex gives Blaine a stern glare before he hobbles off after Gary and Ted.

Blaine turns to the back of the book, trying to find an entry that he saw earlier and thought looked promising.

October 15 –

Dear Margaret –

I wish you were here. It was the darndest thing. I went out to the shed behind the house and saw Sebastian kissing Kurt. It wasn’t brotherly nor friendly neither. It was a real, honest-to-God kiss. I’m not surprised with Kurt. I kind of suspected that his tastes tilted that way, so that doesn’t bother me. He’s a smart boy, and if that makes him happy, then so be it, but not Sebastian. I’m not raising a cake-eater. But it’s an easy fix. I’ll whore it out of him. I know you wouldn’t approve, Maggy, but there’s nothing else I can do. He turns fifteen come January. I’ll plan for then. In the meantime, I’ll have to find a way to keep them apart.

Blaine closes the journal. He’s had enough. He blinks his eyes, spots and shapes dancing in front of him as he recovers from Andrew Smythe’s wretched penmanship. He looks out the window in time to see Kurt raise his seat. From this distance, Kurt doesn’t look like a puppet. With his head titled, his eyes shut, a small smile curling his mouth, he looks like a human boy.

Blaine sees a car from another pawn shop pull up out front, and he runs to meet them with his webcam switched on. After Cooper’s demeaning phone call, Blaine isn’t too concerned with getting all the shots he claims that he needs, so he plans on only taking enough to keep his brother off his back. He ushers the men into the house and directs them down to the basement, filming as they look over the large tools and equipment, deciding what they can realistically sell. It takes a while to interview these new guys since they’re so focused with the job of rifling through the power tools, plugging each one in to see which ones work or not. As soon as Blaine gets the bare minimum of shots that he needs, he races back up the stairs, taking a brief shot of Alex discussing what looks like the last of the puppets with Gary and Ted, and then heads for Kurt sitting in the van.

“Hey,” Blaine says, trying to sound nonchalant while panting uncontrollably, “I came out here to make sure you weren’t getting too hot or anything.”

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt the sun on my face?” Kurt sighs. “Or the wind?”

“I can only imagine.” Blaine cocks his head. “Do you feel it now?”

“Not really,” Kurt says, the smile on his lips taking a wry quality. “But I can remember them better when I’m outside than when I was locked up in the dark.”

Kurt’s comment tugs at Blaine’s heart. Tears prick his eyes at the thought of this beautiful boy locked up, shattered to pieces on that cold, damp floor, and he has to look away. He glances down and sees the notebook he gave Kurt open in his lap, the pencil stuck back in the spiral spine, two sheets of paper covered in drawings. Kurt didn’t sketch clothes like he’d said, but the living room and dining room of the house, drawn the way they might have looked when Andrew bought the place. Blaine stares in awe at the intricate details of the embossed wallpaper, the grain in the wood floor, the furniture, down to the tiny touches – portraits on the walls, statuettes on the mantel, books in the bookcase, and the tools by the fireplace, arranged so purposefully that Blaine can tell which one gets the most use by how it leans slightly while the others stand perfectly straight. Even the light streaming in through spaces in the drawn curtains gives hints to what time of day it is.

“Kurt … your drawings … are they of this house?”

“Sort of.” Kurt closes the book, keeping his eyes staunchly shut, and hands it to Blaine. “It’s a combination of the house we lived in with Sebastian’s dad and this one the few times I saw it.”

“They’re amazing,” Blaine says, thumbing through the pages. Kurt has sketched each upstairs bedroom, a bathroom, and also (Blaine discovers) a few outfits. They’re an older fashion, a match to the time period Kurt lived in.

“Thank you,” Kurt says.

“I’m close to wrapping things up in there,” Blaine mentions, setting the notebook back on Kurt’s lap. “We’ve probably got around another hour or so. Did you think about where you might want to go after this? The movies, maybe?”

Kurt raises one eyelid and peeks at Blaine.

“Do you think there’s some place we can go and see the sky?”

Blaine nods.

“I think I know the perfect place.”

***

“I’ve missed the beach so much,” Kurt says, sitting cross-legged on the retaining wall. His eyes travel up and down the shoreline, watching the white caps of the tide curl into the sand.

“Me, too,” Blaine agrees, his own gaze following Kurt’s.

Kurt turns and looks at Blaine. “But, don’t you live here?”

“No.” Blaine coughs, the confession he should have made before tickling the back of his throat. “Actually, I’m from Westerville, but I live in Lima.”

Kurt gasps, throwing both hands over his mouth. “You’re kidding!”

“Nope.” Blaine takes out his cell phone and opens his photo gallery. “Here. Take a look.” He scoots closer to Kurt so that he can better see the pictures on the screen. “These are a few of my friends from high school.”

“Where do you go?”

“McKinley.”

“Hmmm … must be new,” Kurt says, watching Blaine swipe the screen and change the photo.

“This is the Auglaize River last winter. The Glee Club went skating there over break.”

“That’s quite a handsome young man you’ve got your arms around,” Kurt remarks dryly, eyes darting away from the image of a tall blond grabbing Blaine from behind. Blaine smiles at the jealousy plain in Kurt’s voice.

“That’s my best friend Sam. He’s just a friend,” Blaine explains.

“You look close,” Kurt says, noticeably unconvinced.

“We are,” Blaine admits with a smile that slowly takes over his entire face.

“Quite.”

Blaine switches the photo, bypassing a few others with Sam in them. He wants to tease Kurt with the knowledge that he garnered from those journals, how Andrew had hoped Kurt could settle Sebastian down, how the two boys were so fond of each other, but it seems like a cruel memory to bring up. Kurt might not remember it that way and besides, thinking about that closeness starts to plant a seed of jealousy in Blaine’s mind.

Especially that kiss.

Blaine shows Kurt a few, more generic, pictures – the farmer’s market where the Secret Society of Superheroes Club held a food drive last Thanksgiving, the Lima Mall, The Lima Bean coffee shop where Blaine goes pretty much every day after school. Kurt looks at these photos like he’s absorbing the images into his brain, imprinting them there.

“It looks so different now,” he says. “I don’t think I’d recognize it if I went back there.”

“Do you want to go back there?” Blaine asks, closing the photo gallery and pocketing his phone.

Kurt looks at the ocean, sadly shaking his head. “No. There’s nothing there for me now.” He wraps his arms around his torso, runs his hands up his exposed skin.

“Do you want to leave?” Blaine assumes Kurt has caught a chill, forgetting for a moment that Kurt can’t feel the cold.

“Not yet. You know, back when I …” He stops. He stares off at the distance, then he shakes his head. “Do you think it’s more fitting to say when I was alive? Or should I say when I was human? I mean, if I’m speaking of the past, what do I say? How do I address it?”

“That’s a good question.” Blaine wraps his arms around his bent knees and squeezes. He’s definitely catching a chill, but he has no intention of mentioning it. “I would say that you’re alive. And I like to think of you as human. Maybe you don’t need to make the distinction.”

Kurt looks at his hands, turning them over front to back, examining them beneath the moonlight. As well made as they are, as much time was put into them, they don’t look like human hands. They glisten unnaturally, and his knobby knuckles reveal the fact that his digits separate, each piece held together by wire, every time he bends them.

He may be alive, if this is what alive is, but he’s far from human.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” he asks, looking at Blaine with his hands splayed in front of him. “I’m a puppet. I’m made of porcelain. I can’t have a normal life like you. I know you said you would help me, but how? What can I do?” Kurt drops his hands in his lap, helpless, and Blaine sighs. He feels just as helpless. He doesn’t know exactly how Kurt feels, but Blaine is human and still, most of the time, he has no clue what he’s doing. He can’t fix this, not completely, not right now. He doesn’t even know where to start. So he puts an arm around Kurt’s shoulders and holds him close, and together they watch the waves chase each other down the beach.

***

Blaine and Kurt return to the beach house late. They’re not covered in sand, so Blaine doesn’t rush to shower right away. He takes Kurt to his bedroom and sits him down on the bed.

“Okay,” Blaine says. “I had a thought. Hang out here for a second. I’ll be right back.”

Kurt nods, watching Blaine disappear out the door. He crosses the living room and heads for the opposite end of the house. These rooms Blaine doesn’t go to usually with the exception of the kitchen. Where his room and his brother’s room are situated side-by-side on one end of the house, the master bedroom and his parent’s library mirror them on the other.

It’s the master bedroom that Blaine ducks into.

When Blaine was younger, his mother used to sew a lot. It was a hobby that inspired him, but that she kind of grew out of the more “adult” she became. He can’t remember exactly when that happened, it just kind of did. She kept a basket of sewing supplies in the bottom of the closet, along with a few old fashion magazines, so Blaine always had hopes of her picking it up again.

To date, she hasn’t.

On their last visit here, his father, who is tall and thin like Kurt, left clothes hanging in the closet. He had planned to pick them up on their next summer trip, but there never was another one. Blaine looks them over, frowning at how out-of-style they are, but he hopes that Kurt can do something with them. Blaine pulls the clothes off the hangers, grabs the basket of supplies and a handful of magazines, and races back through the house, ignoring Sebastian with each pass.

“Here we go.” Blaine slides into the bedroom on his sock-covered feet and drops the supplies onto his bed. Kurt sees them and goes from sullen to ecstatic.

“Oh, Blaine.” He picks through the clothes and the magazines, smiling so brightly that Blaine thinks Kurt might burst into song. “Did you bring all of this in here for me?”

“Yeah. Well, I thought these clothes might fit you better.” He opens the basket of sewing supplies. “And if they don’t, you could alter them, maybe? And …”

Blaine stops when Kurt kisses him on the cheek. It’s brief, innocent, but it makes Blaine’s entire body tingle.

“It’s wonderful,” Kurt whispers. “Thank you.”

“Yeah? Oh. I’m glad you like them.” He stands and backs up toward the bathroom door while Kurt continues to sift through the items on the bed. “I’m just going to take a quick rinse, and then …”

“Are you going to work on Sebastian?” Kurt’s expression seems genuinely hopeful, but Blaine still has trouble interpreting that wary tone in Kurt’s voice.

“Do you really want me to?” Blaine asks.

Kurt pauses a second.

It’s a second in which Blaine thinks Kurt might say no.

“Yes,” Kurt says in the same unsure tone. “Yes, I do.”

***

Blaine’s shower is basically a dip beneath cold water to get his head straight before he jumps back out and joins Kurt for what could turn out to be a long, exhaustive night of repairing Sebastian. He has only been at it for fifteen minutes, but already he wants to throw in the towel. Sitting in a chair from the dining room that he pulled up in front of the loveseat, Blaine struggles to get Sebastian’s arm seated correctly. Whereas Kurt’s body felt magnetic, his broken limbs pulling together, longing to return to their body, Sebastian’s body feels like he’s repelling these pieces away. Maybe Sebastian doesn’t want to be put back together, Blaine muses.

Or maybe he doesn’t want help from Blaine.

If Blaine had the money to send him to a professional repair person, he would. At least it would get Sebastian out of the house for a few days. The longer he sits on the love seat staring blankly into space, the more unnerving it feels having him around.

Blaine wrestles with the piece, eventually fitting the arm in its socket. He threads the wires through, twisting them together and tying them, but they snap before he can finish. The sharp end recoils and hits Blaine on the arm, leaving a long scratch. Sebastian’s arm falls off his body and onto the love seat.

“Dammit,” Blaine screams, dropping Sebastian to look at his smarting wound, which sends the loose arm tumbling to the floor.

Kurt puts down his sewing and runs over to examine Blaine’s injured arm.

“Is it bleeding?” he asks, looking on with concern.

“I don’t think so,” Blaine hisses, “but it hurts like hell.” Blaine reaches for a box of tissues on the table while Kurt bends over to retrieve Sebastian’s arm.

“Blaine!” Kurt exclaims, getting on his hands and knees. “You didn’t tell me you had a cat!”

“I … I don’t.” Blaine leans to the right and peeks over Kurt’s shoulder. “Oh, is it a tabby cat?” he asks, remembering the fugitive cat that scared the living daylights out of him. “Apparently he’s found a way in here.”

“No!” Kurt gasps, pulling a furry body out from underneath the love seat. Blaine eyes the unmoving animal and groans low in his throat.

Great. The cat broke in again just in time to die in my dining room.

But what Kurt has in his hands isn’t the dead body of a tabby cat. It’s the puppet of a tabby cat - the same tabby cat Blaine had seen in the house before. It has the same inquisitive green eyes, the same ripple pattern to the fur.

“Abigail,” Kurt murmurs, gently stroking the animal’s coat.

“Abigail?” Blaine slides off his chair to kneel on the floor beside him.

“Yes.” Kurt smiles affectionately at the realistic-looking feline puppet with the silky fur and the sparkling green eyes. “Sebastian made her. His dad was teaching us to make puppets, and Abigail was Sebastian’s.”

“But why would Abigail be here?” Blaine asks. “I didn’t bring her here.”

“Abigail was the first,” Kurt says, petting the cat as if he expected it to spring to life any second.

“The first … what?”

“The first puppet that Sebastian’s dad tried the spell on,” Kurt explains, each word forming as if the memory comes to him in the instant that he speaks.

“A spell?”

Kurt’s eyes grow wide as he starts to remember.

“Sebastian’s dad bartered for a spell from the Calhoun family. A favor for a favor. It was supposed to capture any lingering soul and put it into the vessel of your choice.”

“But, why start with the cat?” Blaine asks. It sounds far too fantastic to be real.

But then again …

“Abigail wasn’t just any cat.” Kurt holds the animal up to his nose and stares into its eyes, trying to coax the creature to come alive for them. “She was Sebastian’s cat. His best friend back before I joined their group. She was a stray. Andrew didn’t really let Sebastian keep her. She followed them around because Sebastian fed her, and they couldn’t get rid of her. After she died, Sebastian said he always kind of felt her around. He swore he would see her dart out from behind corners, or feel her curl up next to him while he slept. She was always hiding under things and scurrying beneath toys and such, looking for mice …”

Blaine’s mind conjures up the sounds of scurrying he heard in the Victorian house when he first entered it, wondering if they might have been made by Abigail hunting around the piles of trash.

“He got the spell to bring us back, but he tried it out on Abigail first.”

“So, he was able to bring her back because she stayed behind? So that means that you stayed behind?”

Kurt puts Abigail down beside Sebastian on the love seat, moving the cat close to his friend’s body so that they can finally be together again.

“I couldn’t leave him,” Kurt says, giving the cat puppet one last pat on the head. “He was like a father to me. And he felt so guilty … I had to make sure that he was going to be okay.”

“And Sebastian?” Blaine bites his tongue. The answer is obvious, but Blaine doesn’t want to let on that he harbors secret knowledge of the motives of Andrew – or Sebastian - Smythe. After what Blaine read in those journals, he knows that Sebastian didn’t stick around for his father. No way. There’s only one person he would have stayed around for.

“He stayed around for me.” When Kurt turns and looks at Blaine, it’s with the ghost of tears in his eyes – tears that don’t exist but are as real as any others, brought on by emotion that Kurt can feel but can’t fully express. “That’s why you have to promise me you’ll put him back together.” Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s torso. “You have to fix him. Please? For me?”

“I will,” Blaine says, holding Kurt just as tightly in his arms. “I promised I will, and I will.” With his cheek resting in Kurt’s hair, he looks Sebastian over. He should fix Sebastian – at least give the poor guy another arm or a leg. He did promise Kurt. Sebastian’s puppet is made of wood and the pieces are not as extensively damaged as Kurt’s were, but fixing Sebastian feels like the last thing he should do.

He has a feeling that if Sebastian wakes up, he has the power to take Kurt away from him for good.

***

There must be rats somewhere beneath the floor. Or possums. Or maybe Abigail is up and roaming about the house, chasing dust bunnies or pouncing on her shadow. Either way, in his sleep, Blaine can hear the scrape, scrape, scrape of something moving across the wood floor.

Or maybe it’s a gnawing. He can’t tell in his half-asleep state.

His mind swims with dreams of Kurt: Kurt sitting on the sand at the beach, staring off into the water; Kurt dancing beneath the moonlight, arms outstretched to the sky; Kurt lying beside him where they fell asleep together on the living room floor, their fingers intertwined.

Kurt’s blue eyes, his smooth skin, his pink lips.

Blaine feels a tickle on his cheek, bothering him awake. He opens his eyes with a smile, expecting to see a tuft of orange fur, or maybe blue eyes staring at him from an already awake Kurt.

He hopes it’s eyes – stunning blue glass eyes.

Blaine’s eyes open slowly, holding on to as much dream as he can, even though he’s eager to spend another day with Kurt.

He focuses through slits. It’s eyes that he sees alright, but this time they’re not blue.

They’re green.

And they don’t belong to Abigail.

Blaine’s eyes snap open, realization propelling him awake.

Sebastian is lying out on the floor in front of him, nose pressed against his, wooden mouth split into a startling grin.

“Well hey there, tiger,” Sebastian says. “Don’t I get a kiss hello?”

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Next Stop Everywhere

Chapter 25: Utopia

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

(Minerva’s face claim: Victoria Camacho)

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Chapter summary: The travelers have reached the end of the world thanks to one Captain Jack Harkness. There, they meet professor Yana who seems to be in possession of a familiar watch and jewel...

// Story Masterlist //

"And so you better be careful from now on," my grandmother, now her actual senior self, finished giving the Doctor, Martha and myself the biggest lecture of the world.

The woman had played us all like fools.

She knew we were time travelers, she remembered perfectly meeting me in 1969, on my birthday. She was chuck-full of questions but I had my own questions for her. If she and my grandfather had seen me in 1969 then they had always known I would somehow, inexplicably end up in that year. They raised me practically knowing I'd somehow time travel and never said a word! I even asked my grandmother how exactly she knew the Doctor wasn't called 'John Smith' and in fact was just 'the Doctor'. She'd just given me a smile and said I had to wait for someone else in the family to give me the answer because, apparently, there was a whole story behind it.

As soon as we had retrieved the box of wonders, the Doctor had taken us to 2007, to my grandmother's front step, November 1st...a day after my birthday. She knew perfectly well where we had been at. As soon as we returned home she made us all sit down and fully explain to her completely of our lives. And to my surprise, the Doctor had told her everything. Starting with his origin, up until today. I felt bad he spilled almost all his life to her, even if it was just the common things Martha knew about him. After his full explanation, I pulled him to the side and told him he didn't have to do that. He shouldn't have to. It was his life and he should speak whenever he wanted to, not just cos one of his companion's grandmother kept asking questions. Even Martha's family wasn't well informed of her whereabouts. But the Martian assured me it was fine and that after so many years of not seeing my grandmother she deserved to know what her granddaughter was really up to and how much I "accomplished". It meant so much to me what he had done. It really only increased my hopes he was doing this because of another reason...one that perhaps could explain his secret kiss.

And I'd tried to talk to him about that lately, but it seemed like every time I was so close to asking him something always came up. It had only been a week since we got out of 1969 and each time I was so close, the Doctor came up with a new adventure for us, or Martha interrupted because she was still sick, or there was a phone call from my grandmother or something. But I was always interrupted I wasn't going to let this one slide, no sir.

The Doctor had kissed me and I wanted to know why.

And now that Martha was finally better and became one less interruption, I became my own interruption. I'd taken care of Martha all week and just when she seemed to be better...

"Achoo!" I sneezed loudly, making the Doctor and Martha jump in their spots.

"Bless you," Martha handed me a tissue.

"Sorry guys," I sniffled.

"Maybe we should get you to bed," the Doctor suggested, Martha nodding in agreement and already moving us for the corridors.

"No," I shook her off and walked back to the Doctor, "I wanna know where we're going."

"Well the answer to that is Cardiff," he slung his arm around my shoulders, "And the response to your answer is, 'yes you're going to bed'."

"No," I shook my head, refusing to leave my spot. I looked up at him, "Doctor, we need to talk," I informed him in a low whisper.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah...well...actually, no..." I shook my head, really unable to answer that firmly. Inside, my heart was practically bursting with joy. Every time I remembered his kiss, I felt my heart beat so fast that I was afraid he could hear it. I felt my lips tingle when I remembered whose pair had been on them. There was even a stupid grin on my face each time I remembered the sensation of them...

But it also felt like a curse.

No matter how happy I was, despite being ill, I had to think of Kaeya. In the beginning, she had been the reason why the kiss the Doctor and I shared in China hadn't led to anything. The Doctor had thought of her instead and last time I heard, he was still in love with her. Then there was Rose. I knew he didn't love her but...she still managed to attract him. The two women had done something that I just couldn't do to get him to tell me what he felt for me. And despite our small kiss, which I wasn't even supposed to know about, it could have been just a small tease of what I would never get. Which was it? A kiss to show that there was a connection, or a kiss that defined our relationship as just a friendship?

"Why are we going to Cardiff?" Martha asked, ending the silence that had fallen which I didn't even notice.

"Cardiff is built on a rift in time and space, just like the California and the San Andreas Fault. The rift bleeds energy and every now and then I need to open the up engines, soak up the energy and use it as fuel."

"In other words it's a pit stop," I teased, still gazing up at him, I just couldn't stop..

"Ha, yes," he shook his head, placing a hand on my forehead, "No fever, but still," he tried turning for the corridors.

"No!"

"Hey wait a minute," Martha stopped us, a suspicious look in her eyes as she looked at the Doctor, "They had an earthquake in Cardiff a couple of years ago, was that you?"

"Yes," I answered for him, "I wasn't there but apparently it was Slitheen."

"No one told you to go to some camping trip," the Doctor shrugged.

"No one told me you were coming. In fact, you didn't even tell me you stopped by." There was a hint of sadness in my tone as I looked away, "I wouldn't have known it was you if Mickey hadn't explained the whole thing to me."

I didn't like to remind him it was during the time he barely acknowledged me but he always knew his last incarnation was more attached to Rose than anyone else.

"Right, sorry about that," he pulled me into his arms for a nice, warm hug, "It was a long time ago. Lifetimes. I was a different man back then. And definitely not one I'd like to be again."

"Because of the big ears?" I grinned up until I started coughing and pulled away.

"Oi," he pointed back, frowning, "Watch it."

"And now it's been replaced by big hair."

"We-" he stopped, thinking hard on that one, "It's big, good hair."

I rolled my eyes, coughing one final time, "If that's what you'd like to tell yourself," I walked past him to the console, blushing at my sudden thought of running my hand through it. Thanks to that kiss, I've been having more and more thoughts of him that always made me blush.

"I'm gonna let that one go because you're currently sick and diddly-daddling," he moved to lever on the console, "Well, Finito. All powered up," he looked at the monitor for a second and had a look of panic for some reason.

"Everything alright?" I was able to ask before he literally yanked me to his side, his arm around my waist, while the other pulled the lever and sent the TARDIS off.

"What's going on!?" Martha cried as she clung to the chairs.

The console sparked and the Doctor and I fell back on the floor with a thud. He quickly pulled himself and checked up,"We're accelerating? The year one billion. Five billion. Five trillion. 50 trillion..."

I pushed myself up to the console and grabbed on for what seemed my life, "What? Why?"

"The year 100 trillion! That's impossible!"

"Why? What happens then?" Martha questioned.

"We're going to the end of the universe," he said, eyes full of shock.

The box lurched one final time then came to a halt, all three of us glancing at each other. Neither of us moved for a good minute or two.

And then I sneezed, "Sorry. So are we gonna see where we are?"

"I don't know." the Doctor said, his eyes fixed on the doors, "We've landed..."

"And where, would be the question be," Martha fixed herself.

"No idea."

"Hm, say that one again, it's rare," I remarked.

"Well, not even the Time Lords came this far. We should leave. We should go. We should really, really...go."

I smirked, "Meaning..."

He grabbed my hand and ran us out the door, Martha hollering us yo wait up. We were in a very bleak environment, sort of cliffs of different sizes.

"Oh my god!" Martha exclaimed, making us see a man on the ground completely unconscious and then ran towards him, "Can't get a pulse. Hold on, you've got that medical kit thing," she rushed back to the TARDIS.

I coughed and moved forwards...only for the Doctor to pull me back, maintaining a tight grip on my hand, "Doctor, what's wrong? We've got to help him and I doubt he can do anything when he's unconscious."

But he just stared at the man with a cold look as if the man was a menace.

"Here we go, out of the way!" Martha pushed past us, "Sorry!"

"Funny, he doesn't look very futuristic," I remarked, studying the man as much as I could from a distance. "That coat looks more like World War II."

"I think he came with us," the Doctor said, calmly.

"How do you mean? From earth?" Martha looked back.

"Must've been clinging to the outside of the TARDIS all the way through the vortex. Well, that's very him."

"You know him?" I blinked, now really confused on why we couldn't move up to the man. "From where?"

"He traveled with us back in the old days. With Rose and I."

"Hold on, is that...is that Jack?" I looked at the man, unconsciously pulling my hand from his, "That flirty man Mickey talked about?" He had a lot to say about that Jack man. Apparently, Jack lived to flirt and it was plain annoying. I suspected there was more to that but Mickey always got riled up so I saw no point going any further on the subject.

"But he's...I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat," Martha shook her head, "He's dead." Suddenly, he came back to life with a huge gasp, grabbing Martha and scaring her along.

"So much for dead," I blinked, confused.

"It's all right now, just take a deep breath," Martha instructed, helping him sit up despite still processing what had just happened.

"Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?" he asked as he came around.

"Martha Jones."

"Nice to meet you, Martha Jones," he said, flirtatiously.

There it was. I chuckled, "Yup, that's him!"

"Oh, don't start!" the Doctor scolded Jack, still displeased for some reason.

"I was only saying hello!"

"I don't mind," Martha smiled, helping him up to his feet.

I sneezed, "Sorry!"

"And who's the one with the adorable sneeze?" Jack moved onto me, studying from head to toe, "Let's see, brunette, very...very long hair, the green eyes, not so tall...Minerva Souza?" I opened my mouth to argue over that last description but ended up sneezing again, making him laugh, "Adorable!"

"Th-thanks," I sniffled, holding out my hand to shake his, "Promise I've washed my hands."

He chuckled, "I believe you," he shook my hand, "Jack Harkness, and it's very nice to meet you."

"No!" the Doctor pointed at him, "NO," he glared, pulling me back.

"But he was just saying hello," I frowned with confusion.

"Thank you!" Jack exclaimed.

"Hey, you're like the man from 1913," I pointed, confusing him for a moment.

"1913?"

"Yeah, see, apparently I made some poor man named Jack fall in love with me."

"Well," Jack smirked as he ran a hand through his hair, "Us Jack's do have some lookers and good hearts."

I laughed, "I guess so." I looked over to the Doctor and saw him still giving Jack a rather cold look. I didn't understand what it was for. I mean, this was Jack! An old companion of his had returned and he wasn't happy?

