#* ch: tyler stone.

[aquarium-ina-bag]

Where Danger Finds Me, it Follows with Tides - 8

Morality's Dust, I Lack in Trust Ch 8

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Blood, my gosh blood, angst

Relationship: Wednesday Addams x Reader

A/N: I had to rewrite this so many times ugh, srry it took so long. Man I gotta speed this up so I can get to the good parts. Edit: but there’s like TONS of foreshadowing I’ve added in the series, so overthinking you over thinkers >:)

All she got was holes—not an answer, not even a hint. Wednesday has been playing cat and mouse with you for weeks since the document incident. She gives plaudits for how well you can avoid things and push her onto a podium. One of your preferred answers was 'Why do you care?'

It could send Wednesday into a spiral. Why does she care? You were nothing but a stone on her glorious path of self-success, but you’ve grown into an illness, a parasite, and a leech. Those never troubled her before, so why now? 

Enid advised Wednesday multiple times to take things from a different perspective if she didn’t understand something at first. Of course, in typical Wednesday fashion, she thought that was puerile. You act childish, so she must evaluate childish ideas.

Instead of taking you as a sycophant, you shall be perceived as a case, just like Tyler, Xavier, and Laurel. Then, once she figures you out, you’ll just be another reward and out of the way. Superb plan. 

—————-

The creaking of hinges attracted Wednesday's attention. A quick slap on the cool wooden boards shut down her anticipation for someone different.

"Why thank you, Thing." Enid skipped her way past the door frame, letting Thing scurry and claw in before closing said door.

Enid continued to beat the floor with her unnecessary movements. "Whatcha doing?" She said, peering over the smaller girl’s shoulder. 

Wednesday was wrist-deep in the front pocket of her black bag; she shuffled in it to organize. "I’m going to the sheriff's department," Wednesday explained.

The wolf did her classic head rotation, displaying her confusion. 

Wednesday adored when Enid did that; it was beautifully simple, Wednesday would of course never voice that, but it’s something that makes her like Enid just a bit more—a minute amount.

"The bullet, I want to inspect if there’s DNA still on it," Wednesday said. 

Enid fidgeted with the rings on her finger. "Doesn’t the sheriff hate us after I almost killed his son?" She questioned. 

The goth girl snapped her fingers twice, commanding the extra appendage on her bed to come forth. "Unlikely. His son almost killed you; he also falsely accused us the whole time as well." Wednesday corrected. Thing followed her nonverbal order. 

The blonde slumped "Well, gee, when you put it like that, it’s like you praise him for it." Enid huffed. 

"I vocalize facts, Enid," Wednesday said. "Now come on, we don’t have all day." She put on her bag, moving to the door. 

Enid straightened back up, following her roommate. "I get to come?" 

"You did say us; don’t make me deplore my decision," Wednesday said, leaving the room. 

"No no no, no need for that," Enid reassured. The wolf skipped pursuing Raven's Wednesday. 

She talked the raven's ears off the whole way there, Wednesday only responded in simple hums and subtle nods. Enid learned to appreciate small things like this with Wednesday. Instead of ignoring her, snapping, and saying shut up, she now listens. It shows growth in the closed-off girl. 

The contrasting friends finally reach the police department, with one of the two walking in as if they owned the place. Wednesday didn’t give it a second thought when passing the receptionist. Enid silently apologized, rushing to get back to her free bird.

Wednesday surged in the sheriff's office, and the man sitting in the chair jumped slightly. "Who the hell comes into a room like that?" Galpin scolds the girls in front of him. 

"Sheriff Galpin… we come to you with a request,," Wednesday said. 

"Well, don’t you always." The sheriff mumbled, "There’s a receptionist for a reason, Addams." He tapped his fingers on paperback books in a rhythmic pattern. 

"I don’t wish to parley with someone who doesn’t have significant power in rank," Wednesday said. 

The sheriff gave a puzzled look before nodding slowly and saying, "I didn’t know Addams were capable of giving compliments." Galpin chuckled slightly.

"It wasn-" 

"It was!" Enid interrupted the girl beside her, "It’s very hard to get a compliment from this one," she nudged Wednesday, "consider yourself lucky, Sheriff!"

Donovan nodded again. "So what exactly did you two need?" He asked. 

Wednesday stopped her death glare at Enid to turn to the man. "I want you to run DNA on something, thoroughly." The raven said before fishing out the zip-lock bag she placed that carried the bullet, Wednesday settled it on the table. 

Galpin laughed again. "You don’t seem like a gun person, Addams." His posture fixed itself once he got hold of the bag "Where did you get this?" Donovan’s voice became more serious; his jaw relaxed, but his eyebrows told a different story. There were points where the sheriff did this—the whole changing demeanor, Enid thought it was intimidating, while Wednesday interpreted it as tomfoolery.

But Wednesday was perplexed now. Figuring out a story to tell the sheriff that won’t jeopardize her reputation in the case she’s made that mistake too many times and can’t afford it now, Wednesday now understands your importance in her makeshift cases and how you played a part in getting her out of legal trouble. It was going to be difficult to be against someone who helped in the shadows. That string of ‘why?’ again whispered in her head: Why is she even doing this? The raven ignored what she could. 

She noticed the pause was lengthened enough to make it suspicious, "I was in a friend’s dorm; I found it on the balcony." Wednesday said. 

The sheriff showed inquiry about her story; his silence pressed for more. Enid broke the thick tension. 

"She was in there for a project." Her voice was alert, and Enid’s movements were animated as usual. 

Galpin shifted his body in the chair, laid back, slouched, Wednesday mentally recorded, it’s something you do when you know your audience. Adapting to their personalities, ensuing a more comfortable conversation. 

"Can I ask what friend this is?" The male focused on Enid. "I want to make sure if they were shot by this, I've got a name already."

"Y/n L/n." Enid spoke without equivocation. 

The sheriff’s face snapped, attentive, incredulity, choler, possibly gaiety? "L/n? The one with the marking?" He sounded frantic, as if you were a threat. Wednesday nodded slowly. 

The tall male stood up in haste, "If you never listen to my advice, listen to it now. Keep. Away. From. Her. You two understand?" The girls exchanged looks at each other. "Do you? This isn’t a plea; it’s a demand." Galpin’s tone was stern. 

"Before we agree, can we ask why?" Wednesday said. 

"That’s something I can’t disclose; I wish I could for your safety, but I just can’t." The sheriff sighed in grief.

Wednesday rose a brow, "Do you know someone who can?" She said. 

Donovan rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger; he let out a puzzled groan. "Unless Y/n tells you, which won’t happen since you two won’t be talking to her anymore, nobody can tell you, not Weems, not me. End of discussion." 

"So Weems knows?" Enid asked.

"End of discussion I said. But I will get back to you on the DNA." He said while walking towards the exit of the room. "Do. Not. Talk. To. Y/n." Galpin glared at them before leaving, the two did the same, exiting the building itself.

"I’m going to guess that you’re going to do the exact opposite," Enid spoke up.

Wednesday had a barely noticeable grin, "You know me so well." Oh, those devious eyes could kill. 

They continue to walk and talk, "So how do we get the reason?" Enid asked. She pondered her own ideas. 

"Thing is doing that right now," Wednesday said. The wolf looked around to see where the hand was. "He’s staying at the sheriff's office for the day; hopefully he can actually get something this time," Wednesday explained. Enid’s mouth made an O shape, she nodded in silence. 

Wednesday continued, "Us on the other hand, shall try to pry Weems." Enid flashed her toothy smile, an attempt at burlesquing Wednesday’s devilish one. 

—————

Larissa’s work came to an abrupt halt when the heavy double doors opened. "Ladies, how can I aid you?" Enid shut the doors before standing next to Wednesday.

"Principal Weems, you told us before that Y/n is here on mandatory terms? Why is that?" Wednesday catechized the older woman. 

Weems hummed before looking away to drink her coffee. The girls were riveted by her movements until she finished the sip. "I’m going to guess you two have already challenged someone for material?" 

Enid, playing her good cop, "Yes, we have."

Larissa nodded, clasping her fingers together and white-knuckling each other. "I cannot tell you." She had a tight-lipped smile. "If I get word that you were able to pull some strings to get this information without Y/n’s consent, censure will be sent." She focused most of her attention on Wednesday. "Is that all?" 

Enid spoke, "Well, actually yes, I keep finding hair in my-"

"That will be all." Wednesday cut her off, dragging the wolf outside again. Weems chuckled.

"Wednesday, that was important! I keep finding it in the food! It’s gross!" Enid complained. 

"It’s your hair, Enid; you’re just shedding again." Wednesday huffed before mumbling, "Censure... Sure, watch me, Weems. Where’s Thing? I need that file." 

To Wednesday’s surprise, he was in the dorm with a file! For a second Wednesday debated whether to reward him. "Good job, Thing." He tapped around on the file, and the girls learned it’s a happy dance—well,  Enid calls it that. 

Wednesday shooed him off of it. Enid and Thing gathered on this side of her table as she sat, the goth was just staring at it. What possibly could this contain where people couldn’t even speak about it? Why should they avoid you? Who are you?

"You're just gonna stare? Hurry and open it!" Enid bounced with anticipation. Wednesday wasn’t helping with her slow opening.

The first papers were a little boring if not looked at carefully: plane tickets from Egypt to Washington, D.C., to here. What absorbed Wednesday was the plane; it wasn’t a regular commercial plane; this was a government aircraft. Why?

"Plane tickets, so what, next?" Enid ushered the goth. Wednesday satisfied Enid’s wishes.

On a copy of your birth certificate, multiple things were marked over with a black sharpie, the place of birth, hospital, DOB, last name, gender, and parents. 

"What’s up with this? All of it’s marked off, even the last name, is not their real name? The birthday is crossed off, parents crossed? Who did this?" Enid queried the same things Wednesday did in her head.

They removed the paper, which was in a sealed plastic cover. On the front page, a paragraph with marked-out words like the previous page, Wednesday managed to create a clear story. In summary, someone was describing the documents in the plastic as graphic, horrid, and completely grotesque. They said the crimes committed were outrageous; from what she guessed, your name, crimes, and punishment were covered up. 

"What the hell did she do?" Enid gawked at the paper. 

Wednesday had those eyes—eyes that showed how enticed she was. Her orbs looked to be void black, dilated black holes. Wednesday was so on edge that her skin was full of goosebumps; she was cold to the touch, "Clearly something odious." Wednesday responded while warily opening the seal, and removing the front cover.

Wednesday was no foe to blood; she’s seen it all in different forms, but never this much on one body. 

This was only your mugshot alone; you looked drowned in red, chunks, muscle, skin, shards of bone, and hair. Not an inch of your face wasn’t red. You looked less than six, but your eyes told a story only someone with years ahead of you could tell—a 100-mile stare. It didn’t help that there was blood in your eyes. You looked abominable. 

Once perfect hair is caked and coated with red. Lips were chapped, and blood was in their ravines. Your mouth was slightly gaped, your front teeth were stained. Eyes were bloodshot, just as the rest of you, but the veins in them were prominent purple webs. You didn’t look sad or scared; prostrated and exasperated were the words. The marking had similar veins to your eyes. 

"Oh my god." Enid’s voice was muffled, her hands were over her mouth, and her complexion was paler. "I’m like literally going to puke. Who the hell’s blood is that?" 

The rest of the page contained your name, which was marked over; the date of your incarceration is the same as practically everything else, scribbled out.

Wednesday removed the page. Pictures of your clothes, hands, and fingerprints.

The prints weren’t even inked; you just used the blood that was already on them. Your hands drew her in; they were painted with blood, inside your nails, and creases, but crescents were dug in them, to the point you were bleeding. Wednesday has never seen scars on you except for those crescents on your hand. 

The clothes you had on were tattered, buttons gone, sodden in blood. 

Again, she removed the page and fingerprint card. About all of the words were written over, just the last name ‘Khuld’, age of five, and the gender of a girl.

The silence of stupefaction was broken, "Wednesday please don’t tell me this girl’s blood is on Y/n." Enid's voice was trembling, her breath was ghostly frozen, and she was as pale as a ghost. All Wednesday could do was shift her head down; she didn’t know, but all they did was wish it wasn't. 

Wednesday regrets even lifting the page up. She heard Enid gag before running to the bathroom, and the wolf hurled vulgarly in the toilet. 

All Wednesday could do was stare at the pictures in front of her. How could someone do this? The amount of blood on you didn’t Juxtapose to this or anything she’s ever seen. The pictures just kept coming—diverse angles, variant zooms. 

Wednesday shuffled the pictures until the autopsy photos. 

 There is barely anything to prove this discombobulation was once a body. The doctors laid out organs to match a body and connected as many bones together as possible. The sage-green eyeball on a metal bed pierced Wednesday’s soul. 

Thing placed himself on her hand, benevolently petting it. Wednesday broke her focus with the eye, giving her diligence to the hand. He nudged her to the bathroom. Wednesday made a keen effort to help her friend. 

Enid was on the floor beside the toilet, her back resting on the tub wall. She was in a fright—an enervated fright. "She was five Wends," she paused to breathe, the blonde on the verge of tears. "Five. Can you believe that?" Enid broke down in a fit of sobs. All Wednesday could do was rub her back. As the crying girl reiterated ‘five’.

"I know…"

[trashheappro]

The Anomaly - Ch. 15

Ch: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Miguel was used to pain. George O’Hara beat him, his brother, and their mother. Everyone in the house were victims, but Miguel got it worse. His father’s rage against him lasted longer, hits landed harder. He could only pray that by the time George was done with him, he would be too tired to move onto his brother or mother. At some point, bruises became a permanent affixation to his aesthetic. 

Maybe George could see what he could not. That Miguel wasn’t really an O’Hara. 

When his father died, it should have been all sunshine and rainbows. But there were more problems in their lives than just a man that liked to hit the people who were supposed to be his family. 

School was not the problem. He was a smart kid; kept his head down, kept his grades up. His future was secure. That should have been enough for his family, for his mother. Yet she looked at him like he was something else. She said he was selfish and maybe he was. He must have gotten it from her. He hooked up with his brother’s girlfriend because he just couldn’t help himself. But they were young and dumb and so in love that they even got engaged. Down the line, he apologized profusely to Gabriel and begged for his forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it, but Gabe gave it to him anyway. 

And Miguel ultimately ended it with Dana. After all the pain and strife his family put into that relationship, he couldn’t make it last. 

Miguel was selfish, but that wasn’t it. That wasn’t the only reason his mother looked at him with those eyes, like- like he was other . He was her mistake. He was a mistake. And that was why he could only ever make mistakes.  

Working at Alchemex was a mistake. It should have been the best company to work at, financial security was guaranteed. Certainly one of the most powerful, but that came with corruption running rampant throughout it. And thinking it wouldn’t affect him was another mistake. 

Talking with Tyler Stone was a mistake. Trusting Tyler Stone was a mistake. But what could he say? Miguel was accustomed to abuse at the hands of father figures even if he hadn’t been aware of it at the time.

Now he lived a life of his own self inflicted addiction to his Spider serum, needing regular doses to maintain his genetic structure. Splicing his DNA was rash, but it saved his life. But he wouldn’t have needed to if he had just been careful. It was a mistake. Another one to add to his books. 

Miguel thought that starting the Spider Society and uniting those across the great web could be the one thing he got right. A group there to fix the tears in space-time and help each other when they needed it. It should have been his shining achievement. But it was a mistake just like all the rest. 

If Miguel never started the Spider Society, none of this would have happened. Gwen’s father, Peter B’s MJ, Gabriella, all these universes, all those Spiders, none of it would be gone . Miles would have never known the truth. The universe would have adjusted, might have gone on to make Miles a true Spiderman even though everything that happened was an anomaly. 

There was a running theme here. Every time Miguel tried to make something better, he just made it worse

Mistakes. Mistakes on mistakes. Everything Miguel did was a mistake.

Miles was his mistake. It was in part, if not entirely, his fault that Miles had become more monster than boy. And he had to keep reminding him of that even when sometimes Miles was more boy than monster. Especially at times when–

“I’m so hungry,” Miles complained, holding his stomach while he rolled around on the couch of their newly instated safehouse in this universe they jumped to. 

They were in a seedier part of town where people knew better than to question the strange looking man in a weird white and black spotted costume. They didn’t have to know it was actually skin. 

The apartment matched the area. Dingy and kinda gross, but no one would bother them. All the furniture was stolen and rent was dirt cheap. These were the places that Miguel hated the most. It meant they didn’t intend to stay long, it wasn’t a permanent safehouse. Another universe Miles and the Spot intended to collapse. Another fight where he could do nothing to save anyone. 

Miguel had tried in the last one and Miles had not been joking when he said to put a muzzle on him. The new nanotech chip on the back of his neck replaced his suit and would become a cage muzzle, because a plain mask wasn’t humiliating enough. Stripped of any power and dignity, Miguel was left with his indignation. 

“What do you guys want to eat?” Miles asked.

“I’m good with anything,” the Spot said. 

“Miguel?”

Miguel just glared at him from the loveseat in the corner. His arm still recovering from the beating Miles gave him nearly a week ago, he was not in the mood to humor his playfulness. 

Miles rolled onto his stomach. “Come on, man. You’re not hungry?”

“Forgive me if I’ve lost my appetite,” he ground out. 

“Well, doubt you’ll have it later.” Miles shot to his feet. “Let’s go to the city. See what they have.”

“Have somewhere in mind?” the Spot asked. 

“You sure you don’t have a preference?”

The Spot shook his head. 

“Miguel?”

A low growl was his only response. 

That only seemed to amuse Miles even more. “Maybe, we get chinese? They probably have something easy for your stomach.”

“So Chinatown?”

“Yup. Ready, Miguel?”

He grunted, but still stood. 

“Don’t fall on your face this time,” Miles teased. 

“I never–”

A hole opened up underneath them and Miguel just barely stayed on his feet. Those little– “Seriously?”

Miles laced his fingers behind his head and walked down Canal street. “I thought that was a yes grunt, not a no grunt.” 

“This is why we’ve been telling you to use your words,” the Spot piled on. “But Mr. Grumpy only wants to talk to us through his teeth.”

Miguel reluctantly followed them. “Right, because it’s so unreasonable for me to be taciturn with my captors.”

Miles spun on his heels and grinned at the two of them. “And sarcasm, don’t forget the sarcasm.”

“You expect me to act any differently?”

“I think you're acting exactly as you should.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “You're exactly as irritating as I remember you being.”

That wiped the smug smirk off the brat’s face. “Careful, Miguel. Wouldn’t want to piss me off.”

“And here I thought I couldn’t piss you off anymore than I already do, Miles.”

“Alway room for growth.”

“We can bicker at the dinner table,” the Spot interjected. “Where are we eating?”

Miles fell into pace besides the Spot. “Do we have connection yet?”

“I set it up earlier,” he said, pulling out a phone from one of the many pockets of his cargo shorts. “Yeah, you should have internet access.”

Miles raised a gauntlet to search up ‘Chinatown soup’. “Ooo, soup dumplings.” He tapped on the address and a little map popped up. They walked down the main street, following Miles, who diligently followed the map until a warm sweet aroma wafted through the air. Immediately, he detoured off the path to a metal cart selling sweet bubble waffles. 

“We’re about to eat,” Miguel pointed out.

Miles fished cash out of his bag “And? We have enhanced metabolisms.”

“Not right now I don’t.” It had been a while since they gave him his serum dose. 

“One isn’t going to ruin your appetite.”

“I don’t want one.”

“Well now you’re definitely getting one.”

Miguel put his hands on his hips. “I don’t think reverse psychology is supposed to work in this situation.”

Miles gestured for 3 orders and handed the old man behind the window five dollars. “It’s not about that. It’s about whatever I want, and I want you to eat one.”

Miguel glared at the paper bag he was handed as if the sweet treats inside were his enemy. They smelled delicious and he felt the warmth penetrating through the thin bag. It was tempting. But call him paranoid, he couldn’t help but think this was some sort of mental manipulation. Or petty, because he really didn’t want to listen to Miles. 

As they continued on their way to the restaurant, Miles and the Spot snacked on their waffles. Miguel didn’t understand, the Spot had no mouth, yet tossed bubble after bubble into the void on his face. How did he even eat? Was that actually his mouth or like a portal to his stomach? Well, it wouldn’t be wise to have an open access to his stomach. 

“You going to eat that?” Miles asked.

“What? No.” Miguel tried handing it off.  

“I don’t want it.” Miles bounced back on his heels. 

He then tried handing it to the Spot. 

The Spot shook his head. “Gotta watch the waist line.”

Miguel returned to scowling at the innocent pastries. 

“Don’t waste it,” Miles said. “Your momma didn't raise no food waster.”

 “What do you know about my mother?” he scoffed. But he was right, she didn’t. He ate one. It was still a bit warm. It was soft and pillowy and just the right amount of sweetness. It was delicious.

“You’re going to ruin your appetite,Miguel,” Miles said, scandalized.

 Miguel rolled his eyes and kept eating. Regardless of the childish bait, his mother did not in fact raise a food waster. 

There was a scream up ahead. All heads turned in that direction. They were off the main street, which might explain why the man running towards them felt comfortable enough to snatch the purse of the woman chasing after him. 

Miguel instinctually stepped forward with the intent to stop him, but Miles was further in front. 

“Seriously?” Miles stuck out his foot and tripped the man, causing  him to fall flat on his face. “In broad daylight?” He sat on him as the woman jogged up to them. 

“Thank you,” she said, panting for air. 

Miles handed back her bag. “You're welcome. Wanna file a police report? We can wait with you.”

The woman’s brows creased with uncertainty, her hands coming up, probably about to say no until the man squirming underneath Miles decided to open his stupid mouth. 

“Come on. I didn’t even take anything!”

Then her face morphed into disgust and set in determination. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

“Bro!” The man started thrashing in earnest, trying to buck Miles off. “What are they feeding you?”

Miles grinned. “Spiders.”

Miguel grimaced at the bad taste in humor.

“Got something to say?”

Miguel crossed his arms. “Just call the cops, ma’am.”

The young lady seemed a bit put off by the use of the title but pulled out her phone regardless. She spoke quietly to the operator.

“Listen, kid. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Miles snapped. 

“Sorry, man! It was a lapse in judgment!” He pleaded. “It won’t happen again!”

Miles hummed. “Sure it won’t.”

“I’m serious! My family needs the money!”

“I bet. But you were just begging to be caught.”

“No! I was desperate!”

“Stupid more like. In broad daylight, in a relatively busy area, running straight at three dudes.” Miles was right, especially when there was potentially a Spiderman swinging around. 

A pair of cops turned the corner. How uncharacteristically quick of them. Well, like Miles said, the man wasn’t really thinking; broad daylight and only down the street from a busy intersection. The thief tossed and thrashed about trying to dislodge Miles, but it was a futile attempt. Miguel could relate. “Fuck off, kid!” Oh, that was a mis–

Miles slammed the man's head into the concrete. 

Miguel could relate to that too. He turned away to watch the woman approach the officers. She spoke with them as they came closer. 

“Miguel,” Miles said, getting up from the cursing thief, who was swiftly placed in handcuffs. “Finish your snack.”

 Miguel looked down at the slightly cooled waffle pieces and frowned. It surely wouldn’t be as good now. Still, he ate without complaint. The Spot stared at him unabashedly. “What?” he asked. 

The Spot shrugged. “Nothing.”

Miguel hated this, hated feeling stuck between them. Miles was manic and volatile. The Spot was awkward and enigmatic. He first thought the Spot would be the heinous one, egging Miles on and whispering dark things in his ear. But it was the opposite. The Spot was the practical one, telling Miles when to take a break or if a plan was too reckless. Sometimes he would just sit there and… watch… silently. It was weird and off putting and Miguel never knew what to think of the villain. And Miles… Miles was a different beast altogether. 

Miguel tried to escape multiple times. Clearly, none of them successful, but every time Miles dished out a cruel form of punishment for trying.  The beatings were the easiest to take. He fought back, he always did, but perhaps they were taking their toll on him mentally, more than he anticipated. He fought back, but it felt almost like an obligation rather than real effort. Escape felt so out of reach. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

Sometimes Miles was crueler. Sometimes he would bring a civilian inches from death and make them beg Miguel for their lives. Other times he would jump to a new universe and bring New York to its knees. He has not yet brought them to another Nueva York. He might be waiting for just the right reason to punish Miguel like that again… 

And then there was the odd punishment of simply seeing Miles. Punishment was perhaps not the right word, but it felt like it. Seeing Miles just be… a kid, seeing the kid Miles could have been– should have been, felt… He should have been a boy rather than a monster, but he wasn’t, and that was in large part Miguel’s fault. And that felt bad . 

It felt wrong. Miguel spent his life fighting monsters. He did his best to protect everyone from them. And yet– What he is now is all you, Miguel .

Miguel sucked his teeth in frustration. 

Miles quirked a brow in his direction. “What’s got your pants in a grump?”

Miguel looked at him incredulously. “Pants in a grump?"

“Grumpy pants, but different.”

“What?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t get it.” He whipped around. “Hey, lady! You good?”

“Yes! Thank you so much” She smiled at him and nodded towards Miguel and the Spot. 

“Sure,” Miles couldn’t help but return the awkward smile. 

More boy than monster. Miles had been a good kid just trying his best. He was left with a great responsibility on his shoulders. He hadn’t been perfect, a little awkward (but not like Miguel could talk), but he was good. He stood with her as the police took her statement. He gave a reassuring thumbs up whenever she would look his way. 

Miguel huffed a small chuckle. “Still that friendly neighborhood Spiderman,” he murmured. 

The Spot’s head snapped to look at him, followed by an incredulous scoff. 

Miles stilled and pinned him with a stare. “Wanna repeat that?”

Shit.

Miles could taste the anxiety rolling off him. “I know it was posed as a question, but that wasn’t a request.”

He licked his lips as his mouth suddenly became dry. “Miles.”

“Miguel.”

“I didn’t mean–”

“No. Go on.”

“I don’t think that’s–”

“You're stalling.”

“I’m not,” he hissed. “I just thought–” He sucked in breath. “For as much as you call yourself a villain, you still have that spark of Spiderman.”

Miles tilted his head. “I never was though, right, Miguel?”

“Miles.” He should have never worded it like that, but he had let his anger and frustration get the better of him. But realizing that now, would not change the course either of them were on. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“But it’s how I want it to be.”  

“Miles,” he growled.

Miles turned back to the woman. “You’re done here, right? You should leave.”

“O-oh.” She looked between them nervously. “Alright.” She asked the officers if she was done giving her statement and once she got the nod of confirmation she thanked them before scurrying out onto the main road. 

“Do you need to take our statements too, officers?” Miles asked.

“Miles, don’t,” Miguel hissed. 

The officers approached them.

“Miles! I’m serious.”

“So am I. Don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

“Miles–”

“Correct!”

The officers were blind to Miles' intentions. They see the good natured teen that helped a woman get her purse back from a runaway thief. They do not see the potential he has. They do not see the violence that pumped through his heart. The foolish sheep walked into the maw of the beast. 

Miles' claws activated. They were slow. Basically civilians with a smidge more authority. The first one died in a blink, the head rolling off his shoulders before the other could register what was happening. 

Miguel’s foot was only able to shift its weight before–

“Kneel,” Miles commanded. 

The cuffs dragged Miguel to the ground. 

The officer pulled his firearm and fired. 

Miles dodged the first bullet. The second landed uselessly in his claws. As did the third. And fourth. And fifth. And the rest of them until the officer’s gun was empty and his trembling hand attempted to reload it.

“Call for backup,” Miles offered. 

The man fumbled with his radio. 

“Miles,” Miguel’s voice strained. “I misspoke! You don’t have to do this!”

“No, you didn’t.” Miles waited until the man was halfway through his first sentence on the radio before extending the red holo of his claws to drag the feeble man over to him. The man screamed. 

“Miles!”

“Do you know why we’re here, Miguel?” The man scrabbled uselessly at the ground, trying to delay his death, even if only by a few seconds. “Do you know what universe this is?” He didn’t even wait for Miguel to answer. “This is Earth-18119.”

Miguel’s eyes widened. Spinneret’s universe. 

“What better way to draw out Spiders than to shake their web?” 

Only when the officer finally screamed his voice hoarse, did Miles kill him with a swift strike to the chest. Miguel stared despondent at the two corpses that littered the area that moments before had Miles stopping a thief and comforting the victim. 

“Everyone of your little Spider soldiers are right here.” Miles lifted his left gauntlet, the red screen screaming back at Miguel. The profiles of Spiderman, Spinneret, and Spiderling clear under the word ‘target’. “ Your incessant stalking and need for control really backfired on you, huh?”

Miguel’s heart hammered in his chest. “Miles, you’ve made your point. Please!”

“There’s no point to be made.” Miles turned to him, blood splattered across his cheek. “If anything, I’ve finally seen things your way.”

“This is not what–”

“Spiderman is suffering.”

“Spiderman is sacrifice!”

“Then may their sacrifice bring you great suffering.”

“Miles!” Miguel pleaded. “I’m sorry! You were right! I should have tried! I should have let you try!”

Miles chuckled. It left a small smile behind that grew the more Miguel struggled against his binds. The sounds of thwips overhead were the opening curtains to The Anomaly’s show. The mask engulfed his face. “We love the introspection, but you’re not sorry. Not really. But don’t worry, you will be.”

[chocolatequeennk]

Forever Timeless, 14/23

Summary: Two months after the Dalek Crucible, the Doctor and Rose are getting used to having the biggest family on Earth. As they visit Leadworth in 1996, Victorian England, a mysterious desert planet, and Elizabethan England, those family and friends often help in unexpected ways. But no matter where they go or who they’re with, it’s always the Doctor in the TARDIS with Rose Tyler–just as it should be.

Ten x Rose, Donna x Lee

Betaed by @rudennotgingr, @pellaaearien, and @jabber-who-key

Tagging @doctorroseprompts 

Part 7 of Being to Timelessness

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13

Chapter 14: The More Things Change...

“I think you’ll like where we’ve landed,” the Doctor said as he swung his coat around and put it on. 

Rose smiled and took his hand. “Where are we? A dazzling alien city? Or maybe Earth in the far distant future?”

The Doctor squeezed her hand as they walked out of the TARDIS and closed the door. “It’s someplace you wanted to see once, but…” He gestured at the planet, then watched Rose. 

She turned slowly, and he could feel her trying to place it. “We’ve been here before,” she murmured. 

“It was raining,” he said, giving her a hint.

Rose swung around and stared at him, her eyes wide. “Pluvon?”

The Doctor nodded. “Do you remember why you wanted to see Pluvon?”

Rose shook her head. “Was that my idea? I guess I sort of remember that, but everything else kinda wiped the details from my mind.”

The Doctor flinched and tightened his hold on Rose’s hand for a moment. The memory of that “everything else” wasn’t one of his favourites—Pluvon had been the catalyst for possibly their worst fight ever, and certainly the worst since they’d bonded.

Despite himself, the Doctor felt his mood slip from contemplative to pensive as they crossed the bridge to enter the city. Rose was equally quiet, but he could tell her thoughts weren’t quite as melancholy as his.

“I think we needed that fight,” Rose said quietly as they strolled down a broad boulevard. 

The Doctor stopped and stared down at her. “What? Why?”

“We were playing it so safe, do you remember?” 

He nodded. 

“If we hadn’t been here for a monsoon… I don’t think I would have told you about how he taunted me. It just would have been there between us, like your fear of losing me, waiting to explode in our faces. We needed that fight,” she repeated. 

The Doctor shoved his hands into his coat pockets as he tried to find the flaw in Rose’s logic. Being here, he could fully remember his fear when he watched Rose dive into the raging river. The idea that they’d needed to be here…

But then… He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the TARDIS. He had very specifically set the coordinates for a sunny day. The TARDIS had steered them off course, which meant…

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, then smiled at Rose. “Here we are, finally,” he said,  pointing at the imposing building ahead of them. 

Rose tilted her head back to look at it, then studied the elegant stone sign. “Oh! The art museum!” she exclaimed. 

“The Brindisi Gallery, as requested,” he confirmed. 

Rose’s wide smile was all the thanks he needed, and he laughed and followed her into the museum. 

Rose was enchanted by all the different kinds of art the museum had. There was a whole room devoted to water art, where coloured water was artfully arranged into pictures. The pictures were so ephemeral, moving and changing as the water flowed, but the artists always managed to create new magic after one painting disappeared. 

They wandered together through a gallery of installation art, walking in between the displays. She loved seeing the artwork from different angles, watching the meaning change as you studied an individual piece, as a set, or stepping back to view the whole.

It was the room of empathic art that sparked a question in Rose. She watched the painting in front of her redraw as it sensed what she was feeling. The bluish green hues of the painting echoed her curiosity, and the mauve streaks mirrored her hesitation.

“What is it, Rose?” 

She bit her lip, then asked without looking away from the stunning artwork. “Was there a special kind of art on Gallifrey?” 

The Doctor sucked in a breath. Rose’s contemplation had been obvious to him, but he hadn’t realised the direction her thoughts had taken her. But of course she’d wonder about Gallifreyan artwork, when surrounded by gallery after gallery of art from other planets.

“Yes.” 

He wanted to tell her, but it was always hard for him to start stories about Gallifrey.

Rose held his hand and led him to a nearby bench. “Tell me about it,” she requested softly.

The Doctor leaned back against the bench and wrapped his arm around Rose’s shoulders. “Well, remember—we were called Time Lords.”

He felt Rose consider the words, and then the spark of realisation. “Did you use time to make art somehow? But how?” 

He nodded. “Time Lord art—it was a slice of real time, a moment preserved in a three dimensional painting. It looked real enough to walk into.” He tilted his head, pondering for a moment. “Come to think of it, I don’t actually know that it wasn’t possible.” 

He abandoned that line of thinking to answer her second question. “They were made using something called a stasis cube—just a little box that you would use to telepathically capture that moment in time.”

“Makes sense,” Rose said. “You’re holding a moment in stasis, so calling it a stasis cube…” 

“Yeah.” 

The Doctor tried to remember the last time he’d seen a work of art rendered by a stasis cube so he could describe it for Rose, but the memory was hazy. The harder he tried to latch onto it, the more determined it was to slip away. 

Unaware of his struggle, Rose sighed and then stood up. “Come on then, Doctor. We’ve had a day at the museum. I think it’s time we visited the little shop.” 

“And maybe had chips for dinner,” he said knowingly. 

Rose shrugged. “I might have noticed there was a cafe selling chips down in the lobby, yeah. We’ve been here a while, surely it’s time to have a meal.” 

He laughed and stood up. “I suppose I can allow it, since your birthday is tomorrow.”

Rose blinked. “My birthday?” she parroted. 

It was the second time that day that he’d managed to surprise her, and he patted himself on the back. “How do you always lose track of your birthday, but manage to remember mine?”

They started down the broad marble staircase and reached the first landing before Rose spoke. “Birthdays… I never really cared about my birthday when I was a kid. It was just another day.” 

The Doctor waited, casting a sidelong glance at Rose when she paused. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and she swallowed before continuing.

“Mum tried to make it special, but she was always working or tired from working. And we didn’t have money for big parties or lots of presents, like I saw some of my schoolmates get.” 

The Doctor squeezed her hand when she paused this time. “Birthdays were a reminder of what you didn’t have.”

Rose nodded, then shook her head to dispel the melancholy memories. The Doctor had fallen quiet, and she leaned into him as they walked past the information booth in the gallery’s atrium.

“So I love that you always make a big deal of it, even if it always catches me by surprise. I never had that feeling before, the ‘oh, it’s my birthday so let’s do…’ like everyone else.” 

The Doctor tugged on his ear, his neck turning pink. Rose chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Truly, Doctor. I love it.” 

He hummed happily. “Well I love making a big deal of it, so that works out well for both of us.” He glanced at the little shop as they walked past it, but didn’t suggest stopping. “I thought you might want to visit your mum tomorrow.” 

 Rose brightened as they entered the cafe and got in line. “Definitely. I haven’t spent my birthday with her in years.” 

They ordered their food at the counter, then Rose found a seat while the Doctor waited for their baskets of the Pluvon version of fish and chips. The polished wood of the table reflected back the bright lights as she sent her mum a text. 

Jackie’s answer was quick in coming, which wasn’t a surprise. The answer itself was though, and Rose was still staring at her phone when the Doctor joined her. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She blinked and looked up at him. “Nothing. It’s just… she’s planning a party.” 

She couldn’t put into words why that left her unsettled, but the Doctor nodded. “Her life has changed just as much as yours. She probably wanted to have a party for you when you were a kid, and now she can.” 

Rose sprinkled vinegar on her food and started eating. “I guess,” she said. “Anyway, it’s only March there, which is why she hadn’t told us yet.” 

“Still keeping two timelines going,” the Doctor observed. “We haven’t synced with the Cardiff group yet.” 

Rose shook her head. “So when we jump ahead to my party tomorrow, it’ll be the first time we’ve been on the same day.” 

She turned the words over in her mind. There was something in them, something they’d talked about before…

The Doctor stared at Rose when she dropped a chip uneaten onto her plate. “Rose? What’s wrong? I know the chips are a little different, but—”

She took a deep breath and looked at him. “Timelines. We have to do time differently, now that we have human passengers.” 

“What do you mean, do time differently?”

“Do you remember our plan before? Back before Canary Wharf, we talked and decided that we’d let longer go between visits on our end than on Mum’s, so I could stretch out the years we had together.” 

The Doctor nodded. He remembered, and he’d been planning to do the same thing.

“We can’t,” she said, without him saying it out loud. “Not when we have human companions all the time.” 

“What do you…” He stopped and stared up at the ceiling. “Oh, I see. Their families would actually lose time with them, wouldn’t they?”

Rose nodded. “It wouldn’t be fair to Wilf, or for Martha’s family. We’ll have to take the slow path, even if we can travel through all of time and space.” 

For the second time that day, the Doctor’s mind worked furiously as he tried to find a way around Rose’s logic. She would lose Jackie eventually, but he was determined to give them as much time as possible. 

“Oh! But that’s only when we have humans on board!” he said finally. “I agree that if we’ve got Donna and Lee or Mickey and Martha with us, we’ll have to try to drop them off so approximately the same amount of time has passed on Earth as it did for us. But if it’s just the two of us, or maybe the two of us and Jenny, we can jump around all we want.” 

He leaned forward and looked Rose in the eye. “We can still give you decades or even centuries with Jackie, Rose. I promise.” 

She stared at him for a moment, then she picked up the chip and ate it with relish. 

oOoOo

Jackie was already running out of the house when Rose opened the TARDIS doors. “Oh, you two!” she hollered. “Six weeks without a word! You complained about Jenny. How do you think we felt?” 

Rose sighed. She should have known this would be the trade-off to syncing their timeline to her mum’s. “Come on, let’s go inside. We can tell you everything we’ve been up to.” Her mum huffed, but let go of her and led the way back into the house. 

They’d barely gotten through the front door before Jackie turned and held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear about any adventures you’ve been having on the planet Martoc,” she said harshly. “I heard all about that one planet you went to, where Jenny had to come rescue you. That’s enough adventures for me, ta.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Where in the bloody hell have you been? I haven’t heard from you for weeks!” 

“Mum, just leave it all right?” Rose said. “It’s my birthday. I promise, I’ll explain it all to you. Just later.” 

Rose saw the mutinous look in her mother’s eye and braced herself, but Pete stepped into the entryway and rested his hand on Jackie’s shoulder. “Come on, Jacks. You’ve been planning this party for weeks. Let’s enjoy it.” 

Some of the tension left Jackie’s body, and she nodded. 

Jenny met them as they entered the living room. “Hi Dad, hi Mum!” she said, giving them each a hug. “I figured you’d be right on time for this.” 

Behind them, Jackie hmphed, but Rose ignored it. It’s just going to be one of those days, she thought, letting out a sigh. 

A miniature blond cyclone whirled into them next. “Rose, Rose! Look at what I got!” 

Rose bent down to peer at the toy dinosaur Tony held up. “Oh wow, Tony! Is that a triceratops?” she asked, purposely getting it wrong.

“Nooooo! It’s a stegosaurus!” He shook his head at Rose. “Triceratops have three horns, Rosie.”

Rose managed not to smile. “Oh, that’s right. We need to have you with us the next time we see dinosaurs. It’ll take a real expert to tell them all apart.” 

“And maybe he’ll come back for his tenth birthday?” Jackie muttered.

Rose winced; she’d opened herself up for that one. 

“I’ll have you know I can tell apart all the dinosaurs,” the Doctor said. 

“Are you jealous of a four-year-old, Spaceman?” 

Rose looked past the people crowding in the middle of the room and smiled at Donna. “He always has to be best at everything,” she confided. 

Donna rolled her eyes. “That sounds like him. Come on, the table is set and I think the cook is ready to serve dinner.” 

Rose stopped at the entry to the dining room and counted the chairs. “Who’s not coming?” she asked, when she only counted ten chairs along with one child’s seat. 

Pete helped Tony into his chair and pushed it in. “Mickey and Martha were called away on a mission for UNIT this morning,” he told her. “They said to apologise for them, and promise they’ll get in touch with you as soon as they can.” 

The Doctor was fairly certain that Rose was too far into the room to hear Jackie’s next comment, but he picked it up. 

“Too bad they didn’t have their own fancy time travelling dealie, so they could just pop back and join us.”

He and Pete exchanged a glance, and the Doctor shook his head. Rose was still intent on ignoring Jackie, and he wouldn’t ruin her birthday party for her. 

But I might have to talk to Jackie later…

By the end of dinner, Rose was barely holding onto her temper. Her mum’s comments had been relentless, and it didn’t matter how much everyone else tried to redirect the conversation—she always managed to find a way to bring it up again.

She took a deep breath and carefully set her knife down on her mostly empty plate. Then she turned to Pete. “So Pete, Jenny told us last week that you had a bit of an adventure recently with the Rift.”

“Oh, at least someone is capable of making regular calls to their parents,” Jackie interjected. “Mind, I suppose I should be glad it wasn’t a year this time.” 

“Mum, would you give it a rest!” Rose finally burst out. She saw the nanny sneak in and take Tony out of the room, and she flushed for a moment, thinking about what he might have heard if he’d stayed. 

“I will not!” Jackie exclaimed. “First Pete and Jenny come home and say they had to rescue you off some planet or something because you managed to get stranded without the TARDIS. And where are your rescue buttons, I’d like to know. You texted me a few weeks later to ask if you could visit for your birthday, and that’s the last I heard from you!”

Rose took a deep breath and tried to take hold of her temper. “That was just yesterday for us,” she said, her voice tight. “We’ve been running a bit ahead, and I wanted to spend my birthday with you—my actual birthday, in our timeline.” 