"Doctor," Jack said, flatly.

"Captain," the Doctor returned in the same manner.

"Good to see you."

"And you. Same as ever...although...have you had work done?"

Jack scoffed, "You can talk!"

"Oh, yes, regeneration," the Doctor nodded, "How did you know this was me?"

"The police box kinda gives it away. I've been following you for a long time. You abandoned me."

"Did I? Busy life. Move on."

I frowned at their words, abandoned? The Doctor would never do that to anyone...right?

"I just gotta ask...the Battle of Canary Wharf. I saw the list of the dead. It said Rose Tyler," Jack's voice lowered, clearly the blonde had been important to him as well, though I presume less than the Doctor.

"She's alive," I answered, his gaze immediately picking up, "She's perfectly safe."

"Really?" he looked at me incredulously, "You're not joking?"

"Parallel world safe and sound. And Mickey! And her mother!" the Doctor added.

"Oh yes!" Jack exclaimed, hugging him excitedly.

I looked at Martha, slightly upset, "Yay..."

Martha noticed my silence and clapped her hands, separating the two men, "Oi, are we just gonna stand here and hug all day?"

"I don't mind," Jack pulled away and held out his arms for me, "Next hug?"

I chuckled, flustered a bit while Martha laughed as well.

"Uh, no," the Doctor pulled him back, however, pointing a very serious finger at him, "No."

"What's the matter, Doctor? Don't like hugs?" Martha smirked as she came over, stopping beside me, "Can I get one?" She asked Jack.

"Of course," Jack was all for it. He pulled her into a hug while I stayed by the Doctor's side.

"How come I can't hug him?" I frowned, looking at the Doctor with confusion.

"Yeah Doctor, how come?" Martha's smirk widened for some reason.

"Because...because he's..." He'd open his mouth as if to speak but then he would close his it, "...cos he's a flirt and he'll make Minerva uncomfortable."

"Oh how very thoughtful of you," Martha smirked, "Blame him instead," she nodded towards Jack.

"You know what, Minerva and I are going to look around now," the Doctor announced and pulled me to the side where we started walking ahead.

"That was a bit rude," I whispered to him. Not to mention his excuse didn't exactly make sense to me. The last time I remember someone flirting with me had been in China and that was a bad experience but I never said someone flirting with me would make me uncomfortable. Where would he get that idea?

"Just looking out for you," he shrugged, looking straight ahead.

I dared to think he might be jealous or something, considering how flirty I was told Jack was, "Doctor, we need to talk," I whispered so Jack or Martha wouldn't hear since they were right behind us.

"About what?"

"Um..." I bit my lip, this wasn't the ideal place to talk about such a thing, "...can we just, can we just talk as soon as we're finished here?"

"Sure," he noticed my seriousness and nodded, "Are you alright?"

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, fine..."

"So, you wanna tell us more about yourself?" Martha asked Jack, "No offence but you don't really seem normal."

"Nice of you to say," he pretended to be hurt, "Well, I suppose I should start where the Doctor and I had left off...I was stranded in the year 200,100, ankle-deep in Dalek dust, and he-" he made a quick gesture towards the Doctor, "-goes off without me. But I had this," he tapped a device wrapped around his wrist, "I used to be a Time Agent. It's called a vortex manipulator. He's not the only one who can time travel."

The Doctor turned around, looking very irritated again, "Oh, excuse me, that is not time travel. It's like I've got a sports car and you've got a space hopper."

"Wow, boys and their toys," I laughed.

"All right, so I bounced," Jack shrugged, "I thought '21st century, best place to find the Doctor' except that I got it a little wrong. I arrived in 1869 and this thing burnt out so it was useless."

"Told you," the Doctor muttered.

"So I had to live through the entire 20th century waiting for a version of you that would coincide with me."

"Wait a minute, that would make you more than a 100 years old," Martha said, confused.

"And looking good, don't yah think? I went to the time rift, based myself 'cause I knew you'd come back to refuel. Until finally I get a signal on this detecting you and here we are."

"Doctor, why would you leave him behind?" I asked, curious, that just didn't seem like him.

"I was busy," he shrugged casually.

"Busy?" I took his casualness of the topic with offense for Jack, Martha and myself. He really looked like he wasn't the least bit guilty about leaving Jack behind...when the man was in the same room as daleks. Thinking about it just made me angrier. "So is that what you're gonna do to Martha and I one day? It's gonna be a "busy day" and all...or is that just fancy code for getting bored?" I yanked my hand out of his when he remained silent. "Do you get bored with your companions one day and disappear?"

"Not if you're blonde," Jack muttered.

"Oh, she was blonde? What a surprise?" Martha said, sarcastically.

I wasn't joking and they weren't helping. "Doctor?"

"We're at the end of the universe, all right? We're at the edge of knowledge itself and you're busy...blogging! Come on," he reached for my hand again but I stepped away from him.

"No, no, see, because...this, this right here," I pointed, "This is really learning what happens to us. Rose was right, you'll just stop talking about us one day and..." I couldn't even finish the sentence, the thought of him never talking about me anymore in the future when he's got some new companion...it hurt. It hurt my insides and worst of all, he seemed angry that I was saying that, like it wasn't his fault at all. He had the responsibility to at least tell us how our fate as companions would end, both to me and Martha, "...you're just gonna leave me behind," I whispered, moving ahead from them all.

Like Sarah Jane, I could be dropped off and never spoken of again until one day we magically re-meet and an explanation is forced out of him. It was hard, especially with everything that I felt, to even think of that possibility. Now I knew exactly what Rose had felt on the day we met Sarah Jane. It was as if all the hope and practically our world crumbled down at the thought that the man we cared for so much would one day leave us out of the blue, with no explanation given. But somewhere inside of me wanted to think that Rose and I were different, at least to the Doctor. The Doctor said he hadn't loved Rose and he'd given me a secret kiss. Yes, I know they'd kissed in the past too, I saw one of those but it didn't mean anything to the Doctor. With me...there existed that possibility that it could mean something. And if the kiss meant something, I had to mean something to him beyond friendship...and that would mean he couldn't leave me behind, right?

"Minerva, come back," the Martian called.

"No, leave me alone," I shook his hand off my arm, "Go leave me behind like you did to Jack."

"Okay, listen to me please," he turned me around, "It was different, okay? Jack is just...something complicated, and I'll admit it: I was scared. I didn't know what to do and leaving him was wrong, alright? It was outright wrong."

Well, there was at least guilt on his face now. He wasn't completely horrible. "Really?" I asked, still studying his every movement.

"Yes, really. I won't ever leave you behind, do you hear me? Never."

"So...you're not gonna pick up some ginger and leave me?"

He smiled warmly, "Never. The only ginger I want in my box is me. I deserve to be ginger."

He got me to smile as usual, shaking my head, "You'd make a fine ginger."

"I would," he agreed with pride, "Now I know your sick and all, but you really need to understand that I will never drop you off. I don't want us to be separated. I simply refuse to lose you."

That last one made my heart flutter, "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded, "We're a team, and a good one, and I don't plan on giving up my partner for anything."

"Me neither," I said.

"Good, I hope that clears up your doubts," he hugged me, "Always together."

"Always," I nodded.

"You okay, Minerva?" Martha's voice called, and as we pulled away she and Jack were just catching up, "How do you feel?"

"Fine, now," I shrugged, smiling as I felt my hand being taken by the Doctor again.

Martha's eyebrows raised at the action, probably thinking something had been said. I gave her a sharp look before she dared to open her mouth, I wanted to say it to the Martian. I wanted to talk to him and finally tell him everything he makes me feel. I had to be me and it had to be alone.

"Hey, what's that?" Jack nodded behind us, making us all turn around to see the edge of the cliff and a desolate ruins below.

"Is that a city?" Martha moved up beside me, gazing out.

"A city or a hive. Or a nest. Or a conglomeration," the Doctor explained, "Looks like it was grown. But look there. That's like pathways, roads…Must have been some sort of life. Long ago."

"So what killed it?"

"Time. Just time. Everything's dying now. All the great civilizations have gone. This isn't just night. All the stars have burned up and faded away into nothing."

"It must have an atmospheric shell. We should be frozen to death," Jack looked up to the sky, missing the look the Doctor was giving him, still a bit cold.

"Well, Minerva, Martha and I, maybe. Not so sure about you, Jack.

"So what about the people, then?" I asked, wanting to divert any more disagreements between any of us, "Do they all just die? No survivors?"

"I suppose we have to hope. Life will find a way."

"Well," I tilted my head, seeing a man running alone one of the pathways below, "I don't think he's having much trouble with it."

Of course then we saw a group running after him.

"Is it me, or does that look like a hunt? Come on!" the Doctor started running to help the man, pulling me with him and the other two trailing behind.

Jack let out a big laugh as we ran down a roadway, "Oh, I've missed this!"

I had to laugh as well, "You're insane!"

He reached the man first and grabbed him, "I've got you!"

"We gotta run! They're coming!" the man pointed back to the chasers.

Jack passed the man along to us then pulled out a revolver and aimed it at the group.

"Jack, don't you dare!" the Doctor yelled.

Jack fired up into the air instead, making everyone stop in their tracks.

"What the hell are they?" Martha asked, the chasers looking like humans but we all know that wouldn't confirm anything. Looks are deceiving.

"There's more of them. We've got to keep going," the man insisted, terrified for his life.

"I've got a ship nearby. It's safe, not too far, it's just over there," the Doctor pointed up to where the TARDIS was only to see more of the creatures running from that direction, "Or maybe not."

"We're close to the silo. If we get to the silo, then we're safe."

"Silo?" the Doctor looked at us.

"Yes, please," I nodded, sneezing.

"Definitely," Martha agreed.

'Silo, here we come!" Jack exclaimed and we all ran again.

~0~

We arrived to a gated property where human guards stood by the doors. "It's the futurekind! Open the gate!" the man, Prada, apparently, yelled as we ran forth.

"Show me your teeth! Show me your teeth!" One of the guards ordered.

"Show them your teeth," he said to us. We stood on the other side of the gate with wide smiles and allowed them to see our teeth. "Human! Let them in!" the guard yelled.

The gates opened and we ran inside, nearly dropping to the ground out of exhaustion. I coughed like crazy, never having problems with asthma but run while your sick and you'll magically be out of breath in less than a minute.

"Humans. Humani. Make feast," one of the chasers said to us from the other side, the gates properly closed again.

"Go back to where you came from. I said go back! Go back!" the guard aimed a gun at them.

"Oh, don't tell him to put down his gun," Jack swayed his head.

"He's not my responsibility,"the Doctor shrugged.

Jack scoffed, "And I am? That makes a change."

"Jack, guns aren't nice, nice people shouldn't have them," I tried to ease that tension that just kept coming back between those two, "You shouldn't have one," he just smiled.

"Kind watch you. Kind hungry," the creature said before they all left.

"Thanks for that," the Doctor said to the guard.

"Shouldn't have ran," Martha moved over, putting a hand on my back as I coughed again.

"Sorry, but I wanted to live."

"My name is Padrafet Shafekane," the man had moved to the guard, "Please tell me, can you take me to Utopia?"

"Oh yes, sir. Yes, I can," the guard nodded, leading us into a large tunnel that was carved into a mountain.

~0~

"It's a box, a big blue box. I'm sorry, but I really need it back. It's stuck out there," the Doctor was saying to the guard that brought us inside.

"I'm sorry, but my family were heading for the silo. Did they get here? My mother is Kistane Shafekane. My brother is Beltone," Padra added, the poor guard juggling both insisting men.

"The computers are down but you can check the paperwork. Creet!" the guard called and a young boy, nearly nine or ten by the looks of it, stuck his head around a corner, "Passenger needs help."

"Right, what do you need?" He walked over, holding a clipboard in his arms.

"A blue box, you said," the guard continued with the Doctor.

"Big, tall, wooden. Says, 'Police'."

"We're driving out for a last water recollection. I'll see what I can do," the guard said before leaving.

"Sorry, but how old are you?" Martha asked the little boy.

"Old enough to work. This way!"

He led us down the corridor where people were on the ground, almost camping, "Anyone? Kristane and Beltone Shafekane! Anyone know the Shafekane family? Anyone called Shafekane?"

"This is like a refugee camp," I whispered to the others.

"Stinking," Jack said just as we passed a fairly large man who didn't seem too fond of his commentary, "Oh, sorry, no offence."

"Don't you see that? The ripe old smell of humans," the Doctor opened his arms, looking brightly.

"I do not smell like this," I frowned.

"No, you smell like," he took a sniff of me, "Vanilla...and apple-scented tissues."

"Shut up," I mumbled, crossing my arms, discreetly smiling to myself.

"You survived," he reminded, "Oh, much better than a million years evolving into clouds of gas. And then another million as downloads, but you always revert to the same basic shape. The fundamental humans. End of the universe and here you are. Indomitable! That's the word! Indomitable! Ha!"

"Is there a Kistane Shafekane?" Creet continued to call.

Finally, a woman stood up, "That's me!"

"Mother?" Prada went straight for her arms, encasing her in a big hug.

"At least his mom cares," I mumbled, thinking no one would hear me.

"We care for you," Martha reminded, the Doctor nodding in agreement, both making me smile.

"Captain Jack Harnkess," we heard Jack announce. We looked back and saw him shaking a good-looking man's hand, "And who are you?"

"Oh, brother," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "Stop it!" he called and walked for a door, using the sonic on it, "Give us a hand with this," Jack reluctantly took his hand back from the man and joined us, "It's half deadlocked. See if you can overwrite the code," Jack got to work on the keypad beside the door while he continued with the screwdriver, "Let's find out where we are," the Doctor said, right before the door slid open and almost fell out if it wasn't for Jack grabbing him.

"Gotcha, how did you ever cope without me?" Jack teased.

"Now that is what I call a rocket," Martha peered down.

"So then these people aren't refugees, they're passengers," I took a peek as well.

"They said something about Utopia," the Doctor said, remembering, "Perfect place. 100 trillion years, it's still the same old dream. Do you recognize those engines?"

"Nope, whatever it is, it's not rocket science," Jack shook his head, "But it's hot, though."

"Boiling," the Doctor closed the door, 'But if the universe is falling apart, what does Utopia mean?"

"The Doctor?" an elderly man hurried up to us but directed himself to Jack instead.

"Uh, no, that's me," the Doctor raised a finger.

"Good," the man turned to him and shook his hand, leading him away, "Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good."

The Doctor looked back to us, dead serious, "It's good apparently."

~0~

The elderly man, a professor, had led us into a lab where a blue, insectoid alien greeted us, "Chan-welcome-tho." she nodded.

We nodded and walked along, gazing upon the machinery.

"This is the gravitissimal accelerator. It's part of the ..." the professor trailed off as he brought the Doctor further inside.

"Hello, who are you, if I may ask?" I questioned the greeting alien.

"Chan-Chantho-tho," she smiled.

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack smiled a flashy smile.

"Stop it," the Doctor called.

"Can I say hello to anyone?"

"Chan-I do not protest-tho," the alien confessed.

"Maybe later, Blue," he winked at her then joined the Doctor, "So what have we got here?"

"Minerva, do you hear that?" Martha whispered to me, nodding to Jack's backpack. We started following the man like dogs, wanting to know what was up with that strange bubbling noise.

"Except without a stable footprint we'll never achieve escape velocity. If only we could harmonize the five impact patterns and unify them, well, we might yet make it. What do you think, Doctor? Any ideas?" the professor said, looking about the machines.

"Well, um, basically..." the Doctor sighed, "Not a clue."

"That's twice in a row, Martian," I gave him a sharp look, "You're failing."

"It's not my fault, I've never been here," he defended himself, the professor seeming very disappointed behind him, "I've never seen a system like it. Sorry."

"No, no, I'm sorry," the professor moved around dejectedly, "It's my fault. There's been so little help."

I noticed Jack finally setting his backpack at a sitting area, so I pulled Martha with me and headed for over, "Oooh, whatcha got there?" I peered beside him.

"Curious one, I like it," he tapped my nose.

"Jack!" the Doctor nearly shouted, making us all flinch.

Jack rolled his eyes and opened up his backpack, pulling out a jar with a hand inside, bubbling in its water, "I believe you were curious about this," he pulled up a certain jar with a certain hand.

I tilted my head, eyeing the strange yet familiar hand. "Hey, I know that hand. Doctor! Come here!"

"That's my hand!" the Martian walked over to us, "That's my hand!"

"I said I had a Doctor detector," Jack smiled proudly.

"Chan-is this a tradition among your people-tho?" Chantho asked, confused.

"Not on my street," Martha shook her head, "Now what do you mean that's your hand? You've got both your hands, I can see them."

"Long story, I lost my hand Christmas Day," the Doctor replied, "In a sword fight."

"And you just grew another hand?"

"Um, yeah, yeah I did. Hello," he waved his fingers.

"Might I ask what species are you?" the professor asked.

"Time Lord. Last of. Heard of them? Legend or anything?" he answered, and clearly awaited to be noticed but to his dismay, nothing, "Blimey, end of the universe is a bit humbling."

"Chan-It is said that I am the last of my species too-tho," Chantho said.

"Sorry, what were your name?" he turned to her.

"My assistant and good friend, Chantho," the professor answered for her, "A survivor of the Malmooth. This was their planet, Malcassairo before we took refuge."

"The city outside was yours?" I asked.

She nodded, "Chan-the conglomeration died-tho."

"Conglomeration! That's what I said!" the Doctor exclaimed.

I glanced at him with a disapproving look. "You're supposed to say sorry."

"Right, yes, sorry," he quickly became serious.

"Chan-most grateful-tho."

"I'm sorry but, you grew another hand?" Martha was still stuck on the jar, glancing between it and the Doctor's current hands.

"Hello again," he waved his fingers, "It's fine. Look. Really, it's me," he held out his hand to her.

"But...I..." she glanced at me.

I shrugged. I had a lot of time to process that and move on from it. "I was there."

"And you're not bothered?"

"His surprises have ceased to have an affect on me."

"Oi," he frowned, as if that statement was an utter offence.

"Just like the name the Oncoming Storm has no more meaning to me," I decided to add with a smirk.

"Just because you're sick does not mean you get to be ruder than usual!"

"Says the man who was more excited he was correct than respectful for someone who lost their entire people," I crossed my arms, just daring him to make a comeback.

He opened his mouth when Martha put a hand over his shoulder, "I wouldn't."

And he closed his mouth, losing silently.

"Chan-you are most unusual-tho," Chantho chuckled, lightly.

"So what about those things outside? The Beastie Boys," Jack brought our attention back, "What are they?"

"We call them the Future Kind," the professor replied, "Which is a myth in itself, but, uh, it is feared that they are what we will become unless we reach Utopia."

"And Utopia is...?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh, every human knows of Utopia," the professor said, slightly confused, "Where have you been?"

"Bit of a hermit."

"A hermit with friends?"

"Hermits United. We meet up every ten years. Swap stories about caves. It's good fun...for a hermit. So, um, Utopia?"

The professor led us to a computer that displayed a navigation chart, "The call from across the stars over and over again. Come to Utopia. Originated from that point," he pointed to a blinking red dot.

"And where is that?" I asked.

"It's far beyond the Condensate Wilderness. Out towards the wild-lands and the dark matter reefs. Calling us in. The last of the humans. Scattered across the night."

"And what do you think's out there?"

"I don't know, a colony? Some sort of haven? The Science Foundation created the Utopia Project thousands of years ago to preserve mankind-to find a way of surviving beyond the collapse of reality itself. Now perhaps they found it. Perhaps not. But it's worth a look, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes!" the Doctor exclaimed, happily, "And the signal keeps modulating, so it's not automatic. There's a good sign. Someone's out there. And that's...oh, that's a navigation matrix, isn't it? So you can fly without stars to guide you."

But the professor seemed distant from us, lost in a trance, "Professor," I stepped over, setting a hand on his arm, jerking it back when I heard something in my head...drums? My chest started to hurt for a minute that I had to rub my hand over my heart.

"I..." he shook his head, "Right then, that's enough talk. There's work to do! Now if you could leave, thank you," he walked away.

"You alright?" the Doctor called after him.

"I'm very fine and very busy!"

"Minerva?" Martha gently shook me. "Hey, you okay?"

I had a frown on my face. The pain in my chest was taking its sweet time fading away but I was also focusing on the faint snippet of drums that I had heard. That had certainly never happened to me. Where had it come from?

"Minerva?" Martha called again and turned me around. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I thought...I thought I heard something..."

"Like what?"

"Don't know...drums? I think Kaeya left some consequences. After I take her stupid necklace and guard it with my life this is what I get?" I sighed, "She and I are going to have some interesting things to talk about when she gets here."

"Good thing is you'll no longer wear the necklace," Martha patted my arm.

I nodded, promising myself I would never even touch that necklace. Kaeya would not have anymore opportunities to nab things that weren't hers. I understood she'd done it with good intentions but that was just not okay in my book.

"Except that rocket's not going to fly, is it?" the Doctor was asking the professor. Of course he hadn't noticed anything. "This footprint mechanism thing, it's not working."

"We'll find a way!"

"You're stuck on this planet and you haven't told them, have you? That lot out there still think they're gonna fly."

"Well, it's better to let them live in hope."

"Quite right, too. And I must say, Professor..." the Doctor removed his coat and tossed it to Jack, "Um, what was it?'

"Yana."

"Professor Yana. This new science is well beyond me, but all the same, a boost reversal circuit, in any time frame, must be a circuit which reverses the boost. So, I wonder what would happen if I did this?" he took out the screwdriver and used it on a nearby circuit, switching it on and giving power to everything.

"Chan-it's working-tho!" Chantho exclaimed.

"How did you do that?" Yana asked, incredulously.

"Oh, we've been chatting away. I forgot to tell you, I'm brilliant."

"Way to be modest about it," I smiled softly, "But yes, you are."

"You three?" he pointed at Martha, Chantho and I, "We're gonna some more materials."

"Yes, sir," I saluted.

~0~

"Boy am I glad to see that thing!" Martha exclaimed as we returned to the lab and saw the TARDIS being placed on the floor.

"That makes two," I nodded, sneezing.

"Bless you," she said, "And as soon as we get out of here, you're going straight to bed."

"Yes, mum," I teased.

"Connect those circuits into the spar-same as that last lot but quicker," Jack ordered.

"Yes, sir," Martha smiled.

"That's captain to you," he pointed, making us laugh.

"Professor, are you okay?" I frowned, watching him once again distance himself.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm fine," he seemed to be coming but the issue was that he kept having these moments. "I'm fine. Just get on with it."

"You don't have to keep working. We can handle it," the Doctor came over, also concerned.

"It's just a headache. Just—Just noise inside my head, Doctor. Constant noise inside my head," he shook his head.

"What sort of noise?"

"Drums," I said quietly, both of them looking at me with surprise. I was beginning to understand where those drums were coming from but now how I had heard them.

"How did you know?" Yana asked.

"Um..." I couldn't exactly say I heard it when I touched his arm, could I? I would have the Doctor on me for that and I felt like there were other things that should be his top priority right now. "...lucky guess, excuse me." I hurried off before anything else could be said.

"How long have you been with the professor, Chantho?" Martha questioned Chantho as I joined them, both working on the circuits.

"Chan-17 years-tho."

"Long time," I remarked.

"Chan-I adore him-tho."

"Oh, right, and he..." Martha trailed off.

"Chan-I don't think he even notices-tho."

"I know how that feels," I nodded.

"Uh, no," Martha pointed, "You're noticed now. He knows you're there and you know he's there. I don't know what's keeping you apart."

I sighed and continued my work in silence. If only she knew what had happened in 1969. But no, this was a secret I wanted to keep to myself and only talk about it with the other person responsible for the secret. She'd get to know about it after everything had been said.

~0~

Professor Yana was having some trouble with a computer he was using to communicate with another person, "I'm here! We're ready! Now all you need to do is connect the couplings. Then we can launch," but he lost connection with Atillo, one of the guards, "God sakes! This equipment! Needs rebooting all the time!"

"Anything we can do?" Martha questioned, us two walking over, "We've finished that lot."

"Yes, if you could," the professor stood up and Martha took his seat, "Just press the reboot key every time the picture goes out."

"Certainly, sir. Just don't ask me to do shorthand."

"Are you still there?" Atillo's voice called from the screen.

"Ah, present and correct. Send your man inside. We'll keep the levels down from here," Yana replied.

"He's inside. And good luck to him."

"Captain, keep the levels below the red," Yana looked back to Jack.

"Where is that room?" I asked, curious.

"It's underneath the rocket. Fix the couplings and the footprint can work. But the entire chamber is flooded with stet radiation."

"Stet? Never heard of that," the Doctor remarked.

"You wouldn't want to. But it's safe enough. We can hold the radiation back from here."

We watched on the screen as the worker worked inside the room but an alarm went off and Yana quickly pointed to Jack, 'It's rising! 0.2. Keep it level!" Yana ordered.

"Yes, sir!"

"Chan-we're losing power-tho!" Chantho cried.

"Radiation's rising!" the Doctor added.

"We've lost control!" Jack yelled.

"The chamber's going to flood," Yana looked at the screen.

"Jack, override the vents!" the Doctor ordered.

Jack held up two cables that were sparking at its tips, "We can jump start the override!" he put both cables together.

"Don't! It's going to flare!" the Doctor warned but it was too late. Jack screamed in pain then collapsed on the ground.

"Oh, not again!" Martha rushed over to him.

"Chan-don't touch the cables-tho," Chantho pushed the cables away from us.

"Jack!" I exclaimed, Martha and I going over to check on him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Yana sighed.

"The chamber's flooded with radiation, yes?" the Doctor asked, calmly.

Martha moved me so she could start doing mouth-to-mouth on Jack.

"Without the couplings, the engines will never start. It was all for nothing!" Yana shook his head.

"Oh, I don't know..." the Doctor over to us, pulling me up, "Martha, leave him."

"You've gotta let me try," she struggled to return.

"Come on, just listen to me," he reached for her and pulled her to her feet as well, "Leave him alone. It strikes me, Professor, you've got a room a man can't enter without dying. Is that correct?"

"Yes..."

"Well..." he looked down to Jack just as he gasped for air, coming back to life, "I've got just the man."

"Was someone kissing me?" Jack asked, panting for air.

"Impossible man, you are," I almost laughed as I moved to help him up.

"Was it you?" he pointed. He didn't look that upset if it was the case that I'd 'kissed him'.

"No."

"...do you want it to be you?"

"Stop it," I gave him a stern look, though chuckling in the end.

Jack grinned. "You learn fast."

"Oh stop it, I think they've got a job for you."

"Yes, we do," the Doctor nodded, pulling me away from him, "Start heading out."

"Head where?" Jack frowned, looking around.

"I don't know, just go," the Doctor shooed him off.

"You're being rude," I turned to him, "Why?"

"I...don't know, gotta go!" And he rushed off after the man who apparently could never die.

"What just happened?" I looked at Martha who was smirking, "What?"

"Too oblivious," were her last words before returning to her work.

~0~

"We lost picture when that thing flared up. Doctor, are you there?" Martha asked, still working on the computer. I stood beside her, wanting to know what those two fools were doing. The lack of supervision was concerning for me.

"Receiving, yeah. He's inside," the Doctor answered.

Alright, I was more worried over the Martian...but Jack couldn't die, so...

"And still alive?" Martha looked at me, still psyched out.

"Oh, yes."

"But he should evaporate. What sort of man is he?" Yana inquired as he joined us.

"We've only just met him," I replied, "The Doctor travels through time and space and picks people. Oh, I think I just made us sound like stray dogs."

"Kind of, yeah," Martha smiled, "But...maybe we are...well, you're more than that."

I rolled my eyes, "You're just as important as I am, Martha."

"So you're just as important as Rose?" she tested me, knowing I would contradict myself.

"He travels in time?" Yana asked, a bit absently.

"Yup, that's the TARDIS back there. The sports car of time travel, he says," I pointed, "Conceited Martian."

"And yet you're head over heels for him," Martha mumbled, receiving an elbow in her ribs afterwards. "Ow..."

"When will you learn not to expose my feelings over a comm. that the Doctor can possibly hear us through?" I whisper-shouted at her, recalling McDonnell's ship where the same thing happened oh-so-many times.

"Oops?" She tried. I shook my head, what would I do with her?

"When did you first realize?" the Doctor's voice came over the computer screen, startling me for the moment but as they continued I relaxed as he hadn't heard anything.

"Earth 1892. Got in a fight in Ellis Island. A man shot me through the heart. Then I woke up. Thought it was kinda strange. But then it never stopped. Fell off a cliff, trampled by horses, World War I, World War II, poison, strangulation, a stray javelin…In the end, I got the message, I'm the man who can never die. And all that time you knew."

"Poor Jack," I whispered, "I'm gonna scold the Doctor when he comes back."

Martha smiled, "Yeah, then he'll sweet-talk his way out of it as usual."

"That's why I left you behind. It's not easy even just…just looking at you Jack, cos you're wrong," the Doctor said.

"Thanks."

"You are, I can't help it. I'm a Time Lord. It's instinct. It's in my guts. You're a fixed point in time a space. You're a fact. That's never meant to happen. Even the TARDIS reacted against you—tried to shake you off. Flew all the way to the end of the universe just to get rid of you."

"So what you're saying is that you're, uh, prejudiced?

"I never thought of it like that."

"Yeah."

"Last thing I remember back when I was mortal…I was facing three Daleks. Death by extermination. And then I came back to life. What happened?"

"Rose."

"I thought you sent her back home," Jack said.

"She came back. Opened the heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the time vortex."

I didn't like hearing about the last regeneration of the Doctor. It made me feel guilty that while Rose had been sent back and done her best to get back inside the TARDIS I hadn't even been there to help. I was on recruitment for a club. It made me feel so bad that each time the Doctor had returned I wasn't even there to greet him. Even if I was ignored I still wanted to see the old goof. So when I returned and heard about Rose and the TARDIS I was devastated. I spent weeks trying to call but I suppose the timelines were out of sync because months for us had only been a couple minutes for the blonde and Martian.

"What does that mean, exactly?" asked Jack.

"No one's ever meant to have that power. If a Time Lord did that, he'd become a god, a vengeful god. But she was human. Everything she did was so human. She brought you back to life but she couldn't control it. She brought you back forever. That's something, I suppose. The final act of the Time War was life."

"Do you think she could change me back?"

"I took the power out of her. She's gone, Jack. She's not just living on a parallel world, she's trapped there. The walls have closed."

"Hey," Martha whispered to me. "You okay?"

"No..." I admitted, "...whenever he talks about Rose, I just..."

"Don't think of her, then."

"It's not that easy, after everything," I sighed, "I know he doesn't love her, but she did. And at one point he was attracted to her. It's troublesome because then I get to thinking, what if they had more time together? What if she hadn't been sent to the parallel world? Would...would he had fallen in love with her?"

"Minerva, what's the point of you getting upset over the past? Get it through your head, Rose is gone. She's from the past. Whatever happened, happened. But that's it."

"Sorry," I shook my head and turned away, stopping when I noticed Yana was staring at the TARDIS, "Professor?"

"Time travel. They say there was time travel back in the old days. I never believed. But what would I know? I'm just a stupid old man," he let tears stream down his face,"Never could keep time. Always late, always lost. Even this thing never worked," he pulled out a fob watch from his pocket, "Time and time and time again. Always running out on me."

My eyes widened, Martha immediately moving beside me, "Can I...can I have a look at that?" I reached for him.

"Oh, it's only an old relic," he chuckled, "Like me."

"Where did you get it?"

"I was found with it."

"What do you mean?"

"An orphan in the storm. I was a naked child found on the coast of the Silver Devastation. Abandoned with only this," he held it out, "Well, this and a crystal."

"What crystal?" There was an odd feeling in my stomach.

He walked across the room, rummaging through some things. Martha and I exchanged glances, wondering if it could be the same...no...no that was ridiculous of us...right? We were at the end of the universe for god's sake!

"This," the professor returned holding a baby-blue and white crystal in his hand, "I supposed it was an heirloom of some kind."

I was horrified at the sight of the familiar crystal. "Oh my god," I put a hand over my mouth, stumbling back.

"Have you opened the watch?" Martha stood up, coming up beside me, her eyes flicking from the crystal to the watch.

"Why would I? It's broken."

"How do you know it's broken if you've never opened it?" I turned the watch over, looking at my necklace's pendant and finding the same types of Gallifreyan symbols on both.

"It's stuck. It's old," he took the pocket watch and tried opening it, "I don't know."

Martha reached for the crystal, turning it over as well, giving me a nod. It was the same one. It was Kaeya's.

"Let me see," I took the crystal from her only to hiss in pain and nearly drop it at the sensation of a burn, "OW!"

Martha lunged for the crystal, catching is just before it reached the floor, "Got it!"

"What is it?" the professor moved beside me to inspect my hands.

"Chan-is everything alright-tho?" the alien also joined us.

"We, um...we should go see if the Doctor needs help," I reached for Martha, she linking arms with me.

"But your hands..." the professor tried to reach for me again but I stepped back.

"They're okay...we're, um...we're gonna go to the Doctor..."

And we dashed off.

~0~

"Doctor!" Martha and I yelled when we found him and Jack working at the control panels.

"Ah, nearly there, the footprint is a gravity pulse," the Doctor was saying, "It stamps down, the rocket shoots up. Bit primitive. It's gonna take the both of us to keep it stable."

"Doctor, it's the professor," I tried, but he continued to mindlessly work, "Doctor?"

"Kind of busy here..." he mumbled.

I frowned and stomped my foot, "Listen to me!"

He stopped and turned, "Gosh, you get a cold and suddenly you become so demanding."

"Can you just listen, this is important. The professor's got this fob watch and it's the same as yours. Same writing on it. Same everything."

He turned back to the controls, "Don't be ridiculous."

"He said he had it all his life," Martha added.

"I'm serious, stop being ridiculous."

"Doctor, you always say I'm always right, well this is no time to doubt that!" I frowned, "Please listen to us. The professor had a crystal too!"

"Seriously, stop being ridiculous."

"We're not!"

"So he's got the same watch," Jack shrugs, "What's the big deal?"

"But the crystal? What about the crystal?" I moved in front of the controls, stopping the Doctor from his work, "Doctor, it was Kaeya's crystal. The one from Lazarus' experiment. I swear."

"That's impossible," he said, sternly, "It can't be."

"But it is! And he's got the fob watch too."

"What is the big deal of a crystal and a watch?" Jack turned around.

"But it's not a watch," Martha said, "It's this chameleon thing..."

"No, no, no." the Doctor snapped, getting irritated again, "It's this...this thing, this device, it rewrites biology, changes a Time Lord into a human."

"And the crystal belonged to the people of the Silver Monsoon," I added.

"But that species is extinct," Jack remarked.

"Except they're not," I corrected, "And that crystal survived too."

"It can't be!" the Doctor moved me out of the way and went on to fix an ongoing alarm.

"That means he could be a Time Lord. You might not be the last one," Jack said.

"Keep it leveled!"

"But that's good, isn't it?" Martha asked, "You're not alone anymore."

"Yes, it is, course it is. Depends on which one, though. And why would he have a crystal of the Monsoon? There was absolutely no way for a Time Lord to get their hands on that crystal."

"Doctor, it's the same!" I exclaimed, frustrated he was so keen on denying it, "He could be a Time Lord and if he is, he has the crystal!"

"But they died, the Time Lords. All of them, they died."

"Not if he was human! Think about it, Kaeya was able to survive and who knows how she did it. If this Time Lord had a fob watch then they could've easily survived!"

"What did he say?" he yelled, suddenly, "What?"

I flinched, completely scared by his sudden change, "Uh...he looked at the watch like he could hardly see it. Like the perception filter was still active. He said the crystal was just an heirloom or something..."

"What about now? Can he see the watch now?" he asked, slightly lower in volume.

"I...I don't know, I...I'm sorry," I stepped back.

"If he escaped the Time War then it's the perfect place to hide," Jack walked over to us, "The end of the universe."

"Think of what the Face of Boe said. His dying words," Martha said, "He said..."

He launched the rocket and finally put his whole mind on the subject. But he blinked all of a sudden, like he had realized something, and glanced at the monitor before picking up a phone, "Lieutenant, have you achieved velocity? Have you done it?" After receiving the answer he hung up and dashed away.

We quickly followed and ran behind. As soon as we reached the main door, it became locked.

"Get it open!" the Doctor yelled, 'Get it open!"

He worked on it with the screwdriver while Jack on the keypad. Finally, it opened and we ran through. In one of the corridors, the future kind had already gotten through so we had to go into a new direction and run even faster. We reached the lab door but again, found it locked.

"Professor!" the Doctor looked in through the window, "Professor! Let me in!"

"They're coming!" I cried, watching the future kind get closer, 'Someone do something!"

"Professor! Professor, let me in! Let me in!" the Doctor insisted, pounding on a small window, "Jack, get that door open!" Jack nodded and got to do that, "Professor! Professor, where are you?! Professor! Professor, are you there?! Please, I need to explain! Whatever you do, don't open that watch!"

"They're coming!" Martha and I cried, poor Jack frustrated with his lack of success.

"Professor! Open the door, please! I'm begging you, Professor! Please! Listen to me!"

"Oh for god's sake!" I snatched Jack's revolver, "Guns aren't nice! But their exterior are!" and I hit the door's keypad with the butt of the revolver, handing it back to Jack as soon as it was done.

The Doctor ran for the TARDIS, professor Yana against it for a second before stepping inside and locked it. The Doctor tried the key but it wouldn't work for some reason and so he tried the sonic...only for the same results to arise. So then he started pounding on the door, "Let me in! Let me in!"

"Oh my god," Martha gasped, diverting our attention to the blue alien on the floor, "Chantho!" She ran for her and checked for vitals, "She's dead..."

"Hey! Minerva, you broke the lock!" Jack exclaimed, struggling to close the door.

"Oh sure, focus on the bad side," I ran to go and help him.

"I'm begging you! Everything's changed! It's only the two of us! We're the only ones left! Just let me in!" the Doctor continued to pound on the TARDIS, nothing happening unfortunately. A couple seconds later, a scream emerged from the TARDIS and when I gave a quick glance there was a faint light coming from it...regeneration.

That couldn't be good.

"Ah!" Martha yelled when the door was nearly pushed open by the Futurekind from the other side.

"Doctor! You'd better think of something!" Jack called.

"Ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! Doctor—ooh, new voice," a new man's voice emerged from the TARDIS speakers, "Hello," the new, apparently younger man now, spoke in a lower voice, "Hello," and now in a higher voice, "Hello," he spoke now normally, "Anyway, why don't we stop and have a nice little chat while I tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me? I don't think!"

Martha's head snapped over to the TARDIS, "Hold on! I know that voice!" she stopped helping us.

"Martha!" I cried, struggling to help Jack on my own, screaming when one of the Futurekind's arm broke through the door's small window.

"I'm asking you really properly! Just stop! Just think!" the Doctor pleaded.

"Use my name," we heard the new man order.

"Master. I'm sorry."

"Tough!"

The TARDIS started wheezing...beginning to de-materialize. The Doctor pointed his screwdriver at it, though it still managed to leave.

"We can't hold on much longer, Doctor!" Jack called.

"Oh, no you don't! End of the universe. Have fun. Bye bye!" the new man shouted joyfully.

"Doctor, stop him!" I shouted frantically, seeing the blue box of wonders disappearing from our very eyes.

#ocappreciation #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who fics #10th doctor fics #doctor who imagine #10th doctor imagine #dw imagine #10th doctor fanfics #oc: Minerva Souza #fic: next stop eveywhere

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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 5 years

Text

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 65)

"Beers, Cheers & Unexpected Tears"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@lovemythsworld

@crystalbaby12

The After Party is raging. The music is loud as shots are flowing. Everyone is laughing and congratulating each other.

Luna and Ashley are changing to join them when Luna notices a singular text amongst dozens. It's from an unknown number.

"Seen U 2nite little one 😛"

"This motherfucker and his burner phones." She thinks, deciding not to delete it this time in case Colson asks. She blocks the new number again and pockets her phone. Luna has a boyfriend to enjoy.

--------------------------------------------------

As soon as he sees her, Colson pulls Luna close. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Kitten. The way you and Ash changed it up was beautiful." He places his hands on the back of her head and back. Kissing her deeply. Any thoughts of Tommy disappearing.

"Thanks for including Case. She had a ball." He tells her, while still holding her.

Luna looks around to spot the little girl, goofing off with Benny and Slim. She smiles as she looks back up at him. "Of course! It wouldn't have been the same without her. Did you see what she drew?" She asks him.

"Yeah, I told you she was hella smart." He answers proudly.

"She must get it from Em." Luna teases him.

"Shut up." He laughs, kissing her again.

"Remind me to grab it before we leave, please. I wanna frame it for her."

"She's so fucking amazing." Colson thinks holding onto her as she rests in his arms.

They're interrupted by Rook. "This is for you." He tells Luna handing her a shot.

Laughing, she easily swallows it whole.

"Where's mine?" Colson complains.

"Bring your asses on then, bitches." Rook jokes.

Luna kisses Colson once more before they follow behind Rook. Luna's grandmother grabs her hand, pulling her back as Colson proceeds on.

"Oh, Luna, you and Ashley were WONDERFUL!! I love how you stripped it down. I feel like it made your message clearer to some who may not have gotten it originally." Patti praises her.

"Thanks Mom-Mom. I didn't think of it that way." She admits before asking her if she'd like another drink.

"I would!!" Joni interrupts them, laughing as she shakes her empty glass. She grabs Luna for a tight hug, making sharp pain shoot through Luna's already pounding shoulder. Pulling back from her, Joni says "You did so great, Luna Bug! I'm so proud of you." before squeezing her tight again.

Luna grins at the old nickname, hugging Joni back and thanking her. Taking the woman's glass, she says "I'll grab you a refill. 7&7?" She asks, to Joni's nod. She already knew. "Mom-Mom?" She asks before heading to the bar.

"I'm okay for the moment, Loons. Thank you though." Pattie says before Luna makes her way off.

--------------------------------------------

Before hitting the bar, Luna stops into the bathroom. Working quickly she crushes up a few percs to bang them. Her shoulder is killing her and she knows between the happiness and hugs, it's only gonna get worse.

-------------------------------------------

"SHOTS!!!!!" Pete hollers, gathering everyone around, as Luna slips back in. "To a great show, great performance and most of all GREAT family!!!!

"CHEERS!!" They all shout as the raise their glasses. Slamming them in celebration.

--------------------------------------------

Everyone is having a good time, mixing with each other. Music and laughter floating through the room. Pete is busting it up with Kate, Colson and Rook. Benny, Baze and Slim are getting more drinks, mixing with the cast and crew. Dom and Ashley talk to Patti and Joni.

--------------------------------------------

"You girls were extraordinary!!" Patti raves at Ashley, after hugging her and Dom warmly. She had met Dom during Christmas, Ashley bringing him to Christmas Eve dinner.

"Thank you so much, Mom-Mom. You know your opinion means the world to me." Ashley beams. She has a great relationship with Luna's grandmother.

They continue talking about upcoming Nightmare performances, life and the album Ashley's working on. Patti watching adoringly as Dom gushes over his girlfriend. Delighted her girls have finally found men who seem to be deserving of them.

Luna drops off Joni's drink without interrupting the conversation. Looking around the same room, she finds Casie sitting and talking with Ashleigh. "Hey Dilla!!" She calls to her with a smile.

Casie looks up, grinning at Luna. She walks over to them and squats down as the little girl jumps into her arms full force. Both Ashleigh and Luna laugh.

"Yup. Percocets." Luna thinks, still feeling a slight throb. Yet, it's much better then it was.

"That was so much fun!" Casie exclaims. Kissing Luna on the cheek and squeezing her tight.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Dilla!!" Luna beams at her, giving her another hug. "Do you have your picture? I wanna save it for you."

"Really!! THANK YOU!!" Casie dives into her again. "I'm gonna go get it!!" The little girl shouts over her shoulder as she runs off.

Colson is watching Luna and Casie. Feeling buzzed, plus overly happy and grateful for his girls, he prepares himself. "Here goes..." He thinks walking over to Pattie.

Luna is still sitting with Ashleigh. "You guys were great!!! It was really cool for you to involve Casie." She says as she smiles at Luna.

"Thanks." Luna smiles back. "I thought it was important, since she was in the video and everything, you know?"

Ashleigh nods. She likes Luna, always has. As she watches her with Colson and Casie, getting to know her better, she likes her even more.

"I'm just glad Emma thought it was just as cool..." Luna continues.

"You guys get along well, don't you?" Ashleigh asks her.

"Oh yeah, Em's fantas...." She's interrupted by a jumping Casie.

"Here it is!!!" She proudly displays her art to Luna and Ashleigh.

Luna takes it from her, saying "I'm gonna put it in my dressing room to keep it safe." as she stands up.

"Okay!!" Casie says, trusting Luna completely. "C'mon Ash!!! I wanna show you something cool!" She tells her, pulling her out of her seat.

"Byeeee..." Both women grin at each other.

As Luna heads to her dressing room, Colson walks over to Pattie and Joni. Ashley and Dom are now over with Pete and Kate. Approaching them, Colson has butterflies in his stomach.

"Fuck.... Fuck.... Fuck.... Get it together Kells." He tries to calm himself down. He's been thinking about this for the last few days. Not knowing when he'll see Pattie again, he tells himself to "Shoot your shot."

"Hello ladies." Colson greets Patti and Joni with his boyish grin.

"How are you, Dear?" Patti asks him with a hug. He hugs Joni also as they praise the performance.

Colson blushes while thanking them but stating humbly that it was all Luna and Ashley.

This makes Patti smile. She likes Colson. Respecting him as a man, parent and an artist. Appreciating how he cares and interacts with her granddaughter and absolutely adoring Casie.

"Do mind if I speak with you for a moment, Patti?" He asks her. There's a slight tremble to his voice.

Taking her cue, Joni heads off to mingle with the other young boys.

"Is everything ok, Colson?" The older woman asks him delicately.

Cheeks flushed, he looks away as he begins to rub his hand on the back of his head. "Yes ma'am." He answers, looking back at her.

"Spit it out, Honey." Patti encourages him.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck." His mind races.

Looking around, he asks if she'd like to sit. She tells him No. That what she would like is for him to talk to her. Patti listens and watches him intensely as he begins to speak.

Her directness reminds him of Luna. "The apple doesn't fall far from that tree." The thought slipping into his mind.

"I uh, I.." Colson stutters. Closing his eyes, he musters up the same courage he found the night he met Luna.

"I love your granddaughter, Patti. I love everything about her. Her strongwill, her kindness, how she loves Casie and Casie loves her. The two of them mean everything in the world to me." He's rambling. "I know it's been a short time and you may think I'm crazy but I don't know what I would do without her. She makes me a better man and even though she doesn't need it, I have this insane urge to protect her." He sighs, looking down at the ground then back up at Patti. "I know it's Luna's choice and being who she is, I don't even know if she'll say yes or when I'll ask but...." He trails off as he inhales deeply. "I'd like to marry her one day and it's important to me how you feel about it."

Colson is nervously waiting for Patti's response. A soft smile spreads over her face. In the seven years Luna had dated and lived with Justin, he had never approached Patti in this capacity.

"When's her birthday?" She asks him. Deciding to have a bit of fun with first.

"July 16,1992." He answers without hesitating.

"What's her biggest fear?" The first was clearly too easy.

"Fame and deep sea diving." Colson states, postive of his answer. This impresses her grandmother.

"Luna's middle name?" Patti knows she hates it and tells very few.

Colson grins, feeling confident. "Adelaide."

Patti decides to dig deeper. "If she asked, would you sign a pre-nup?" Thinking of Luna's inheritance and the rights to both her and Robert's catalogs.

"No doubt." He nods his head, the thought never popping into his mind.

Patti has one last question. "What if she doesn't want to have kids? Would you be okay with that?" This one is very important.

Colson's eyes soften. "Then that's okay. We've talked about her not knowing if she wants to or not. I want you to know, I don't love your granddaughter for what she can or can't give me. I love her for who she is. All parts of her. The independence, the stubborness, the unpredictableness. All of it. Besides, we have Casie." He shrugs lightly.

Patti takes his hand and squeezes it. "She's lucky to have found you. You'll make a great partner. Whether she let's you marry her or not." She tells him kindly.

It takes a minute for it to register with Colson. Once it does, he asks Patti excitedly "Does this means what I think it means!??" Blue eyes bright.

Patti nods as Colson lifts her up for a tight hug. She's laughing when he puts her down.

"Thank you! Thank you!" He says taking both her hands before hugging her again and kissing her cheek. Promising her she has nothing to worry about. That he'll never waver from Luna's side. Married or not.

"Go get her, Kiddo." She tells him with a wink. He kisses her cheek again before asking if she needs anything.

"Go have fun." She tells him with a pleased smile. He thanks her again sincerely before going to check on. Casie.

"What was that?" Joni asks moseying over to her bestfriend.

"He just asked for my granddaughter's hand in marriage." Patti tells her with a pleased look with a mix of amusement.

"I guess chivalry isn't dead." Joni muses, spipping her cocktail, watching the next generation with hope.

Coming back from her dressing room, Luna heads over to Pete, Kate, Ashley and Dom. She doesn't see Colson walking over to them. Casie is now with her grandmother and Joni. Ashleigh is talking with Kenan as The Boys still mixing with the cast and crew.

"Yo! Tonight was epic!" Pete says. Raising his glass, he toasts "To the baddest bitches I know, changing the world one song at a time!" The five of them laugh through their "CHEERS!!"

"I'm always fucking missing out on drinks tonight!" Colson complains with a laugh as he slides his arm around Luna's waist.

"Poor Bunny." Luna leans up, barely reaching his cheek to kiss it. He gives her a boost by the ass. She then turns and grabs him a fresh Rolling Rock off the bar.

"A1, Day 1!" He laughs again while bending down to kiss her.

"So how long have you guys been together?" Kate asks Luna.

"Almost 10yrs in their minds!" Pete teases them to Luna's smirking, rolled eyes and everyone else's laughter.

"No, for real, a little over a month?" Colson answers, looking at Luna to double check.

She shrugs, "Yeah, about a that." She agrees, touching the padlock around her neck.

"Wow, you guys are really in sync with each other." Kate admires.

Luna and Colson exchange that One Look before a quick kiss. "I'm gonna check on Case, come on Pete." He coaxes his friend. Dom had already wondered off towards The Boys.

Ashley, Kate and Luna continue to talk. The bestfriends asking how Kate and Pete met. It wa by random, at a coffee shop in MidTown. Kate asks about Yellowhammer.com and their activism in AL. The girls explaining their work with the ACLU and Planned Parenthood. Kate's quit impressed. She loves how outspoken, motivated and fearless they are as young women. They continue to laugh as they get to know each other better. Ashley deciding she likes Kate. Luna already coming to the same conclusion. Kate's smart and funny. She's also really sweet and mature. Not some little kid who's going to play with their friend's heart.

"Oh, Petey!!!" It's so good to see you, Lovey!!" Patti hugs Pete as he squeezes her back tight.

"Glad you could make it, Pat!" He says with a huge smile as he leans to greet and kiss Joni too.

"How's your mother?" Pat asks him. He responds with a 'GREAT' before Pat tells him to have her call so they can have lunch soon. Complaining how she feels like it's been ages since she's seen her friend. He agrees happily.

"Tell me about this lovely woman you have with you..." Patti changes the subject

Colson laughs as Pete turns as red as a tomato. He's saved by Casie.

"Dad can I stay the night with Ms. Patti and Ms. Joni? We're gonna have a sleep over...." She asks excitedly, looking up at the nodding women beaming down at her.

"Uh... Let's ask Luna." He tells her before calling out "BROOKLYYYN!!" into the crowded room.

His voice makes Luna smile as she turns to find him. He's with Pete, Casie, Joni and her Mom-Mom. Him and Pete are waving her and Kate over.

"Looks like girlfriend duties call!" Ashley laughs. She goes to find Dom as the other women walk over to where they're being summoned.

"Hello, how are you this evening?" Patti asks of Kate with an inviting. Before she can answer, Casie interrupts them.

"Can I spend the night, Looney!? Can I spend the night???" She's jumping up and down.

"Where at, Dilla?" She looks at Colson confused.

"Ms. Patti's. We're gonna have a slumber party with Ms. Joni!!" She explains as she's about to burst.

Colson shrugs and Patti nods when Luna looks at them. "You don't have any clothes...."

"Clothes, smlothes." Her grandmother tells her. "She can sleep in one of my old band Ts. You guys come by tomorrow with fresh clothes and we'll all go out to brunch before you leave again." Patti has it all planned out.

Luna laughs in agreeance, knowing her Mom-Mom had an ulterior motive.

"It's settled then. Why don't you collect your things and say your goodbyes while I talk to Petey." The old woman tells the little girl.

"Petey?" Casie smirks with a laugh. Skipping away she sings

🎶Petey, Petey such a little sweetie🎶

The adults laugh as Luna and Colson follow behind her. Pete going on to finish introducing Kate to Patti and Joni.

"It's an honor." Kate states in awe of the musical legends.

"Ooohhh... I like her." Joni says as they all laugh.