Jackie sniffed, looking slightly mollified. “I wish I understood all your zooming around through time and space,” she muttered. “But I’m happy you wanted to spend your birthday with us.”

Then her jaw set, and she wagged her finger at Rose and the Doctor. “Now, I want the two of you to listen to me. I understand why you skipped time this time, but in the future, I expect you to keep yourselves linear to Cardiff time. I don’t want to wonder what kind of nonsense you’re getting yourselves into.”

Rose pushed back from the table and stood up. “You are never gonna get it, are you? We do go zooming around through time and space. That’s our life—it’s my life now, and it has been for eight years. I won’t tie myself to any one timeline just because it makes you feel better!”

She spun around and stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind her as she left. The TARDIS hummed in welcome, and Rose went home without a second thought.

Jack, Donna, and Lee all exchanged glances, then pushed back from the table and left the dining room.

The Doctor leaned on the table and stared at his mother-in-law. “Was there a reason you thought you had to ruin Rose’s birthday?” 

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t ruin it,” she countered. “It was already ruined before you got here. How come you can’t stay in our timeline?”

The Doctor hesitated; on one hand, this was mostly Rose’s story to share. On the other, he knew she’d already told Jackie once, so this was really just reminding her of what she’d forgotten in the last five years of her life. 

Oh, and isn’t it ironic that the amount of time she was in Pete’s World wasn’t equal to the amount of time that passed here?

But Jackie wasn’t done. “You can’t understand what it’s like, Doctor—watching your only kid slip into her own world, literally a different world with different time.” Jackie sniffed. “I just want some part of Rose to hold onto.”

The Doctor sighed and set his cup down. “Jackie, Rose hasn’t slipped away. She is doing everything she can to keep this part of her life with you going. But you have to be willing to make some allowances for the changes in her own life.”

Jackie scowled. “Changes like flying around through time and space, you mean,” she said, her voice flat.

The Doctor pressed his lips together and counted to ten. When he thought he could talk without snapping at her, he tried explaining, one more time. 

“Do you remember what Rose told you, before Canary Wharf?”

Jackie’s forehead furrowed as she tried to remember. Finally, she shook her head. “That was a long time ago.” 

“Rose…” The Doctor took a deep breath, then pushed it all out in one long sentence, so she wouldn’t be able to argue. “Rose’s lifespan is a lot longer than a human’s. She’s going to outlive you by several years—far more than people normally do—so she wants to stretch out her time with you as much as possible so it doesn’t happen so quickly for her.” 

He waited for Jackie’s response. She was quiet for so long that he felt like he was in some kind of alternate reality. He hadn’t known it was possible for Jackie Tyler to be quiet for this long.

“Do you mean…” Her voice was sad and quiet. “You mean she’s gonna live for decades after I’m gone?”

The Doctor nodded. “I’ve lost people I love, and it hurts, Jackie. It hurts to outlive the most important people in your life. I can’t protect Rose from that completely, but I would like to be able to at least give her a little bit longer with you.” He stared into her eyes. “If you’ll let me.” 

Jackie’s jaw trembled and she wiped a tear from her eye. “Yeah. Yeah… I’ll talk to her tomorrow, tell her I understand.”

The Doctor looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the TARDIS. “I’ll let her know you want to apologise,” he said. Pete shook his head behind Jackie, and the Doctor held back the second part of his thought—he couldn’t promise Rose would be willing to listen.

“I think I’d better go back to the TARDIS now. I’ll let you know what our plans are for breakfast.” 

Rose’s anger had been simmering hotter and hotter as dinner went on, but the wave of fury the Doctor got when he pushed open the TARDIS door still took him by surprise. He sucked in a breath, then resolutely set out to find her.

He found Rose in her studio, mixing paints together aggressively. “You didn’t need to do that,” she said.

The Doctor watched her warily. “Would you rather I hadn’t?” 

The thought honestly hadn’t occurred to him. He’d wanted Jackie to understand, for his own sake as much as for Rose’s. Well, almost as much. Well, at least partly for his own sake.

Rose looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Really, for your own sake?” she said sarcastically.

The Doctor shrugged. “Well, it is annoying listening to her complain about my driving all the time. And it would be nice if she just… understood.”

Rose snorted and folded some pink into the colour she was creating. “Never gonna happen, Doctor,” she said. “You have to want to understand first.” 

She glared up at him. “And I don’t need you to explain me to my own mother.”  

The Doctor blinked; he had never thought of it like that. “Rose…” 

“I don’t need you to protect me, either, or try to make everything better for me. I can take care of myself.” 

The Doctor felt like he’d traveled back in time to the aftermath of their first visit to Pluvon, and Rose’s fears about being seen as weak. 

“I know you can,” he said, keeping his voice even. “And if you had still been in the room, I would have let you keep leading the conversation. But you left—I don’t blame you at all, for the record—and she sat there making ridiculous demands and lobbing accusations at us. You know as well as I do that if I’d just let her keep going, she would have been even more irrational in the morning.” 

Rose rubbed her hands over her face, getting a streak of forest green on her nose. “I know,” she mumbled. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

The Doctor relaxed slightly when her anger faded to frustration. Taking a chance, he smiled at her and pointed to his nose. “You’ve got something just there,” he teased.

Rose finally smiled. “Occupational hazard,” she said as she reached for a towel. 

She wiped at her face and looked at him, and he shook his head. “I think you’re going to need a mirror to get it all,” he told her. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll get some treats together for us?” 

Rose nodded and put her towel down, then tilted her head. “What are we doing for the rest of the evening?” 

He stepped back from the door to let her by. “You decide, and I’ll trust the TARDIS to take me where I need to be.” 

The lights in the corridor flashed, and Rose patted the wall. Thanks, Dear.

When she saw her reflection in the mirror, she started laughing. The small smear of paint she’d felt earlier had only been spread around when she’d tried to wipe it off. Instead of just being a daub on her nose, now it was brushed up her cheekbone like blush.

How did you keep from laughing when you saw this? she asked the Doctor as she carefully wiped it off her face. 

It took all the restraint I’ve learned in my long life.

Rose mentally stuck her tongue out at him, and the laughter that came back over the bond swept away the last of her poor mood. Her mother was who she was, and that would probably never change. 

But with the Doctor’s presence warm in her mind, she remembered something else that wouldn’t change—how much she loved him. 

“A much better thing to focus on,” she murmured as she finished cleaning up. 

oOoOo

The next morning, Rose almost stayed in the TARDIS for breakfast, but she refused to hide from her own mother. “Let me go over first,” she requested when the Doctor started getting ready along with her. “I want to clear some things up, just the two of us.” 

He nodded, and the obvious faith in her ability gave her a little bit more confidence as she walked across the garden to the kitchen door. 

She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should knock or just go in. Before she could make up her mind, the door opened for her. 

“Morning, sweetheart.” 

Rose studied her mum for a moment. Pink dressing gown, slippers, her hair pulled back in a messy bun… The clothes might have been nicer than anything they’d had on the Estate, but otherwise it was an image straight from her childhood. Nothing changes, she thought, feeling a hint of amusement at the thought today.

“Morning, Mum,” she said. 

“Did the Doctor talk to you last night?” 

Rose blinked. He hadn’t needed to tell her the gist of their conversation, because his intent—to explain, to smooth things over—had been evident over the bond. 

Maybe I should have asked what they actually talked about.

“No.” Rose didn’t add that she’d been too upset to listen to any of the details. 

“Oh.” Jackie picked at her cuticles. “Well… He told us that you’re gonna outlive all of us by a long time.” 

Rose raised an eyebrow. “I told you that years ago,” she reminded her mother. 

“I forgot, or didn’t really understand, I guess. It’s been a long time since Canary Wharf, Rose.” 

Rose doubted she would have remembered the conversation the next day. As she’d pointed out to the Doctor the night before, you have to want to understand in order to be able to grasp concepts. The same was true with remembering them. 

Still, this was the most conciliatory her mother had ever appeared, and she didn’t want to ruin it. “I guess.” 

“So, I guess the time travelling thing is a good thing, sort of. If it means you—I—” Jackie shrugged helplessly. 

“I thought so,” Rose said noncommittally. “But you wanted us to promise that we’d keep our timeline synced with yours, I thought.” 

“That was before I understood.”

Rose still felt like there were things her mother refused to grasp about her life. Yes, the “time travelling thing” did have some side benefits, like getting to stretch out the amount of time she had left with her human family and friends. But it was also an integral part of her life. She wasn’t the Rose Jackie remembered, and she didn’t live the life they’d shared. 

For a moment, she considered pushing the issue. There was so much more than just little benefits to traveling in time. But again, she caught the uncertainty on Jackie’s face and realised this truly was the most contrite she’d ever been. 

“Thanks, Mum. I promise, we’ll stay in touch as much as possible. This time it just wasn’t, since we had to skip those weeks in your timeline in order to get us synced up.” 

Jackie smiled. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Rose hugged her, then moved over to the counter and filled the kettle. “Now come on, fill me in on everything I’ve missed.” 

oOoOo

After breakfast and one final promise to pick Jenny up in two weeks when her internship ended, the Doctor and Rose walked hand in hand back to the TARDIS. The Doctor tossed his coat over a strut, then spun around the console, adjusting controls in rapid succession. 

“Where are we off to, then?” Rose asked. 

He looked at her across the console, his nearly giddy grin stretching across his face. “That, Rose Tyler, is a surprise. But I think you should go change while I get us to our destination.” 

Rose raised an eyebrow, but she nodded and walked down the corridor to their room. As expected, there was an outfit lying out on the bed for her. She put on the shorts and t-shirt, then grabbed a lightweight jacket before returning to the console room. 

“Well?” She held her arms out and twirled in a circle. “Am I ready for your secret adventure?” 

“Absolutely.” He grabbed his coat, then jogged up the ramp and waited at the door.

The Doctor’s quiet anticipation echoed over the bond and quickened Rose’s steps. He smiled down at her when she reached him, then pushed the door open.

Rose squinted into the night, trying to place where they were. The fresh tang of salt wafted into the TARDIS on a warm breeze. She’d just started going over a list of all the beaches they’d been to when she noticed the sand, sparkling and glowing in the moonlight.

“Welcome back to Ekbrilon, love.” The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and spread his coat out like a blanket. 

Rose shook her head in wonder and sat down with him. “This is perfect,” she whispered. The quiet, the solitude… The peacefulness was exactly what she needed after the last sixteen hours. The soft light spilling out of the console room added to the shimmer in the air.

The Doctor hummed and wrapped an arm around her waist, encouraging her to lean back into him. “And this is an untouched stretch of beach,” he told her. “No tourists, no marine biologists, no fishermen. Just you and me.” 

He shifted slightly, then held something out in front of her. “I haven’t gotten to give you your gift yet.” 

Rose took the gift, then turned to look at him. “You didn’t need to give me anything,” she protested. “I thought the trip back to Pluvon was my gift.” 

The Doctor scoffed, rolling his eyes and gently poking her in the ribs. “I believe we established earlier this week that I enjoy making a big deal out of your birthday. So go on, open it!” 

Rose slid her finger under the seam of the paper and carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing a wooden box. Something about it tickled her memory, and she waited for it to surface.

“You gave me a box like this before,” she said, trying to put her finger on it. “Or…” The answer came to her. “First I saw it in your coat pocket, and then later you gave it to me.” 

The box was a little larger than the box that had held her wedding ring, but it was unmistakably of the same design.

“And as I believe I asked you that time, are you going to actually open it?”

Rose tapped her finger against her chin. “I dunno. It’s an awfully nice box. Maybe that’s the gift.”

He rolled his eyes, and just like last time, he took the box from her and opened it himself. Rose’s smirk disappeared when he carefully pulled out a small work of stained glass.

She took it from him and held it up in the faint light. “Is that…” She touched the centre of the pane gently, unable to say anything else.

The Doctor’s finger joined hers, tracing over the figure of the artist standing in front of an easel. “It reminded me of you.” After another moment of silence, he added, “I thought you could hang it in the library, where the firelight would shine through it.” 

Rose picked up the box and carefully placed the glass ornament inside. Then she moved closer to the Doctor, wrapping her arms tight around him. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears. After the debacle with her mother, it was such a relief to be with someone who knew her so well.

The Doctor sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. No matter what, I will always know you and love you.

[katedisonsmoved]

tyler

your fave is problematic: tyler stone.

-A LYING BITCH-known people pleaser-wild friday night consists of skyping with his mom-lives up gabrielle lennox’s ass-too soft 4 his own good-watches gossip girl

[letterstoseven]

Killer Queen [Ch. 2]

✏︎ pairing: klaus mikaelson x reader, elijah mikaelson x reader, kol mikaelson x reader

✏︎ summary: y/n Silvius –– daughter of the Alpha of the most respected and powerful pack of the first were-witches (werewolf + witch). She needs to find the remaining Crescent Wolf Pack members as the Elders are planning to reunite the seven packs, namely: Crescent Wolf Pack, Northern Wolves Pack, Moon Shine Pack, River Pack, Lycan Blood Pack, Midnight Stone Pack and the Malraux Pack. On her journey, she met the family whom the witches and werewolves warned her about, The Mikaelson Family.

✏︎ a/n: this is sooooo long but this is when y/n talks about her departure to their hometown and her arrival in New Orleans! thank you so much for taking your time to read chapter 1! here's the chapter 2 :)

✏︎ Chapters: one, two, three, four, five

After the meeting with the Elders, you and your family went back to your own homes. "I'm going to pack and then take a sleep. Good night, Mom. Good night, Dad." You hugged them both tightly. "Dear [y/n], come here. Your dad and I would like to talk to you before you start your journey in finding one of the Crescent Wolf Pack members."

You walked towards your fireplace and sat on the floor in front of them, "What's up?" Your dad, Adoff Silvius, sat near you and told you something about New Orleans, while your mom, Leah Silvius, got the book of the Ancient History of the Wolves.

"Back when I was on my way looking for the Moonstone, I befriended some of the folks in New Orleans. His name is Alaric Saltzman, a history professor. Of course, he never knew me. The people in Mystic Falls thought that the wolves are not real. However, when one of the Lockwoods, Tyler, I think, activated his curse by killing a person, one of them saw it and that's when they know that legends are real. Eventually, I was able to lure the young Lockwood and got the Moonstone before Aiden's dad." He smiled at you. However, that smile faltered when he started talking about New Orleans.

"Okay, Dad. Now, what does your story have to do with my journey to find the Crescent Wolf Packs?" You looked at them both. Your mom, opened the book of the Ancient Wolf Pack, and said, "You, my dear, will be the one who's going to unite the packs. One of my friends in the New Orleans, Vincent, has told me that it would be best if you try to not do any magic and even use your wolf side. The guy running the town, Marcel Gerard, is known for killing the wolves and the witches if they did not abide by his rules." You are saddened by this fact. You know that it's hard for the witches and werewolves to leave their territory as it is where their powers reside. "You have to find the brother of the Hybrid, Elijah Mikaelson. One of the Original Vampires. He can help you. My guy, Vincent, has told me that he can be reasoned out to." You are now starting to get curious about these Originals, the Mikaelsons.

"Back in the day, the wolves are powerful because they are united. The seven packs and us, being the leader of the seven packs, was able to maintain peace between packs. While the Crescent Wolf Packs needed to kill someone to activate their wolf side. While us, coming from the Sanguine Pack, the curse chooses us if we are deemed worthy. That's why there are some members of the family of the Sanguine Pack that until now, at their 30s, 40s and 50s, still not able to activate their werewolf side." Your dad explained that the reason why some of the packs left is because of a misunderstanding. Some packs thought that they don’t need the help of the other pack. Now, your mom is the one who's going to tell you about the situation in the New Orleans.

"If they are the Original Vampires, aren't I walking in a sacred place and might as well get killed in the process?!" You are in distress. All these ancient history talks are now spiraling in your head. "The Mikaelsons, as the Elders would tell us, are the dangerous, and well dysfunctional family in the world. Legend says that they will do anything for their family even if it means killing or sacrificing their loved ones." Now you are scared. "However, they are the only chance you have to find one of the Crescent Wolf Pack members as his brother is a Hybrid. The hybrid's name is Niklaus Mikaelson. He's got a witch sister too, Freya Mikaelson."

You thought to yourself, Thank God at least there's a witch in the family.

"Now, dear. Your father and I loves you so much. As much as we wanted to help you, this is part of the process. We believe in you. Our daughter, our heir. You are the most powerful were-witch of your generation. And in no doubt, you will be the first female Alpha of the pack." Your parents hugged and kissed you. Well, being an only child has its pros sometimes. You said your good night to them.

You started packing your grimoires, your weapons, a weapon that is made from the ancient white oak stake - legend says that this ancient white oak stake is the best wood to kill or to protect yourself from. That's why ever since you started learning how to create a weapon, you used them to create one.

The next day, you and Aiden trained in combat and learned protection spells as the next day, both of you will start your journey to become an Alpha. "How are you doing, [Y/N]?" He sat beside you. "You know, Aiden, when we were young we've always been competing side to side. Now that it has come to this, I now wish for us to stay alive in the process. Good lord, vampires out there? Crazy." He drank the water and said to you, "If I become the Alpha, you can still be an Alpha. The wife of the Alpha. Marry me, [Y/N]." You chuckled and said, "Aiden! You're like one of my closest friends in the pack! Never gonna happen!" Aiden smirked, "I know that's going to be your answer. Just stay safe and stay alive, okay? Either of us has only one goal: to protect the Sanguine Pack and unite the seven packs." Both of you hugged and went on your homes for the night. Tomorrow is the day when both of you are going to each of your tasks.

___________________

Today's the day. Before you and Aiden left the pack, the Elders gave you two a powerful protection spell to ensure your safety and whatever happens, the two of you will come back alive. And as for you, your mom made you drink vervain. She said that it’ll help you to not be compelled by the vampires. You bid your good-byes to your friends and family. Your parents told you that if it is an emergency, then you'll have to call them as soon as possible. Your pack's residing in the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia. You thought to yourself that this is going to be a long ride.

____________________

After almost 12 hours of driving, you now reached New Orleans. As soon as you stepped in the New Orleans, you can see that the city’s full of life. Different to the place you’ve grown up to. In the mountains, the life is chill. But in this city, it’s also chill but there’s always a buzz everywhere you go.

Before you go out of the car, you messaged your mom and told her that you just got in the city. After checking in the Palace Royal Hotel, as you were walking, you saw a voodoo shop called Jardin Gris. You went inside and asked for some herbs, and a girl named Sabine asked you, “Are you a witch?” You were shocked by the question, “Uh, no! I was just passing by. I’m a tourist! I’m [y/n]!” Sabine looked at you from head to toe, “Well, I thought you were a witch. You were wearing some kind of necklace that only a person who knows a powerful witch can have. And I can sense it too.” You are now literally breaking into sweats when a blonde girl walked in, “Hey, witch!” You heard the girl talk to Sabine. You tried not to pry but when Sabine asked the girl, “To what do I owe the displeasure, Mikaelson?” You asked yourself, a Mikaelson? The Original Vampire?

“I need a camphor. Now.” You saw the lady Mikaelson wait for the witch. She’s gorgeous, you thought to yourself. You realized that like you werewolves, they’re blending in the humans too. When she went out, you sneakily followed her but you when you went out, she’s gone.

You continued your tour around the place. The night time came and the city’s been livelier than ever. Parties and drinking everywhere. You went inside the bar called, Rousseau’s. A bartender girl named Tanya, greeted you, “Ohhh, new face. What’s up?” You seated at one of the stools in front of her, “[y/n]. Just a tourist from Virginia. Scotch please, thanks.”

After awhile, you feel yourself getting drunk. Someone sat beside you, the blonde girl from the shop and a guy wearing a tailored suit. The guy looked expensive, you thought to yourself.

You heard them talking about a girl named Sophie and about a bunch of witches are plotting against their brother. “We need a witch to do an unlinking spell, Rebekah. It is for the safety of our niece and Hayley.” The girl beside him replied, “We need a witch to do the spell. And after that, I’m leaving this bloody town, Elijah.” You thought to yourself, “Unlinking spell? That’s so basic.” You weren’t sure why but the two of them stared at you, and you asked them, “What?” The guy asked you, “Do we know you? It seems like you’re new in town.” They waited for your response, “What’s with this town and that they keep on asking me if I am new in town?” The blonde girl smirked, “I like her.” However, before they speak again, you left them.

While you were walking, the alcohol starts to leave your system. You sat in one of the bench at Jackson Square. The square is empty, however, there are three vampires who started hovering around you.

“What the hell? What do you want?” One of them started leaning towards you, it looks like they are trying to compel you. But you said to them, “Freaks!” You ran as much as you can but due to you not being on your werewolf form, you cannot ran as fast as you can. “Stop right there! How can you not be compelled? Damn it! Vervain’s in your system. I thought we’ll have a dinner for tonight.” You thought that they were walking away, however, you used magic and you snapped their heads. You ran back in your hotel, and you pray that no one knew that you just practiced magic.

After showering, you heard a knock on your door, you recognize him as the guy from the bar. “Hello, I believe this is yours.” He was holding your necklace, you checked your neck, and you realized that it’s gone. “Give that to me!” The man won’t give it to you. “You realize that you just used magic in New Orleans where a vampire, who runs the town, forbids the use of magic.” You stopped trying to get the necklace and told him, “I just did. I’ll be damned if I let those psycho blood suckers kill me.” The man in front of you gave your necklace, however, there’s a catch. “I’ll give this to you but you need to help me break a link between two persons.” You furrowed your eyebrows and said, “And who are you? Why would I help you then?”