They enjoy polite conversation, Joni recognizing Kate from Pearl Harbor, asking what it was like to work with a young Ben Affleck. Kate laughs sliding her hand into Pete's, saying that they're good friends

Meeting up with Benny, Rook, Ashley, Dom, Slim, Ashleigh and Baze across the room, Casie tells them about her epic night plans as she kisses and hugs them all goodbye. Benny offering to walk Casie, Patti and Joni out to Luna's gratitude.

Heading back to her grandmother, Luna introduces Patti to Benny. "He's gonna walk you guys out. And I don't wanna hear it, Mom-Mom. It's late and you'll have Case with you." Knowing her grandmother's protests of independence.

Listening to her granddaughter, Patti thanks Benny for being a gentleman. Luna kisses and hugs her grandmother and aunt as Colson squeezes Casie goodbye.

They switch off. Colson hugging Patti while whispering 'Thank You' in the old rebel's ear before taking Joni's hand, thanking her for coming and kissing her lightly on the cheek. The two women are smitten by the charismatic young man.

Luna squeezes Casie, telling her to have fun and that she loves her. The little girl grins, saying she will and that she loves Luna too as she squeezes her tight again.

Standing up, Casie turns to Benny, imitating her father "WE OUT!!" she shouts. Erupting the adults into laughter again.

Luna grabs her grandmother's hand, telling her she loves her and to call if she has a problem. Patti squeezes her hand back, reassuring the young woman that they'll be fine. Admiring this new look on Luna.

As they leave, Colson leads Luna over to everyone else by the small of her back. "WE READY TO FUCKING PARTY!!! He shouts as the room erupts.

More drinks are ordered, music bumps and the laughter is contagious. Congratulations still making their rounds.

"Yo! You guys were fire!!" Slim compliments Ashley and Luna.

"Yeah, the way you guys stripped that shit down and then had us come in hard was fucking GENIUS!!" Baze agrees.

Luna and Ashley look at each other beaming.

"We couldn't done any of it without you guys. Seriously, all off you. From playing on it to producing it. This OUR baby, so THANK YOU GUYS!!" Luna lifts her glass. "To family!"

"TO FAMILY!!" They all cheers.

"I have to say, great song, phenomenal performance from you all, BUT, Case stole the show." Ashleigh laughs.

"That girl is smart as a whip!" Benny agrees. "You got your hands full Kells!" He laughs.

"FACTS!!" Rook chimes in, nudging Luna. "You ready for a crazy pre-teen because she's coming our way soon."

Colson overhears them. "That motherfucker better not scare her away." Thinking how he jumped the Patti hurdle, he doesn't need an imaginary one blocking his way to Luna.

"Enh, she's a great kid." Looking at their group, she laughs, "There's not much here for her to rebel against." Rook laughs with her as Luna shrugs and continues "Plus, both Colson and I were bad ass kids. Whatever she may slide passed Emma, she's deff not getting through the two of us."

She looks over and winks at Colson who's staring at her.

"FUCK I LOVE HER." Is all he can think.

Dancing, laughing and drinking, the night carries on. Shots be downed together all over the room.

"To the two chicks I know with balls bigger than most dudes. NOT MINE THO!!" A drunken Slim laughs loudly, cheersing The Girls. Slamming another round with Luna, Ashley and Benny.

Glancing over her shoulder, Luna sees devious Colson and Pete standing in the doorway.

She walks up to them. Before she can all what they're up to, they attack her. Trapping her tiny body between they're two tall, lanky ones.

Rocking her back and forth between the two of them, they sing laughing.

🎶We got a drunken Moon Pie🎶

🎶Not gonna let her get by🎶

Drunk and shocked. With her body bouncing off of them, Luna's bursts into fits of laughter as she begs them to stop.

🎶Even when she asks why🎶

🎶Cuz she's our drunken Moon Pie🎶

They keep shaking her till their song is over. Dizzy from her weird ride, Luna clings to Colson to catch find her balance.

"You guys are fucking maniacs." She laughs, resting her face on Colson's chest. "How long you been planning that?" She asks sarcastically.

"Five WHOLE minutes." Pete tells her, scrunching his face up. "Be careful, or we'll do it again." He warns playfully, sticking his tongue out.

"Is this what I have to live with now?" Luna drops her arms from around Colson. Looking between the two of them with a miffed look on her face.

"Yup." Colson and Pete say in unison, grinning at each other.

🎶We gotta...🎶 They go to start again before she springs out of their grasps.

"Fuck you guys." She laughs, trotting away.

Pete goes to find Kate as Colson chases after Luna, scooping her up from behind. She squeals as he kisses all over the back of her neck. Both are drunk.

"Ready to go?" He asks her. It's close to 3A.

"Yeah, I gotta grab my stuff first." She agrees.

Colson rallies up the bunch while Luna runs to her dressing room. Everyone's going back to the brownstone. Including Dom & Ashley and Pete & Kate. Benny offers to take Luna's bag and Casie's poster. She thanks him with a peck on the cheek.

"WE OUT!" Colson shouts as Luna runs up and jumps onto his back. Even caught off gaurd, he catches her easily.

"HIGH HO SILVER AND AWAY!!" Luna shouts from on top of him.

"You're so fucking weird!!" He laughs as their rowdy group makes their way through the empty building.

"YOOOOOOU LOVE IT!!!" She continues to drunkenly yell. Making him laugh harder.

--------------------------------------------

Back at the brownstone, they find Cards Against Humanity. Rook puts on music. Ashley clears off the kitchen table for Colson, Pete and Slim to start rolling joints. Luna grabs everyone beers while Ashleigh and Kate find snacks. Baze helps Dom set up the game. And Benny's searching for food on his phone. The Stay Fresh is delivering to everyone's drunken, hungry roars. They order a shit ton of wings, mozzarella sticks, cheese fries and more beer.

It doesn't take long for the food to arrive. Munching and drinking, the group passes around joints while they play the game. All of them are drunk and can hardly contain themselves.

Rook laughing hard enough, he falls out of his chair onto the floor. Luna almost losing a mozzarella stick out of her mouth from laughing at him. Colson snorting as he laughs loudly at them both. Everyone else laughing at one of the three of them.

They're so fucked up and distracted, they don't even finish the game. Hanging out, they one by two disappear. Leaving Benny asleep at the kitchen table.

Luna feels bad but Colson reassures her that he's immovable. To leave him be.

--------------------------------------------

Making out on the bed, Colson pulls away from Luna. His drunk eyes stare into hers with fear. He sometimes becomes emotionally vulnerable when he gets really wasted.

"Do you feel alright?" Luna asks, hoping to catch a smile from him. She does but it's tiny and weak as he rolls into his back. "Talk to me Colson." She shifts on her side, stroking his hair.

Staring at the ceiling, he let's out a sigh before telling her "I can't shake this Tommy thing."

"Oooohh Boy." Luna thinks. She's drunk and tired. The sun is coming up and all she really wants to do is fuck and sleep.

"What can't you shake?" She lays her head on his chest, facing him.

"Why you would cheat with him and not me." He tells her quietly.

Luna closes her eyes, trying to keep her patience with him. Sitting up, she climbs on top of him. Placing herself on his groin.

"Because when we seen each other, I was very much in love with Justin. We were still new, intimate, engaged in each..." She looks away, closing her eyes for a moment.

Head swimming from all the shots. Luna's never made it a habit of explaining herself. Drunk or not, she will for Colson though.

"His addiction sent us through spurts where he would shut me out. All of us, only hanging with people he knew wouldn't bitch about him getting high. There were months where we shared the same bed but weren't speaking about anything relevant, let alone fucking. I hooked up with Tommy during one of those cycles. I had felt like Justin had been cheating on me for years. I was pissed and felt rejected. Tommy was an escape that paid attention to me." One solid tear slides down her cheek. He wipes it away as she continues to look at Colson.

"Fuck, that sounds so pathetic." She thinks, disappointed in herself.

"Why didn't you leave him?" He asks her the same question from last night.

Luna sighs. This one is hard. "Because whether I liked his actions or not, at one point he was my bestfriend. I think I loved him so much that I clung to the idea that maybe we could get that back." She looks away, multiple tears dropping now. "Plus, I didn't know if he could survive without me. And that wasn't worth the risk." She wipes her own tears now as she shrugs. Lightly saying, "Didn't matter though, you know. I finally snapped and he killed himself the next day while I was out." She closes her eyes to keep the tears in.

He pulls her down onto his strong chest. Stroking her hair as she silently cries into. "You know it's not your fault." Colson tries to console her.

She sniffles a "Yeah...."

"Sure it's not.... That's why his entire written last words were dedicated to telling me to fuck off.... " She thinks sadly, feeling her soul hurt. Luna will always love the brilliant man she fell in love with. Not the shell Justin had become in the end. Although Luna misses him, she misses the life he should've had more. Even if he wasn't supposed to spend it with her.

**********************************************

Colson's heart rips apart for her. "She's too fucking loyal for her own good..... He didn't fuckinug deserve her..... At all.... Fuck.... And to let her find him... That's some asshole shit." Colson thinks as he holds her tight, vowing to himself to never hurt her.

Their conversation was heavy. Neither wanting to talk anymore, nor needing to. Their bodies telling each other everything they need to know as Luna lays on Colson's chest and he strokes her hair until both their worried minds finally shut off.

--------------------------------------------------

To be continued...

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itad · 5 years

Text

Tonight’s The Night! (part12)

TheDirt! Tommy LeeXReader

Summary: You have been on tour for almost a year, event after event, mile after mile. Your uncle was Doc the manager of Mötley Crüe, one of your favorite bands. He pulled a few strings and got you on this tour for a late birthday present and for making up the lost time from when you didn’t see him much as a child. As he was one of the only ‘father’ figures you had. Recently found yourself thinking more and more of Tommy. Could you possibly be falling in love with the hopeless romantic? If you were could he possibly feel the same?

Taglist: @kellysimagines @bandzrus @lauravic @abbysdogcollar

words: 1805

Today is the day, finally, after hiding from the fans you and Tom were going to come out the public. You and him were going to go out sooner but your modeling career took off and you got busy doing shoots and other stuff. But today you and he were going to sit down on The Tonight Show and address that you and Tommy were, in fact, a couple as rumors started going around that you and him were, in fact, a couple. It was also today you got to see the band and him after they finished their 3-month tour for Dr. Feelgood.

You couldn’t wait.

You say in the chair waiting to get makeup on and them to do something with your hair. Even with the bright blues and reds, you stuck to you browns and blacks creating your classic smokey eye with a nude lipstick. Your hair just the way you liked (personally I like the 6th one but you chose :)). You felt great but, you missed your lover tremendously, and sadly you didn’t know when or if he was here or not and it was about to start.

“Hey, beautiful.” Someone whispered into your ear and you jumped up obviously noticing Tommy’s voice, you squealed and jumped into his arms.

“Oh my god, your here!” You smiled.

“I’m here.” He smiled back at you looking in your eyes. You guys kept PDA a low thing until you guys came out but as of today, you couldn’t care less. You grabbed his face and kissed him with practically all your might. Until you couldn’t no more.

He set you down and looked at you with complete awe. You noticed a few things that were different, the fact he came back with more tattoos and even a nose ring and his hair was short (you know what I’m talking about, ugh so cute). He noticed something different. Like you had some tattoos that weren't in places only you two could see, the smell that was around you was almost heavenly. But of course, you looked and smiled the same beautiful way he left you in.

“You're going on in 15.” The stage people announced.

You were of course in your classic cheetah print pants and a white crop top and a black cover-up, paired with your black leather boots. Tommy in his Harley Davidson long sleeve shirt and his beloved leather pants. You and him both walk out to the stage from the side entrance, waving at the people in the rows of seat clapping, hollering. You both sat down and prepared yourself for the questions.

“So Tommy, You were just on tour for what 3 months for Mötley Crües Dr.FeelGood, how does it feel to be back home?”

“It feels amazing honestly, I’m where I’m supposed to be. I missed my home, I love touring and all I just don’t like to be away from my home anymore.” He looked at you and smiled.

Johnny asked more questions about the band and if there were to be any more tour dates. Then finally focusing on you

“And Y/N, after traveling with the band last year you now are one of the most famous models, how does it feel? You look great by the way” Johnny Carson asked politely.

“Thanks John, and it honestly feels amazing seeing my face on billboards and shit, since I was a little girl I’ve either wanted to be a model or be in a band,” You smiled and looked at Tommy then looked at Johnny “It also feels amazing because all of the people I meet, all the fans all the photographers, clothing designers. But I think today would be the best day of this year.” You smiled looking out into the crowd.

“Okay, you guys we’ll be asking the crowd what their rumors are about the band or Y/N, Tommy, or even the two, right after this break.”

You two had 5 minutes to refresh your self, and you two were back to the chairs.

“Alright we’re here with Y/F/N Y/L/N and Tommy Lee and we’re letting the fans ask them the rumors they might have heard.” Everyone clapped and you positioned your self to be comfortable in the chair.

“Hi my names Samantha and there’s a rumor going around and it has for a while, Y/N cheated on Nikki, is that true?”

“Hi, Samantha. No actually, nobody cheated on anyone we just felt that we weren’t simply meant to be together.” You smiled the best you could as the thought that you cheated swarmed your mind.

“Hi Tommy my names Max, I was wondering what happened to Heather. You were going to get married to her? Correct? You guys were such a cute couple.”

Your jaw clenched as she finished her question.

“Hi Max, me and Heather didn’t work out and the truth of it all, I wasn’t in love with her like I thought I was.”

Some guy stood up “Hi my name daniel, and 1. Y/N your Hot I have your posters on the wall and 2. Tommy so was there someone else you were in love with?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Daniel.” You called out He was a handsome young man.

“Hello I’m Cindy, and there has been a rumor that the two of you are seeing each other and possibly even dating.”

You smiled. Finally “ Yes we are seeing each other Cindy. I don’t know about dating yet but seeing each other yes.”

“Oh Y/N yes were dating Cindy.” Tommy grabbed a hold of your hand. You remembered the red carpet.

“Okay, all the time we have left today thank you, everyone, for watching.”

After the camera cut, you and Tommy meet some fans, signed some things and then made it back to the dressing room. As soon as you heard the door click then Tommy locked it, you ran to him, jumped and kissed him. Hard. You wanted him the whole time the two of you were out there.

“Some. One. Miss. Me?” Tommy mumbled in between the sloppy kisses you made.

“mmmm.” Your lips danced down his soft skin, licking then biting on the skin.

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we just go home and cuddle and watch movies?”

“Tommy Lee doesn’t want to do a quickie. Have you not missed me?” You teased. As you climbed down from the tall man.

“Of course I would love to but I’m just really tired and of course I missed you like crazy.” His smile was small but fucking adorable.

“Okay.” You smiled and grabbed your things.

“I’ll meet you at home?” He looked down at you, the tiredness running through his bright eyes.

“ Yeah of course.” You were a hot mess as he leaned over to kiss you. You kissed back until he pulled away. And left, There was something about that kiss that left you wild and hungry.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but in reality, you were in your train of thought and then snapped out of it walking to your Ford Mustang with a convertible top. You got in and drove him. Your mind not on the road but what would happen when you got home.

Finally, you entered the gated community in which you newly reside in. It was a fairly big community of the rich and the famous life. Your house was by no means the biggest in the community. But it was enough for you and Tommy who was now going to be living with you. Like the house he built with Heather was for Heather and he gave it to her. You couldn’t be happier.

You pulled up to your driveway, you stopped and admired the house that in a matter of second became a home you could imagine everything from your wedding to bring home your first child (one day). The gray siding looking less dull then yesterday, and the bright red door looked more ‘homey’ the door is what set off from the rest of the house on your block as there’s were more neutral. You smiled softly before finally pulling into the driveway, getting out and locking the car and walked into the house finding Tommy leaning against the entryway. A soft smile was appearing on his beautiful face.

You kicked off your heels shrinking to your original height, before making your way over to the tall lanky man that stood before you. You wrapped your arms around d the drummer's waist and looked up at him. Tommy wrapped his arms around your shoulders. A soft smile landed on your lips as you leaned up on your tippy-toes to kiss the boy you fell in love with, him leaning down to capture your lips in his.

The kiss wasn’t rough and it wasn’t like you guys needed to do it quickly, the kiss was soft and gentle like you guys had all the time in the world to make this kiss last. The kind of kiss you would think to see in the movies in the rain. The kind that gave you butterflies from your toes to your head. The kind you sensed the fireworks would start to explode. Like you guys not only missed each other but actually needed one another every day.

You pulled away a retreated from your tippy toe position and pulled away all together making your way to your couch before patting the couch for Tommy to sit on. You then walked to your room taking off everything and putting on Tommy’s tour shirts. Finding your way back the living room to find Tommy now laying on the couch in only his boxers, not like he wanted anything sexually but like he was inviting to cuddle. You climbed on top of him and wrapped a blanket around the two of you. Tommy turned the TV on, but only for background noise.

With one hand he was playing with either your hair or your fingers, as he switched from time to time. With his other hand, it laid either on your ass or on your lower back. Both of you laid there until drifting to sleep.

Before you fell asleep. You realized that the house you may sleep in and take a shower in is just a house, but what made it home was Tommy, and in all of his flaws, his dreams, his will, his choices. You would not only support him but help him accomplish them. Because a life without Tommy was a life that wasn’t worth living. But also who would’ve thought that you would’ve made it here. With him.

#motley crue #motley #mgk!tommy lee #mick mars #music #2019 #vince neil #imagine #image #the dirt imagines #iwan rheon #the dirt fic #the dirt fanfiction #thedirt #tommy lee #nikki sixx #daniel webber #douglas booth

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geekofmanyforms · 5 years

Text

New Beginning

Chapter Three

***This chapter has been edited by my wonderful Beta Casey. Let us know what ya think.***

Familiar soft lips caressed my neck, as calloused fingers lovingly stroked my hair. A pair of strong arms wrapped me in a firm embrace, and I couldn't remember the last time I had felt this safe, this loved. A warm summer breeze filtered through the trees around us, and I could smell the sweet scent of the woods we were hiding away in. The fingers of the man I was wrapped up in traveled towards my chin — lifting my face to meet his — and I found the most beautiful blue eyes. I reached out, running my fingers through his long blonde hair and smiled, brushing my lips against his. When our mouths met, it was like something inside me had finally found its place. His lips caressed mine, slowly for a moment, before he pulled me hard against his chest; his insistent hungry mouth parting my eager lips. I was clay in his hands, being formed into something beautiful and new. I gasped as his tongue ran across my lower lip. The heavy beating of my heart sped up to a crescendo, the beats seeming to spell out one word. Home, Home, Home.

Everything about this man felt right. My skin tingled as he ran his hands down my waist, lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around him, giggling as he walked me over to the nearest tree; backing me up against it. A deep moan reverberated through his chest and I sighed loudly, grasping his hair tightly in my hands. Before I could pull him towards me for another kiss: a loud banging echoed throughout the woods, the trees surrounding us shook with each bang — their leaves falling to the forest floor. I blinked wildly in amazement, glancing around us at the falling leaves. I looked at the man — who it seemed was still caught up in our shared moment — and seemingly unaware of what had just occurred. Shaking my head, I decided to ignore it and just enjoy the firm God in front of me. I leaned forward, my lips hungry for his, but again before I could taste him, another loud bang echoed through the forest. The tree I was being held up against shook violently, my back arching in protest as my spine vibrated. I lowered myself to the ground, sighing deeply. My eyes tried to stay focused as the world around me started to become fuzzy; darkening around the edges. A dream. This had all been a dream. I held on tightly to the man."The Hybrid," my mind finally supplied. I took in one last look, his blue eyes sparkled as he smiled down at me. My Nik.

"Elarrrraaaa?!"

My eyes flew open at the loud banging on my bedroom door. I looked over at the clock and groaned — it was way too early for this.

"Elara?! You up yet? " Jeremy hollered through the door obnoxiously.

"Jer! I'm awake, for God's sake! Please end your obnoxious yammering!" I yelled back.

This earned me a laugh from the other side of my door. I pulled the pillow over my face, trying to remember the dream I had been having. It involved me and a particular Original Hybrid. I'm not really sure if it was a dream, or maybe memory. Whatever it was, it had been good — no — great.

It had also been a nice reprieve from all the stress that I had piling up since meeting with the Salvatores. Seeing Damon had let loose all of my memories. Now I knew everything. I knew how I had become a Reincarnate, why I live life over and over again. Being cursed by the Original witch over a thousand years ago: I will forever be forced to live until my eighteenth birthday, when the curse will activate, sending me on to a premature and painful death. Then, I will be reborn starting a new life. In my new life, I may or may not remember my past, and who I have been to others. It really depends on what sparks a memory. That's one of the worst parts of it, losing huge chunks of my life for long periods of time. I placed my fingers on the bridge of my nose, placing pressure against a potential headache.

I heard rustling from beside me, "What do you want Bekah?" I moaned in frustration, my voice muffled through the fluffy pillow.

A small sigh erupted to my left. I pulled the pillow away from my face and turned my head. As I was expecting, Rebekah sat beside me, head tilted downwards as she twirled a piece of her curly blonde hair between her fingers. Her white flapper girl dress, as always, brought a smile to my face.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked, "Oh, don't tell me the eldest Salvatore has already put you under his spell?"

She made a few dramatic gagging sounds as I threw my pillow at her. I knew full well it wouldn't do anything but fly right through her, but I just liked making her laugh. She has enough pain to deal with, so, when she visits me, I try to make it better, even if it's only for a moment.

I succeeded; She laughed brightly at my false attempt to hit her. I winked and flopped out of bed, and then made my way to my closet.

"If I remember correctly, you fell for the charms of Salvatore once as well, sister,"

I moved a few outfits around and then looked back at her with a smile.

"So Beks, are you gonna help me decide what to wear while your here? I know how much you love today's fashion..." I joked, earning an eye roll.

she sighed. "Ugh, no. Sadly I'm here on business,"

My smile died as she eyed me warily. I lowered the clothes I had in my hands and tried to keep my face from showing too much trepidation. She stood and eerily made her way towards me, her eyes sad and distant — this couldn't be good.

"What is it this time, Rebekah? You know I don't have long to help you anyways," I whispered.

I was using this moment to casually let loose that I had restored all of my memories. Rebekah frowned at me, knowing what I meant, but not knowing I had found out about my impending doom. I needed to tell her that when I had remembered Damon, I had recalled everything about my curse. Including everything that came with it, my life with the Originals being a huge part of that. Katherine, Emily, and I had discussed my curse during the life I had spent with the Salvatores, just before I had died when she had been shacking up with the brothers. I should have hated her, and I did, to an extent, but I had lived too many lives to judge hastily. Damon was as much to blame for coming back early and not finding me as she was.

Rebekah stopped in her tracks, watching my expression closely with watery blue eyes. I turned away from her, placing the clothes I had been holding back in my closet. I casually looked through a few more options as I swallowed deeply, trying to remove the lump in my throat.

"I just turned 17, Beks — which means the curse will take effect on my next birthday. I only have a year,"

I fought back tears as she brushed her hands through her curls nervously. She stepped forward, joining me in front of my closet.

"When did you remember?" she whispered.

I looked into her eyes, ignoring the grey, ghosty sheen of her skin.

"When my memories of Damon were restored, I remembered everything Katherine had told me the day before I died," I explained.

Her eyes rounded — her confusion was evident. I guess I'd never told her about Katherine.

"Katerina once told you about the curse...?" she asked in shock.

I nodded slowly, wary of her reaction. "Even if she hadn't, all of the memories of my initial life with you and your family came back to me as well. The ones with Katherine were just shown to me first."

Bekah placed a hand on her hip and raised a brow, clearly wanting a more thorough answer. I rolled my eyes and took another outfit from the rack, letting out an exasperated huff when Bekah shook her hand in front of it with a disgusted frown. I placed it back on the shelf and continued.

"Katherine and I have always had an understanding," I said nonchalantly.

It was hard to explain my relationship with Katherine. My time with the Salvatores was not the first I had met Katerina Petrova. Rebekah narrowed her eyes at me, knowing I wasn't entirely open with her.

"Listen Beks, trust me, kay? I promise to help you as much as I can between now and my next birthday," I pleaded,

I threw out my best puppy dog eyes; some of the things I remembered needed to stay with me for now. Let's just say, I had done something the Original Hybrid wouldn't be too fond of...

Rebekah tilted her head before nodding quickly, her blonde hair bouncing. "Ok, well I just wanted to let you know your old pal Katerina is on her way here. She plans on setting things up ahead of Nik. She hopes to earn her freedom by helping with his curse,"

Rebekah let out a haughty laugh. I frowned profoundly and sent my closet a brief look of disdain before I walked over to my chest of draws. I grabbed my nearest pair of jeans and hopped lightly to get my foot in the leg. Rebekah watched me in interest, still adjusting to the fashion of this period.

"So, that's just great. Does she know about me yet?" I growled in annoyance, throwing out my best bit of sarcasm.

I blew a bit of hair out of my face, glanced back at Rebekah, then yanked a black tank top over my head.

"No, not yet. I'm sure she would have called Elijah already if she had,"

She observed my face and shook her head when I reacted as expected. A small smile lifted the edge of my lips at Elijah's name. I missed him, he had always been a brother to me. I ignored Rebekah's smirk and headed over to my vanity, plopping myself down on the stool. I grabbed my hairbrush, quickly yanking it through my tangled red hair. I could see Rebekah in the reflection of my mirror, wincing as I manhandled my hair. She reached out towards me, her hand hovering inches lovingly from my head. She flexed her fingers as if she wanted to run them through my fiery locks as she once had, before pulling away slowly and frowning. She had always loved brushing my hair. I pulled the brush away and sent her a half-smile. I turned around on my stool and looked up into her eyes.

"Soon, Beks. I promise. I will get you out of that coffin," I said as my voice broke.

Rebekah leaned down towards me and ran a finger over the air near my cheek, a lost look shadowing her eyes.

"I know you will. If anyone can, it will be you."

Standing back up, she tossed a few loose curls over her shoulder and looked down at me with a cheeky grin.

"And, to answer the question you refuse to ask but are dying to know, Elijah is doing fine."

She looked away and frowned deeply as she closed her eyes, lowering her head she began rubbing her neck roughly.

"That being said...so is Nik. He is excited about getting closer to ending his curse," she said, the last bit with strong distaste in her voice.

I took in a sharp breath and turned back around, avoiding her searching reflection as I rolled my eyes, shrugging nonplussed. She knew where I stood on the subject of the Hybrid in question, so why bring it up?

"Elandra, just be careful this time — you know it has always ended badly. The first is why you were cursed, to begin with. Our family isn't good for you," she said regretfully.

I looked up at her reflection with a questioning look and found myself sinking into her deep blue eyes. I didn't want to discuss Nik. It was a sore subject for me. She knew that better than anyone — her entire family did.