“I’m Elijah Mikaelson, and I need your help.”

[jack-is-lost]

PATCHES & PINS (CH 2)

A/N: This story revolves around a transgender, female to male, original character. LGBTQ+ topics are a given within this story. Gender and body dysphoria will come up as well since he is not out to his family — only close friends. If you dislike such a story premise please understand you do not have to interact with it at all. Leaving hate comments will be removed. Of course, constructive feedback is always welcomed.   Pairing: Eventually Marko x OTMC Story is still in progress and updates will be slow Eventually it will be posted on A03 once I’m a few chapters in

Chapter one | Currently on Chapter two | Chapter 3 coming soon.

Chapter two

“Stayed up late again, didn’t you?” Jay groaned into the couch cushions as Tyler braced his weight on the back of it to peer down at his gremlin of a sister. “With a sleep schedule like this, you might be able to snag an overnight job at the store.”

Tyler received another mumbling mess for a response, but he knew the telltale answer. It was always the same; ‘Don’t wanna’ or ‘No time’.

“C’mon, Jay,” he shook the couch, the motion of it getting her to roll over at least and look up at him. “You know it’s a good idea. You’ll be turning eighteen soon, and you have no job history under your belt.” 

“Ty…” Jay sighed out, searching for strength. “I know that, of course. It’s just—”

“—No, no, none of the ifs, ands, and buts, Jay.” He cut his sister off, arms crossing. Sometimes it was like Tyler was trying to be the father figure. Not that they were missing one by any means. “It is the summer. A good time to work a temporary job, at least.” Jay sat up and ran fingers through unruly hair, trying to calm it down. “Fine, I’ll walk around a bit and put applications in, okay?” Anything to get you off my ass, Jay added silently. “Head over to the market.” Came the simple reply, but a smile was there nonetheless. They both knew the store was always looking for overnight stockers. It was the job Tyler worked at for the longest time before getting a spot at the town's mechanic shop. “Will do. Now, let me lay here in peace, please, or make a pot of coffee.” Tyler rolled his eyes dramatically but didn’t say anything snide. Instead, he headed for the kitchen to wash the pot out and start a new batch. Their parents wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, both working afternoon shifts, and Jay could lay about till then. “Oh, by the way,” Tyler called out from the kitchen. “I changed the laundry over to the dryer while you were napping.” Jay peered over the couch at the words and into the adjacent room, staring at his back with big eyes. “And you might want to hide your newly bought jeans from mom.” Oh, yeah, he definitely saw the giant tear in the knee. Jay slid down into the cushions face first, groaning once more. 

Shit. . . . “Edgar!” he hollered out while stepping into the comic shop from the cooling night air. A rustling noise, a sound of a box hitting the ground, greeted Jay before a head popped up over the counter. “What’s the deal, man,” Edgar grumbled out before ducking back down. Obviously startled by the sudden outburst and now irritated at picking up inventory from the floor. “The deal?” Jay stopped at the counter, plopping his bag there to unzip it. “You left my ass at the cemetery, and—” he pulled out the jeans, “— my pants tore because of you.” Edgar stood up straight to look at the clothing, quickly noticing a nice long gash in the overall pristine trousers. “I wasn’t wearing them so how is it my fault?”

“Don’t,” Jay glared and was ready to explain the reasoning when Alan walked out from the back. He looked equally exhausted. “I’ll fix them.” He spoke up while coming to a stop next to his brother. “Why? It adds character.” “Shut up, Ed.” Alan grabbed the clothing and slung it over his shoulder. It was clear to him that Jay was avoiding trouble. They looked new, and Alan knew how much their parents were strikingly different. If any of their clothes tore, it was no problem — hardly even noticed by their stoned-out mom and dad. Jay’s parents, however, that was another story. “Thanks, man.” “Wear something more worn out next time,” Edgar muttered while bending down to pick up the box to continue his work. “Next time?” Jay followed the brother along the counter, stepping up behind Edgar as he walked into an aisle. “I’m not doing a ‘next time’.” 

One time was enough. “Look,” the boy turned to face him, a scowl already present, but when wasn't it? “You made it out with no trouble, right? Didn’t get caught, right?” Jay eyed him, not sure where this was going. “...Yeah?” “Then why stop? You need the practice to become a proper hunter.” “Ed—” “—Edgar.” Jay rolled his head along his shoulders, “Point is," he breathed out. "I never wanted to be a hunter.” This made Edgar’s brows lift with speculation. “Then why read so much about monster-bashing?”

“I…” Jay started then shoved his hands into his jacket, turning away, “Forget it. I’ll be back tomorrow to grab my jeans.” He needed a break from these two. Jay headed outside of the establishment, almost scrapping shoulders with a customer while storming out, but he didn't care. It was hard for Jay to explain his mere interest in folklore. It wasn’t to go on make-believe hunting sprees, not at all. Supernatural shit didn’t even exist — it was all made up for entertainment, nothing else. Blindly Jay walked down the boardwalk, heading out toward the shopping district further into town. His gaze was more on the ground or sky than straight ahead of him, asking any deities up there to give him some internal strength. He really needed it. Jay hated job hunting, avoided it even. It was just another group of people calling him female pronouns and using his full name — where legal paperwork spoke volumes over him. And the uniforms — they would no doubt show off what little curves Jay constantly made a point to hide, and he hated it. A bump against his shoulder went unaddressed. Jay could care less and didn’t even look back to apologize. It wasn’t until the person spoke up that he even gave pause. “What?” Jay asked while turning around, catching the sight of a genuine smile. “I said, ‘you look better with no mud’.” It was the guy from the cemetery. ( Marko’s POV )

“Thanks?” the voice was soft, if not a little uneasy. Marko shrugged, “No problem. Where were you headin’?” “Oh,” Marko watched the other turn back toward their previous destination. Off in the distance, the shopping district lit up the night sky. If one squinted, they could even see the big, bold neon sign for the market. “Was about to, um,” Marko lifted his brow while waiting. “Put in an application?” “You don’t seem so sure about that?” He asked while holding back a smirk. “Because I’m not?” Again it was said like a question. “Let me guess,” Marko chuckled. “You’d prefer not to work? What are you, a party animal or something?” That received a good laugh. “Fuck, no. Do I look like a frat boy to you?” Marko took the question like an invitation and openly swept his gaze over the one standing before him. Short hair with the sides faded, a hoodie beneath a jacket — how many layers does one need during summer nights — faded jeans, and sneakers. “Ah, nope.” He popped the ‘P’ sound after a second of staring. “I’d say you look more like a guy who…” he hummed in thought, really trying to find the right words. “—Like someone who’d probably fall asleep at a movie theater?” Marko feigned shock, a hand grabbing at his chest. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?” “Nope,” this time he popped the ‘P’ sound. “With all that loud sound effects and shit?” Marko received a nod without hesitation. “Okay,” he drew out the sound, ”How ‘bout horror movies? You cannot tell me you’d sleep through all that noise?” Boring romance movies and dry comedy was one thing, but slasher flicks was another — surely. It took a moment to reply, and Marko watched as the other’s face scrunched up in thought. The answer came in the form of a shrug, “Can’t say I’ve tried that, exactly.” Without a second thought, Marko grabbed the teen’s wrist — like he did last night, and headed in an entirely new direction. “Whoa— whoa, where’s the rush, my dude?” “Child’s Play just came out, and I am taking your ass to the movies.” “You are what?” The voice behind him laughed. “I don’t even know your name, and you’re taking me on a date?” Marko looked over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. “The names Marko.”

( Jay’s POV ) Jay stared at the back of his head while being guided toward The Sash Mill Cinema. Was this normal? Everything felt natural around this guy, and it left Jay feeling a little baffled. Marko didn’t even bat an eye at the lame joke. He didn’t think I was serious about it, did he?  He stood beside the other while Marko paid for tickets. He didn’t even comment about it when the other ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two fat sodas. It wasn’t until they plopped down inside the semi-lit room, waiting for the movie even to start, when Marko spoke up again. He looked completely at home, too, with boots resting upon the seat in front of him. “So, do I get the courtesy of your name too?” “Oh, uh, it’s Jay.” His gaze fell to the popcorn in his lap, where Marko had placed it once sitting down. “I could have pitched in some, y’know?” “Don’t worry about it, man. Besides,” he reached for a handful of popcorn, a boot resituating to lean across the other. “How could I expect a jobless teen to pay for something?” The words didn’t have any heat to them, but Jay still gave a side-eye-glare. “I had some cash on me.” “Then you get to pay for dinner afterwards.” The comeback was quick. Does he even think before speaking, Jay wondered. “If that’s the plan then I hope you dig pizza.” “Pizza’s good, yeah.” Marko agreed as the room around them dimmed, the movie starting. “Shh — don’t want to piss off paid customers.” he snickered. Jay looked around the theater and noticed a handful of people here and there. It wasn’t overly crowded, which was surprising for a Saturday, but still full enough. With that in mind, Jay didn’t make any comments as the screen lit up and began playing, fingers blindly grabbing some popcorn.  It wasn’t even three minutes into the film when Marko chuckled under his breath. Jay glanced at him then back at the screen, trying to figure out how getting shot in the chest was meant to be funny. He didn’t have to wonder long as Marko leaned closer to him, voice quiet. “You’d think he would have ducked after shooting. He did it multiple times before that. And the blood, what did he do? Stick his hand into paint?” Marko leaned away again to sip his soda. Jay smiled a little. He guessed it could be kind of funny when thinking outside of the movie. “Did he just blow up the entire shop by chanting?” “Holy shit, he did!” “Shhh!” A couple a few seats behind them grumbled. Marko simply flipped them off without even looking.  And that’s how the whole film went. Marko, trying to keep his laughter to a minimum as a toy doll went on a murdering spree and Jay, almost choking on popcorn from it all. Not once did he feel bored enough to pass out. . . . As they walked out of the theater, Jay bumped against Marko’s shoulder, glad that their height wasn’t much different. Being short always bugged Jay since most men seemed tall, bulky. It was another image he couldn’t be or attain. The motion of being bumped was answered with an arm draped across Jay’s shoulder. “You didn’t fall asleep even once. I’d say that is a point for me, zero for you.” Marko smirked as they shuffled together near the closest pizza establishment, a little family-owned gig near the theater. “Are we keeping points here, really?” Jay smiled back. “Remind me next time.” Marko chuckled lightly as his hand slid down to give a slap to Jay’s back before dropping altogether. “Oh, next time you say?” he pulled open the door wide enough a family of four could have walked through. “You think you’re lucky enough to get a second date?” Jay rolled his eyes as he stepped inside the shop, the smell of breadsticks and pizza hitting his senses like a brick wall. “Still on about the whole date comment, aren't you?” “I don’t see why not,” he simply said while stopping at the cashier, “Or you saying I’m not hot enough to date?” Again his words held no real malice to them, just a light inquisitive tone. Jay eyed him for a moment before the girl behind the counter spoke up, drawing him to make a decision. At the mention of the buffet being half off, Marko boastfully announced his opinion before already hitting the line of food. It left little room to argue, and Jay paid for the price, pocketing the remaining bills in his back pocket. He grabbed the cups offered by her as she popped her gum. “How’d you snag a hottie like him, gal?” her hand propped up her chin as she leaned against the counter, gaze not even on Jay as she asked. Who, at the pronoun, bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t tell if her words were honest wonderment or layered with less positivity than her brightly colored wristbands. “None of your business.” “Sheesh, snobby much?” She rolled her eyes nice and slow before turning her attention to the staff working in the backroom.  Jay didn’t see a reason to correct her. Not for implying his gender or calling him a snob. It didn’t matter much, anyway. Family, teachers — they all used them. It was an uphill battle that Jay stalled by sitting at the bottom. The Frog brothers were different, and Sam figured it out without any help by tagging along with them. It was a safe little corner for Jay to be in, even if a little crazy. He walked the buffet, grabbing a slice of pepperoni and some garlic sticks, even after Marko grabbed a booth — plate stacked. Jay gradually took his time to pace through the small selection as his eyes wandered over to the curly-haired boy. Not once did he ever mention female nouns the entire night. He, overall, treated Jay like any other dude. Did he know any different? Jay sat down and laughed as Marko bluntly commented on his plate. Apparently, pepperoni was too plain, and Jay needed to live a little and try it with olives. He watched Marko stuff his face and lick salt off fingers, nonplussed by the display of eating, and he couldn’t help but think this guy just didn’t care — didn’t care about Jay’s appearance or title in life. Something that often weighed him down. It was a relief, in a sense — to not care. “C’mon, Jay, seriously try it.”

The pizza drooped in front of his face, and Jay reluctantly leaned forward for a bite. “Fuck—” he wiped at his mouth instantly. “— that is WAY too much jalapeno, man.” Marko laughed at the expression across the teen’s face. “Nah,” he breathed out. “Your tongue is just a fuckin’ wuss, is all.” Jay gulped down his soda before wiping at his mouth again. “Are you sure it isn’t your tongue that has long since left the planet?” What did they do to that pizza? Let it marinate in jalapeno juice? “I can guarantee you that my palate is top-notch.” “Sure, sure.” “Hey,” the girl from before stood by their booth, hand on hip. “We’re closing up in twenty-minutes.” “What time is it?” Jay asked as he looked outside the nearest window, noting that the parking lot was practically empty. Was it that late already? “Almost ten,” she simply stated before openly checking out Marko, gaze fanning over his open black coat that showed a white tank. Not surprisingly, Marko gave her an equal amount of attention with his gaze. Jay stood up, “Think we should head out.” he grabbed the last breadstick and headed for the exit, stepping out into the cooling air. It took another minute before Marko emerged with a cheeky smile, a folded paper between his fingers. “Got her digits, huh?” “Easily,” Marko slid it into his coat pocket. “Must be my charm.” Jay stepped off in the direction of his street. The walk home was going to take a good thirty-minutes, but he didn’t mind. All the walking around kept him in shape. And so what if Marko nabbed the girl’s number. It wasn’t like they were on a serious date — just two guys having a good time, and jealousy was not about to ruin the good mood. “Where are we heading next?” Marko asked while easily getting in step next to Jay. “The boardwalk stays open later during summer hours. I’m sure we can snag a few spots on some rides before they shut down.” Jay kept walking away from the boardwalk, hands in his coat. “I’m heading home.” “Already?” Marko placed a hand on the other's shoulder, causing them both to pause. “The night’s still young.” “My parents will start to worry if I am not back by eleven.” “But you were out roaming the graveyard way past midnight yesterday?” Jay cut his gaze away, fingers fiddling with the seam inside his pocket where a string had come loose months ago. “I snuck out last night to help some friends, is all.” It would be hard to explain everything, wouldn’t it? The valid reason he was out there among tombstones. Even if Jay explained it, what would stop Marko from instantly labeling him off as a weirdo? “Besides,” Jay spoke up before Marko could ask for further details. “Why were you even out there? Are you a grave robber or something?” He didn’t know anything about this guy, not really.

Marko must have noticed the way Jay’s tone had shifted, and the uneasy tension was back. He placed his hands up in the way of surrender, pale fingers a stark difference to the gloves covering everything else. “No grave robbing by my hands, promise.” They stared at one another for a second before Marko’s hands dropped, his voice filling in the thick silence around them. “If you don’t want to elaborate, I get it — all’s good, but let me at least walk you home.” Jay shook his head without even considering the notion. “Just hit me up later or something. I’d rather walk home alone.” “Okay, okay.” Marko stepped away, hands in his own coat and looking relaxed. It seemed like nothing could sour his mood despite how their night was ending. “I’ll chat with you later, Jay.” “Yeah, see ya’.” And Jay turned  around without looking back, bag slung over one shoulder and drawing his hood up. So what if their night ended off on an odd note, and Jay didn’t apply for any jobs? His sneakers scrapped along the cracked pavement, thoughts turning inside his head like a storm. For the most part Jay enjoyed the night. It went from shitty to fun, and that’s what really counts, right? “Tyler is going to be pissed at me.”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Beauty Within the Fallen ch.I

Summary: Two misfit twins come across an enchanted castle, home of a mysterious beast, and slowly begin to form a strong bond that just might survive through anything. Even evil demons.

AU and artwork belong to the beautiful and very talented @artsycrapfromsai​. Go give her some love, guys!!!

ch. II

~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time, deep within the woods of France, a wealthy man lived in a shining castle. While this man had all one could dream of - money, fame, a beautiful and intelligent wife, and three sons who were handsome in all aspects - the cup this man had chosen to fill had no bottom; it was never enough for him. Behind a mask of silver and gold, the family suffered. The eldest son, a humble man, broke away from the rich family and found love in a small, poor town. The mother, while heartbroken, was happy for her son and wished him nothing but joy, but the father disowned him and forbade any further contact.

With the heir and eldest gone, more pressure fell on the man’s twin sons than ever before. Already far too used to shouldering impossible demands and harboring guilt and responsibility, the eldest twin looked elsewhere for comfort, since it had been proven that family was not the place to go to. His brother, younger by fifteen minutes, was worried for him and acted as he felt was best. One day he confronted the problem and tried to aid the older twin. Together, as a family, they had won the battle, but they would lose the war. A furious demon soon haunted their home, cackling and proclaiming that if one loved his precious journal so much why does he not become one. The younger twin tried to fight back, to once again remain victorious and to right the wrong he had started, but the demon, who sees all and knows all, could not be fought or conned; he knew what this man was and how he saw himself, so he decided to pair the human with his twin and he turned into what he saw himself as. The younger twin was transformed into a hideous monster, and all the servants of the castle were cursed, as well. All who had loved these people, all outside the castle’s walls, were freed of their memories of them, leaving the servants and the brothers forgotten. Confident that the younger brother would never accomplish such a task, the demon had it be known that only if he could find someone to love him the curse would be lifted. They did not have all the time in the world, however; since the older twin was the first to deal with the demon, the journal would slowly lose pages as time went on. When the last page of the journal leaves the cover, the curse would remain forever and the elder twin would be nothing more than an empty shell and the younger twin would remain a beast for all time. Years passed. The brothers lost all hope, coming to face the reality that all they had left in the entire world was each other. For who could ever care for such monsters? ~~~~~~~~~~ Sandwiched in the quiet village, made of stone and bricks and hard work, sat an odd house. Odd for it’s tiny porch full of flowers and herbs. Odd for it’s pig snoozing on the top of the small set of stairs leading to the garden. Odd for it’s residence and their interests, but it was home. Boots clicked against the wood as the little girl skipped out the door and picked up her pig and hugged him, leaving a laundry basket on the floor. Her brother slapped on his blue cap and made sure his matching vest was on well. His sister followed him down the steps with the big basket and the pig followed them down the street of the little town. “Bonjour!” “Bonjour!” “Bonjour, Monsieur!” “Oui, oui, Madame! Mon plaisir!” Mabel, in her peasant girl’s dress with a pink jacket and cloth for a headband, grinned and waved at an old lady across the slow street. “Bonjour, Susan!” Lazy Susan paused her job, walking into the shop with fresh cookies, and held the tray out to the twins. “Good morning, little pinetrees! Where are you off to?” “The library.” Dipper shared while his sister munched on a cookie. He gave Lazy Susan some money and took some bread from a tray on the window. “We just finished one about a knight and a swamp and a princess.” “It was wonderful!” Mabel cheered, her cheeks full of delicious cookie. “I preferred Shakespeare.” “Well, would you like a cookie, too, Dipper?” Lazy Susan asked, knowing the boy all too well to know he would only take one when directly offered. Dipper smiled, took a cookie, and he and Mabel said “merci” before heading on their way. “Bonjour. How is your family?” Tad Strange asked the red-haired lumberjack. “Bonjour! How is your wife?” A creepy old lady asked Mr. Gleeful. “Attrape les! Attrape les!” Tyler cheered Manly Dan on as he lifted some heavy logs. “There, Dipper!” Mabel said, tugging on his vest, and the kids ran for the little library in the midst of the chaos. The library was only one room with only one wall filled with books. With Dipper being an advanced reader and Mabel as an advent storyteller, the two made their evenings entertaining with stories taking them far away. “Good morning!” The curly-haired man said behind the counter with his wife by his side. “Happy day!” “Bonjour, Madame et Monsieur Valentino.” Dipper greeted politely. Mabel rushed to one book and held it out to her twin brother. “Let’s borrow this one!” “We’ve read it three times already.” Dipper said with a roll of his eyes and a small smile. He pulled out the book they were returning from his vest and put it back on the shelf. “But it’s my favorite!” Mabel climbed up the ladder and pretended to sword fight an enemy. “New places! Daring fight! Spells and magic! Great character development!” Dipper chuckled and hushed Mabel, taking the book. “Okay, okay. We’ll read it again, but then I want to pick up Hamlet again.” “Deal!” Mabel cheered and hopped down. While Mabel was at the counter with Mr. and Mrs. Valentino, Dipper was elbowed harsly by a black-haired teenager with bad acne. “What are you doing back here, chief?” Dipper glared at him. “What does it look like I’m doing, actually using my brain.” “Oh yeah,” Robbie snarled and leaned down, his big nose almost touching the boy. “How’s that going for you, twerp?” “Dipper, c’mon!” Mabel called, the laundry basket in her arms by the door. “Let’s go!” “Coming!” Dipper ran after her, but he tripped over Robbie’s foot and fell on his face, but he quickly got up and followed his sister. The kids raced around with their pet pig, Waddles, at their heels, and laughed at each other’s company. They made their way to the Washing Well and began to do the laundry. Beforehand, they had invented a new way of doing laundry; once again, Dipper and Mabel made the perfect team, with the girl’s imagination and the boy’s intelligence harmoniously coexisting to create new inventions and ideas. Borrowing some rope and having Waddles help them, they used gears from Dipper’s vest to hook up the pig to the barrel with rope and they used gears so the barrel would turn with the special sticks inside, mixing the soap with the clothes and saving energy and work. Mabel used oats to make a circle around the well for waddles to follow, and then the twins watched proudly as their washing machine seemed to be working. “We did it!” Mabel cheered and high-fived her twin brother. Dipper then punched her shoulder lightly and said, “I told you it would work! Maybe next time we should borrow Gompers, though. Waddles is kind of slow.” “What?” Mabel dragged and laughed. “No way, Waddles is perfect! You’ll see, those clothes will be cleaner than the Northwests!” Dipper smiled as he opened the book and laid it on the stone wall, using it as a desk as he and his sister watched the washing. “Okay, okay, we should keep working on your reading. You’re getting better. Why not try to read the introduction?” Mabel smiled, a little shy when it comes to being a better reader, but she loved stories and she wanted to prove that she was smart, too, so she nodded and began to read outloud. She hoped her fond memory of the book would make it easier, guessing the words, but that proved to be false. Still, Dipper and patient and a good teacher and slowly Mabel finished the first chapter all on her own. “That was great!” Dipper congratulated and Mabel’s cheeks turned rosy. “What are you two doing?” The twins looked ahead to find Blubs and Durland staring at them, looking both shocked and unapproving. Mabel’s cheeks turned a darker red, but she tried to smile and be friendly. “Bonjour, mes capitaines!” Mabel greeted warmly. “Having a good day?” “We were, until we saw the commotion you two are up to.” Blubs said. “What’s a girl doing reading? And what on Earth is all this? Another invention?” Mabel grinned, choosing to ignore his first comment. “Yeah! Isn’t it great? Think of all the work this’ll get done!” “Mabel,” Dipper whispered warningly. “You’re usin’ up the whole well!” Durland scolded. “And no pigs inside the well!” “That’s not a rule.” “You questioning our authority, boy?” Blubs growled. “I’m questioning your objectivity.” “I dunno what that means, but I don’t like it.” Durland sneered and the two policemen pulled the barrel out of the well and bumped the soapy laundry on the dirt. “You two take your freaky readin’ somewhere else!” Dipper and Mabel hurried to pick up their clothes. Waddles waddled to them and rubbed his head on Dipper, who hugged him for comfort before continuing to clean up the mess. The twins turned for home and simultaneously groaned; hurrying to them with white hair and pale skin was the ten-year-old, Gideon Gleeful. He grinned at the sight of them and hopped on over in his baby-blue junior army uniform. He bowed a little and said, “Why, Mabel! You look absolutely radiant today!” “Thanks.” She mumbled. “Here, lemme help y’all.” Gideon said and picked up some stray laundry. “I think your invention was really neat.” Dipper raised an eyebrow at him. “You do?” “Oh, sure!” Gideon said. “Laundry’s sucha pain, but y’all made it bearable! Great job!” “Gee thanks, Gideon.” Mabel said sincerely with a smile and took the laundry from his arms. “You know,” Gideon said slyly and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “If you wanna read to me or show me some more inventions, I’m not busy tonight.” Mabel’s smile went away, suddenly very uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, not tonight.” “Oh. Already got plans?” “No.” Dipper grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go back home. Fiddleford will need our help soon.” Gideon and the policemen watched them go away. A big muscular man with no pupils emerged from a shop and said, “I’m sorry that girl isn’t into you, Lil’ Gideon.” “She loves me!” Gideon insisted. “She just doesn’t know it yet.” “What makes you wanna date the Pines girl, anyway?” Blubs asked. “She’s the prettiest!” Gideon explained. “And the nicest! That makes her the best! If I’m gonna be the best I need the best as my queen!” “Yeah,” Durland said. “But she and her brother are nothing like the rest of us.” Gideon didn’t care, and hurried to catch up to his friends. Or at least former-friends. He shoved his way past busy peasants and called out to the twins. Dipper kept on muttering “Ignorer, ignorer, ignorer!” to himself and his sister. Ever since Gideon’s little crush got out of hand and he joined the military, he had been pestering Mabel to be with him and Dipper to join the army. What used to be annoying was now toxic and they were taught not to meddle with that. Mabel, Dipper, and Waddles made it into their house just before Gideon could catch up, leaving him to switch his eye and say to himself, “Sure… kiss those other frogs, Mabel Pines… this prince can wait…” The twins sighed with relief inside their childhood home. Dipper locked the door and Mabel hugged Waddles. They were both still as they heard music and they smiled and followed it. In the main room, what was supposed to be a living room but was mostly a study and work room, an old man with a long beard and nose sat at a desk, working on a music box. The machine was small and plain on the outside, but on the inside it was many beautiful colors and had pretty iron gears. Fiddleford glanced up from his work and smiled at the children. “Y’all back. How was it in town today?” “It was okay.” Mabel said and sat next to him. “Mabel sweetie, will ya hand me… thank ya.” Fiddleford chuckled as Mabel had the piece in her hand already, smart enough to know just what he needed. “What made it only okay?” “Gideon.” Dipper said and sat on Fiddleford’s other side. “Oh. My boy, will ya hand me… no, no, not… actually…” Fiddleford smiled with pride for the boy to have known of the correct piece before he did. Both of the children were bright in their own right, as he always said. “Well, m’sorry that boy won’t quit botherin’ y’all. Shall I talk with his parents?” Mabel sighed and rested her cheek on her fist. “Nah, I just wish things could go back to the way they were before. You know, friends.” Dipper was off in his own little world. Mabel might have been oblivious to it all, but Dipper was not. Between all the polite greetings, the people had hissed rumors and comments about the Pines twins. Poor orphaned children who were stuck with their grandfather’s best friend ever since the plague. Maybe if they only had proper parents to raise them they would be so odd, like a boy with no interest in fighting and a girl who loves to read. Mabel was always told she wasn’t smart enough to read and Dipper was always told he wasn’t strong enough and should fix it. It became suffocating at times. “Fiddleford,” He said out of the blue. “Are we odd?” Fiddleford blinked rapidly and readjusted his glasses. “Odd? My kids? Odd? Never. What got that into your head?” Dipper shrugged. “People talk.” Mabel sighed, sorry for her brother. “It’s all my fault.” “What?” The boys gasped. “If only I wasn’t so… different.” Mabel picked up a bigger music box Fiddleford had built but had not yet decorated. She saw her reflection, the reflection of a girl with fat cheeks and not-perfect teeth, someone every other boy but creeps had rejected. “Ya ain’t different.” Fiddleford said firmly. “You’re special. Wanna know why?” “Cuz we’re made of stars?” Mabel guessed, eyeing her twin. Dipper smiled and took off his hat and pushed his hair back, showing off his birthmark. Fiddleford told them ever since they were little that they were made out of the same stuff as stars, both full of light and goodness. The old man smiled and gently combed Dipper’s brown hair. “That’s right, Sweet Tea. Ya remember me tellin’ ya that I was there when y’all were born?” The children nodded. “You said Grandpa Shermie woke you up in the middle of the night, but you didn’t care.” Dipper said. “You wanted to see us.” “I was born first and punched the doctor in the jaw!” Mabel declared victoriously. “That’s right, sweetie, ya were.” Fiddleford laughed and went on with his story. “Ya were so new but your eyes already shined so bright. Dipper came next, but his skin was blue n’ he was sick. Thank the Lord we knew he’d be okay soon, n’ your grandpa saw your birthmark n’ grinned n’ said, ‘Hah! That’s my weirdos! Nothing can take ‘em down!’” Dipper and Mabel smiled over fond memories of their grandfather. Their parents had died when they were babies and that was when Fiddleford moved in permanently to help take care of the kids. Grandpa Shermie died four years ago, and it still hurt a little, but now they could all remember him with smiles on their faces. “It’s a good thang y’all are weird. Ain’t nothin’ better than bein’ different.” Fiddleford assured them. “I know it’s been hard - small town leads to small minds, ya know - but hurtin’ makes ya kind n’ strong, n’ there’s no doubt in my mind that y’all are gonna do big thangs one day n’ make ‘em all feel like fools.” Dipper and Mabel smiled, but their eyes seemed unsure. Fiddleford closed the little music box and pushed his chair back. “I think that’s enough work for now.” He leaned back and grabbed the banjo that was leaning against the wall. “What should we sing first?” Mabel grinned; growing up, their lives had been full of music. Fiddleford sang to them since they were babies and taught them how to dance and sing. Dipper smiled and let Mabel and Fiddleford create good background music while he read the book from the library. “Take a little journey, Let’s go to the unknown. Let’s come back changed, We’ll feel it in our bones. It may be scary, It may be hard, But I’ll go as long as I have you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note: I tried to put in a lot of different Disney references in this story, outside of GF and BatB; if I could draw I would have totally put some Mickey Mouse ears in the background or something.

One thing that was interesting to write about was Dipper and Mabel’s backstory and Fiddleford’s friendship with their grandfather. Honestly, Shermie doesn’t get enough attention, in canon or in the fandom, so it’s always fun to include him when I can. Sorry I had to be a jerk and kill him off.

In case anyone is wondering, the song the family sings at the end of the chapter is based off of “Find Me in the Woods”, basically the perfect song for Gravity Falls (and Over the Garden Wall).

One last thing; primarily this crossover is based off of the animated BatB movie, but I did pull some ideas from the 2017 live-action movie. My opinion of the live-action movie is a tad bias, I’ll admit it (the casting of Emma Watson sold me instantly), but while it’s certainly not better than the animated movie, there are some elements I love, like the piano and the wardrobe’s love story, Lefou’s character development and Josh’s performance, the mob scene I felt was better executed, and I like this version of Maurese better. Expect SOME elements of the live-action in here, like Dipper and Mabel being inventors and their washing machine, but note that it’s mainly based off of the original animated movie.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

[ihavenoclue-13]

Playing with fire ch. 1

This is my first writing, go easy on me. This story completely ignore marvel time lines cause I’m in denial. I, of course, own none of MCU. I do own my OFC’s and ideas though.

Warning: strong language? Eventual smut. Lots of angst and violence. Possible bad writing. It will get better over time. Steve and Bucky being pricks. (Just a little)

Red. My vision seemed permanently stained that way. Blood. Sticky,staining blood. It made my skin feel heavy as if I had gel all over my body. I stood in my uniform in our elevator. Nervously fiddling with my hands, old habits die hard. I was to immediately debrief Ed on the mission, as well as Fury. It didn’t matter each breath I took felt like someone burned my esophagus with a hot poker. Looking at my hands, I noticed blood was etched into my fingers and I tried to remember a time that wasn’t the case.

Flash back 5 years

“She was just a one night thing. We could never date Luna or be with her in that way, Sam. She’s weak and meek.” Steve’s voice carried to where I stood in the hall. I had just woken up to an empty bed, both super soldiers long gone. No trace.

“I mean she’s shy, but she would be a great person to commit to.” Sam said enthusiastically and I realized they were talking about me and my smile was washed clean off my face. The once warm feeling of pure happiness, replaced with pure rage.

“I mean they are super soldiers, you really expect them to settle down.” Nat snorted before earning yeahs from them both.

“Besides it’s not like she’s special or anything.” Bucky shrugged, that was all I needed. They lied. They had told me promises of love and safety and it was just a gimmick. I immediately turned and went to pack up my room, I wouldn’t stay where I wasn’t wanted and definitely where I can’t trust my own team.

“Ms. Sanchez, your car has arrived.” FRIDAY informed me as I thanked the AI. I had written Tony a note explaining why I was gone, they had left shortly after the morning incident on a small mission. I rolled out my bag and pepper shot me a sympathetic look.

“You don’t have to go you know!” She said, walking over to hug me as she began to cry.

“I can’t stay. I will keep in touch I promise.” I said knowing I could email her with no worries.

A ding in the elevator brought me out of my thoughts. I walked down the hall, still in my full outfit, carrying the merchandise.(her outfit is Bucky’s winter solider muzzle and cat woman outfit.) I stepped out and began to walk up the corridor to the common room, Ed’s intern made eye contact, but quickly adverted his eyes and ran away.

“Well this place looks amazing, thank you.” Had I still been my old self I would have ran away and hidden, but oh how I’d grown. I growled audibly at the voices I recognized. I finally made it to the end of the hall and dropped my jacket on the bar.

“Ah there’s my favorite.. well lord you look like you had a fun time.” Ed started and I straightened my back, turning around. Bucky immediately looked wary and it gave me a sense of pride, an ego boost. I put my thumb on my bracelete to unlock the face shield , before it turned into the other bracelete. I heard audible gasps.

“Well I’m glad I’m the favorite since I don’t do consolation prizes.” I quipped pouring a drink, to ignore the searing burn in my throat.

“Luna, these are,” Ed started, “I know who they are. Here’s hydras little black book. Am I released to shower now?” I asked cutting him off, had I had the ability to blush I would have. Steve and Bucky looked like shit and they were staring at me like I was a kicked puppy. Nat looked shocked, Wanda had a sad look strained across her face and permanent etched into her features. Tony and Sam looked concerned.

“I imagine it was a success, no issues?” Fury asked and I directed my gaze to him.

“Have I ever failed one? Yes there were issues, they’ve been handled.” I answered monotone, my team looking happy I had completed the mission. Aurora had stopped looking concerned the minute she determined the blood wasn’t mine.

“Sanchez you can leave, but any survivors?”Ed asked and I grabbed a bottle of bourbon and my jacket. Clint watched every move I made like a hawk with prey.

“Not if they were in the building.” I stated bluntly.

“Oh and Luna, Delta is in your room I believe.” Lucas stated and I nodded.

“Keep the voices down please. Some of us still need sleep.” Tyler laughed out, the booming noise bouncing off the walls and I smiled.

“No promises. If you need us, figure it out alone.” I said, strutting away and drinking. My bedroom was the closest to the common room. I reached my room and opened it to see Delta asleep on the bed, I smiled to myself. He looked so at peace, I walked in and set the stuff down before walking into my bathroom to start the water. I heard Delta come up behind me, but I said nothing. I felt him move my hair to the left side of my neck, as he dragged his lips, soft as rose petals, down my neck.

“Well aren’t you just ravishing.” He said speaking in his British accent, causing me to giggle. He smiled before turning me around to kiss me. The kiss was a peck, but I quickly turned it into more. I pushed forwards applying more pressure to his mouth, dragging my tongue over his bottom lip before biting it hard. This caused him to grunt and make quick work of my outfit, before picking me up and smashing my back into the stone wall.

“I was going to let you relax and sleep.” He laughed, as I began to kiss down his neck making it to where his pulse point use to be. He locked eyes with me, and both our faces changed.

“Sleeps overrated I’d much rather be right here.” I giggled as he continued to kiss down my neck and chest and back up.

“So beautiful.” He mumbled out as he dragged his thumb over my face. I leaned my face into his palm, we weren’t in love. We were nothing but friends, fuck buddied. He was one person I knew I could count on. He began to kiss my neck, licking the excess blood off, and we made contact with the shower water.

“Tyler said to keep the noise down.” I moaned out, as he nipped at the skin.

“Well he can fuck off,”Delta stated in a matter of fact voice. “Or you can feed from him.” Delta finished before kissing me hard again, full of passion, lust, and need. I kissed from the corner of his mouth down to his sweet spot on his neck. He groaned and I quickly bit into him, my fangs latched into his neck as I drank.

“FUCK LUNA.” He said, not giving a damn about Tyler’s jab earlier.

************************************************

Cap P.O.V

“FUCK LUNA!” A male voice echoed off the walls and Aurora snickered.

“Did I not just say to not be loud? No respect.” Tyler huffed making Ed laugh as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. I couldn’t laugh I felt like the air had been knocked from my lungs.

“Leave them alone. Luna has been back to back suicide missions she needs some relief.” Aurora scolded and Tony snorted before says, “sounds like she’s getting just that.” Bucky shot him a glare. We continued to get to know each other and tried to drown out the multiple loud noises coming from Luna’s room. Eventually a guy emerged, in just sweatpants.

“Delta try not to get blood on our floor it just got cleaned.” Lucas groaned out and the guy shot him a look.

“Well you can inform Luna of that, I’m not losing my head. I’ll heal soon enough.” He walked over to join us, “Hello I haven’t met you guys yet, I’m Delta.” He said nodding and drinking water, we all introduced ourselves. He sat opposite to Nat,Bucky, and I and smirked.

“Doesn’t Luna know it’s not nice to play with her food?” Tyler snorted out.

“Ya know ty, green isn’t your color,”Luna’s voice emerged from the kitchen and suddenly there she was. Beautiful as ever, the kind of beauty people use to worship in goddesses, “or We can settle this in the workout ring.”

She had become so strong and independent, no longer the meek girl we all knew.

“I may take you up on that, do I get my own muzzle or do we share yours?” He smarted back, and she hit him in the back of the head.

“Hey!” Tyler pouted, causing Delta to laugh.

“Doll, why aren’t you in bed? You need sleep.” Delta scolded and I began to feel hot flames of jealousy lick at my stomach.

“Maybe you should help her get to sleep, just for the love of all things holy keep the noise down.” Tyler joked.

“Bite me.” Luna bit out. They walked away and it killed me I felt like the preserum me again. I felt sick to my stomach. Bucky and I had agreed when we gave in to our desires and slept with her it wasn’t safe. So we made the whole team go along with the “stupid plan” as Nat called it. We never knew she would leave, our team all sat around the table with fury discussing.

“So I’ll break the ice. What the fuck.” Tony simply stated.

“Tony. I really don’t think you want to go there.” Fury shook his head.

“Hell yes we do. She up and abandons us and now shows up in worse shape then Bucky was. No offense.” Nat sassed and we all nodded and fury sighed loudly. The screen came on and pulled up her profile.

“Luna Sanchez also known as silver shadow or avenging angel. Born in October of 1700. Was turned into an immortal due to a lab experiment gone wrong. She was born with the ability of power absorption, meaning she can gain anyone’s ability by touching them. We have no clue how many she has. Also she was born with ability to manipulate things, like fire,water,electricity, etc.” Fury kept listing things as pictures of her were displayed.

“Só why did she ignore pepper and me and the rest of the team for so long? She may have been hurt but there’s no excuse.” Wanda snapped.

“Wasn’t her call. She was taken into Hydra’s custody being deemed number 2313669 and underwent similar treatment as Barnes. She’s only not in jail, due to me and Ed and her ability to get out. You think that was her choice? None of this was her choice. It was a call made, by the team and by us to keep you guys safe. The woman you knew is dead. Trust me.” Fury reprimanded and I felt the world stop moving.

Everything Bucky and I decided to sacrifice to keep her safe had done nothing.

“Before you guys open your mouth to accuse her of being selfish. I want you to look at some things.” Fury pulled up video footage of Luna being asked about us and specific members and security and she wouldn’t answer. Resulting in physical injury. Everything from beating her to a pulp, to water boarding, to Electrical convulsion torture. Everything they could do they did. I felt bike rise to the back of my throat and I felt nauseous and looked away unable to watch anymore or hear her scream after her resolve broke.

“Make no mistake. She’s a lot of things. Selfish isn’t one. Your alive and safe because she laid her life on the wire for yours. She may not have a metal arm, but her lasting damage is there.”Fury said, before setting down the clicker and walking away. We saw video after video of Luna in hydra or post and what they had done and it broke my heart my resolve. Wanda began to cry and Nat just looked shocked, Tony looked disgusted and in pain.

“We hurt her. We failed her.” Bucky said. Everyone looked at him sympathetically. Nat laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You couldn’t have predicted this Barnes.” She spoke directing her voice to both of us, I was just still in shock.

“She’s right.” Sam said, clasping a firm grip on my shoulder.

“Well I need a drink. Anybody else want one?” Tony said standing and grabbing the bottle from the middle of the table.

“No wonder she hates us.” I finally spoke, holding my head in my hands. We heard something that broke the last of my resolve. A piercing shriek. A scream that made my blood turn into ice water. It was Luna.

“Oh god.” Wanda wailed out and Nat and Clint both hugged her. Whispering it’s okay and Tony continued to throw back drinks. Typical.

We heard movement and all went of high alert and were met to see Luna, just standing there in a sports bra and leggings.

“Sorry. Thought you all were Fury.” She muttered out and Wanda looking up causing Luna to step back. She saw the Tv.

“Not one of my finer moments,” she quipped almost smirking and I crunched my brows confused how someone could joke about this, “Don’t feel bad. It’s a waste of time.” She flatly said, causing me to snap.

“HOW the fuck do you expect me to not feel bad Luna? You were tortured for years because of us. You think we wouldn’t feel like shit over that? Are we suppose to ignore your pain and feelings?!” I yelled and her face instantly hardened.

“Not that it’s your concern Captain Rogers, but it was bound to happen. It happened can’t change it. As far as my emotional state that is not now nor has it ever been something of your concern. You didn’t care 5 years ago don’t start now.” She spat out.

“Luna please.” Bucky pleaded with his eyes holding a broken glaze.