"Beks, I have no plans to repeat the past. After all, it would be ludicrous to even try. It's not like it could last, and I don't think he could handle it," I whispered "I don't wish to be the cause of one of his massacres — not again," I added, placing my brush back on the table.

Her face filled with understanding. We had been through so much together, and I would be forever grateful for whatever allowed her to visit me while she was in the in-between. I stood up and turned around, standing face to face with the apparition of my best friend and soul sister. I brought my fingers close to her transparent face and traced the air near her cheek. I wanted to get as close to her as possible, even if neither she nor I could feel it.

"I gotta go, sis. Check-in with me later, ok?" I asked with a smile.

She agreed with a silent nod before disappearing entirely. I took a deep breath and sprayed myself with my Burberry perfume before grabbing my red bag and heading downstairs. Jenna and Elena were talking as I entered the kitchen.

"Elena, Do I look like an adult? As in respectfully parental?" Jenna asked.

I caught the brown doe eyes of my fraternal twin sister scan my outfit with distaste. My shoulders sagged, and I tried to keep my mood from falling as fast as my stomach when I noticed how utterly flawless she looked — as always. Her long, silky brown hair caught the light from the kitchen window as she moved around the room. Damned perfect Petrovas. I shook off my self-consciousness and gave Jenna a thumbs up brightly.

"Depends on where you're going," Elena said flatly.

I rolled my eyes at Elena and grabbed a pop tart from the cabinet.

"Don't listen to her Jenna, you look hot — and a respectful hot at that!" I laughed.

She gave me a small twirl before she spoke, a laugh still in her voice.

"Jeremy's parent-teacher conference — Hair up or down?" she asked.

She pulled her hair up, and then let it fall to demonstrate. I shrugged.

"Well, one is sexy stewardess," I said. "The other-"

"-Boozy housewife," Elena interjected.

Jenna smiled at us both. "Up it is. You're both feisty today," she said.

"Well I don't know about Elara, but I feel good today, which is rare, so I've decided to go with it. Fly free, walk in the sunshine, and all that stuff," Elena said.

Elena took a bite of her apple as she eyed my pop tart with distaste. I bit into it forcefully, moaning loudly and rolling my eyes into the back of my head.

"I'm just a happy go lucky kinda gal, Aunt Jenna, ya know that. Can't be sad forever," I looked around the kitchen as I made my way to the fridge for some lemonade. "Where is Jeremy?"

Elena looked at Jenna expectantly.

"He left early. Something about getting to woodshop early to finish a birdhouse," Jenna said, shrugging slightly.

I glanced at Elena, and our eyes met for a moment before looking back at Jenna. I popped open the lid of my lemonade and took a swig. Poor Aunt Jenna…

"There is no woodshop... is there?" she asked, her tone falling.

"No," Elena and I said in unison.

Jenna shook her head and placed a hand on her forehead. I stepped up beside Elena and took her hand, leaving Jenna to prepare for her conference, knowing she wouldn't be happy afterward. Jeremy hadn't been coping very well. It was harder on him and Elena then it was for me. After all, these weren't the first parents I had lost. It really does get more comfortable with time. I would see them and all of my other families again very soon, even if it would only last a short time before my next reincarnation.

"I'm driving, Lena!" I shouted.

I snatched the keys from her hands swiftly. Elena sighed and tossed her bag in the back seat before hopping into the passenger side. I slipped behind the car and got into the driver's side. I really loved driving and wanted to take advantage while I could. I never knew if there would still be cars when I lived next. We all could be Apparating everywhere by then. That would be so cool!

"What are you thinking about? You have a huge grin on your face," Elena questioned

"The future. Just wondering about the future," I said, sliding on my sunglasses.

I looked into the rearview, briefly noticing a grey-skinned, blonde-headed Original, smirking and shaking her head from the back seat. I ignored her and continued driving to one of the seven circles of hell, also known as High School.

Elena and I sat quietly in History while Mr. Tanner rattled on about Mystic Falls 145 years ago. Ugh, like I wanted to relive that. It had been rough enough the first time, with corsets and fluffy full-size dresses.

I kept my eyes planted on the shy flirting going on between Stefan and my sister. His spiky dark hair was easy enough to find in a small group like this, even without his striking good looks to add with it. I started keeping a tally of every time they would glance at one another, only to quickly look away. It was sickening. Of course, anyone with my past love life would be annoyed by new, young love — well, young on my sister's side, that is.

I laughed at my own joke, earning a look from Mr. Tanner. I smiled sweetly and ushered for him to continue. I started watching the time instead of the young couple when they finally stopped their glances after getting caught by Mr. Tanner.

I giggled quietly as the bell rang, giving me my freedom. School is a terrible burden after so many centuries of being forced to go. I sidestepped after almost bumping into Elena, waiting by the door for Stefan. I was about to walk away when I noticed him pull a copy of Wuthering Heights from his bag. I snatched it out of his hands quickly, shocked when I turned it to the title page and found my former initials in the corner, written clearly in ink and quill. I caught Stefan's weary gaze and quickly looked at a shocked Elena. I must look like a crazy person to her. My face pale, green eyes wide and hurt. It was silly feeling betrayed by Stefan, but I did. He had given me this book on my very last birthday, and now he was handing it over to my sister. Was he giving it to her? I cleared my throat and handed it to her.

"Wow, a first edition. That's... awesome," I said, a lump in my throat.

I excused myself before Stefan could stop me. I ran into the bathroom and found an empty stall just as a flashback took over. I could see my eighteenth birthday celebration at the Salvatore manor. Katherine, Stefan, and his father surrounded me with smiles on their faces. I knew somewhere Damon was hiding out, too scared to tell me he was home and in love with someone else. Stefan had set up the whole thing, knowing how sad I would be without Damon. I watched myself open up Stefan's gift to me. Wuthering Heights. I had been so excited to read it, even if I knew I never would, at least not as Elandra. I snapped out of the past and back into the present, sweat covering my face and arms.

I was shaking as a headache took over. I wobbled on the way to the sink. I turned on the faucet and filled my cupped hands with cold water, pouring it over my face and onto my neck. I held onto both sides of the sink and looked at myself. My dark, auburn red hair, was matted to my pale face, my ordinarily green eyes were dulled by a rampaging migraine that was quickly consuming me. I looked away from my pallid features and took a few deep breaths. Bright red against the surrounding snow-white caught my attention, and I looked down to find drops of crimson blood had fallen into the sink, I reached up and wiped the blood from my nose. I quickly rinsed off my hand and grabbed a paper towel. I could hear someone enter the bathroom but didn't bother looking at whoever it was. My head was tilted up, eyes focused on the ceiling as I tried to stop the annoying nosebleed that occasionally accompanied my migraines.

"Are you ok? I saw you run in here," Caroline asked.

I turned my eyes in her direction and shook my head gently my neck, joining in on the party of pain. I was beginning to feel weak and tired. The agony in my head was almost too much to bear. I looked at Caroline and frowned.

"Yeah, sure. Just one of my headaches," I tried.

She gave me a dirty look, always knowing when I was lying.

"Let me take you home, ok?" she asked, reaching out and taking the hand that wasn't trying to contain my nosebleed. She knew how bad my headaches could get, and I appreciated her concern but knew she couldn't help me, not this time. I pulled away and grabbed my bag, wiping at my nose one last time.

"That's ok Care Bear, I'll have Elena drive me. I'll meet up with you later," I said, heading towards the door.

Caroline pulled my hair away from the strap of my bag and patted my upper back with a sad smile. I squinted at the bright lights of the hallway as I opened the bathroom door, absently waving goodbye as I quickly headed away. I needed help, and I knew where I could get it. This headache was unlike the others. I had taken in too many memories in the last two days. I felt like I was dying, and since it was all because of the Salvatores, a Salvatore was gonna fix it. I pushed open the doors leading to the parking lot and stepped into the shadows at the side of the building.

"Stefan!" I called out, knowing if he were near, he would hear me.

After only five seconds, I felt a gush of wind, and the youngest Salvatore stood in front of me. I knew he could smell the blood because his face scrunched up in fear and thirst. I started to wobble again, and he quickly caught me.

"Elandra! What happened?!" he whispered in panic, his eyes running over me searching for an injury.

"The memories, they are too much this time. Please help me...it hurts, Stefan," I cried, falling to my knees in front of him.

He looked around, trying to figure out how to help me. His confusion was starting to annoy me, so I pulled his warm wrist to my lips for a second, unable to speak anymore. Even the sound of the breeze around us was like a knife to my head. Lifting me back to my feet, he finally understood what I needed. He bit into his wrist, then slowly placed it against my lips. Trying to ignore the foul, metallic taste of the thick warm liquid, I drank heavily for a moment. It was gross, but I was already feeling better. I leaned against Stefan, letting the last of the pain disappear.

"Thank you," I said, wrapping my arms around him.

He brushed my hair down and patted me lightly on the back. I could tell he was uncomfortable, so I stepped back to give him his space. Blood sharing could be very intimate, and for us, it was weird and awkward.

"Are you ok now?" he asked gently.

I wiped my mouth with the paper towel I still had and nodded.

"Yes, it's just a lifetime of memories coming back in a matter of days. Not to mention the memories I still have of this life and others. It's too much for my human mind sometimes," I explained.

We both looked around; luckily, we were still alone in the shadowed alcove off to the side of the school. The leaves rustled around us as we quickly stepped from the shadows, joining everyone else. Stefan tensed behind me and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him towards the parking lot. A large crowd was gathering, laughing and shouting, I was confused until I noticed Tyler and Jeremy standing in a defensive stance in front of each other. I moaned in annoyance as Jeremy shoved Tyler against his car.

"Walk away, Gilbert. It's your final warning," Tyler spat, his hands fisted in Jeremy's shirt.

I let go of Stefan's hand and ran ahead. I quickly stepped in between Tyler and my idiot brother, my hands outstretched on either side. I looked at them both as my red hair flew around me. They both stood back with their fists clenched in front of them, ready for a fight and breathing heavily. I could feel my magic trying to aid me, but I kept it pushed down.

"Listen, Ty, please let it go," I begged him, my eyes pleading.

His own eyes softened for a moment until Jeremy ruined everything by opening his big mouth, unaware of Tyler's little wolfie problem, which makes it very difficult for him to control his temper.

I had been able to sense Ty's inner wolf ever since the first day I met him. As a witch — it had always been something I had been able to do. At this moment, I could sense his inner wolf, teeth bared in anger. Even if he had yet to activate his curse, the wolf was still there — waiting to be released. Tyler's aura was flaring violently at Jeremy's challenge.

"No, this is your final warning, dick. I'm sick of watching you play Vickie. If you hurt her one more time, I swear to God I will kill you," Jeremy threatened.

Tyler moved towards him, and I quickly stepped in front of him, pushing against Jeremy, forcing my brother to walk away. Stefan followed right beside us with Elena observing Tyler. Where had she been during this whole thing? I shoved a protesting Jeremy into the back seat of my car, capturing several odd stares from the people around us, especially Stefan. He knew I shouldn't have the strength I do. I ignored them all and kept my focus on Jeremy, still trying to get at Tyler. I slammed his door shut and turned towards Elena. She was standing beside Stefan, her hand in his and face lined with stress.

"You coming, Lena?" I asked her in a huff of breath.

She looked at Stefan and sighed before hopping in the passenger seat.

"Elandra, we need to talk. There are still a few things I'd like to know," Stefan whispered before I could get in the car.

I stared right at him, officially done with the day. He observed me like I was a wild animal that could bolt at any moment.

"Yeah, I'm sure there are, but right now I'm dealing with family issues. I'm sure you can understand that." I told him, leaning into the car.

I stopped and looked over the top of the car and straight at him again. "Oh, and you need to tell my sister what she is and what you are," I whispered, almost silently, knowing he could hear me.

His face froze, but I didn't care. It needed to be said, especially since Katherine was on her way — along with someone much worse. I slid into the car and started it up. I pulled out of the parking lot with my two annoyed siblings in tow. I tried to ignore the thoughts that tried to fight their way into my head.

Who is going to take care of them when I have to leave?

These are the types of thoughts that keep me up at night. Though this was the main thought, I would have every lifetime, this one I seemed to have it more than usual.

As we pulled into our driveway, Jeremy jumped out of the car and took off for the house. Before I could shut off the engine, Elena insisted she needed to make a pit stop. I huffed, irritated that my precocious twin sister was dragging me off to who knows where.

She coerced me to stop the car in front of the Salvatore Boarding House and hopped out quickly. I shut off the car and jumped out after her; I could sense only one brother home, and it was not the one she was looking for.

I stepped in front of Elena and opened the door without knocking, heading inside.

Elena stood on the front porch, her face scrunched up in shock.

"You can't just burst into someone's house, El!" she quickly protested.

"Come on, Lena. Stop being so perfect!" I whined.

Elena's mouth fell open, and she grunted in annoyance, snapping her mouth closed with a huff.

"Fine. Stefan? Stefan?" she called out.

I left her in the doorway and went to make myself a drink. I avoided the red stuff that they had, yet again, haphazardly left in a jug by the Scotch. I would need to remind them that they were supposed to be playing human, and humans tended to keep their blood inside them — not on their bars. I rolled my eyes and tuned in to Elena, now speaking to the elder Salvatore brother.

"You must be Elena. I'm Damon, Stefan's brother," Damon said.

I stepped into the entrance and leaned against the wall a few feet behind Damon. I smiled, inwardly at his predatory posture. He was so different from the man I had once loved, but centuries of a life cursed with Vampirism would do that, I figured.

Especially when he spent that life hell-bent on revenge.

I was told the story of their Vampiric life by none other than the one who had ruined it, Katherine. She had found me centuries after I had left the life I had lived with the Salvatores. She owed me a life debt and wanted to repay it by helping me with my curse. I had saved her life once when she had still been a human. Saving her had led me to my own death, due to a very angry Hybrid. I had met Katherine when she was due to be sacrificed and pitied her. I hadn't been aware of who she was at the time and decided to help her. I very stupidly helped her escape her captivity. I hadn't received all my memories in that life yet, so I was unaware of exactly why she was being sacrificed. When Nik came across me later, he was unaware that I wasn't a doppelganger of the woman he once knew, but her reincarnated. He was already beyond angry at Katherine's escape, so in his fury, he snapped my neck.

That was the only time Nik had ever seen me; I keep myself hidden from him and Elijah. The only Originals to know of my existence and curse are Kol and Rebekah. For now, at least, they are both daggered. As far as Rebekah knows, Nik is still unaware of my affliction.

I followed Damon and Elena into the living room, staying out of Damon's view. He was so enamored with my sister that he hadn't even noticed me yet. I ignored my silly jealousy, reminding myself that this life was just as temporary as the others, and the Salvatores had always had a soft spot for the Petrova doppelgangers. I was snapped out of my daydreaming by the mention of Stefan's ex. I stepped further into the shadows of the large living room, curiously awaiting Elena's response. Was he going to tell her what she was?

"The last one?" Elena asked.

Damon stood in front of her place on the couch. "Yeah. Katherine, his girlfriend? Oh, you two haven't had the awkward exes talk yet," he said, feigning embarrassment.

"Nope," Elena spoke softly, looking down at her fidgeting hands.

Damon gasped slightly. "Oops, well, I'm sure it will come up now. Or maybe he didn't want to tell you because he didn't want you to think he was on the rebound. We all know how those relationships end,"

I leaned against the bookcase behind me. Damon was definitely trying to come between Stefan and Elena, and that wasn't something my Damon would have ever done. I guess the man I knew really was gone…

I ignored the rest of their conversation and decided to head upstairs. I was bored with eavesdropping, so snooping it was. I opened every door I walked passed until I found a bedroom that could only belong to Damon. It was a warm and inviting room, with a massive four-poster king-size bed that sat in the middle of the room. A pile of books sat beside the bed, and I chuckled at the memories they invoked. He had always loved reading before bed.

I walked over to the large oak chest of drawers along the right side of the room and pulled open the first drawer.

"Silk boxers, huh," I said with a chuckle, lifting a jet black pair with a grin.

I closed the drawer and moved on to the next. Unexpectedly, I found a small leather photo album underneath a pair of jeans. I checked over my shoulder towards the door to make sure I was still alone, then slowly opened the album. The first picture was of Katherine, of course. I fought my irritation and flipped to the next page. Next was Damon and Stefan on their horses, faces lit up with silent laughter. I smiled down at this picture, knowing that I had been just out of view happily laughing with the man I loved and my future brother-in-law. I flipped to the next image and held in a gasp. It was me.

I was in the garden, painting. My long hair fell gracefully against my back, and concentration was plastered on my face.

"That's my favorite," Damon said from the doorway.

I jumped, dropping the album. Luckily, it never hit the floor. I felt a stiff breeze, and Damon was beside me, holding the pictures in his hands.

"This is very fragile — we don't want it destroyed, now do we," he said, stiffly.

I looked into his crystal blue eyes and almost forgot that we had ever been apart.

"It's the picture I gave you when you left," I whispered,

It took me a moment to remember my manners, but I was just so shocked he still had it. I stepped away and leaned my head down.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have invaded your privacy,"

I walked further away from him and sat down on his bed, crossing my feet beneath me. He eyed me closely.

"You're different," he said.

"Well, yeah, of course, I'm a bit different. This is a different era. I've lived several lives since we last met," I chuckled, brushing my hair over my shoulder.

Damon sat beside me, taking my hand in his. "I thought I'd never see you again. I never forgave Stefan for what happened to you," he spat.

I gave his hand a squeeze and pulled away, wrapping my arm around his shoulder.

"Damon, it wasn't his fault — I chose to walk home alone. He didn't even know I had left until it was too late."

I wanted to tell him it wasn't his either, but that would mean revealing that fact that I had known all along about his early return from the war, and that he had chosen Katherine. I was sure blaming Stefan for my demise was just a way to hate someone else for what he really blamed himself for.

Damon turned away from me, pain written all over his face. "Did you suffer?" he asked, his voice cracking.

I didn't expect that question, so I wasn't sure whether to tell him the truth or not. Yes, I suffered. Of course, I did. It's a part of the curse; every death I face must be painful. Looking at his awaiting face, I knew I couldn't tell him that. Only two people knew — Katherine and Rebekah.

"No, It was quick," I whispered, choking back the truth.

He ran his fingers through my hair, his eyes asking me for permission. The world around me froze. I wanted to kiss him, to feel the love that had once lived between us, but something was stopping me. I could list off all the reasons why I shouldn't kiss Damon, but the one real reason that was holding me back at this moment had escaped me. Still, I knew I had to say no.

"Damon, we can't. Not now. I'd like to get to know you again, and there are a few things you need to work through — like Elena and Katherine,"

I knew he still held a torch for Katherine. She had really dug her claws into him. I stood, allowing the distance to snap him back into reality.

"You're right. How did you know about Katherine and me?" he asked, almost guiltily.

I wrung my fingers together, the awkwardness of the question makes me nervous.

"She told me, actually. I met her again in the life after the one I shared with you," I said,

I decided to keep the fact that I knew he was with her while he was supposed to be with me to myself. Some things I'd hoped to never rehash, although, I hoped that he would really listen to me and understand what I was saying as I revealed the truth of her location. Naturally, he chose to ignore it. Damon's face fell.

"Listen, I never expected you to stay celibate, Damon," I laughed.

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I couldn't hold his gaze.

"So, there's been others for you...?" he asked grumpily.

I kept my eyes on my feet and shuffled slightly.

"Yes, Damon. I have even loved again, but you have to remember, I didn't always remember you...us. Those memories don't always return," I told him.

He sped in front of me, causing me to yelp in surprise. He leaned in, his nose inches from mine, his eyes looked me over slowly.

"Well, now that I have you back, you should know, I won't give you up again so easily," he said firmly.

I wanted to tell him the truth that he would lose me again in only a year, but I refused to see that kind of pain on his face. After all, he would let me go, he would let me go for Elena. She was as much his weakness as his brother's. I knew after he realized that Katherine wasn't as trapped as he thought she was, he would finally realize she never truly loved him. It would always be Stefan, and truthfully, not even him. Katherine would always choose herself. Until then, I would let him believe what he wanted. I would play along… for now.

"Well, let the games begin. I'm excited too, yet again, be courted by you, Mr. Salvatore," I said with a curtsy.

His answering smile was blinding. A knock on the door interrupted us, bringing a frown to my face.

"Come in little brother," Damon sighed with a roll of his eyes.

I elbowed him in the ribs, laughing at his exaggerated gasp. Stefan walked in, stepping beside me. He looked at Damon and quickly noticed the little distance he put between us. I watched a thought pass across his face before being hidden as he schooled his features. He was angry about something, and I could guess exactly what that was.

He stepped in front of me and took my hand. I leaned my head back in surprise and looked into his eyes. The mischievous and vicious look that was passing through his forest green orbs reminded me too much of Nik at that moment, and that wasn't a good look on Stefan.

"I think you should stay here tonight, Elandra. We don't want something happening while my blood is in your system," Stefan said smirking at Damon.

I pulled my hand from his and growled at his thinly veiled attempt to piss Damon off. I knew it was because Damon had told Elena about Katherine, but still, it was a dick move. I had thought better of Stefan. I stepped closer to him and shook my head in disgust. His smirk melted a bit.

Damon's face fell as he started to come up with his own idea of what led to my feeding from Stefan. He looked at me and then Stefan and his eyes blazed with cold fury.

"You fed Elandra your blood!?" he shouted, pushing Stefan against the wall at Vamp speed.

I quickly followed their movements, a perk of being what I was. Damon held Stefan against the wall by his shirt, his face inked in black veins, his white teeth pointed and bared at Stefan's neck.

Stefan avoided looking at me and smirked, laughing.

"Yeah, she called for me in the shadows beside the school. Again, you weren't there, were you, Damon? But I was, as always," Stefan spat.

I could feel my hands shaking in anger. Damon's face was broken. I could imagine what he was picturing, and it was far from what actually happened. My power surged through me, and I couldn't hold it back anymore. I threw my hands forward and pushed a force field between them. Once they were separated, I pushed them to the floor, holding them, making sure neither could move. They both looked up at me in shocked horror. Damon's oceanic blue eyes were worried, and he strained as he tried to reach out to me.

"How dare you, Stefan! I asked for your help today. I trusted you, and this is how you repay me?!" I shouted, my voice echoed in the large room.

Stefan closed his eyes, too ashamed to meet my gaze. I used a little extra force to push him further into the floor, enjoying the cracking of his bones as they began to protest, and looked away towards his brother.

"Damon, you should know me better than that. Even if I have changed, I would never do anything with your brother. I am not Katherine! I was sick and used his blood to heal myself." I forcefully spat. "Now, I'm leaving. I know you both are probably a little freaked right now, but I want nothing to do with either of you at the moment,"

I spun on my heels and hightailed it out of the bedroom. I sped down the stairs towards the front door and found Elena waiting for me in the car. Her doe eyes wide, she could sense my anger, but knew better than to ask me what happened. I slipped into the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel tightly as I started the car, speeding out of the driveway, tires squealing. I finally released the brothers when I could no longer see the large stone house in my rearview.

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

Text

AU where in the first season of each of their respective shows, Scott McCall and Tyler Lockwood run into each other after they both skip town and go off on their own because literally every other werewolf they know is an asshole. And like, granted, Tyler’s an asshole too at that point, but in a ‘he’ll grow out of it’ kinda way, and I mean...enter Scott McCall. Hashtag Growth happens immediately for both. Tyler’s like “No dude, you gotta be more selfish. Look out for number one, you know?”

Scott squints. “I’m number one?” He says slowly, in classic ‘I’m the hot girl?’ tone and cadence, as though the idea has never occurred to him before.

“You’re totally number one, champ,” Tyler says affirmatively, because like...he has eyes, and also has known Scott for longer than five minutes now and thus its pretty obvious that this is in fact true. Also, Tyler is at this point still the kind of asshole who says things like “champ”, and like....not even in an ironic way.

Then the next day Tyler’s an asshole to someone who doesn’t deserve it and Scott looks at him sadly.

“I don’t know how to tell you this dude, but like, you gotta care about other people,” he says. Tyler frowns. Contemplates this.

“Okay,” he says and shrugs, and its pretty much that simple because I mean, he legit literally just needed someone to tell him that. Have you met his parents? They’re AWFUL. I mean they were. Haha, they died. I mean oh no. Much sadness.

They form their own pack and its awesome and eventually that gay werewolf dude from The Originals, Aiden, joins up with them - but only because he brings his vampire boyfriend Josh along with him. I don’t really care about Aiden, but Josh was cool, ergo, I guess Aiden can stay. What is it with white werewolf dudes named Aiden anyway? There are other names, guys. Branch out. Live a little.

They then go to Canada for awhile and run into the werewolves from Bitten.

“Yeah, this seems like a whole mess,” Tyler says, gesturing vaguely in a way meant to encompass every fucked up thing that is wrong with the werewolves in the world of Bitten.

“I just remembered I left the stove on. Sorry, we gotta go,” Scott says, backing away slowly. Their pack turns and leaves *vague hand gestures* All That behind.

They then go to New York and meet the Shadowhunters and Downworlders. Shenanigans ensue, and in the process, they wind up in like, Valentine’s dungeons where they stumble across and rescue Luke Garroway.

“Wait, aren’t you that werewolf cop?” Josh asks, confused. Luke frowns.

“What? Why the hell would I be a cop? Oh, you must mean that doppelganger Valentine hired to be me to keep any of my old Shadowhunters allies or Clary’s mom to look for me. Wait, he’s a cop? Man, FUCK that guy.”

“Fuck doppelgangers, dude,” Tyler agrees, nodding sagely. Scott cocks an eyebrow at him in query.

“They just really suck,” Tyler says, with feeling. Scott nods. Well okay then. Fuck doppelgangers.

Luke joins their pack and the novelty of knowing an adult werewolf who doesn’t completely suck isn’t wearing off any time soon. Who knew that was a thing? They begin to have hope that being a werewolf isn’t synonymous with turning into a douchebag on your twenty-first birthday. Especially Tyler. He like literally JUST un-douchefied himself.

They then go wherever the fuck that show The Gates was set. There’s a whole pack there, and they don’t seem completely awful, but then there’s this one werewolf kid named Brett. Scott goes still.

“Do you have a twin brother?” He asks Brett. Brett scowls.

“What the fuck kind of a question is that? No.”

“Oh, sorry,” Scott says. “It’s just you look a lot like this guy I knew back home, Jackson.”

“Well I’m not him and I don’t have a twin brother,” Brett says with unnecessary aggression that is doing nothing to assuage comparisons to Jackson. Like, chill. It was just a question.

“Oh no! He must be a doppelganger! Sorry, we have to go, we left the water running in the sink,” Tyler yells, standing up and sweeping Scott off his feet and over one shoulder while hollering over the other as he runs off into the night. The rest of their pack look at each other in confusion, shrug, and run after them. Because like, that probably means something, they figure. The Gates pack stares after them with varying expressions of wtf.

“Fucking weirdos,” Brett scoffs then. He goes back to being just The Worst Ever.

Then they wind up in Seattle, where they meet the roommates from Being Human. The American version obviously, I mean, not to be US centric but they’re not going to fucking London just to run into more werewolves, An American Werewolf in London honestly just wasn’t good enough to justify the endless jokes about American werewolves going to London, like, get over it already, let it go.

Werewolf Josh is decent enough. They consider inviting him to join their pack. Then his vampire roommate Aidan gets home, and he’s like, a whole serial killer and a half. So.

“Oh no, I left an unwrapped burrito from 7-11 in the microwave, its gonna go bad!” Vampire Josh shouts in horror, throwing Scott over one shoulder, Tyler over the other, sweeping his boyfriend up in his arms bridal style and then backing into Luke until the older man sighs, hates everything, makes plans to buy a gas-economical SUV because being a werewolf suburban soccer mom is still less undignified than being given piggy back rides by their token vampire when he runs out of arms and shoulders. Then Josh sprints all the way outside the Seattle city limits before stopping and dropping his passengers off as the rest of their pack gathers around them.

“What was wrong with this one?” Asks Tommy Dawkins, the werewolf from Big Wolf on Campus. He and Scott make up the pack’s “Wholesome Jocks In Recovery Post Asshole BFF-endectomy” club. Luke told all the teens that home-schooling was fine, but they still needed extracurriculars. This was not what he had in mind, but well. Baby steps.

“Terrible judge of character,” Scott explains. “Has philosophical debates with his vampire roommate about said vampire roommate’s triple digit body count.”

“Ahh.”

“Am I the only vampire who isn’t just ‘oh look at me, I can go homicidal at the drop of a hat and kill scores of people and then click my heels together and go whoops, all better now, man, THAT was a bad decade for me, huh?’ Am I? AM I?” Josh wails, hiccuping between sobs. Like all vampires, he is very pretty 90% of the time, but he’s a super ugly crier. It’s wonderfully humanizing. Gross, and like, dude gets snot everywhere, but there is an Official Pack Rule. Nobody tell Josh about the ugly crying. Plus, its just a cheap shot, you know? Its not his fault 99% of other vampires use their Pretty for evil.

“Josh,” Tyler says solemnly, putting his arms on both the vampire’s shoulders and looking him gravely in the eye. “I hate to have to tell you this, but I think that like. Yeah. You might just be...The One.”

“Wait no, I heard about this one vampire who’s supposed to not be awful? Down in LA I think,” says Mark, from Lost Girl. He’s not actually a werewolf, he’s a shapeshifter who turns into a black panther. They ran into his dad first, a werewolf named Dyson, but they all sensed he was Horrible within the first five seconds. Except before Luke could say he forgot to feed his goldfish, they gotta go, they bumped into Dyson’s non-awful bisexual panther teenage son and well like. They had to save him from the Horrible then. Like, technically they kidnapped him? Whatever, all their role models were terrible people.

Josh looks up, hopeful. He rubs at his face with his forearm but doesn’t really clean up the snot so much as get it everywhere. Several werewolves wince and look away politely. Mark is scrolling through something on his phone, seemingly oblivious.

“Did you seriously just leave that on a cliffhanger?” Luke scolds. Mark looks up belatedly.

“What? Oh, no. Its just supposedly he only has a soul sometimes, and when he has a soul he’s supposed to be like, a pretty decent guy, but when he doesn’t have a soul, he’s like....a maniacal ax murderer on murder-steroids. Its this whole thing apparently. I follow this demon on twitter who owns a bar down there. He posts weekly updates on whether or not the guy has his soul this week....calls it Soulwatch. I guess the last couple times the dude didn’t have his soul he almost ended the world or something? So anyway, lotta people like updates on that, since I guess he and that vampire are good buds or whatever.”

“He doesn’t have a soul sometimes?” Tyler scowls skeptically. “That sounds fake.”

“Do you have a soul?” A nameless werewolf extra from True Blood asks Josh.

Josh hiccups and gropes around at his chest, frowning.

“I think so? Nobody ever told me I might not, I don’t know. Like I mean, I feel like I have a soul, I’m pretty sure?”

“He clutches his stomach and goes ‘ow my heart’ when that Sarah McLachlan commercial with the sad puppies comes on TV,” his boyfriend says helpfully.

“That’s not where the heart is....” someone starts to say, but they’re quickly shushed. Scott, Tommy and Luke are all clutching their stomachs and nodding in understanding. Tyler rubs his temples.

“Josh, you have a soul. You literally burst into song every time you see a baby smile, and last month you guilt-tripped us all into volunteering with you at that pediatric hospital which means we heard nothing but you singing showtunes and Christmas carols for an entire week straight. In July. Mark, does your demon twitter follower say this vampire has his soul this week or not? Are we going to LA next? And someone please hit me for having to utter that sentence in the first place, it’ll make me feel better, please just do it.”

Sophia Donner, the only decent werewolf from the almost entirely werewolf-populated town of Wolf Lake, helpfully kicks him in the shin.

“What?” Mark looks up again, baffled. “Dude, he doesn’t follow ME on twitter, are you kidding? He has like, six hundred thousand twitter followers.”

“Really? Why so many?” Tommy asks.

“He has this thing where he can like, see your future or your aura or some shit like that when you sing. So karaoke night at his bar is always packed with lots of A-List celebs obsessed with the occult. Its like, impossible to get into cuz of that unless you know someone, but it means everyone who’s anyone in Hollywood follows him on twitter and is always trying to hit him up and get on the list, and so like, of course all their followers follow him too even if they don’t know why everyone follows him, they just figure obviously he must be someone important?”

“Ahh.”

“People,” Tyler barks. “Focus.”

He looks around for Scott, wondering why the hell he’s the only one trying to get a handle on this. He eventually finds Scott at the edge of their little gathering. Fucker’s holding up his cell phone and recording everything. He shoots Tyler a thumbs up and mouths “You’re doing amazing, sweetie” at him. Tyler would be pissed, but like, he was the one who made it his mission to get Scott to occasionally be more of a selfish asshole specifically so....nah. Fuck it. He was gonna be pissed anyway.

“Ummm,” Mark hedges some more, still scrolling through his phone. He frowns then, and shoots Josh an apologetic glance. “Sorry. Looks like he’s soulless again this week.”

Scott decides to intervene then, looking suddenly concerned. “Uh...does that mean he might maybe almost destroy the world again? Should we go to LA anyway and like...I dunno. Try and help?”

“Help who?” Tyler demands, throwing up his arms in exasperation at the whole day. This is what he gets for getting out of bed, like. Ever. Nothing good comes from getting out of bed. When will he learn?

“I don’t know. Don’t get testy with me,” Scott bites out testily. “The people. Who try and...stop him from destroying the world? Obviously world’s not destroyed so somebody must have stopped him the last couple times which means someone’s probably trying to stop him this time too.”

“Or he could just be really bad at it,” Tommy suggests.

“Nope, we’re good,” Mark interrupts, still on his phone. “It says they’ve got him magically locked up in some hotel so he can’t go anywhere while they wait for their witch friend to bring his soul back and put it in him. I guess after the last time they put like, a low-jack spell on it so if it went missing again it’d just go straight to her, since she’s the only one good at putting it back anyway.”

“Well then,” Tyler says after a moment or two to digest the concept of a low-jacked soul. “That was a super efficient tangent. Are we all good here now at least? Can we move on and like....go somewhere not within range of a serial killer vampire who’s probably miffed at us for being rude and committing some hospitality faux pas?”

Josh sniffs and rubs at his face again, this time with more success. “Yeah, sorry. I’m all good now.”

“Well I’m not,” Aiden yells out then, apparently taking the all-clear on his boyfriend’s issue as a go ahead to vent his own drama. “Am I the only Aiden who isn’t just a complete asshole??”

“I mean, you’re kinda an asshole sometimes too,” Sophia says, idly chewing a nail.

“Not helpful, Soph,” Scott scolds gently. She shrugs.

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“Let’s start a pack, you said,” Tyler growls, glaring daggers at his co-alpha. Scott smirks back without remorse. “It’ll be good for us, you said. There’s probably lots of other teen wolves in the same boat as us, you said. Shouldn’t we help them, you said.”

“I did say all that,” Scott agrees. He saunters off, you know, like an asshole.

Two weeks later they’re not far from LA. The vampire has his soul this week and everyone wants to go celeb-watching at the demon dude’s karaoke night. Luke knows a guy who can get them in, apparently. They stop to help a hitchhiking teenage werewolf in trouble because like, Scott has a sixth sense for that shit.

“So what’s your name?” Tyler asks the kid.

“Derek Hale,” he says, and Tyler squints. Why does that name sound familiar. Next to him, Scott hisses like an angry cat. Oh. Right. That.

“You’re not Derek Hale,” Scott accuses, and the kid bristles right back at him. Tyler watches, bemused. Was this a Beacon Hills thing? Or did all of them look like that when having like....what was this, a territorial pissing match? Angsty backstory showdown? What was even happening here, exactly?

“I think I would know, dickface.”

“Look, I’ve met Derek Hale, and he’s like, twenty five, and an asshole,” Scott says. “You can’t be Derek Hale, because you’re like, fifteen, and adorable.”

“Fuck you, I’m seventeen, and fuck you more, I’m not adorable, I will fucking rip your throat out with my teeth, dickface.”

“See? I’m supposed to be quaking in my shoes right now but all I wanna do is pat you on the head and hug you and feed you, because that was adorable,” Scott says, pointing at him. “Ergo, you can’t be Derek Hale, because all I ever wanted to do to that dude was kick him in the nuts for being an asshole who’s all like breaking into my house to tell me we’re brothers now or whatever the fuck that was all about, and then breaking my arm and trashing my phone two seconds later.”

The kid goes quiet. Squints at him. “Wait. Is your name Scott McCall?”

Scott frowns deeper and folds his arms across his chest, shifting awkwardly. He has trouble maintaining his like, Righteous Ire even when he’s definitely in the right, and adorable kid being adorable and no longer even aggressive was making his temper go bye-bye. Ugh, rude. Scotty Rage was hot, and all too rare. Tyler officially hated this kid. Why does he never get to have nice things?

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

The kid fidgets, sullen. “Heard about you. I told you, I am Derek Hale. I just got like, magically de-aged by my pedo ex-girlfriend who’s now even more pedo and creepier and like...whatever, I don’t even know what the fuck that was all about but like yeah. Apparently older me was a huge douchebag and your name came up as proof of his douchebaggery and I booked it awhile ago because like, nobody could figure out how to turn me back and I figured if I gotta be seventeen again at least I’m gonna be seventeen somewhere where people don’t all think I’m a douchebag because of what older not!me Derek the Dickhead did. You know?”

“Not even a little bit,” Tyler says.

“Kinda,” Scott says. He gnaws his lip. “That sucks. Well. You hungry? We were about to go get some dinner. Wanna come with?”

Derek the Littler Dick stares at him before shooting Tyler an incredulous glance. “Is he for real?”

“Unfortunately,” Tyler deadpans. Scott frowns defensively.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dude, you just hated me like ten whole seconds ago.”

“I didn’t know who you were ten seconds ago,” Scott shrugs, as though that explains everything. Problem is, in his head it probably did. Freak, Tyler thinks affectionately.

“Yeah but now you do know who I am and now you know I’m someone you hate? So....?”

“No, you used to be someone I hate,” Scott explains slowly, as if to a small child. “You said it yourself, you’re not really him. Besides, I decided I’m over it anyway.”

“You decided you’re....over it. Anyway.” LDD repeats, breaking it down slowly. As if to a small child. Oh, this is going to be amazing, isn’t it. The other half of Tyler’s future home entertainment gifts him with another incredulous look, like, are you sure this guy is for real? Tyler nods in confirmation.

“He’s just...like that. It’s so weird.”

“Fine,” Derek huffs at last, over aggressively because why stray from a theme, yeah? “But this better not be some fucked up elaborate revenge plan for older me being a dick or like...”

“You’ll rip my throat out with your teeth,” Scott says dryly. The kid sulks.

“Well of course it sounds lame when you say it like that.”

“You still have baby fat,” Scott tells him. Derek shifts into an enraged were-porcupine.

“I so the fuck do not!”

“You have like, chubby little baby werewolf chipmunk cheeks.”

“Asshole!”

“I know you are but what am I?”

“That’s so stupid! You’re so stupid! What are you, twelve?”

“No, that’s you. Look in a mirror, short stuff.”

“Oh god,” Tyler despairs, staring after the two of them walking off towards the rest of the pack. “They’re brothers now.”

#kalen writes crack fic sometimes #look i dont know what this is #i just know it was in my brain #so now its here

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fangirllifu · 3 years

Text

Sweet Like Pudding Ch. 23

Italics - thoughts

It's a month before the Representative Playoffs, and Kuroo had an idea he pitched to Bokuto and Akaashi. Kenma's Birthday is coming up, and as the 'good-if-not-the-bestest-best-friend-he-is', Kuroo obviously had to organize a surprise birthday party for him. Despite the other's blatant refusal to participate in such events.

Since Kenma's birthday falls on a school day, Kuroo had to plan it accordingly. His original plan was to have a small team celebration, but opted against it as Kenma might react badly, especially with the ever-unpredictable-current-cause-of-Kenma's-headache, Haiba Lev. As such, he just decided on a private celebration at Kenma's house (permission from his parents are not needed, he's basically family), with a special guest of honor, of course. All he had to do now was plan how he was going to get said guest of honor to come. After all, they were the most important factor needed. And that's where those two come in. Bokuto and Akaashi said they had it covered so….. guess he doesn't have to think about that now then.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

It's officially D-day, and so far everything's been going according to plan. He'd managed to prevent his teammates—who remembered Kenma's birthday—to not throw him a party. It came as a surprise though, even to him, that they would gift Kenma a whole pan of Apple Pie. And for the first time, the pudding-head wasn't annoyed with the team as they greeted him with a 'Happy Birthday'. He's obviously too distracted with the Apple Pie to care about anything else.

Kenma's good mood was surprisingly constant throughout the day. Well… he wasn't exactly in a good mood, per say. He was just not in an irritable mood as he usually is this time of the year, which counts as being in a good mood in Kuroo's book.

They were currently chilling in the living room of the Kozume household, playing one of Kenma's video games, while his mom was in the kitchen preparing. After losing so horribly for the fourth consecutive time, Kuroo sinks into the couch with a heavy sigh. As he straightened back up, he chanced a glance at the clock.

"They should be arriving any minute now—" Kuroo thought and sure enough the house bell sounds off.

*Ding Dong~*

"Go on Kenma. Open the door. I bet that's Bokuto and Akaashi with your present." Kuroo smiles mischievously as he pauses the game, and eagerly shoos Kenma to the door.

As Kenma gets closer to the door, he hears an embarrassed and highly flustered voice that he recognized to be Kanna's, exclaim.

"What the hell you guys! I—"

Kenma opens the door to be greeted by the image of Kanna being securely held by Koutarou on his shoulder, and Akaashi behind them.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Koutarou cheerfully exclaims as he sets Kanna down in front of them.

"Happy Birthday Kozume." Akaashi greets with a nod.

Kenma merely spared them both a glance, as he was too distracted by the girl in front of him. There was Kanna standing in front of him, wrapped in a big red bow, wearing a black over-sized hoodie with what he could only guess, as a bunch of gaming icons decorating the sleeves. There was something in front, but he couldn't really make out what it was, with the bow in the way. (art)

"Um…" Kanna mumbles looking everywhere but Kenma.

"Happy Birthday?" She sheepishly smiles at him and opens her palms in a 'ta-dah' motion, though not really doing much as her arms were bounded to her sides.

Kenma chuckled at the endearing image, the sound causing a bright blush to bloom on Kanna's face. Kenma recollected himself, before extending his arm to gently pull her inside the house and out of the cold night air.

"My gift?" He teases good-naturedly, highly amused.

"Um… the hoodie was my mine. I wasn't aware I was going to be the one to wear it, and end up being the gift though…." She sheepishly answers, still avoiding his line of sight.

She twitched lightly, when Kenma suddenly came even closer to her and pulled the bow off. Now that it was off, he could finally get a closer look at the hoodie. In front were the words 'KODZUKEN' in pixel font, in the shade of Kenma's iconic pudding hair, and he was right about the gaming icons on the sleeves. All in all, it was a very well thought out design, Kenma couldn't help but note. And it looked absolutely adorable on Kanna's small stature.

"I like the hoodie. Thank you." He comments as he puts the ribbon aside.

"But I think you should keep it." His words caused Kanna to look up at him and meet his gaze. Only to regret it soon after, as he had that 'look' on his face that did weird things to stomach and made her chest hurt.

"It looks better on you."

She's positive she just turned to jelly. She's wondering how she's still standing, when she can barely feel her legs with the sudden onslaught of emotions.

"Wha—What is wrong with me?! I don't understand what's happening?!"

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

Akaashi and Koutarou who had long since left the two and sneaked their way inside, were spying on them—along with Kuroo—on the couch.

"Ngghh~ Why does he have to speak so softly?! I can't hear what he's saying!" Bokuto grumbles gripping down hard on the couch.

"That's the exact intended purpose Bokuto-san. So you don't hear." Akaashi states pointedly ignoring his incessant twitching.

"But—" Bokuto was going to argue, but stopped with a look from Akaashi.

"Oh, come on Akaashiii~ Don't tell me you aren't curious about what Kenma's sayin—look—look, see~ Kanna-chan's face just exploded. I want to know why~" Kuroo whines along with Bokuto.

"The both of you are hopeless." Akaashi resignedly sighs as he stands up from his seat and proceeds to walk towards the kitchen, calling out to the older male. "Come on Bokuto-san, we haven't even greeted Mrs. Kozume yet."

Bokuto springs up and follows quickly after Akaashi, they come into the kitchen to see Kenma's Mom placing a plate filled with food on the table.

"Hello Aunty!" Bokuto cheerfully salutes.

"Hello Mrs. Kozume." Akaashi greets with a respectful bow.

"Hello to you too Koutarou-kun, Keiji-kun!" Kenma's mom addresses, happily welcoming the two boys.

"Mrs. Kozume, this is for you." Akaashi steps forward and hands her a small rectangular box.

"Hm?" She hums questioningly as she accepts.

"I'm sure you'd be quite pleased with it." Akaashi lightly smiles, encouraging.

She opens the box and sees what appears to be a scrapbook. She flips the cover and giggles. "Oh, dear! Thank you so much! I'll be sure to treasure them."

The two bowed and walked back towards Kuroo on the coach just as Kanna and Kenma turned and made their way to the kitchen, probably to say their hellos as well.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

"But as I said, I really like the hoodie. Did you design it?" Kenma asks, he really did like the hoodie.

"Yeah… I even had to ask Kuroo if you had a favorite food so I could include it in the design." Kanna bashfully nods.

"Oh? Where is it?" Kenma asks intrigued, as he didn't see it anywhere.

Kanna turns around to show him the back, where a big slice of Apple Pie was plastered right there in the middle—pixilated—still keeping to the game theme of the hoodie. And here Kenma thought it couldn't get any better. It just did.

Kenma shakes his head in fondness and gently ushers her along. "Come, I'll introduce you to my mom."

They walk, passing by the trio on the couch, two of which had just started playing games on the TV with the other just watching over the impending chaos. They pointedly ignored the shouting and shoving, and continued on their way.

"Mom." Kenma calls, as they come into the kitchen.

"Hm?" Kenma's mom turns, and smiles widely at the sight before her. "Hello dear! I believe this is the first time we've met."

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Kozume. My name's Bokuto Kanna, Kou's cousin." Kanna bows, returning the smile.

"So this is her…"

Kenma's Mom beams even brighter as she exclaims. "Oh! Tetsurou-kun's told me all about you! You're even cuter in person!"

Her words caused Kanna to jerk in surprise and shuffle closer to Kenma, keeping her head down to try and hide her tinted face.

"Mom. You're overwhelming her." Kenma admonishes, with a scolding stare.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. I didn't mean to." Kenma's Mom apologized, smiling softly in seeing how her son was quick to defend the girl.

"It's alright, Mrs. Kozume." Kanna reassures as she lifts her head up to meet her gaze.

With a delighted smile back on her face, Kenma's Mom states. "Dear none of that, call me Mom instead!"

Before anything else can happen, Kenma quickly took hold of Kanna and steered her back out of the kitchen.

"Okay, that's enough. We'll be by the couch if you need us." He says with hurried steps.

Kenma's Mom giggles, at the sight of her son's frantic actions. She could get used to this new side of Kenma that Kanna has managed to bring out.

"Welcome to the family Kanna-chan~!" She hollers mischievously, after them.

"Mom!" He calls out, then proceeds to grumble about 'embarrassing moms' as he walks alongside Kanna.

"Your mom's very… um…" Kanna mumbles, not sure what to make out off of the interaction she had just had.

"Don't mind her too much." Kenma responds as he continues on his way towards the others on the couch.

Only for them to arrive to the scene of Koutarou wailing on the floor, Kuroo standing triumphantly smug above him, and Akaashi on the side looking like a resigned mom so done with her two children.

Koutarou notices the two and proceeds to crawl towards them, he then extends his hand holding the controller as he dramatically pleads "Avenge meee~~, Kanna-chaaaaannn~~~"

Kanna doesn't know whether to be exasperated by the theatrics, or laugh at the utter stupidity and level of brain cells absent in the room.

"Okay… I guess." She appeases, to stop and rid them of his incessant 'I'm dying' groaning.

"Oh~ So the little one has come to avenge its fallen, now has she." Kuroo challenges with his irritatingly signature smirk.

Kanna doesn't rise to challenge and merely shrugs at him as she makes her way towards the open space on the coach, and sits. The rest of the guys follow soon after, and Kuroo starts the game.

Everyone was zeroed in on the intense match between the two. For once, Koutarou was silent.

They were finally nearing the end of the game. Both of them had been fighting a close match throughout it, so whoever manages to take this, wins the whole thing. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Kanna executes a high level move that surprises Kuroo and almost made him lose, but he perseveres. Kuroo swivels his head to look at Kanna in shock, only to realize what just happened.

"Kenma! Tha—Stop telling her the cheats! That's cheating!" Kuroo complains, startling Akaashi and Koutarou—who laughs loudly at Kuroo's misery at being played.

"You're supposed to be my best friend! Kenma!" Kuroo continues to grumble, whilst trying to evade and counter Kanna.

Meanwhile, Kenma continues to lead and instruct Kanna on where to go, where to aim and what buttons to push. Kanna gladly listens and eagerly does as she's told.

"Stop ignoring me, dammit!" And…. he loses. Not surprisingly so.

"That was a low blow, man." Kuroo sighs dejectedly as he deflates on the couch.

"You were taking too long." Kenma nonchalantly stands up and takes the controller from him, and returns to his seat beside Kanna.

Kenma—the gaming master/expert that he was—then proceeded to obliterate them multiple times in the half hour they were waiting for Kenma's Mom to call them to eat. They were so wrecked that by the time they were called, they were quite literally relieved and thankful to be out of Kenma's mercy.

They chatted some as they ate. Though they didn't say it out loud, Kuroo and Akaashi were well aware that Kenma had gone a tad easier on Kanna, than the rest of them. And the both of them were constantly observing how the two were interacting with each other. It's only been a few months, but the two don't seem to realize the amount of chemistry that oozes from them whenever they're together. They're pretty sure that Kenma's Mom—and Kanna's for that matter—are more knowledgeable in what's up, than the two of them.

Its equal parts amusing and annoyingly cute. It's amusing because their little interactions are just so wholesome, and annoying because they want them to be together already. Heck, every single one of them already consider them official, they only need the two to finally confirm it. And they know, when that day comes, a huge party/celebration is going to be thrown— or at least attempted.

After dinner, they thanked Kenma's Mom for the lovely meal, and then got shooed back into the living room. Where our favorite trio sat on the couch behind the two on the carpet, and watched as Kenma tried to teach Kanna how to play the game he just loaded. Kuroo comments 'it's his favorite game to play' and 'how unbelievably patient he's being'. Which is unprecedented in Kuroo's book of 'Kenma's personalities when he plays'.

Eventually, they had to leave as it was getting late. Kanna and Kenma wrapped up their game, and everyone said their thank you's once again to Kenma's Mom for having them. Kuroo was outside chatting away with Koutarou and Akaashi, as they waited for Kanna. She said she had to go to the bathroom before they go. She wasn't sure how busy the trains would be, so she'd rather be prepared than regretting the entire time.

Kanna walked towards Kenma at the door, and as she moves to open it, he stops her with a touch of his hand on her arm. She turns to him in question at the gesture.

"I'll see you this weekend?" Kenma asks in a soft, unsure voice.

Kanna blinks for a second before responding. "Oh! Yeah! Of course! Yes! Yep!"

Kenma nods and releases her arm. But Kanna doesn't make a move to open the door, instead she turns fully to him and asks.

"But are you sure I should keep this? I did order this just for you." Gesturing to the hoodie by lifting her arms.

"Yes, I'm sure." He assures with a soft smile, then looks away to hide his blush from seeing a pouting Kanna.

"Okay….." Kanna concedes, though still doubtful. They conclude the conversation there, as they both walk out the door, joining the others.

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

It's finally the awaited weekend, and Kanna didn't know why she was feeling so weirdly the entire time leading up to it.

(But let's be honest, we all know why, right? Of course, we do.)

Kanna was walking by herself, on her way to Kenma's house. He'd offered to meet her at the station so she doesn't have to walk alone, but she kindly declined. She didn't want to trouble him by having him walk back and forth just for her. As she was walking up to the door of the house, for some reason, her palms were getting sweaty, and she had this inexplicable urge to turn and just hightail it as far as she possibly could. But she stood her ground and continued forward, even managing to ring the doorbell without any further interruptions.

"What's wrong with me, really? Am I sick or something?"

Kanna was deep in her thoughts, when the door opened, and she was greeted gleefully by Kenma's Mom.

"Hello, dear! Come in, come in!" She ushers Kanna inside and as they walk further inside, she calls out. "Kenma! Kanna-chan's here!"

Sound of footsteps could be heard thundering down the stairs, and Kenma appears from the corner leading up to it.

"I'll leave you two to it then. I'll be down here if you need me. Have fun!" She waves them off as she makes her way to the couch and continues watching her show.

Kenma walks towards Kanna and guides her up to his room. As she walks in, she looks around and sees; a modest sized bed, across from that is a flat screen TV equipped with multiple game consoles, next to that is a shelf of what she guessed were the CDs for the games. On the other side was a bookshelf with a couple of mangas, next to that was a desk with a few cat trinkets and school books. She realized how dark the room was when he closed the door and the room was only illuminated by the TV, guessing it was because of the black-out curtains.