“Sergeant Barnes, I really have nothing to say. What’s done is done.” Luna said formally, she turned to walk away.

“Pepper cries everyday. She assumed you died.” Luna froze, I finally saw the number of different tattoos inked into her skin. One being her hydra number.

“The woman she knew did.” Luna stated over her shoulder, before walking out and closing the door ignoring our protests. She had completely iced us out, her exterior was colder than the ice water I had been plunged into.

[queenofthedramedies]

The Hunter’s Council: Ch. 1

Summary: Caroline is dead, or so everyone thinks. Hayley's triggered to become the new Slayer. She's not the only off-shoot to rise. The Hunter's Council and a new darkness wreak havoc while Klaus' grief drives him over the edge. Newly risen Vampire-Slayer, Caroline, might have to come home to deal with all these new threats and the non-welcoming committee.

Disclaimer: I do not own TheVampireDiaries. That would be Warner Brothers, CW, etc.

Hello, my lovely readers. Welcome back! This is the last book of the CtVS series. Hopefully, I can get an update out next month. On with the show…

Chapter 1: Not Quite Dead

Sunlight dimmed in the cemetery. Rain tapped, tapped on the gravestone. The name of a newly deceased etched out for anyone to read it; unlike some of the older stones in the immediate vicinity. A person stood near the grave. Their fists were balled at their sides as they waited for the undead to rise. Soon. And then a set of fingers broke the surface. The fingers pushed and groped and were soon followed by a blonde mane of hair.

The vampire thrust itself upward and then smiled at the person who waited for them. "Hello, dinner."

"Not so much," Tyler Lockwood replied. He pulled out a stake and waved a hand. "Let's rumble, ass hat."

The male vamp began to circle the young wolf. Tyler ducked back and forth. He felt pretty good about this whole slaying thing. With a little help, he'd been able to kill three vamps this week. And here he thought Caroline was some kind of superhero. Of course, she could take out three vamps in an hour. Still, this wasn't Tyler's calling. And he felt like he was holding his own.

Laughing, the vamp picked up a gravestone and tossed it at Tyler's head. "Okay. Not cool!" Tyler shouted, leaping out of the way. His ankle took the brunt of the edge of the heavy cement. "Ow!" He looked upward. "Bon, a little help! Please!"

Bonnie called back. "Ric's getting attacked in the northeastern corner. It's a three-on-one kind of thing. Sorry, Ty. You're going to have to get creative."

"Man, I hate it when she says that," Tyler groaned.

The vampire who wanted to eat some puppy chow, grinned exposing that gorgeous set of chompers. "Looks like it's just you and me, kid. Don't worry. I'll make it quick." The vamp pounced on Ty.

After a moment, Tyler looked up and saw the vamp had pitched back. "Ew! What are you?" the vampire demanded. "You smell like my old dog, Biscuit."

"Well, say 'Hello' to Biscuit for me," Tyler snapped, freeing a stake from his ankle holster and stabbing the vamp through the heart.

"Ahhhh!" came from where Ty figured Ric must be.

Rolling over, Tyler forced himself to his feet and found that the three vamps Bon mentioned made a few friends. Ric was holding them with a cross, but that would not last long, especially with a female vamp climbing the gate behind Ric.

"Shit," Tyler groaned. "Bon?"

"I'm working on it," Bonnie snapped. The sound of chanting filled the air and one of the vamps got a branch through the heart. Now, three of them turned, snarling and spotted Bonnie. Hell, Tyler didn't know where Bonnie was, exactly, but he figured she was where the vamps were now headed.

"Ty, go help Bonnie!" Alaric gagged out as a vamp began to choke him and bang Ric's head into the gate. The female vamp was still poised to pounce on Ric.

Tyler was torn between helping the Hunter or helping his best friend. "Shit," he groaned.

"Need help?" Someone asked from behind Tyler. "'Cause it kind of looks like death, death, and, oh, yes, death!" Hayley Marshall grinned before by-passing Tyler in a backhand spring. "Miss me? Oh, wait, I forgot your plan doesn't cover tooth removal at no cost. Good thing I'm here to help!" She cheerfully kicked a vamp in the mouth. It slammed into the gate and let out a howl, placing its hand to its mouth.

"Guess de-fanging's in-style this year," Tyler muttered. He went to help Bonnie.

                                                   Read more

Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging and following. 🧛‍♀️🧛‍♂️🐺🧹💓🎃

                                                  Happy Halloween!

-J

[video-killed-the-radio-host]

My Love, Come and Save Me ch 1

This is chapter one of part one of the Teach Me To Be Bad series

-------------------------------------------------------

Cecil waves as the last few students trickled out of the classroom. He loved his students but he was also ready for the weekend. He picks up the stack of papers into his bag and does one last sweep of his classroom. He knew it was empty but it was a habit he had picked up a few years ago.

He picks  up his cardiagain and drapes it over his shoulder. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with his boyfriend Carlos and his group. Carlos called his group Cientificos Locos. They were basically a gang but Carlos said not to call them that because it sounded tacky. Either way, the group were nice people.

Rochelle and Terry were Carlos’ right hands. Rochelle worked at the school with Cecil. The red haired woman was a fierce, protective woman who stood up for what she believed in.

Terry was a man who was always quick to make a joke but was stone cold when necessary. He never misses with his gun. Cecil felt safe with him the moment they met. Terry was flirty, especially with Cecil but Cecil knew it didn't mean anything. Everyone knew he was loyal to Carlos and Carlos alone. Still, his reactions were pretty funny whenever Terry made Cecil blush.

Jason and Riley were the only married couple in the group. Riley is a cop and Jason is a barista with Cecil's best friend Earl. Jason was relatively soft spoken while Riley was never afraid to speak her mind.

Nilanjana was a smart woman. She always had a strategy. She was the tactical agent of sorts. Always on her toes.

Lastly there was Meliko. Meliko was the daughter of a rival gang member but left her past behind for a more peaceful way of life. She is a lirbrain during the week and a bartender on the weekend. Her weapon of choice was the knife.

Cecil finally makes it to his car and unlocks it, giving one last wave to the other kindergarten teacher, Tyler Stewart. Tyler waves back and calls to behave. Cecil blushes lightly and waves him off.

He leaned down to unlock his car and is struck on the back of the head and blacked out before he hit the pavement.

-----.-----

Carlos leaned against the house, cigarette in hand as he waited for Cecil. He hadn't heard from him in the last hour and was getting a little concerned. He knew Cecil likely got caught up talking to Rochelle, which wasn't unusual. He sighs and flicks the cigarette away. He looks up as he hears tires on gravel. Rochelle pulls up in her pick up and steps out after turning the truck off. She pulls her hair out of its tight bun, red curls flying wildly.

"Hey Roch. Where's Cecil?"

Rochelle looks at him in confusion. "I thought he was with you. He told me at lunch he was coming straight here after the bell. Have you heard from him?"

Carlos stands up straight and digs out his phone. He dials Cecil's number and listens to it ring. He gets voicemail. Panic grows in his gut as he tries again. Voice mail. Then his phone pings. He looks down. A text.

Carlos, I will not be able to make it tonight. I aplogize

"Something is wrong." Carlos looks up.

Rochelle looks over his shoulder. "What do you mean? It just says he can't make it."

Carlos shakes his head. "No. Its to formal. Cecil never uses my name when texting me. He always uses some kind of pet name. And he'd never use "will not" in a text. He says it takes to long and his attention span can't handle it. He'd use "won't" and he misspelled apologize."

"So?"

"He's an English major. He doesn't misspell words." He turns the phone's screen off and takes a breath. "He never misses movie night." He looks up at Rochelle. "Something is really wrong. Get everyone in the living room. We need to find out what happened."

Rochelle nods and follows Carlos inside. Nearly everyone is already in the living room. Terry is sitting near the fireplace. Riley and Jason sat on the couch. Nilanjana was curled up in an armchair. They all look up when Carlos enters the room.

Carlos looks around. "Where is Meliko?" He asks.

Jason looks over. "She gets off in ten minutes."

"Where's the other half of C Squared?" Riley asked. "I'm starving."

"You're always hungry Riles." Terry teases. "But yeah? Where is the pretty boy? I need me some sugar."

Carlos sits down with a heavy sigh. "He's missing."

The atmosphere in the room changed suddenly.

"How long has he been missing?" Riley asks, sitting up and digging out her phone. "I'll get a BOLO put out."

"I'm not sure…"

Terry's body language changes. His face darkens and his shoulders are drawn in.

"When did you last hear from him?'

"Well I got a text from his number but It was not Cecil. I know that for a fact."

-----.-----

"Oh...he really is pretty."

"Not as pretty as me."

"Of course not beautiful. You will always be my favorite."

There was a soft squeal. Then a chuckle.

"I'm just saying, we could have some fun with him."

Cecil wanted to flinch away from the hand on his face. Or at least open his eyes. Scream. Do something! But all he could do was stay still and listen.

"Where are we going to keep him until it's time to play?"

"Oh…..the Blue Room. What do you think?"

"Oh….yes. But we are going to have to change him. Those clothes are just dreadful."

"I'll have Tyler do it. Come on. It's you time my love."

Cecil hears the giggle again and it grates his nerves. He felt a pinch and he was once again dragged into unconsciousness.

-----.-----

Carlos stands in front of the lit fireplace, staring at the dancing flames without really processing them. How could he let this happen? How could he drag Cecil into this? How could he let himself believe that he could keep Cecil safe? That he could be happy?

"Hey." A soft voice said behind him.

Carlos turns and clears his throat. "Terry."

"This isn't your fault. You know that right?"

"But what if it is? I have enemies. Cecil- he's the only innocent one here."

"And we will get him back. We all love him. You know that." He puts his hand on Carlos's shoulder. "By any means necessary."

Carlos nods. "Any means necessary."

-------------------------------------------------------

I know this chapter was short but it's only ground work. Next chapter will be longer i promise

@lady-dmaris

@whiny-top-alligned

[flightfoot]

The Last Days of A Meat Puppet Ch. 1

Day 1

I blinked open my eyes. Blearily I looked around. Gleaming walls of white greeted my eyes, with a rainbow shimmer overlaying it. I squinted and took a closer look. The rainbow shimmer formed some sort of spherical barrier. I looked behind me to check whether it went all the way around, and choked. Standing behind me was a twenty foot tall man wearing a grey suit, a long black beard, and a severe expression on his face. The air around him crackled with energy.

I scrambled back, wanting to put some distance between myself and this strange, scary giant. I’d seen strange things before, like people with goat horns, and winged horses. Once I even saw a GIANT dog bounding around the city before melting into shadows.

Mum says that I’m clear-sighted, like her. We see the world as it REALLY is, in its full strangeness. We try to stay out of whatever trouble is going in the hidden world. but now it seemed that trouble had found ME.

“Who... who are you?” I cried, hoping I sounded braver than I felt. “Where am I? What do you want with me?”

I wracked my brains, hoping that remembering what happened before this would give me some insight. But it didn’t help. I’d gone to school, (DRIVEN myself in fact, I got my license just last month!) come home, played some Mario Kart with my younger brother Cameron, and pretended to be a vicious dragon for my much younger siblings, Katie, Tyler, and Tyrone to slay. (Tyler and Tyrone are identical twins. Most people outside of our family mix them up constantly, but we can always tell who’s who, no matter how often they try to fool us.) I helped Mum put them all to bed, then went to bed myself. Nothing that told me why I had awoken in this strange place with the giant scary man glowering at me.

“I AM ZEUS, KING OF OLYMPUS,” he bellowed. I felt the vibrations from his voice resonate throughout my body. “YOU ARE HERE TO SERVE AS A VESSEL FOR MY SON APOLLO, AS PART OF HIS PUNISHMENT.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Uh... so what will happen to me?”

He looked down his nose at me. I felt like he was looking at me as a particularly noisy livestock animal, an annoyance he’s almost happy to slaughter.

“YOUR SOUL WILL BE SYSTEMATICALLY DESTROYED, BUT YOUR BODY LEFT INTACT. I WISH FOR APOLLO TO BE THE ONLY ONE IN THIS BODY.”

I broke out in a cold sweat. He was going to what?

“You don’t want me,” I said quickly, fighting down my nausea. I didn’t think that throwing up would be helpful in getting the King of Olympus to listen to me. “I’m not athletic, I have acnes and pimples, and I trip over my own feet! I’d make a TERRIBLE vessel.”

“THAT MAKES YOU THE PERFECT VESSEL,” Zeus replied. “APOLLO IS PROUD AND VAIN. BEING IN SUCH A PLAIN, ORDINARY BODY WILL BE PUNISHMENT ALL ON ITS OWN.” 

Ok, NOW I was insulted. Yes I know I just insulted myself a second ago, but I didn’t need Zeus to do it too!

“I... I have a family,” I said weakly. “They’ll miss me if I’m gone.”

“LET THEM MISS YOU,” he replied. “WHY SHOULD I CARE?”

I had no answer to that. Even if they could somehow figure out where I was, there was no way they could retrieve me. And even if they could, what would stop Zeus from taking me right back? 

A cold trickle ran down my back. Zeus CLEARLY didn’t care about human life. If they did find me... if I tried to fight him... he might HURT them.

NO.

I wanted to live. I wanted to go back home and cook with Mum, watch bad horror movies with Dad, attend Katie’s first ballet recital (she was SO excited about it, jabbering away to anyone who would listen about what a pretty Sugar Plum Princess she made), cause Cameron to glare at me in annoyance as I chose Rainbow Road again, and stop the twins from giving the cat a bath in the toilet (though our cat made her opinions on that well known already). I wanted to be with my family.

But I wanted them to live even more.

With a jolt I felt myself being dragged into the air by... well, the air.

“What’s going on now?!” I shouted, flailing uselessly.

He didn’t reply. I guess he was done entertaining questions from lower life forms for today.

He dragged me through several different rooms, all lavishly decorated. Some were even staffed by... beings. They weren’t human, that was for sure. some were see-through and wispy, others were close to Zeus’s height and dressed in fine clothes, sipping some drink of out of golden goblets. A few glanced over at me as I screamed for help.

None of them made any move to help me.

At last we stopped in a room covered with a gleaming, golden net. On the other side of it stood a teenager, about my age, with golden hair and sky blue eyes. He looked as freaked out as I was.

“F-father,” he said pleadingly. No person should look up at their parent with so much fear. “Please. I’ve learned my lesson. Forgive me.”

Zeus merely looked down at him coldly. “NOT YET YOU HAVEN’T.”

That’s when Apollo noticed me, and his face morphed to one of confusion. “Who..?”

Zeus grinned. I shivered. “HE IS PART OF YOUR PUNISHMENT. YOU WILL BE CAST DOWN AS A MORTAL AGAIN, BUT THIS TIME, YOU WON’T EVEN HAVE A BODY OF YOUR OWN. YOU’LL BE IN HIS BODY INSTEAD.”

Apollo gave me a quick look up and down, lingering on my face and my stomach. I shifted uncomfortably, as best I could while being held up in the air anyways. I felt again like livestock, this time being inspected before the slaughter and found wanting.

“But... but he has acne! And FLAB! I bet he doesn’t even have a six-pack!”

Suddenly I lost my sympathy for him. I was going to have my SOUL DESTROYED as part of a conflict I had no part of, and he was complaining because I wasn’t a MODEL?! 

I glared at him. “He’s gonna destroy MY SOUL, as part of YOUR punishment. Why are YOU complaining?”

He waved it off. “Hey, it’s not like I can do anything about that. I’m not happy about this either.”

“I might not ever see my family again,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I’ll never get to give my sister piggy-back rides again, or teach my youngest brothers how to ride a scooter, or give my younger brother dating advice, or... or...” 

I started to sob. It was beginning to sink in. No one was coming to rescue me. No one COULD rescue me. I was going to die here, and this conceited prick was going to wear my corpse, complaining about it the whole time.

Apparently Zeus decided that that was enough. “I’LL BE BACK,” he promised. “I WILL SHOW YOU HOW FAR I’VE PROGRESSED ON PREPARATIONS FOR YOUR PUNISHMENT.”

Then he walked away, dragging me along, still floating, behind him.

After a few more minutes, we were back in the room I had woken up in. He conjured a see-through box and laid me down in it. I tried to squirm some more, but he merely snapped his fingers and my body went still and straight, as if someone had cast Petrificus Totalus on me. (I had just gotten through reading the Sorceror’s Stone to Katie, Tyrone, and Tyler. I wondered who would take over now?)

“SLEEP,” Zeus declared. “NEXT TIME YOU AWAKEN, THE PROCESS WILL HAVE STARTED.”

I fought his order as best I could, but it was useless. I could feel my eyes closing against my will. I tried to hold on to myself as best I could, hoping I’d still, somehow, against all odds, still be ME when I next awoke.

My name is Lester Papadopoulos. I have a mother, father, and four annoying, but precious siblings. Cameron. Katie. Tyrone. Tyler. They’re my family. Don’t forget.

Don’t forget.

Don’t... forget...

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Hounds of Justice--Ch. 70

Chapter 70

           Roman grinned as he poked his head into the door. “Hey, I’m going to grab something from catering. You want to come?”

           I smiled and pushed myself away from the table where I worked. It was very different from getting ready in the locker rooms for a match, but it was something I was slowly getting used to. Being back amongst the rest of the superstars was helping more than I thought it would.

           “Of course,” I said as I followed him. “I’m actually starving, but I’ve been so nervous about the last-minute changes to the match. With Sasha getting hurt this weekend, I had to re-block the match with Nikki and Alicia. And you know how they are.”

           Roman chuckled. “Well, that’s what you get when homegirl doesn’t have any concern for her safety. We been telling Sasha for years to stop with the suicide dives. But does she listen?”

           It felt so good to laugh with him again. His radiator warmth was still there, filling the air around us until I felt as if I’d been wrapped up in an electric blanket. I was suddenly thrown back to the first few nights of my time on the main Roster. Roman had accepted me into the fold, treated me just like a little sister, worrying about me, and letting me be part of the Hounds.

           The only sound was the rubber of my wheels against the polished concrete floors. It had become so familiar that it was almost like my heartbeat. However much I longed for the time before it had been part of my life, I knew that it wasn’t going to change.

           Roman stopped and slipped in front of me. He grinned at me, something mischievous in his black eyes. “Know what today is?”

           I watched the way joy lit up his features. “What did you do, Ro?”

           He laughed and started walking backward toward catering, beckoning me forward with a finger. “I can’t believe that you forgot your own birthday. Again.”

           I stopped, flipping through the calendar in my mind. I swore that I was going to be prepared this year—maybe do a little dinner with the Hounds, Becky, Renee. Yet I’d gotten so caught up in keeping the match together and everything that had been going on with my doctors that I’d totally forgotten about it.

           “In my own defense…” I started.

           He flipped his hand at me, a laughing smirk on his face. Before I could say anything else, Roman slipped around behind me and started pushing my chair toward catering. The noise level picked up as we got closer—more than the typical shouting and hustle going on in the place.

           Dean skidded around the corner, a wild smile on his face when he saw the two of us. “Dollface! Birthday girl!” From behind his back, he pulled out a stack of paper party hats complete with tinsel. “No admittance without the appropriate attire.”

           I couldn’t help but giggle as Dean carefully put the hat on me, taking care that he didn’t snap the elastic beneath my chin. He stuck one on himself and tossed the other at Roman before giving me a playful kiss on the cheek. “Gimme a lift?”

           Laughing, I patted my knees. “We’ll give it a go. No guarantees that the whole thing won’t fall apart.”

           “Better not risk it then,” Dean said with a smirk. He swept around behind me, shooing Roman away with a kick to the thigh. “Tell the rest of them the princess is on the way!”

           I rolled my eyes as Roman jogged off ahead. Dean fell into step beside me, letting me set the pace. His reckless energy reminded me of other times, the two of us in the ring at house shows, hamming it up and showing off. I missed those days more than I cared to admit.

           “Seth’s gonna shoot me,” he said softly, hands tucked in his pockets.

           “Why?”

           He reached out and tugged on the end of my ponytail. There was something both playful and apprehensive in his voice when he spoke. “Act surprised, okay? Later on. Not in front of everyone, he knows better than that. But… just act surprised.”

           I stopped, forced myself to think calmly. “Are you… Dean, you can’t be serious.”

           “As a heart attack, dollface,” he said solemnly.

           For a moment, everything went blurry. I couldn’t make sense of what was going on around me. The world shifted beneath my feet, turning me sideways. I thought I was going to be sick.

           And then I was hit with some delirious sort of joy. Like the first moment when I stepped into the ring… only a thousand times more powerful. Something sizzled in my veins, rushed along my skin. It turned my nerves into firecrackers that I swore I could feel in the soles of my feet. Blood pumped in my ears. I was nearly ready to cry with the overwhelming sensation of it all.

           “Even with all this?” I asked plaintively, gesturing to my chair. As often as he reassured me that he didn’t mind, I always feared somewhere in my mind that Seth would quickly get frustrated with the new no-sex aspect of our relationship. I couldn’t understand how what Dean insinuated could be real. “You’re fucking with me, Ambrose.”