Kenma sat at the edge of his bed and patted beside him, gesturing for Kanna to sit. She complied and appreciated how soft the bed was as Kenma handed her the other controller.

"So what are we gonna play?" Kanna asked looking at him eagerly.

"We can play some PvP games or some one-player ones. I could also teach you how to play my favorites if you like." Kenma suggested, standing up and making his way to the collection of games at the side.

"That's great and all, but are you sure? I know I've mentioned this multiple times, but despite doing well in academics, I really can't understand how most of these work." She voices looking unsure, as she fidgeted with the controls.

"You'll be fine. Why don't we start with the basics, I'll pick a few and then you can decide which ones you like." Kenma assured, doing just that and holding up a few he'd selected in his hands.

"Okay!" She nods.

And so they proceeded to play a few simple games that didn't require Kenma to explain much, and it came as no surprise that her favorite ones were a couple of idle games. Afterwards Kenma showed her his collection of favorite games—the ones he keeps coming back to. He played a few rounds with Kanna watching amazed at how he played, before he handed the controller to her and guided her through it.

Kenma was lying behind Kanna as he watched her attempt to copy what he previously did in his demonstration and ceremoniously fail, causing him to chuckle at her frustrated groans. He continued watching her as she tried again multiple times, simply reveling in the range of emotions her face expressed. When she suddenly whopped and giddily turned to him with shining eyes and a bright smile, and Kenma was hit with a sudden realization.

He stared at her wide-eyed as she turned back to continue playing, unaware of what Kenma was currently going through. After some time, he sat up from his position and wordlessly inched closer to Kanna, and gently—albeit a little unsure— wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in.

The reaction was immediate. Kanna froze, completely forgetting about the game as she asked in a soft and slightly worried voice. "Kenma?"

Kenma respond by bending his head and placing his forehead on her shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment before Kenma's voice broke through.

"Would you….."

"Hn?" She encouraged when he stopped, feeling the apprehension in his voice.

"Would you say yes…." He started again, then paused and let out a breath. "…if I asked for me to be yours, and you to be mine?"

Kanna flushed terribly as his words registered. She turned her head and stared wide-eyed at Kenma's head, who was quite adamant in burying his head into her shoulder.

"Ke—Kenma I—" She spluttered not knowing how to respond.

"It's alright. You don't have to say anything." He assures, yet sounding small and hesitant. But before Kanna can say anything, he continues.

"I just—um—don't…know….." He stutters, tightening his hold on her. "…I've never actually been in this situation before so—um—But I feel comfortable around you, much more than I do with Kuroo, and I don't feel like I have to constantly worry and I can just be… And it's alright if you don't agree, I just—….want to be allowed to stay by your side….Please…."

He finishes, screwing his eyes shut and further curls in on Kanna in apprehension as silence envelops the two, letting his words hang in the air.

Kanna turns her body around, in his embrace, to face him. "Oh, Kenma…."

With his head still down, Kanna cups his face as she contemplates. "I'm such an idiot. Of course that was the reason! This must be why Keiji keeps making fun of me. Because I'm dumb when it comes to my own feelings."

She steels her resolve, despite the uncertainty, and takes a deep breath as she says. "I'm not sure how this works too, but….. I'm sure we'll be able to figure it out together, right?"

He lifts his head up and stares at her wide-eyed. "Is she…..?"

She smiles at him as their eyes lock. "Does this mean you're going to let me cuddle you then?"

Kenma's face explodes at the unexpected question. He surges to bury his head once again in her shoulder from the embarrassment, as well as preventing her from seeing his reddened face.

"Kenma?" She asks in confusion, trying to move away but is locked in place by a surprisingly strong grip.

"Huh? Did I say something wrong?"

—~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~— —~~~—

Kenma loves his hoodies. I mean who wouldn't right. They're so soft, warm and just downright the epitome of comfort. But for some reason, recently when he's browsing through shops for new ones, he keeps on wondering if they would look cute on Kanna. All because of that damned birthday party.

"I'm losing my mind." Kenma shakes his head as he wills his blush to be gone from his face.

Notes:

Here is the b-day special for Kenma I have promised. Also as an early Valentine's present to you all, I have drawn an illustration of Kanna. If you missed it, here (art). I'm new to everything, but I hope you receive it well, I had a lot of fun making it.

There were multiple instances, while writing and editing this, that I either cringed so hard or felt my heart clench too much from the amount of fluff. I'm not sure if it was alright or too much, so I shall await your generous comments regarding the matter. I also have little to no knowledge of console games so please don't come at me.

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Chapter List

#Sweet Like Pudding #kozume kenma x oc #Kozume Kenma #Bokuto Koutarou #akaashi keiji #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #slow burn #romance #family #friendship

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ariannadi · 6 years

Text

As Luck Would Have It (5/5)

The epilogue!! Woo x3 Thanks for being patient with me while I finished this up, this last chapter is just a little send-off with some fluff lol

Previous chapter is here, Ao3 link at the bottom of this post!

Six years later...

...

"Mama, can I do it now? Can I?" a soft yet eager voice cut through the fog of Leo's sleep, and the man couldn't help the little smile that rose on his cheeks. He was quite aware of what day it happened to be, and, judging by the sound of his son's voice, Forrest was just as informed and in the process of acknowledging it through his own means.

"Yes, go ahead, Forrest," came Kamui’s quiet response. "Just don't cause too much of a ruckus."

Leo could practically see the enthusiastic nod from the small boy and anticipated his next move, which came but a few seconds later. Forrest launched himself onto the bed with a ferocious roar, landing on top of Leo and squealing when his father immediately captured him in his arms and retaliated with a tickle attack.

"Papa! No! Stop!" the boy wheezed through his hysterics, trying to escape Leo's grip by flailing all of his limbs at once. Leo chuckled as he finally released him, not before running a hand through the curls of silver on his head.

The commotion was enough to startle the fourth and youngest soul present - Kana's little wails sounding from the bassinet near Kamui's side of the bed. Without delay, the woman hopped to attention and gathered the baby into her arms, hushing him in an instant as she rocked him to and fro.

"Oh, I'm sorry my little Kana-bean. Did we wake you prematurely?" she soothed the infant, grinning at his responding coo.

"Sorry, baby brother," came Forrest, looking sheepish. "I just wanted to surprise Papa for his birthday. Oh!" Forrest, realizing his error, quickly turned his attention back to Leo and blurted, "Happy birthday, Papa!"

"Thank you, Forrest," Leo replied, giving his son a fond smile. Kamui proceeded over to the bed to join them both, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to Leo's lips once she took a seat.

"Happy birthday, my love," she murmured, regarding him with a look of tender affection. Leo reciprocated it tenfold, his fingers reaching out and brushing the slope of her cheek.

”Thank you, my dear,” he replied, his voice soft. Kana chose then to start fussing for attention, causing Leo to chuckle as he wiggled a finger in front of the infant’s face. “Are you wishing me a happy birthday as well, little one?” he asked of his baby boy with a grin. Kana grabbed at his finger with pudgy hands, latching onto the digit and bringing it into his gummy mouth to chew on it contently. His large, grey eyes observed Leo with a sense of wonder, the man noting just how much the baby resembled his mother in that moment.

Their newest addition had been quite the surprise originally; while Leo and Kamui had agreed they wanted an average-sized family, Forrest had required so much time and attention that the idea had been put on the back burner indefinitely. It was only after the couple got some much-needed privacy during one of their family’s visits that Kamui approached her husband one evening, revealing that they were going to have their hands full again in a number of months.

Kana had arrived a few weeks earlier than expected, accompanied by a shrill cry and a full head of blonde hair. He and Forrest were already complete opposites in terms of looks and personality, but even so, Leo loved both of his sons equally, and was eager for the day he would be able to tutor them on anything they wished to learn.

“Mama! Don’t we gotta get ready for Papa’s lunch thingie, soon?” Forrest asked, tugging insistently on his mother’s nightgown. “I wanna wear the pretty dress Auntie Elise got me!”

Leo audibly sighed, earning him a pointed look from Kamui, who then nodded at their son with a smile. The man still didn’t quite understand Forrest’s fascination with girl’s clothing, but he knew arguing against the boy’s request would only land him in the doghouse for the day.

”Oh, I’m sure Auntie Elise will love seeing you in your new outfit, darling,” Kamui told Forrest happily. “Why don’t you head on over to your room, I’ll be there momentarily to help you get dressed. I need to take care of Kana, first.”

”Okay, Mama!” Forrest agreed, then climbed down from the bed and hurried out of his parent’s quarters. Once the heavy sound of the doors closing reached their ears, Kamui turned to Leo, raising a questioning brow at him.

”I didn’t say anything,” he muttered, shifting his eyes to the side. Kamui sighed.

”I know we were raised in an environment with specific expectations, but I believe in having free will. If Forrest wishes to express himself through what he wears, who are we to protest against such?”

Leo twisted his lip, but nodded in grim acceptance. “It’s just... going to take some getting used to, is all. He doesn’t show any interest in the arcane either, which, where Brynhildr is concerned, worries me. He instead mentioned being fascinated with the way Oboro puts together outfits when she and Takumi visited last.”

”Then perhaps our son will be a world-renowned fashion designer when he grows up,” Kamui theorized with a shrug. “We can’t expect our children to follow in our footsteps, Leo, as much as we may wish it. And Forrest is barely five, he still has plenty of time to grow and figure himself out.”

Leo nodded again, then let out a deep breath. A tired smile found its way to his cheeks, and he reached for Kamui’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re such an amazing mother, Kamui,” he murmured, which earned him a bashful giggle.

”I try,” she replied, sending a wink his way. “But don’t sell yourself short, Leo; you’re a wonderful father, as well. You just need a little more patience.”

Leo turned his eyes to Kana, who had pulled his little foot into his mouth and was slobbering all over his toes. “Yeah,” he agreed, scrubbing a hand through the baby’s wild blonde hair, “You’re right.”

The king-consort's birthday gathering, as was expected of such a... unique group of individuals, was quite the charade from start to finish. It began with Leo being corralled into the main wing of the palace and coming face-to-face with practically everyone he knew, all cheering and shouting variations of "happy birthday" at him. He greeted as many of his friends and family as possible before he was ushered toward the ornate dining table set up in the middle of the room, taking a seat at the head of it at the urging of his wife. Kamui then took her place at his right, Kana sound asleep in her arms. Just as Leo was about to ask where their eldest son was, Forrest ran by in a frilly blue gown, laughing as his younger cousin Ophelia and elder cousin Kiragi chased after him.

Lunch was served a while after, a banquet consisting of many tomato-infused dishes that left Leo's mouth watering. He cast a knowing look to Kamui, who just shrugged with a little smile as she popped a forkful of pasta into her mouth. It was then that Forrest decided to join them, climbing into his father's lap and stealing bits of food from his plate.

"Ahem," came Xander's voice from the opposite end of the table, and suddenly the king of Nohr rose, holding a flute of champagne. "I just wanted to say a few words in regards to the man of the day - my little brother, Leo." He paused as he stared toward his glass and swished it a few times. "It's hard to believe you're already nearing thirty. It feels like only yesterday I was giving you piggyback rides and teaching you the basics of swordsmanship with a wooden stick." A low bout of laughter rose at the comment, which caused a tiny smile to bloom on Xander's face. "You've made me so proud to be your brother in the time since we first met, and have grown into one of the finest men I have ever known, and an even finer king, at that." He lifted his glass then, holding it out toward Leo. "So, here’s to my brother, Leo! May many more years follow you, and may they be filled with nothing but happiness."

"To Leo!" the rest present echoed, lifting their glasses as well. Leo's cheeks heated at the sudden onslaught of attention, but he nodded in appreciation, regardless. He nearly choked when Kamui suddenly stood from her seat, obviously wanting to reflect her own thoughts to everyone.

"I completely understand where Xander is coming from when he says it's hard to believe just how much time has passed," she began, bouncing Kana all the while. "I met Leo for the first time when I was just eight years old, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that he couldn't stand me at all." She sent a smirk her husband's way, who sunk further into his chair as his cheeks turned an even darker shade of red.

"That being said," the woman continued, closing her eyes, "The stubborn little boy I once adored quickly grew into the most beautiful of men, and it wasn't long before I found myself falling for his dry wit, superior intelligence, and passionate endeavors. Of course, this was only after I found out we weren't actually related." Another round of laughter sounded, primarily from the royals on both sides. As they quieted down, Kamui turned toward Leo, her eyes centered on him and him alone. "I love you so much, my dear Leo. You've given me multitudes of happiness in the years we've been together, and even before that, you helped me in learning everything I could about the world around me - shaping me into the person I am today. I can only hope that I make your days as easy as you've made mine, and I wish you many, many, many more. Happy birthday, my love."

She moved to return to her seat just as everyone began to cheer, but Leo didn't let her. Instead, he rose from his chair and cupped her face in his hands, slanting his mouth over hers in a kiss brimming with passion. Those around them instantly began to hoot and holler at the unexpected action, but Leo didn't pay them any mind - he himself too focused on expressing his gratuitous affections to his wife.

”Leo,” she uttered breathlessly once they parted, a bashful smile gracing her lips. The man tenderly swiped his thumb along her cheek, before pressing another peck to her lips.

”If only you knew the extent of my thankfulness for you, my dear,” he replied, his expression tender.

”I’m thankful for Mama, too! And I’m thankful for Papa, also!” Forrest blurted from where he still sat in Leo’s chair - obviously wanting to be the center of attention. Both of his parents smiled down at him, Leo leaning over to press his lips to the crown of the boy’s head.

”If we’re done with the sappy speeches, we really should continue stuffing our faces,” Camilla, who was sitting next to Kamui, of course, suggested with a huff. “I’m just dying to show you all the cake I helped design!”

The gathering lasted early into the evening, something that hadn't been planned originally but no one complained about. Leo ended up having to scoop up a sleeping Forrest from where he had passed out under the dining table, he and Kamui each carrying their exhausted sons toward the bedroom wing as others began to return to their own quarters.

"At least we'll have a few hours of peace," his wife said with a giggle. "Between Kana being passed around to nearly every relative and Forrest playing with all of the other children, they'll be sleeping until tomorrow morning."

"One can only hope," Leo chuckled in response. They stopped in front of Forrest's room, Leo pushing the doors open and letting Kamui enter first. His wife went to sit in the plush lounge chair that was placed near the hearth while Leo carried Forrest into his bedroom, pulling back the covers of his bed and gently laying him down. He didn't have the heart to wake the boy in order to remove his party dress, so instead Leo tucked the covers around his little body, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Is our little prince all settled in for the evening?" Kamui asked when he reentered the greeting room, and he regarded her with a smile.

"Comfy as comfy can be, and still sound asleep," Leo affirmed, walking over to his wife just as she rose from her chair. Knowing she would want to give her proper goodnight's to their son as well, he took Kana into his arms, watching after Kamui as she disappeared into the bedroom.

”It’s been quite the day, hasn’t it, Kana-bean?” Leo uttered to his baby boy, grinning when the infant let out a little gurgle in his sleep. Indeed, the day had been one to remember, and during its entirety had given Leo quite the reality check about his life.

He was, without doubt, the luckiest man in the world.

Between a group of friends and family that would forever support him, two beautiful children that always managed to make his day a little brighter, and the loveliest, most compassionate woman in existence as his wife - Leo was certain the gods had favored him tenfold, even if his life hadn't necessarily begun that way. Every little instance of pain he had faced, every little betrayal, he would endure without question again if it meant being able to be here in this moment.

"Ready to head out?" Kamui asked once she exited Forrest's bedchamber, placing a gentle hand on her husband's arm. Leo nodded once, allowing his wife to lead the way as the two of them quietly left their son's quarters and proceeded down the corridor to their own.

Fate... luck... whatever the case, sure had a funny way of going about things.

But Leo, genius he was, chose not to question them at all.

Yay! :D Thanks so much for reading, likes and reblogs are always sincerely appreciated!!

Ao3 link

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hunty-booboo · 4 years

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Las Vegas Hidden Secrets for Tourists

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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Naptime (Bitney) - Veronica

A/N: Some canon Bitney based on their social media shenanigans last Saturday. My lovely friend @artificialvixen requested some canon Bitney and while I’m working on her original prompt, I whipped up this little oneshot. Thank you to @theofficialcunt for her awesome notes. <3

Shane pushes open the door to his apartment, laughing. “Oh come on, pussyface, you have to admit it was good!”

“It was weird,” Roy pouts. “Weird, and that spongy bread shit? I just wanted a fork.”

“It’s called injera. And it’s a utensil as well as part of your meal. I think that’s ingenious, and environmentally friendly.”

“I LIKE EATING WITH A FORK!” Roy hollers, hands on his hips.

Shane giggles. “Yeah, well, they gave you a fork, didn’t they, Grandpa?”

Roy rolls his eyes, following Shane down the hall to his bedroom. “Yeah, yeah yeah. But it was fuckin’ weird and I didn’t like it.”

“Next time you can choose the restaurant.”

“Next time? Like I’m ever gonna hang out with you again, you wretched little cumbiscuit…”

Shane laughs again, pulling out his computer and climbing onto the bed.

Roy flops down beside him, kicking off his shoes. “So. Show me these pictures.”

“Alright, I’ve narrowed it down to like 5, but I just need some feedback before I choose the final image.” Shane turns the screen towards Roy, showing him the selects from the shoot for Courtney’s holiday show poster.

Roy looks at the photos. “Um, I don’t love the third one. Your eyes are a little buggy. The others…yeah. Good choices.”

“But which one is cutest?”

Roy rolls his eyes, laying back down again. “They’re all cute.”

“Awww…”

“I mean, given what Magnus had to work with. Your hideous brick of a mug.”

Shane laughs and closes the computer. He glances down at Roy, eyes half closed, hat falling off. He touches his cheek. “Tired?”

“That’s the understatement of the fuckin’ century…” Roy sighs.

Shane lays down beside him, removing his hat and pulling the covers over him. “I’m not surprised. When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

“What’s sleep?” Roy mumbles.

Shane curls against his body, head on his shoulder. “I’m serious. You need to take better care of yourself, pussyface.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

“You work way too much. You need to plan breaks in your schedule. Combined with the drinking, the-”

“You drink too, Miss Perfect.”

Shane nods in agreement. “Yeah, I do, absolutely, and even to excess…occasionally. Occasionally being the operative word there. And then I sleep until I’ve recovered, and hydrate, and eat healthy food. I don’t just drink 17 cups of coffee, or whatever else you do to stay awake-”

“Watch it.”

Shane sighs. “I’m not judging you, but…you’re not going to be able to keep up with this pace forever. And some of us kind of enjoy your company, and want you around past your next birthday.”

Shane had spoken with an airy, lighthearted tone, but there was an edge to it. A forcefulness that causes Roy to turn his head, to look at his friend, the intensity in his green eyes. “Sappy bitch,” Roy says, unable to resist breaking the tension rising between them.

“Yeah, well…” Shane’s hand finds his under the covers, brushing against his warm skin, lacing their fingers together, not letting Roy off the hook that easily.

Roy clears his throat. This has happened between them before, a few times, over the years. But it was always fueled by alcohol, adrenaline, the loneliness of life on the road. Quick and dirty, barely making eye contact. Barely frequent enough to be called “friends with benefits.” More like best friends who’d gotten each other off a couple of times. Three or four times, tops, if Roy’s counting.

This is different. For one thing, they are both stone cold sober. If you don’t count Roy’s exhaustion. For another, there’s that glowy afternoon light slanting into the room through the curtains. And there’s the fact that Roy knows, maybe more than anyone, what Shane went through this summer. How shattered he was after his breakup and how difficult it was for him to then slap on that sunny smile and go through the painfully awkward dating show nonsense. How all the stress of fighting with Willam was just icing on the cake. And so, as much of an asshole as Roy can be, there’s not a chance in fucking hell that he’s going to hurt him right now with “no, we shouldn’t” - even though they absolutely shouldn’t. Not here, not like this. But anyway, Roy has to admit to himself, he wants it too. He brings Shane’s fingers up to his mouth and bites gently on his knuckles, watching the blonde through hooded eyes.

Shane grins, fluttering his lashes in that coy, Courtney way of his. He flings a leg over Roy’s body, running his free hand through his dark hair, pads of his fingers against his scalp making Roy shiver. The soft, babylike sigh that escapes Roy’s lips causes Shane’s pupils to dilate. He leans down to whisper in Roy’s ear. “Let me take care of you…” He feels fingers digging into the small of his back as Roy nods eagerly, still sleepy-eyed, but skin now hot to the touch.

Roy can feel his pulse speeding up as Shane’s hands slide under his shirt. As whispery soft kisses are pressed to his jaw, his neck, down to his collarbone. He clutches the fabric of Shane’s shirt, tugging. Suddenly the desire to feel his skin is a need, an ache beyond reason. Shane slips out of the shirt and smiles at him. “Kiss me,” Roy says, and it’s a breathless demand, an urgent plea.

As Shane bends down to comply with his request, he grinds his hips against Roy’s, desperate to relieve the burning pressure in his belly, pressing Roy deeper into the mattress. He brushes his lips against Roy’s, letting the plush softness melt against him as the kiss deepens. Roy’s hands are on his ass now, gripping him tightly, arching up to rut against him, whimpering into Shane’s mouth. Shane breaks the kiss, licking Roy’s bottom lip softly. His head is getting fuzzy. This is hotter than he expected. Roy is so needy, panting into his neck now. He rubs circles against Roy’s head again, hears another breathy whimper that causes him bite down so hard he tastes blood.

Clutching Shane’s ass, Roy nearly whines his next request. “I want to taste you…”

Shane wastes no time losing his shorts, shimmying out of his briefs. He scratches a light trail down Roy’s chest as he crawls forward, hovering over him. He runs his thumb across Roy’s swollen lips as he arches forward. “Let’s put those ridiculous DSLs to work, eh?”

Roy cackles, and it’s so very him, and it gives them both a charge, a jolt of energy electric as lightning. “Come here, you fucking whore.”

A naughty smile passes across Shane’s face as he kneels, straddling Roy’s shoulders, taking hold of the headboard. Roy’s plush lips fall open, and he starts to slowly, agonizingly, slide his dick into the wet heat of his mouth. Shane feels a wicked little thrill down his spine, watching Roy from this angle, vulnerable and obedient. Shane grabs a fistful of his hair, eyes gleaming with lust.

With one hand gripping Shane’s hip and the other wrapped around his dick, Roy begins to swirl his tongue in circles, sucking and licking, relishing the way he begins to subtly rock against his lips, but soon loses control, fucking his face with reckless, aggressive force. Shane moans brokenly, and Roy knows he’s close; he can taste it, feel it in the back of his throat. “Come on, baby,” he growls around Shane’s pulsing cock.

Shane’s thrusting slows, becomes harder and deeper, and Roy squeezes his hand around the base of his shaft, sucking harder, flicking his tongue. He hums softly, low and deep and Shane moans, exploding into his mouth. Roy leans back, exhausted but victorious. Still in charge.

Shane collapses, chest heaving. “You tricked me…” he pants, a good-natured smile playing across his lips.

“Oh yeah?” Roy murmurs, chuckling. He can barely keep his eyes open.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you, but you…”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m very giving.”

“Generous to a fault, that’s you,” Shane scoffs.

“Exactly.”

“Wrong. You’re a control freak. You just have to top from the bottom.”

Roy laughs, pulling Shane against him. “Was it unsatisfactory, baby?”

Shane snuggles into his arms, a hand moving in lazy circles against his chest. “That’s not what I said.”

“Okay, well then, there you go.” Roy inhales the scent of his hair. “You’re welcome.”

“Cocky bastard.”

A low, sleepy chuckle is the only response.

“And what about you? I care about fairness and justice, you know,” Shane murmurs.

Roy chuckles again. “You’ll owe me one. Now let me sleep.”

Shane makes another noise, halfway between a protest and a contented sigh, as he relaxes completely, letting his body melt into Roy’s, drifting off to sleep.

***

Roy murmurs happily, shifting. He’s warm…hot, actually, but in a good way, wrapped in Shane’s down comforter and pressed up against his bare chest. And something feels so…very…

His eyes flutter open. It’s nearly dark outside and his body feels heavy and calm. And Shane’s breath is softly tickling his neck, his fingers up under his shirt, trailing slow, lazy figure eights on his torso. His fly is open, and Shane’s leg, flung across his groin, is rubbing against his hard dick in a way that makes him feel weak. He wraps a hand around the base of Shane’s neck and whispers, “I guess naptime is over, huh?”

Shane smiles into the crook of his neck, sucking a light kiss into the tender flesh. “Are you still sleepy?” he asks, working up to his jaw, nuzzling against the scruff of his five o’clock shadow.

Roy shifts against Shane’s thigh, tightness curling in his belly. “I’m exhausted. But…my dick is hard.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed…” Shane licks his pulse point, rocks his hips a fraction of an inch, enough to cause Roy physical pain. Off his whimper, Shane lifts his head. “What was that, love?”

“I hate you…” Roy whispers.

Shane giggles, saying, “There’s no need to be rude.” He runs his hand gently through Roy’s hair, then grips it tight in his fist, breath hot as he whispers, “You gonna be good this time?”

Roy nods, not trusting his own voice, goosebumps prickling his skin.

Shane continues to suck gentle, teasing kisses into his skin, hands drifting up and down his chest, getting closer to the waistband of his briefs with every stroke.

As his heart begins to pound, Roy pushes his shorts halfway down his thighs. Shane is slowly moving down his chest, mouth on his stomach now. Roy grabs his hair, can’t help pushing down on his head. The involuntary move causes Shane to look up with a naughty glint in his eye, lashes fluttering. Roy whimpers. “Please…”

Grinning, Shane gets back to business. “So polite. Much better.” He lowers Roy’s underwear, paying no attention to the way the older man is squirming and panting.

And then Shane is straddling him, hovering over him while he tears open a condom and slides it on, and Roy is disoriented for a second. This isn’t what he thought was happening, at this moment, and as Shane starts to lower down slowly, Roy has a flash of concern. “Wait! You’re not-”

“I am,” Shane winks. “I told you I was taking care of things, didn’t I?”

Roy nods, relief flooding through his body, arms around Shane’s waist as he fights the urge to thrust, to take charge. He lays back, letting Shane ride him until he can barely breathe.

Shane leans forward, stroking Roy’s feverish cheeks, brushing their lips together. “You okay, baby?”

The desperate moan into his open mouth is Roy’s only response.

Shane rocks harder, deeper, slower. He pushes two fingers into Roy’s mouth, which he sucks on with glassy-eyed fervor. Shane leans back, muscles contracting, watching Roy fall apart completely. “Come for me…”

Roy claws at his thighs, arching up with a groan as he comes, gasping for air.

Shane strips the condom off and tosses it into the trash, moving back to curl against his flushed skin. Roy practically purrs in satisfaction as Shane begins licking him clean, fists buried in his silky hair.

“Fuck, Shane,” he sighs happily, aware of nothing but the warmth enveloping him, Shane’s soft tongue. He loosens his grip on Shane’s hair, body sinking into the mattress, enjoying every second of his gentle affection as his eyes fall closed again.

Wrapping himself around Roy’s body, Shane nuzzles into his neck, blowing into his ear.

“I love you.” The words slip easily from Roy’s lips. Of course, they are words he’s said to Shane a million times, but not like this, in this context. He realizes what just happened and freezes in dread.

Shane smiles easily, letting him clear off the hook. “Don’t worry. I know what you meant.”

“I just-”

“Stop panicking,” Shane tells him, “It’s okay; I love you too. Cunt.”

Roy relaxes. He should have known. That of course Shane would get it. He always has. That’s why this fucked up dynamic works for them in the first place. “Well, thanks.”

“And hey, if we’re not married by the time we’re 40…” Shane begins, teasingly.

“I’m 42, you nimwit,” Roy reminds him.

“Oh, right. Well. By the time I’m 40…”

“If I make it that long…”

Shane gives him a cross look. “Not funny.”

“Sorry.” Roy shakes his head, a contented smile spreading across his face. “I dunno, Shane. That’s only 5 years away. You sure you wanna make that kind of commitment?”

Shane giggles, leaning on his shoulder. He pokes at one of his dimples. “You’re pretty cute.”

“One of us has to be.”

Shane laughs again, cupping his face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Watches his eyes flutter shut again.

***

Roy sits up, rubbing his eyes, yawning. “What time is it?”

“Uhh…almost eleven?”

He sighs. “I should probably head home.”

“Alright.” Shane moves slightly, giving Roy the space to get up, trying to think about what a good time they had, rather than how cold the bed will feel without him.

Roy stands up and fastens his fly, straightening his clothes. Shane’s gazing up at him from the bed with this pensive little smirk, and as he puts his hat back on, he says, “Let’s take a selfie.”

Shane laughs. “Sure. But I should probably put my shirt back on.”

“Good call,” Roy snickers, picking his shirt up off the floor and tossing it to him.

Shane gestures to a huge light tucked into the corner. “Turn on the ring light. It takes years off. And the overhead so that it’s not obvious.”

Roy laughs some more, complying with his requests. “Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”

“Come here.” Shane scoots over to the foot of the bed, and Roy sits, holding up his phone.

They pose, and Roy takes a few shots, then opens Instagram. He selects his favorite picture, throws on a moon filter and begins to type out a caption. He’s adding hashtags when he hears the strangled noise from Shane’s throat and looks up to see his dumbfounded expression. “What?”

“You can’t post that picture!” Shane exclaims incredulously, throwing his hands up.

“Why not?”

“Why not?! Because look at us! You look dazed, there’s an unmade bed in the background, and my hair is-”

“I think we look cute.”

“I think that if you post that picture, people will speculate wildly.” Shane raises his eyebrows.

“They already do,” Roy laughs. “So what?”

Shane opens his mouth. “I…”

“Well? I mean honestly, who cares? People have very sad lives. Let them fucking speculate.”

Shane looks at him with a slightly smug expression. “Man, you really can’t resist putting your trade on social media, can you?”

Roy cackles. “I guess not. You got a problem with that?”

“I guess not,” Shane winks.

“Alright then.” Roy adds one last hashtag (#goodtimes) and hits post.

“Nice hashtags. Very original.”

“Fuck off.”

Shane giggles. “You should have said hashtag fork me.”

Roy cackles, rising from the bed. “That’s funny.”

“I’m not just just a pretty face, you know,” Shane sings, smirking up at him.

Roy touches his cheek, eyes soft. “No…”

Shane swallows. “Well, don’t do that.”

“Sorry. I meant to say…go fuck yourself, asshole. You’re a slut, and I hate you.”

Shane nods, cracking a smile. “See? That feels much better, doesn’t it?”

“It does, thanks.” Roy flashes his dimples one last time and then turns to leave. “Goodnight, Shane.”

“Goodnight.”

#bitney #veronica #courtney act #bianca del rio #smut #fluff #oneshot #naptime #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant

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fictionalabyss · 7 years

Text

Consequences

Pairings: Samxreader, Crowleyxdaughter!reader, Dean Word count: 4,930 Co-Authored with : @reigningqueenofwords Warnings: Talk of prior abuse, swearing Original Post Date : April 25th, 2016

Chapter 12 of ‘She’s Leaving, Dean’.

Crowley glared at him. “I left her to calm down, Squirrel. Don’t you dare tell me how to cope.” He snapped.

Dean shook his head. “You didn’t see it, did you?”

“See what?” The anger dripped from his voice.

Staring at the demon in front of him, he currently wished he could make Crowley see. What he had seen that night. The weeks after. And then you, right after he’d left. “Your eyes? Reminded her of the demon that nearly killed her.” Dean’s voice was low, wanting to hurt Crowley as much as he could. “Cas!” He hollered, making Crowley even more angry.

“Yes?” Cas looked over at Crowley and sighed. “Did he hurt her?” He asked.

“Emotionally. I know it takes a lot out of you, but can you take us back to the night that we found her? He needs to fucking see the images that are flashing through her mind at the moment. What haunted her, what caused her nightmares, and what will likely bring them back.”

Cas nodded.

They found themselves in a tree outside a bedroom window. Crowley looked around. “Just watch. You’re getting the short version.”

Crowley watched the empty bedroom. He waited. And then the bedroom door was kicked in. And he saw him, the man on his rack. He saw the look in his eyes, and he saw Lori in there. Crowley watched as he moved around the room, searching. He saw the man look to the closet door and smirk at it.

Dean turned away. “I don’t need to see this.” But Crowley watched.

As the closet door got ripped off it’s hinges, he heard your scream. “Daddy! Please! Please don’t! I was good, I didn’t say anything I promise! Please!!!”

Crowley tried to move forward and stop this, but Cas and Dean both grabbed him. “You need to let it play out… You mustn’t interfere.” Cas gave him a sad look as he spoke. He watched in horror as the man grabbed your ankles and dragged you out of the closet screaming and crying. He saw your phone on the floor, still on. When he saw you get slammed into the side of the dresser he couldn’t take it.

“Enough.” Crowley growled as a fist was coming down to hit you.

“Down stairs Cas… about 25 minutes from now.” Dean glared at Crowley. “I’ll tell you when it’s enough.”

The three stood outside a downstairs window on the side of the house. They could see Dean coming down the stairs quickly with your backpack of clothes, looking around. Sam was behind you as you got to the top of your stairs, but looking behind, in case the man appeared out of a room. Crowley could see you were barely able to walk as it was, and when he spotted the man appear out of the kitchen door way, his wide eyes shot to you as you went flying down the stairs. He watched as Sam went over the landing next, and Dean was slammed against the wall.

“Enough!” he was almost yelling.

“No.” Was all Dean said to him. “Cas, motel about an hour from now.”

They were outside the room looking in a crack in the curtains. The door had just closed when they got there. “No.” Crowley refused to look.

Dean shoved him “We lived it. You don’t get to say no.”

He looked in, and he saw the as Sam carried you to a bed and placed you gently. He watched as they tried to convince you that they had to treat your wounds. You were bleeding, your face, your arms.. Everywhere. He watched as they finally convinced you. When he saw you in just your under wear and bra, the damage to your body, Crowley cried.

Dean looked to Cas. He knew that he was getting drained. “One last stop before home.” He told the angel. “About 4 am.” That was only hours from then, but they needed to get back. Who knew what state you were in at the moment. Cas nodded, and soon, they could hear you screaming. A light flicked on in the room, and Crowley saw you in an oversized shirt, looking much like a scared child. You were thrashing about in the bed. He saw Sam and Dean rush to your side. Sam held you gently to his chest while Dean hung his head. While this happened, Dean kept his eyes down, trying to hold back the tears that were forming. It was hard enough on those nights that his mind forced him to relive it, but to actually watch? That was too much for him.

Minutes later, Dean walked out, gently shutting the door. Crowley watched as Sam shifted, holding you up so he could sit against the headboard. You were in his lap, clinging to him for dear life, shaking, and crying. Sam rocked you gently, humming to you. Moments later, past Dean walked back into the room. He was carrying his duffle bag with everything in it. He saw you glance at it, and relax ever so slightly. Once you stopped shaking, you allowed Sam to lay you down, but not to leave you. You finally fell back asleep on his chest, his arm around you.

“Home, Cas.” Dean whispered. Moments later, Crowley was back in the devils trap, Cas and Dean right outside. “Can you go help her get some sleep, and then relax, Cas. Thanks for doing this.” Dean told him.

“Anything for her.” He said before heading to your bedroom.

Dean waited to say anything, letting everything Crowley just saw sink in. “Now do you get it? She’s relieving that night in her head. You couldn’t push aside your selfish fucking need to torture Lori to comfort your own daughter. Instead, you looked at her with the same eyes that she saw that night. That she saw in her dreams for months.”

Crowley’s shoulders were slumped. He looked broken. “I need to see her… I need…”

“No.” Dean cut him off. “You don��t get to. Not now. Not until she’s ready. We need to pick up the damn pieces, all over again. And it wasn’t easy the first time around. What you saw was nothing compared to living it.”

Sam quietly walked into the room. “You don’t get to decide that Dean.”

Dean glared at his brother. “What!?”

Sam broke the devils trap. “You don’t get to decide that he can’t see her.” He turned to Crowley. “Cas is with her. He finally got her to sleep, but you can sit with her if you want.” Crowley nodded at him and left the room, not even looking at Dean.

“What the hell, Sammy!?”

Sam sighed. “I don’t like it, either. I want to kill him right now, but think back. Over the past couple months. Look how happy she has been.” He shrugged. “It’s up to her whether or not she wants her space from him.” Dean was glaring at him, pissed. “I love her, and want to keep her safe, but we can’t protect her from everything. Maybe, just maybe, as sick as it is, he’ll finally get it. Maybe it’s what they needed to understand each other. She saw the side of him that he didn’t want her to. He saw what makes her so easily flip out, hurt, and why she hates that man so much.”

Dean’s jaw locked. “He hurts her again, and he’ll rot in that damn trap.” He ground out, walking past Sam. Sam sighed, shaking his head.

Crowley approached the room you shared with Sam. Slowly, he walked in. Cas was next to you on the bed. He was sitting up, ankles crossed. Your back was to him, your knees practically up to your chest. Cas glared at him. “I’m doing my best at keeping the nightmares at bay.” He said quietly.

Despite having been in there before, he’d never actually paid attention to anything. He looked around, noticing pictures of you with the boys. There were some when you were younger, and the smile didn’t reach your eyes. And then, you were actually happy. There were pictures of a couple of your birthdays, a picture of you all dressed up for a case, your cheeks a bright pink from blushing, and so many more. But what really caught his eye, were the pictures where you and Sam were together. If you were looking at the camera, he was looking at you as if there was no one else around. If he was looking, you looked at him with pure love and devotion. Even years before the two of you were actually together. Looking to Cas, his face was full of regret. “I’d like to be with my daughter.” He told him.

“I’m not leaving you alone with her.” The angel told him.

“I deserve that.” Crowley sighed. He stood next to the bed and made a soft chair appear. He sat down, taking one of your hands in his. From the outside, you would think it looked like a scene from a hospital. He rested his forehead on the top of your hands. You shifted slightly, but didn’t wake up.

After a while, Sam came to the door. “Go rest, Cas.” Cas glanced at Crowley, who still had his head on your hand. “I’ll watch over, don’t worry.” Cas nodded to Sam, and touched your head softly before getting up and going to find Dean. Sam stayed leaning on the door frame, giving Crowley some space with you.

His legs started to get sore, so he moved to the other side of the bed. He rested on his side, running his hand through your hair. “I hope you know, if she wants you gone, you’re leaving.” Sam told Crowley quietly. “And if you hurt her again like this, Dean says you’ll rot in the dungeon.”

Crowley looked up at him and nodded sadly. The last thing he had wanted was to cause you so much pain.

Your eyes fluttered open.”.. Dad?” your voice was soft. He looked at you, and when you saw how broken he looked, you got worried “Dad, are you okay?” He shook his head and put it down on your hand again. You sat up “What happened, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry….I’m so sorry, Love…” His voice was weak, and cracking. You looked over to Sam, confused, and worried.

“Sam? What happened? I mean, after he left?” You asked.

Sam sighed as he got up. “Dean summoned him, into the dungeon.” You nodded, figuring he did it there for the devil’s trap. “I’m sure that he tore him a new one, and then…Cas brought them into the past.” You looked down, processing what he said. “To that night.” His voice was barely audible. Your eyes went wide as you stared at your fiancee. “I don’t know what they showed him, but it clearly got to him.”

Your eyes moved to Crowley, and you weren’t sure what to say. What was there to say? He’d seen the night you wanted nothing more than to forget, the night that your world changed. While you were thankful it led you to Sam, the pain wasn’t something you wanted to remember. Licking your lips, you looked back to Sam.

“I’m going to give you some space. I’ll be right outside.” He told you before kissing you lightly and leaving.

You watched Crowley for a moment, then you tried to shift to get more comfortable. He lifted his head and you moved so you were sitting right in front of him. Your knees touching him as your toes touched the floor. He continued to hold your hand. “Dad.. what did you see?” You were afraid to ask, afraid to be reminded again, but you wanted to know.

“Enough, Love… I saw enough.” He pulled you to his chest and held you tight. He was shaking. Your arms went around him and you softly rubbed his back.

Dean saw Sam in the hall and was about to give him shit for leaving Crowley alone with you, but Sam raised a finger to his lips then pointed to the door. Both carefully peeked their heads around the corner. Sam smiled softly, but Dean grumbled and stormed off. He had no intention of forgiving Crowley any time soon.

After a few minutes, he pulled away and looked at you. “I saw you getting dragged from the closet, I saw you get thrown down the stairs, I saw Moose carrying you into the motel room…” His eyes were shining with unshed tears. “And then, I saw what really happened to you. I saw the bruises. The blood. I saw your first nightmare, and how Moose was the one to comfort you back to sleep.”

Once you heard him mention the stairs, you broke down. You pulled your hand from his gently and buried your face in both hands. It was nine years ago, but at times it felt like it was just yesterday. Swallowing, you looked up at him. “I think I’d like to just be with Sam for a little bit. I’ll come by hell in a couple hours. I need to– I need to just— I don’t know.” You had tears coming down your cheeks.

Crowley leaned forward and kissed your forehead. If demons slept, he would have nightmares for all eternity. “I’ll see you soon, love.” He snapped his fingers and was gone. He knew that nothing could ever make up for that night, it couldn’t make up for him being the reason that you had to relive it, and nothing would be able to make you forget his eyes when he had looked at you. However, he wanted to get you something, anything, to show how priceless you were to him.

“Sammy….” He looked in the room, and saw you alone again. “Just.. please just..”

He got in bed and pulled you to him, holding you like he had that night 9 years ago. “I’ve got you. don’t worry.”

After a few minutes you looked up at him. “Is Dean okay?”

Sam shook his head softly. “It’ll be a bit before Dean is okay.”

You thought for a bit. “Did he got out? Or is he still here..?” You snuggled closer to his chest, feeling safer than you had in a couple days.

“I don’t know, actually.” He admitted. “He looked like he might rip my head off a few minutes ago, and then he stormed off.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes. “I’m sorry, Sam.” You told him. “I need to tell Dean that, too. I wish you guys didn’t get put in the middle.”

He rubbed your back. “I’m not in the middle. I’m right beside you. I always will be.” You smiled at the thought.

After a few minutes you sighed. “I think I’m okay now. I’m going to go try and find Dean, okay?” Sam kissed your forehead before letting you go.

You padded around the bunker looking for Dean. You were not surprised to find him downing beers in the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, but when he looked up from his 6th beer and saw you, he straitened up. His face was etched with worry. You all but ran to him, and threw your arms around his middle, hugging him tight. He put his beer down and his arms circled you. “I’m so sorry, Dean.” you mumbled into his chest.

Dean sighed. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Princess.” He said soothingly. “It’s that son of a bitch that does.” He kissed the top of your head. “I know he’s your father, but I can’t forgive him for tonight. I’m sorry. I just can’t. He was more pissed off at me than himself when I summoned him. It wasn’t until he saw…that night…that it hit him how much he hurt you tonight.”

Looking up at him, he hated seeing how broken you were. Again. “I have you guys. I’ll be okay.” You gave him a small smile.

“I’m scared, Y/N.” He told you quietly. “Scared that it’ll be like those first weeks all over. That you keep saying your fine, and I’ll hear you screaming bloody murder during the night.” His heart dropped at the idea. “And it’ll be even harder to fight this time, because you’ve already had to do it. You’ve had to push those memories down. Just for them to be brought back.” He rubbed his thumb over your cheek.

You moved away, grabbing a beer, and hopping up on the counter. Sipping it, you stared off into space. “I’m not going to defend him, Dean. Not at all. But I won’t vilify him, either. You didn’t see how broken he was when he kept saying he’s sorry. It’s going to take time to work through this, but I won’t shut him out.” You took a swig and sighed. “I respect your choice to be upset, Dean, I really do. Just, play nice when he’s here? At least no trying to kill him?”

“No promises” he grumbled. You smiled at how stubborn he was, and softly kissed his cheek.

Crowley paced his office, expecting you at any moment. He had ended up getting you a simple tennis bracelet with diamonds, and rubies. It wasn’t exactly what he was looking for, but he was too preoccupied to focus. You deserved a much better apology, but none came to mind. ‘Sorry I’m a shit father and scared you!’ Didn’t seem to cover it.

You popped into your father’s office and watched him pace for a moment. “Are you trying to put a hole in your floor?” You asked him gently, making him look up at you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fatherhood wasn’t something I was ever good at.” He told you, moving closer.

“What?”

He sighed. “I was always a terrible father, love. Gavin hated me.” he sighed. “And now you…’

You cut him off. “I don’t hate you, Crowley.” He stared at you, shocked. “I don’t hate you. At all. Frightened, a bit, but that’s more my past than you.” You told him. “Now, what would you like to do? Would you like to get some dinner? Or what?”

Crowley was still trying to soak in the fact that you didn’t hate him. “Actually, I want to give you something.” He told you, handing you a long rectangle box. “Not what I had in mind, but I think you’ll like it.” You opened it and smiled. “It’s the start of a very long ‘I’m sorry’.” He sighed.

Hugging him, you closed your eyes. “Gavin was an idiot for hating you. And you don’t have to get me things to tell me you’re sorry. Your actions are enough.”

He smiled. “Actually, Gavin’s distaste in me was perfectly justified. I wasn’t exactly fond of the little shit. But you changed me, Love. I saw something in you, and I tried to do better.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “At least I’m not trying to dodge assassination attempts by older siblings!” He grinned at you, glad to hear you laughing again, even if it wasn’t as jovial as it was before.

Crowley’s smile faded. “Are you really frightened of me, Love?” His voice was sad, and it broke your heart.

Gently, you put your hand on his cheek for a moment. “What I saw did scare me. It down right terrified me. I saw your eyes like that, and I was fifteen again, being thrown around like a rag doll.” His heart clenched. “I could feel the bruises, the fear, everything. It was like I was there, but looking into someone else’s eyes. It will take me time to work through everything, but I’ll be okay. I’m not going to push you away because of something that happened nine years ago.” He gave you a soft smile. “You might want to avoid Dean for a bit though. He’s.. well.. he’s pretty pissed at you.”

“I can deal with that, Love. It’s not like we were best friends to begin with.”

“I told him to behave, though. He’s not to kill you when you’re at the bunker. You’re family, and I’m not going to not invite you to things because he’s mad.” You sighed, sitting in the chair in front of his desk and kicking your feet up. “Of course, I don’t know how long until I get paged by Sam. Dean was on beer six when I stole one.”

He sat on the side of his desk and nodded. “That, and I’m sure Moose would enjoy your company. He looked pretty shaken when I saw him.”

You ran your hand through your hair. “I may just bring him here, I know Franky must be worried, and this way Dean can go as ape shit as he wants.”

He smiled. “I told you she’d make the perfect hound. She took off and scared everyone when you were in trouble. That’s how I knew to get to you as quick as I could.”

“Yeah. She almost ripped Cas’s face off when he tried to heal Sam. She wouldn’t let anyone touch him.” You smiled. “I’m very thankful for her dad. Is she alright? She didn’t get hurt did she?” He shook his head. You sighed in relief. “How about you go get her, and Juliet, and I’ll go get Sam. We can go hang out in one of the training rooms and let them play.” You thought that maybe not actually doing anything would help all of you.

“First, you mentioned roses earlier?”

“After all this, that’s what you ask about?” You laughed. He shrugged. “I’ll grab the picture when I get Sam.”

“Alright, Love.”

You snapped back to the bunker. You could hear Sam and Dean arguing. You sighed and went towards the noise.

“I leave you guys for 10 minutes and I come back to this?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “What is it now?” You sighed, really not in the mood for their sibling bickering.

Dean turned to you. “I was telling Sammy how I don’t think you rushing off to hell is a bright idea.” He snapped.

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

“He just scared you, completely spacing out like that, after pretty much butchering Lori, and you’re going to go running back there?”

“Yes, I am, Dean.” You snapped back. “I was only coming to get Sam and that picture of the roses because Dad asked for it.” You could tell Dean wasn’t pleased. “I get it, Dean. You’re upset. You’ve hated him since forever. You’re going to have to get used to it, because like it or not, he’s going to be around here more often. Whether it’s family dinners, holidays, our wedding, kids, whatever. You’re gonna have to see him. I’m not going anywhere, I’m with Sam, which means that Crowley kinda comes with that.”

Dean slammed his beer down, causing it to spill all over the counter, and he stormed out.

You sighed. “I’m going to spend the night in hell tonight. Crowley needs to know I don’t hate him for this. I’m not going to force you to come, but I’d like it if you did.” You walked out of the room, and went to get the picture, and your other bridal magazines.

Sam ran his hand through his hair and followed you. He knew Dean was upset, but there was no reason to fault you for wanting your father around. He’d give him time, and then he would talk to him. Or slap some sense into him. He leaned on the door frame to your room. “I’m going with you.” Sam told you simply.

“I don’t want Dean to hate me too, for having you come.” You whispered, honestly afraid it would turn out like that. Dean had been walking by and paused when he heard you. He was still angry, but did you honestly think he could hate you? “He’s like my family too, but why is it so wrong to want my father in my life?” You asked, your voice full of sorrow. He turned and went back to his room.

Sam held you close, rubbing your back. “Let’s go, babe.”

“Go let him know you’ll be back in the morning at least. It’ll give me time to collect what I want to bring.” He nodded and left.

You didn’t really need time, it was all already together, but you didn’t want Sam to just leave on his brother. While he was gone, you sat on the edge of your bed. This had always felt like home. Now? Now you didn’t feel you had one. Here you felt like you’d be walking on eggshells around Dean, but in Hell, everyone hated you. What the hell were you supposed to do?

Sam walked back in less than ten minutes later and noted how something seemed off, and made a note to ask about it later. Smiling, you held him close and snapped your fingers. You were in your room. “We are going to meet Dad, Franky, and Juliet in one of the training rooms. I know Franky was worried about you.”

He pulled glasses out of his shirt pocket. You looked at him confused. “So I can finally see her.” he smiled.

“How long have you had those?” You asked, setting your things down. Taking his hand, the two of you walked down the hall.

Sam shrugged. “A bit.” He had just forgotten about them. You found your father and the two hounds in the training room. As soon as Franky saw Sam, she rushed over to him, trying to get him to pick her up.

He put on the glasses and looked down. “There you are, Franky.” he smiled. Juliet was weary of Sam. She had met him before, and not in a good way, but watching him play with Franky, she was a bit jealous.

You went and sat next to Crowley. You handed him the picture of the roses. “I have magazines in my room, I can snap them here if you want to look at them with me.” you smiled, as he looked down at the picture.

“These are lovely. A bit dark, aren’t they?” He chuckled.

“Well, next time I’m here alone, I’d like to see someone about my dress, and then you’ll see they’re perfect.” You smirked. He looked at you, curious. Both of you glanced back over to where Sam was. You cracked up when you saw him laying on the floor, being licked to death by two hell hounds. “Yeah, they’re so vicious.” You teased. You could hear Sam laughing. Leaning against Crowley, you sighed. “I got in a fight with Dean.” You told him.

He raised an eyebrow. He was sure he knew what about, but obviously it was something you needed to talk through. You sighed. “He’s pretty pissed off at you. And he’s less then pleased that I’m here. I got home to him and Sammy fighting about it.” You looked over at Sam and the hounds again. “Sam stands by my choices… But Dean… I think he’s just worried about the after math of all this. He thinks I should get some distance for a bit.” You turned back to Crowley and gave him a soft smile. “I told him to suck it up, and get use to having you around. He was pretty pissed… But… I give him a couple of days and he’ll be calmed down again.”

Crowley sighed. “He damn well better be.” You playfully slapped his arm. “What’s he going to do when he has to be in the same room as me for your wedding? Throw a hissy fit?” You chuckled, glad to see that Crowley was in a better mood at least. “Moose!” He called to the other side of the room. “I’d be careful if I were you. Juliet is fully grown. She may get a bit rambunctious.” He smirked at Sam’s face.

“You’re so mean.”

“Isn’t that a father-in-law’s job, love?”

You shook your head, playfully rolling your eyes. “You just feel like getting those jabs in.”

Crowley chuckled. “I have to before the good news.” You looked at him funny. “Both boys are not only alive, but they have excellent credit, have no criminal record, and have a fresh start.” You grinned, hugging him tightly. “Thought you’d like that bit of news. I thought it would take longer, but it seems the demons I have…are good at what they do. A few have higher up positions now.” You let go, your eyes lighting up. “So we can do that surprise whenever your heart desires.” He whispered.

“Let’s get everyone not getting in fights first.” You laughed. “But, you can tell Sam the good news.”

“What good news?” You looked over your shoulder and did your best not to burst out laughing. His shirt was ruined, and he had a bit of slobber on him.

Crowley smiled and pulled some papers out of his pocket. “Your alive and well, Moose.”

Sam took the papers and sat on the floor in front of you so Franky could climb into his lap again. You snapped your fingers and Sam had a new shirt on. He smiled at you before flipping through the papers. “Dean, too!?” he looked up to Crowley. “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

“Be good to my daughter Sam. That’s all I ask.”

“Of course, Sir” Sam smiled.

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