           Dean swept in front of me, his hands braced on the armrests of my chair. He leaned over, eye to eye with me. “I might fuck around about a lot of things, Llane. But never something like this. Now practice your surprise face.”

~~~~~~~~~~

           There was so much cake. Too much cake for any one of these athletes to be eating before they went out to perform. Becky had three pieces all on her own, and she was part of a tag team match later that night. I could have sworn that Braun demolished half of the huge sheet cake by himself.

           “Happy birthday, Llane,” Seth said from beside me. He had one arm draped over the back of my chair, fingertips brushing slow circles on my shoulder blade.

           I grinned, even though I was slightly overwhelmed with the attention that swirled around catering with so many of the superstars and crew gathered together. Being there with him, with Roman and Dean, Becky and Braun and Finn, it felt like being home again. Those people… they were more than my friends—they were my family.

           “Thanks for this,” I whispered, leaning my head against his shoulder.

           He smiled. “I know you don’t like a big hoopla… but we couldn’t let your birthday go by without something. We just want you to know how much we love you. How happy we are to have you here with us.”

           Melancholy leaked into his voice. My fingers found his free hand, brushed against his roughened palm. I let my thumb stroke against the inside of his wrist where the faded tattoo of Forever sat inside a burning page.

           “I’m so grateful for you,” I whispered. “All the parts of you—Seth, Tyler, Colby and everyone in between.”

           He swallowed, deep brown eyes shifting across the room. The others had started clearing out—to prepare for the show, to rest, to figure out how to put on a good show with 800 calories and a shit-ton of carbs running through their veins. After a while, it was just a few of us. Seth and I. Roman. Dean and Renee. Becky. Finn. Braun.

           Dean caught my eye, gave me a faint grin and a nod.

           This was it.

           “Llane…” Seth spoke distractedly, leaning back so that he could dig his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. “You know how much I love you, right?”

           Wordless, I nodded. Tears started welling in my eyes. Time compressed, stood still.

           “The good and the bad. That’s what I want with you,” he said, holding out something caught between his fingers. It was an oval cut white diamond that was surrounded by small black diamonds. The band was rose gold and carved with scrolling designs and inset with more of the black stones. It was petite. It was beautiful.

           It was perfect.

           “Yes.”

           He grinned. I grinned back. From across the room, Dean whooped his approval.

Llane’s Ring

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[trashheappro]

The Anomaly - Ch. 9

Ch: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Miguel O’ Hara has failed in many ways throughout his life. Working for someone as crooked as Tyler Stone. Trusting him enough to drink that laced tea even when he knew Tyler needed him to complete his research. Fixing his DNA by splicing it with spider DNA and making himself dependent in a whole different way. Losing Dana was his own fault really. And Gabriella… 

Miles was his fault and everything the boy had done. Gwen and her father… The Parker family… Those were his fault too. 

If he could have done things differently, maybe he wouldn’t have acted so rashly. He gave a damned lecture to a teen who obviously had issues following orders. In what universe did he think telling the kid to let his dad die would work. Stupid. But again, he felt bad, not shame. 

Miguel refused to dwell too much in the headspace of what-ifs or what-could-have-beens because he would get lost in them. He had to focus on the present and protecting the future. And right now, the multiverse needed his protection. Anomalies were popping up all over the Spiderverse (as much as he loathed to admit it, it rolled off the tongue better than Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse) and he did not have the personnel to handle the sheer volume of it. 

There was an influx of anomalies popping up on multiple earths and given what happened to Peter B last time, Miguel wasn’t taking chances with any of them, especially not the ones that appeared in Hobie’s, Pavitr’s, Peni’s, Noir’s, Ham’s, and Jess’ universes. They all had anomalies running amuck and he sent out multiple teams to safeguard them and their families. It seemed to be working as no one had disappeared… yet. But that didn't include the other anomalies appearing in other less involved universes and the  Spider Society was spread thin. As much as he wanted to jump into the fray, the best way for him to help was to manage the teams from HQ. 

Lyla appeared over his shoulder in all her annoyingly snarky glory. “So we have a problem.”

Miguel ran a tired hand over his face. “More?”

“Yeah.” 

He rubbed his eyes. “Who can we send?”

“No one.”

He growled. “What do you mean ‘no one’?”

“Well, per your protocol, we need a certain number of Spiders here at all times. If we send anyone out we dip below that number.”

Ah yes, the safety protocol he instituted after the initial incident with Miles Morales. Of course the kid would bite him in the ass even when he wasn’t here. “Override it.”

“I would like to remind you that safety protocols are safety protocols for a reason.”

“Just do it,” he snapped. He scanned the report Lyla sent him; a Rhino and a Vulture. “Send a team of three.”

“Mmm, wouldn’t recommend that.” She checked her nails as if she wasn’t just pixels. 

Why did he have to build his AI so annoying? “Lyla, we don’t have time for this!”

“Well, I got an updated report, it looks like it’s a whole Sinister Six anomaly.”

“Say that at the start! Send five, anyone available.”

“You got it, boss.”

He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension building there. It didn’t work. It never did. Then Lyla fizzled back into existence. He could snap his own nose, he was gripping it so hard. “What now?!”

“More.”

“Estas bromeando,” he hissed.

“In this universe.”

“Ay, por favor. How many?”

“Just one. Might be a regular anomaly.”

Ha. Funny phrase that. But a minor anomaly was a welcome relief from the massive ones cropping up. “Do we have anyone?”

“Not unless you really want to disregard your safety protocol.”

Fine. He’d get this done quick and hurry back. He materialized his mask over his face. “I’ll go. Where?”

“Lower levels.”

He sprinted out of the room. “Keep an eye on everyone. Keep me posted.” She gave him a half hearted salute and disappeared. 

As he ran through the facility he was struck by how empty it was. Normally it was a near constant buzz of conversation. Now, only the barest of personnel were around just in case of an emergency. It was odd. 

He took the elevator down to the underbelly of Nueva York. His scan indicated the anomaly was in quadrant 8C. A bit of a swing, but manageable. He just hoped he could stop it before too much damage was done. 

Orange and yellow blurred together as he swung. It worried him how many anomalies were popping up, Miles’ doing or not. What if the barrier between universes were thinning? Could they? He had tests he needed to run. Regardless, it did not bode well. 

And then what was he going to do about Miles Morales? The kid was clearly… unwell. No, that wasn’t fair, not to Gwen and Peter. Even disturbed was a light term for what Miles was now. What he did to George Stacy and MJ was horrific, cruel, and heartless.  

It would be easy to blame everything on the Spot; he kidnapped the kid and did unspeakable things until Miles became… this. But his gut told him that wasn’t right. And if that wasn’t right, and Miles was telling the truth, that meant everything was his fault. He did this to the kid. Which meant that it was on him to… take care of the issue. 

He didn’t want to have to kill Miles, but if there was no salvation… Shit. He was just a kid. He shouldn't be thinking about this like that.

The sound of metal screeched in his ear. He picked up speed. The sooner he dealt with this, the sooner he could return to base and figure this mess out. He dodged a car flung his way. 

The Lizard anomaly roared and bounded towards him. Guess anyone even resembling a Spider was enough to warrant the creature’s wrath. Miguel ducked under a careless swing and landed a heavy punch to its guts, stumbling it.  He shot a web at its chest and pulled it back into another punch, knocking out a sharp tooth. The Lizard collapsed at his feet. 

It took more time to get here. 

Well, at least he didn’t waste any time or resources sending a team. He secured the lizard in a containment field and called Lyla to arrange pick up. She didn’t answer. Now, contrary to what other Spiders might think, Lyla was sort of programmed with that menace personality, but she was still an AI, one that always answered when he called. 

“Lyla,” he tried summoning again to no avail. Something was wrong. He pressed his comm button for his watch. “Spider-Byte.” Nothing. “Margo!” Silence. 

Miguel cursed his stupidity as he hurried back the way he came. He knew things were hectic with the surge of anomalies and likely caused by Miles, so he should have known it was a ploy to get him out of HQ. He should have anticipated something like this. He should have been more conservative in who he sent out. He was severely lacking back, but what choice did he have?

He nearly slammed into the side of the elevator, just barely able to stop his top speed at the door. He had to get to his computer first if possible, assess the situation, rally the Spiders in base, and get Lyla and Spider-Byte back online. As he waited for him to reach HQ, he sent out a web-wide comm. “Spider Society is under attack, any and all available hands are to return to HQ at once.” 

The doors opened. He expected damage, chaos, some sort of fight. What he got was Spiderman of Earth-337 pinned to the wall by a metal rod through his chest and complete silence. Blood stained a river down his chest. There was no chance the Spider was still alive. 

Still, Miguel walked forward and checked for a pulse. Nothing. Damn it all. Spiderman-337 was the one to initially report that it was the Spot who was collapsing universes. He was pinned perfectly in view of the elevator. Perfect for Miguel to see as soon as he got back. This was a message. 

He pulled the rod out and laid the fallen Spider into a more dignified position. They thought they could come into his home, kill his people, and taunt him with their corpses? He’ll tear them to shreds. 

Miguel ran through the base. The silence was off putting, not even the sounds of a brawl, just his hurried footsteps. He did not like the implications. At least Spider-Byte’s safety was guaranteed. His worst fears were realized at the sight of corpses littering the hallway of his lab. Furious was an understatement. But even through the fog of anger, he knew it was foolish to challenge the Spot and Miles on his own. He took a step back; he'd wait for backup. Or he would have if a hole didn’t open up beneath him. 

“– should have sent the Sinister Six here.”

Miguel knew that weedy voice anywhere. “You!” he snarled at the Spot, who was high above at his computer.

The Spot turned on his heel. “Yeah, me.” He pressed a button and the platform began lowering. “How–?” He pressed the button again, which paused the descent. “Wait.” He pressed it again. 

A feather light chuckle bubbled from the other person sitting on his desk. Miles. “It’s really just that slow.” The Spot shrugged and returned to clicking away at the computer. Miles looked at Miguel, joy alight in his eyes. He waved with his fingers. “Hey, Miguel. It’s your turn.”

Miguel scowled. “Miles, you made a mistake coming here.”

“You think?” He leaned forward on his knees. “I mean me and Mr. Ohnn put a lot of thought into–”

“If you think I’m going to play one of your sick little games–”

“No,” Miles pushed himself off the desk. “No games with you.” He sauntered forward. “Did you like the gifts I left for you?”

Miguel’s eyes flashed a dangerous red. His talons extended from his fingers. 

Miles grinned, dropping from the platform. He was still a lanky kid, a year and a half didn’t do much to change the gangly limbs, which meant he still had some growing to do. There was that same determination in his eyes, the same one from over a year ago, but now it was cold where it was once passionate. 

This was not the same kid he locked up. Electricity sparked in Miles boots. 

Miguel saw it coming, but only barely reacted fast enough to block the punch to the face. He was quick to counter, but not quicker than Miles backing out of his range. “Don’t make me do this, kid,” he said, flexing his fists. 

Miles just laughed. “Killed ten Spiders in the last ten minutes and I’m still just a kid.”

“Eleven,” the Spot corrected. 

“Eleven dead Spiders,” Miles said, glee in his eyes. “Wanna make it twelve?”

The nonchalance set Miguel off. Those Spiders were dead. His Spiders were dead. Eleven universes without protectors. Miguel roared and charged. 

“That’s the Spiderman I remember.” A mask engulfed Miles face, the same one with the little devil horns and painted smile, nanotech. He dodged Miguel’s first swipe, but got caught by the second. He didn’t panic, instead mirroring the grip Miguel had on him and sending a surge of electricity through him. 

Miguel screamed as his limbs locked. He fell to one knee after the wave passed, but Miles hadn’t shook him off yet. He gripped the thin arm tighter and lifted Miles in the air to slam him back into the ground. 

Miles gasped, but learning his lesson, kicked Miguel off and flipped onto his feet. They circled each other, waiting for the first move. The mask was the same design as the one Hobie had shattered, but upgraded with nanotech. His gear was evolving. 

“Need assistance?” The Spot asked. 

Miguel froze. Against Miles he could win. Against the Spot he might manage to hold out until backup arrived. But both of them would be a death sentence. 

“Did I ask for any?” Miles straightened and disappeared. 

Shit. Miguel forgot about that. A leg swept under him and Miles appeared above him, electricity powering his fist. He barely got his arms up in time to block, followed by the distinct feeling of his bones creaking in protest. 

Miles might be faster, but not stronger. 

Miguel grabbed his face. He twisted using his momentum to slam Miles into the ground. He thought the kid was out for the count until two feet kicked up and hit him in the chin. 

Damned Spider flexibility. 

Miles backed out of reach, narrowly avoiding stumbling over his own feet. “How are we on the download, Mr. Ohnn?”

Download? What were they downloading off his computer? None of it could be good news. None of this was good. 

The Spot gave a thumbs up. “Plenty of time for you to play with him.”

Miles was just stalling. 

Miguel raised his arm to shoot a web up to the platform, but Miles refused to let him, shooting a web past Miguel and launching himself back into the fight. It was easy to block the first hit, the second punch had him off balance, and the third kick had him actually stumble. Miles rushed to try and get another hit in, but Miguel caught his fist and threw out his own. 

Miles was dazed. Ok, lock the kid down in one of the containment units and –

A sharp pain radiated from his side. Miguel looked down at the black throwing spike stuck just under his ribs. He shoved Miles away and snarled. He let his guard down. Another mistake. 

Miles’ raised a hand in Miguel’s direction. Blue streaks of electricity crackled, moving faster than he could even blink towards the spike stuck in his torso. He screamed, electricity surging through him. He fell to his knees, couldn’t even react to Miles flying at him, fist coated in sparks. 

Miguel slammed into the far wall, crumpling to the ground. His whole body ached, unable to fully control his limbs as the last remnants of electricity coursed through him. He groaned as Miles maneuvered him to sit up right. He wasn't able to resist as Miles snapped cuffs around his wrists. 

Miles’ mask retracted, a triumphant grin plastered on his face as his chest heaved. “I win.” He stretched to loosen his joints. “Almost done?” he asked the Spot.

“Basically.” The Spot turned and looked at the vials and injections next to the desk. “Do we need these?”

Miles shrugged. “Take whatever. We’ll sort through it later.” 

“Smart considering we got a bunch of Spiders incoming.”

He walked over to Miguel. “That’s fine. We have everything we came for.” He dug his boots into the spike in Miguel’s torso, relishing in the scream that tore out of him. 

Miguel struggled against his restraints, but it didn’t even rattle. The hell?

“Made especially for you, big guy,” Miles said, putting more weight into his foot. “Like them?”

“Miles,” Miguel said through gritted teeth. “Stop.”

“Why would I do that? For the first time in a long time, I'm getting exactly what I want.”

“Miles,” he panted, pain radiating throughout his body. ���This isn’t you.”

Miles rolled his eyes. He let off, planting both feet in front of Miguel. “Right, because you know me so well.” He stared at him unblinkingly. A predator triumphant over a successful hunt. “Mr. Ohnn, are we ready?”

“Yup.” The Spot held up a hard drive. 

“Great, let’s get out of here.”

“You won’t get far,” Miguel sneered. 

“Far? From you?” Miles patted his head condescendingly. “Never. You’re coming with.”

“Wha–”

A hole opened up underneath them. 

[katedisonsmoved]

💑 💔

MUNDAY MULTIMUSE MEME   /   selectively accepting.

    who would make the best couple of two of your muses together? this took me forever to figure out, but iris holt & ricky torres would be cute as a button. sk8tr boi eddie cabrera & actress cassandra calvert would be the purest unlikely couple, while katrina monday & luz castillo would be the witchy girlfriends the world deserves.

    who would make the worst couple of two of your muses together? olivia pembroke & kimberly o’connor would be the hateship from hell. diego guzman would send my recovering daughter phoebe bartlett on the biggest downward spiral, & tara montgomery would eat soft boi tyler stone alive. why do i want all of these?

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

‘til Midnight

chapter 5/6

ao3 | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 

twelve x rose, Into the Dalek coda

*

He isn’t going to sleep.

He’s going to spend this hour memorizing the feel of Rose in his arms, breathing her in, delighting in stolen moments he thought he’d never have again.

The last few hours replay in his mind like a film, from when he first stepped out of the TARDIS and heard Rose’s voice right through a few minutes ago, when he he lied...telling her he’ll never leave her again.

When she finds him again, the other Doctor, he’s going to leave her behind on that beach.

He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve these moments of joy. He’s protecting her heart by lying to her, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s lying.

You asked me if you’re a good man, and the answer is I don’t know. But I think you try to be, and I think that’s probably the point.

Is he a good man? Where is the line?

Suddenly everything overwhelms him; his limbs feel heavy and his eyes won’t stay open. No! Not now, he pleads with his body, but it’s no use. He checks and double-checks the alarm clock in his head.

He cannot let her disappear like this.

Just before he succumbs to sleep a series of thoughts drop into his mind like stones into a pond. He’d said goodbye to her once, and it had nearly broken him. He’d said goodbye to her again, given her to himself, as it were, and it had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.

He doesn’t know how he can possibly do it again.

✰✰✰

“Rose.”

His voice is barely more than a whisper but she snaps awake, her eyes full of panic. “Is--am I late? Is it… are we okay?”

Pulling her close--closer, actually--he peppers her face with soft kisses. That treacherous bit of his mind says, “What is this you’ve become, Doctor?” but he quickly shuts it down.

“Everything is fine, my Rose. Everything is fine. It’s just time to wake up is all.”

She relaxes, melting into him. “You stayed.” He hears the smile in her voice.

“I said I would. I even slept, actually.” He pauses, then adds, “It’s been a very long time since I’ve been so comfortable.” She snuggles even closer, and he gives a little hum of contentment.

“Did you dream?”

The ghost of a smile flits across his face. He doesn’t often talk about his dreams, but this one he’s happy to tell. “I did. I dreamed of the first time you saw me. I picture you that way all the time; that brilliant smile, and all the falling snow.”

She sits up and turns to face him, utterly bewildered. “Doctor, the first time I saw you was in the basement of Henrik’s. Remember? Moving dummies, explosions, ‘run for your life.’ Ringin’ any bells?”

“That was the first time I met you.”

He lets the silence linger; they just look at each other, and he sees the exact moment she realizes what he’s saying.

“Doctor!” Her eyes are wide, unbelieving. “You went back into my past? Which one of you? Was it a face I knew? How come I don’t remember?”

At first he hedges. “It...it wasn’t a very memorable moment. Not for you, anyway.” She gives him that look of hers, and he gives in. He’d known he would from the start. “I was feeling sad, alright? It was the end of a hard day and I wanted to see you. I didn’t mean to actually be noticed, but I’m glad of it. I got to see your beautiful smile, hear your laugh. You thought I’d had too much to drink because I didn’t know what year it was. Bit of a common problem for me, actually.”

Realization washes over her. “I remember! When I told you, you laughed and said--”

“I bet you’re gonna have a great year.”

“And that was the year I met you. Properly met you, I mean. The year my life changed forever.” Her eyes begin to glisten again.

“I almost messed everything up that night, you know,” the Doctor says conversationally. “I nearly added ‘Rose Tyler.’”

A laugh bubbles out of her. “You never.”

“I did. I had to bite it back. You know how I was in that body. I had to say your name every chance I got. I rather liked the taste of it in my mouth, I think.”

She leans forward until she’s just a breath away, looking right into his eyes. “Didn’t you ever wonder if the taste of me might be better?”

He swallows. “Every single minute, my Rose.” Clearing his throat, he amends, “Well, nearly. The minutes we were in peril I was thinking about how best to save your life, and then how maybe I could swing you up in a celebratory hug and maybe kiss you afterwards. You know, all caught up in the spirit of celebration. The few times I did get to kiss you, you were the Wolf, or you were Cassandra, or...it was all very confusing. I just wanted you, and to know you wanted--”

His words are cut off by Rose’s lips pressed against his. When she stops for a breath, she whispers, “I’m here now, Doctor. And let me tell you, you’re all I want. You are my past, present, and future.”

You are my present. It’s the only thing he’ll let himself think. Because her future is the other Doctor.

She grins. “Did you really think about snogging me that much?”

He looks away, eyes seeking anything in the room that isn’t her. “I might have exaggerated. Just a bit.”

Her laugh actually sparkles. Another piece of him breaks.

Two hours, thirty-two minutes, fourteen seconds, thirteen seconds, twelve seconds…

✰✰✰

“Well. This is new.”

His ship, yet again. They’d been wandering about, and he’d let Rose lead. Or so he’d thought. But when she’d stumbled upon this particular room…

“New body, new hobbies, you know the drill. It’s just something I decided to pick up again. It’s been awhile, but it’s like flying a TARDIS. You never forget.”

She runs a finger along a coiled metal string, which releases a soft squeak. Looking up at him through her lashes, she says, “Play for me?”

As if he could refuse.

He sits on a low stool and settles the guitar on his thigh, the lacquered wood and metal strings somehow familiar against the relative newness of his left hand. Rose looks at him, expectant, and in that breath he begins to play.

He has no particular tune in mind, only Rose; he thinks of her and improvises. The tune begins playfully, skipping from high notes to low and back again the way they skipped across the universe. He plays the Wolf, dramatic and sweeping, then the mingled pain and joy of regeneration. Sometimes there is fear of losing her, sometimes there is laughter, sometimes it is just the perfection of being with the one who fits so rightly at your side.

He doesn’t want to, but it is part of their story, so he plays Canary Wharf. The utter despair echoes about them, the feeling of losing one of his hearts when she disappeared into the other universe. He plays the beach, the words both said and unsaid. He doesn’t risk a look at her face, but he can feel the tears in her eyes.

He plays her absence, his loneliness, her determination to find him again. He plays their reunion, a ridiculous movie crescendo that ends with a whimper; he recalls lying on the street in her arms and can barely go on.

But he started down this musical memory lane and he can’t stop now. He plays the cacophony of the Crucible, the confusion of the metacrisis...and then the worst goodbye he’s ever said.

It is slow and bittersweet; he plays her happiness and confliction at once, dipping occasionally into a minor key. He plays his heartbreak, the emptiness inside him that could never quite be filled. He lets the song go so quiet it sounds like it may even just ease off into nothing. Rose’s breaths slow with the music.

And then he plays today.

He plays his melancholy, his longing, his attempted self-comfort. There is a drawn out wail when he remembers hearing her voice calling out to him, that moment etched in his mind for all of eternity. His fingers jump along the strings, mimicking Rose’s footsteps in the courtyard. He plays his frustrations with the TARDIS and Rose’s trilling, teasing laughs, the joy in the garden, the bliss of kissing her, of holding her, of being near her. He plays her fierceness, her refusal to let time--past, present, or future--get in their way. He plays hints of the agony he knows is coming, but refuses to dwell on it, not wanting to hurt his Rose. He plays the sweetness of falling asleep with her in his arms.

And winding through it all, a theme that repeats over and over, is love.

His unending, unconditional, heartbreaking love. He can’t say the words to her, but he can play the notes. He hopes that someday she will understand.

At the very end, almost an afterthought, he plays the first eight notes of “Auld Lang Syne,” sweet and pure, no reverb or distortion.

And then there is silence.

For a moment--or actually, 97.32 seconds--he is lost inside himself, lost in a flood of memories. Music may be good for the soul but it can also cause heartache. He’s brought back to the present by a face searching his, a hand on his cheek.

“Doctor, that was…” Rose looks into his eyes as if the answers lie buried somewhere inside him. “That was me. It was you and me and the whole universe and how did you do that with just a guitar?” She doesn’t give him a chance to respond, instead she presses her lips to his, taking his breath away. He returns her kiss with enthusiasm, nearly dropping the guitar in his attempt to pull her onto his lap.

“Hold on, I’ve got to put this up, it was a gift from…” He sees her face: eyes bright, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kissing him, and he amends his train of thought. “You know what, that’s not important.” He manages to get the guitar onto the stand with one hand and pull her onto his lap with the other. Her fingers thread through his hair as her lips crush against his again.

This, he thinks. This right here is what the present is for.

**

for @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas || day 31 - midnight

[gingerbread-in-july]

About Time Ch. 2

Here is the next chapter! Thank you so much for your feedback! <3  Warning for this chapter: No smut yet, but this chapter does contain sexual tension, a few crude remarks, and a couple of scenes that are a bit on the suggestive side that did make me blush just a bit! Also, feels.

I hope you like it!

You had picked out a dress for the wedding a month ago. Although it was nice enough, you decided that it just wouldn't do. One doesn't just wear a dress for a date with Chad on a date with Rich fucking Tozier. Oh, no. You couldn't just bring your A game; you had to throw out the rules and rewrite the game entirely.

The strapless wine red gown you had picked out was certainly classy and sophisticated but it had a sexy, scandalous edge that was undeniable. You weren't about to starve yourself just because some butthurt bitchboy had called you fat when you wouldn't do what he wanted, but you made it a point to drink plenty of water and work out every day leading up to the wedding.

You scheduled a hair appointment for the morning of. You hadn't planned to bother with as much for Chad but you knew you didn't have the skill to create something of the caliber you wanted on your own. "Make me the hottest bitch there," you told the hairdresser.

You did your makeup far more elaborately than you typically did, but there could be no stone left unturned. Not when you had to keep an old flame in his place and make him eat his heart out; certainly not when you were showing up on the arm of the one and only Rich Tozier. You made sure to use the most bold, provocative perfume you had and you did not use a light hand; there was no place for subtlety this evening.

The doorbell rang. You surveyed yourself in the mirror one last time, struck a pose and answered the door. There stood a dashing, impeccably dressed Rich Tozier...

...and there on the ground in front of him lay his jaw.

You twirled around for him. "What say you, Mr. Tozier?"

"Wow," he breathlessly gasped before rediscovering his voice. "What did I to to be lucky enough to score a front row seat to this smokeshow?"

On another day, you would have blushed. "You don't look so bad yourself, Richie." "(Y/N), I can promise you that nobody there will be looking at me," he said, unable to keep his eyes from wandering all over you. "I will. Damn, Richie. You're making me wish we didn't work together."

"Then I'll wear sweats to work Monday. Then you'll remember who you're working with."

"And you'll still be Rich Motherfucking Tozier. I knew what I was doing when I invited you to this wedding."

"You obviously didn't know me in Derry, Maine throughout the 80s and most of the 90s."

"Yeah, well I wasn't always the smokeshow you see in front of you, either. Hell, I'm not even this smokeshow ninety percent of the time these days."

"(Y/N), hot stuff, I'm going to be choking on all that smoke for weeks to come, if not months."

"Then I'll wear sweats to work Monday myself."

"Go ahead. The damage has already been done. Don't you know that secondhand smoke kills?"

"I see my lectures have finally gotten through. You ready? As much as I'd love to stay here and keep enjoying the view, we've got a wedding to attend."

"I hope you're not too attached to the bride because I don't think she'll be wanting to stay friends with somebody who shows up to her wedding looking that good. That is, if she doesn't decide to run off with you."

You took Richie's arm. "Let her try. There's not a man or woman alive or dead that could stack up to my date," you said as you walked to his car. You could have sworn that you saw Richie blush just a little bit before he looked away.

You wound each other up the entire drive to the wedding, neither of you letting the other lose sight of your mission or of just how goddamned stunning the other looked. By the time you arrived, the two of you were ready to take on the world, already fully absorbed in your plan and enjoying every split second of it.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you wrote in the guest book before handing the pen to Richie. He signed the book and set the pen down with a satisfied smirk.

You guffawed when you saw what he had done, adding onto your entry so that it now read (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and the luckiest son of bitch in the place, in two differing scripts. "I could kiss you for that," you whispered, never more thankful in your life that Rich Tozier could be utterly shameless at times.

"Hope you wore smudge proof lipstick," he whispered back, giving a shit eating grin to all passersby. Yes, all eyes were definitely on the two of you. Chad's would be too if he indeed possessed the balls to show up; if he did he sure wouldn't have the balls to say jack shit to either of you.

Not surprisingly, the professional photographer that had been hired for the event stopped the two of you for a photo. "Enjoy the view from behind, it's just as sweet!" Richie exclaimed to the photographer as you walked on, causing you to blush and cackle.

"You're amazing, Richie," was all you could say.

You took your seats and waited for the ceremony to begin. "You see him?" Richie asked.

"No, and I don't care to look. I've only got eyes for you tonight."

"That's true. We do have a show to put on," he said, giving you a look that you were sure had caused you to soak your seat. In fact, you even said as much.

"Don't make me soak my seat, Tozier."

Richie didn't say anything, just gave you a smoldering smirk, knowing damned well what he was doing. He may have come a long way from the scrawny, bespectacled trashmouth with the target on his back but he would always have a bit of the little shit left in him deep down.

You decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and leaned in, gently grazing his lips with yours. God, they were fucking soft. They felt every bit as great as you always imagined they would. You kissed him again, gently taking his bottom lip between your teeth before releasing it and pulling back.

"My God..." Richie marveled, as if meeting you for the first time. "Who are you? I always knew you were something, doll, but Jesus Christ..."

"Why, Mr. Tozier, I'm yours, don't you know?" you answered with feigned innocence.

Richie smirked and gave your leg a squeeze. "Let's take it down a notch, I don't want us to get kicked out before it's even started," he whispered before placing a quick kiss on your neck and turning to face forward.

You took his hand and the two of you made small talk about your surroundings. You sat through the wedding, unable to really focus on anything that was happening. All you could think about was the man beside you that you craved more than anything and the tension building between your legs. You clapped with everyone else when it was done, though, truthfully, you only knew to do so by watching Richie.

The wedding may have finished, but the fun was only beginning for you and Richie. Everyone knew that the reception was where the good shit really went down and it was there that the two of you would have to give your strongest performance. Thankfully, you were both warmed up.

You watched as the bride and groom made their way to the floor for their first dance and you couldn't help but feel a tug at your heartstrings. You'd never seen laid back, sweet-faced Tyler look so dashing and sophisticated and Amy, ethereal in her white gown with her flaxen hair gleaming in the light, looked like the angel on top of the Christmas tree.

"Doesn't she look beautiful?" you asked.

"Yeah, she does," Richie agreed and you had to give him credit for not adding on a crude remark like he typically would have done. The opening notes of Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud filled the room and the couple began their dance. Richie groaned in annoyance.

"Really? This song? Why did I let you drag me to a millennial wedding?"

"So basic," you concurred, although you felt your eyes misting regardless. "I wouldn't have picked it...but it's a pretty song. Well, it was the first two hundred times or so."

Richie saw you lovingly admiring the couple, lost in the moment and he smiled at the chip in in your tough, sassy exterior. He couldn't help but wrap his arms around you from behind and rest his chin on the top of your head as he watched them with you. "Yeah, it is," he admitted.

Throughout the evening, Richie played the doting date to the hilt. At your table, you made a show of feeding one another bites of cake by hand, dragging it out as long as possible, neither of you admitting aloud that it was just as much for your own benefit as it was for that of onlookers. A downright devilish grin broke across Richie's face as he finished languidly sucking a dollop of frosting from the finger you had between his pillowy lips, in his soft mouth as you simultaneously did the same thing, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his finger wrapped in the velvet expanse of your tongue, reluctant to let it go. He released your finger from his mouth and kissed your fingertips before speaking. "I see him." His dark eyes were alight with mischief.

"Oh yeah? Does he see us?"

"I don't see how he couldn't have clocked such a babe, especially as she sucked the frosting right off my fingers."

"You know, we haven't quite finished if you want to keep it up because I'm enjoying the hell out of this."

"Tempting, but I've got something else in mind."

"Is he alone? Did he bring a 'real woman?'" you asked with amused derision.

"If by 'real woman' you mean what is quite clearly, as I called it, a paid escort and what appears to be a discounted one at that, then yes."

You rolled your eyes, heavily make up for the occasion. "Okay, what are we going to do?"

"I'll tell you what we're going to do, you're going to get your sexy ass out of that chair and we're going to get out on that floor and give everyone an eyeful."

For the first time since you'd been there, you faltered. "Richie, I don't know..."

"What, you aren't backing out on me now, are you? What happened to my hot piece of ass?"

"I won't look like such a hot piece of ass on the floor, Richie, I can't dance!"

"Sure you can. Anyone can."

"Can and should are two very different things!"

"You can. You will." He stood up and extended his hand down to you. "May I have this dance, beautiful?"

If there was one thing you couldn't do, even more than you couldn't dance, it was deny Rich Tozier.

"Of course, handsome. But you're leading."

"Absolutely. Gotta take care of my girl," he said as he led you out onto the floor.

You sure as hell couldn't dance and, truthfully, you didn't know if Richie was really all that much better, but he had more than enough confidence for the both of you. You followed his lead, never breaking eye contact.

"See, (Y/N)? You're doing it."

You had no idea what was going on around you. Everyone else could be dead for all you knew. All you knew was that there was music (you didn't even know what song) and motion and that you were being held and twirled by your love and, goddamn it, he sure was the most charming man you had ever seen, you sure wanted to kiss him, and you wished more than anything that this was for real and not just for tonight.

The song ended. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Richie, I-"

You were cut off by the announcement that it was time for the bouquet toss. Richie's face lit up with mischief and he pushed you into the crowd of rabid single women who were desperate and ready to knock some lights out for some meaningless bundle of flowers that didn't truly foretell a thing. "Go on! Get it, (Y/N)!" he exclaimed in mock enthusiasm.

You want it, Tozier? you thought. Then you've got it. You couldn't have cared less for the tradition, but didn't you have an act to uphold?

Amy tossed the bouquet and you leapt for it, damned if you were going to let Chad's third rate hooker come out with it or anyone else, for that matter, since Richie had wanted to be cute and shove you into that sea of lunacy. No, that bouquet was your target. You leapt like a gazelle, swerved, and took ahold, yanking it out of the path to another woman's hands.

Everyone cheered and a few women shot death glares as you held up the bouquet, smiling smugly as you made your way back to a smarmy, smirking Richie who was clapping exaggeratedly. You tossed the bouquet at him. "As requested, your bouquet," you said before grabbing his hand, holding it up in the air and shouting, "Here he is, boys, come get him!"

Once the laughter died down, you mirrored the smug expression Richie had just been giving you.

"Laugh it up now, sweet cheeks, but you're about to be really sorry," he warned.

"Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?"

"Wait for it..."

An amplified voice filled the room. "All right, all you eligible bachelors, line up!"

"That's me," Richie said, handing the bouquet back to you and giving you a wink before joining the crowd of men who were gathered as Tyler removed Amy's garter.

That doesn't mean anything, you thought. There's plenty of men. Richie probably won't even get it.

Richie, however, had a height advantage over the other guys in the crowd, men just didn't care about things like this the way women did and you came to the sudden realization that you and Richie's plan had worked a little too well. The two of you had already established yourselves as the it couple of the evening, second only to Tyler and Amy themselves. Everyone had taken notice of the two of you and you could have sworn that you saw Tyler, that cheeky son of a bitch, deliberately toss that damned garter directly to Richie- who caught it, of course, much to the delight of the entire building.

Richie made his way back to you, victory all over that gorgeous, immaculately sculpted face of his. "Are you gonna sit down and make this easy for me?" he asked, teasingly.

You weren't about to give him the satisfaction of besting you. You sat down without protest, eyes smoldering, unable to contain your smirk as you lifted your dress to expose your legs, commanding Richie to the ground with a nod of your head.

The crowed ooohed and Richie made a show of dropping to his knees and crawling the brief distance to your feet, the garter clenched between his teeth. He reached up to gently take your ankle into his hands and slide the garter over it, taking his sweet time gliding it all the way up to your thigh, never once letting the garter slip from between his teeth.

"I gotta get a shot of this," came a voice near you, obviously the photographer. Richie looked at the camera, still on his knees, garter at your thigh still held between his teeth, and gave a very satisfied thumbs up to the camera as the photo was snapped. Only when the moment had been immortalized did Richie, at last, release the garter from his teeth. You let your dress fall back down over your legs.

"You bastard. You fucking bastard," you said breathlessly, smiling in spite of yourself.

"Hey, is that any way to talk to your future husband? We're next, dollface."

"Well played, Tozier," you commended, clapping slowly.

"What do you say we give the people a little victory dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

And so it went, dance after dance the two of you shared, long since losing track. Song after song, fast and slow until, at last, you looked up at him, towering over you, all lips and cheekbones, hair unkempt and sexy after an evening of activity. Dark, beautiful eyes were looking right back at you, soft, round and bearing into you. Eyes that had never looked into yours so long without saying something or, perhaps, had never looked into yours so long, at all. Richie was usually so good at talking, usually knew exactly what to say, so unlike you. Come on, Richie...say something... But nothing came out of him or you. All you could see was him, all you could think about was that moment, and all you could feel was everything you had ever felt for Richie, all at once and amplified, running through your blood, through every atom of you.

So, you kissed him.

Not for the sake of putting on a show, not for the benefit of any onlooker, but for you. Just your lips on his. No thought, just feelings, kissing him until you thought, at last, that you might die if you didn't stop for air because God knew you had forgotten to breathe.

You pulled away. Richie blinked, absentmindedly running his tongue over his lips. "Damn," he muttered offhandedly before returning to his senses. "Was Chad watching or something?"

You didn't know what to say. Truthfully, you had no idea if Chad had been watching or not, nor did you care. You had long since lost sight of your initial reason for bringing Richie to the wedding in the first place. You couldn't ruin things forever between you and Richie, but you couldn't lie to him, either.

"I don't know," you answered. "It just felt right."

"Felt right?" Richie didn't sound upset; just confused.

You couldn't just stand there not knowing whether or not you had just made the biggest mistake with Richie that you possibly could have. "Yeah, you know how it is," you cheerfully dismissed. "Doesn't it just feel right sometimes? Don't overthink it." The irony was not lost on you; you knew you would do precisely that. "Anyway, I'm sorry about that, Richie. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Do you want me to get you anything on the way back?"

"A drink."

"Anything in particular?"

"Surprise me."

"Ice?"

"Tons."

"Gotcha. Be back in a few." You headed toward the ladies' room as quickly as your dress would allow which, for the sake of appearances, was not very quickly, thankfully.

You locked yourself in a stall. "Fuck,"you whispered, dropping to a seat on the closed toilet. No matter how you fought them, tears sprang to the surface. You were glad that you had worn waterproof mascara. You allowed yourself a few moments of panic and despair before forcing yourself to dry up and get out. You touched up your makeup in the mirror until you were satisfied.

"You better get back out there to that man of yours," a woman said in passing, "or somebody else will be glad to take your place."

You laughed dryly. "Don't I know it?" you muttered to the empty bathroom.

You stopped to get Richie his drink, putting about as much thought into making it as he had into requesting it. You were sure to fill the cup with enough ice that it didn't really matter what else was in it, anyway. You scanned the room for Richie, perplexed that he was nowhere to be seen. Fuck, you thought. I've gone and run him off.

Just when you were about to dig your phone out of your purse, you felt a hand gently touch your arm from behind. You turned to face Richie, all smiles, back to his old self. You smiled and handed the drink to him. He set it on the nearest table.

"No time for drinks now, my love. While you were away, the DJ announced that after a brief intermission, the last song of the night was coming up."

"Thank fuck. That guy sucked. If it were my wedding, I'd pay him to stop. He's no Rich Tozier, that's for damn sure."

"Cut him some slack. I don't think Rich Tozier could have done any better, seeing a fox like you out on the floor."

"Nonsense. Rich Tozier is the king. He's been carrying both of us on the floor all night."

Richie smiled and offered you his hand. "I see the guy coming back. You ready to show them how it's done one last time?"

You took his hand. "Been ready all my life."

You made your way to the floor as the music began. It was a slow song, thank goodness, and you were ready to savor every second of the dance. It wasn't lost on you that it was the end of the night, the final encore, and you and Richie would soon take your last bow. It wasn't a show for you, though. It never was, and it had never been more plain to you than it was at that moment.

You looked into Richie's eyes. They were sparkling as he smiled at you. You smiled back and laid your head on his shoulder, playfully nuzzling his neck before settling. You felt a soft, whispering laugh in his chest before you felt his lips place a chaste kiss on the top of your head and then your hand that he held as you danced. He held his head down, his face resting gently in your hair.

In that moment, you could have sworn that he was enjoying this every bit as much as you. Deep down, however, you knew better. If he was loving this with you, it was no different than the way he had loved so many others for a moment or two before going back to his same old single life.

I love you, you thought. You mouthed the words against his shoulder, only because you knew he couldn't see. Was this how people felt on the way to their executions? Desperately clinging to every fleeting second of precious time as the end grew ever more imminent? You thought that it may very well have been; to some greater extent, of course, but still in the same vein.

You felt Richie's hand on your back, rubbing softly as your hand slowly traveled up to rest securely in his dark curls. Inevitably, no matter how fervently you wished that you could have frozen time, the song reached its end. Your heart began its slow break. Richie smiled down at you and kissed your forehead before wrapping an arm around you as you began the agonizing walk back to the car.

"What a night," you marveled aloud once you were both in the car.

"I'm sure Chad is eating his heart out and choking on it," Richie assured you.

You blinked, giving Richie a mischievous sideways smile. "Chad who?" You were playing coy but the truth was that you had hardly given him a passing thought the entire night.

"You pulled it off without a hitch, (Y/N)."

"Easiest thing I've done in my life- thanks to my fantastic partner, of course."

You raved about one another the whole way back, rehashing the evening, not wanting to let it go just yet. Unfortunately, you had to.

"Well, Mr. Tozier, it's been grand but I'm afraid this is my stop."

"Let me walk you to the door." That was just Rich; ever the gentleman.

He walked over to your door, held his hand out, and smiled once you stood before him. You took his arm and made your way to the door, thankful for once in your life for how much of a pain in the ass it could be to get to your apartment.

At last, you were at the door. The clock was ticking, the spell was breaking, and in spite of your dress, your professionally styled hair, and all of the makeup, you were starting to feel increasingly like your true self. "Thanks for doing this, Richie. It really means the world."

He smiled softly. "Nothing I would have rather done, dollface." You smiled up at him before yawning in spite of yourself. He laughed. "Go get some sleep, (Y/N)."

"You too, Richie."

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss onto your cheek. "I'll see you at work, baby." You thought he sounded as if he were talking to a child.

"Drive safe, Rich. And thanks again," you said before letting yourself in, not looking back for fear that Richie would see your heart all over your face.

The clock had run out, the coach had turned back into a pumpkin, Rich Tozier was just your older, wittier, more charismatic and successful friend and co-worker, and you? You were just you again, in your pajamas, sensational red dress discarded in the corner. Face bare. Eyes round and innocent. Lips returned to their natural shade. Bye bye, smokeshow, you thought.

You brushed your teeth, pulled your still styled hair into a messy bun at the back of your head, and climbed into bed. The sultry scent of your perfume still hung in the air. You knew it would be back to reality come Monday but, for now, you allowed yourself to drift to sleep on a cloud.

@caitlin-la @princessvulpecula13 @campcampie @itstheamandashow